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I’m reborn—like a phoenix resurrecting from its ashes.
“I hope you enjoyed it because that’s the last fucking time I take you to a track.”
I look at Damon, who hasn’t even spoken to me since we left. He was so tense and quiet on our way to the airport I didn’t bother making conversation.
I was in a world of my own as well. Reliving the moment and the adrenaline rush through memory. Now we’re back on the private plane, heading home to Chicago, enjoying dinner.
“How come?” I didn’t even expect him to take me back to another track.
“You were reckless, taking unnecessary risks.”
“Says you. I’ve been doing this for far too long.”
He freezes, then drops his fork on his plate. He must wait for me to do the same because when I do, he leans closer, so close, his seat right next to mine. I let the goodness of his cologne penetrate my senses, murdering all rational thoughts.
“It’s one thing to love speed and a completely different thing to bestupid. You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he says, frustration seeping through his words.
He’s so angry it’s making me angry.
My defenses are up, up so high, he’ll never be able to bring down the brick-stoned wall. I’m an experienced rider. Given, it’s been quite a while, but he doesn’t know that.
The stunts I pulled back then with my bike could give some professional riders a run for their money. This is the last thing he should be questioning me on.
I refuse to stare at him. Damon has a way of making you feel disappointed in yourself. No one, not even Harvey, has ever questioned my intentions, my wants and needs with my thrilling adventures. They accepted it. Maybe even encouraged it further. Harv had no regards for safety back then.
“It’s not your place, Damon.”
Gone are the Mr. Dreygon or sir formalities. We crossed so many invisible lines this weekend there’s no going back. I’m not even sure, as I’m sitting here, frustrated and annoyed with him, that I want it to go back.
I know it will. I know come Monday, Damon will have his poker face on, the one that never smiles, never has a tiny twinkle in his beautiful dark brown eyes.
No. I’ll be facing the cold, collected, calculating Damon who barks orders left and right.
A part of me wants to pause this moment.
“Like hell, it’s not. I took you there—a heads up that you have a death wish would’ve been nice.” He’s pulling on his hair, looking immensely disturbed by the thought of my death. At least that’s what I’m assuming is bothering him so much.
“I wasn’t goingthatfast.”
“Tell me,Gemma”—the way my name rolls off his tongue dissipates some of my anger with it. I’m glad I’m sitting down, my sushi completely forgotten—“Do you always put yourself in danger like that? You told me you liked the thrill. But that out there, the speed you reached...” He shakes his head. “You made them use the four-wheeler to come after us. If you’re looking foran escape... all you have to do is ask,” he’s whispering so close, I’m sure he’s trying to punish me, but it has the opposite effect.
I want this man so bad I can’t even function properly. I’ll be using my vibrator all night when I get home.
I’m feeling bold. That’s what Damon does. In the short amount of time I’ve known him, I gained my backbone back, and a bit of confidence.
It feelsso good.
My body hovers over the edge of the armrest between our seats. My sex hurts to the point of crying. It wants a release. It wants his fingers inside.
“Oh yeah? And how will you help?” I’m playing with fire, and everyone knows eventually you get burned to the point of hollow screams. He told me that he could never give me more, but in this moment I don’t need more.
I need him.
I need his hands. His mouth. Maybe something harder too.
I shouldn’t want this, yet I’d be the biggest liar on the face of this earth if I denied myself the most basic of truth.
I want him and his body.
