Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
I found myself completely transfixed by Riley’s excitement, unable to look away as she moved through the pits, discussing setups, tuning strategies, and suspension adjustments. Watching her like this was a special kind of torture, because my mind instantly slid toward thoughts I had no business entertaining in public. The more animated she became, the more vivid my imagination grew, providing images that sent heat straight through me. My cock stirred to life, painfully hard behind my zipper, and I shifted position, fighting for control while images of Riley’s soft curves beneath me flooded my mind.
It took everything I had not to pull her against me right there in the crowded pits, kiss her until she couldn’t think straight, and show everyone watching exactly who she belonged to. My patience frayed down to almost nothing.
It didn’t help my self-control that Riley hadn’t stopped me from kissing her these past few days. I’d stolen them every chance I got, pulling her into quiet corners of the garage, tasting her lips and feeling her soften in my arms.
I knew better than to push too hard, because Riley was still skittish. But sometimes I couldn’t resist making casual comments about the future, mentioning things we’d do months down the road or plans I had for her beyond The Pit. She never called me out on it, just gave me careful sidelong glances that made me wonder if she knew exactly what I was doing.
I’d made up my mind to take the slow road with Riley, which was probably the biggest indicator that I’d completely lost my damn mind. Patience had never been one of my defining virtues. I was a mechanic, a racer, and an enforcer. I liked problems I could identify, fix, and move past. Riley wasn't any of those things.
She was a puzzle I couldn't quite solve, and somehow that only made me want her more. Whenever she gave me another glimpse beneath the guarded exterior she presented to the rest of the world, I found myself wanting the parts she still kept hidden.
But each time I felt her relax against me, I told myself I could wait. At least a little longer, anyway. She was already becoming mine in ways that mattered, even if she hadn’t fully realized it yet. I wasn’t going to risk losing that progress by pushing too hard. Riley Mercer was a battle worth winning, and I wasn’t going anywhere until I did.
A group of pit crew guys waved her over to one of the staging lanes, and Riley immediately headed in their direction. I followed at a slower pace, my hands shoved into the pockets of my jeans as I watched how she moved through the crowd. She looked completely different here than she did inside the garage.
The caution never disappeared entirely, but racing pulled something out of her that everyday life couldn’t. The tension left her shoulders. Her smile came easier. Her eyes lit up every time somebody mentioned gearing, suspension settings, or engine performance. The woman practically glowed when she was surrounded by race cars on the track.
“Think we’re running too rich?” one of the crew members asked her, gesturing toward the open hood of a late-model Camaro.
Riley leaned over the engine bay, studying the setup for a few seconds before answering. “Maybe a little, but I’d check the data before touching the fuel map. If the air temperature dropped since your last run, it might just be compensating.”
The driver standing nearby nodded. “That’s exactly what we were seeing.”
“Then don’t go changing six things at once,” Riley replied. “You’ll never know which one actually fixed the problem.”
The driver laughed. “You sound like my crew chief.”
“Then your crew chief is smarter than most racers.”
That earned a round of laughter from everybody standing nearby, including the driver himself.
I found myself grinning as I watched the exchange. She could walk into a group of men she’d never met and have them listening within minutes because competence spoke louder than ego ever could. Every racer there respected skill above almost everything else, and Riley had plenty of it.
The more time she spent talking, the larger the crowd around her became. A couple of crew chiefs joined the conversation. Then another driver. Somebody from a bike team wandered over and started asking questions about suspension geometry. Riley handled all of it effortlessly, her attention shifting from person to person while she broke down technical issues in a way that made sense without talking down to anyone.
Damn, she was beautiful.
I dragged a hand over my jaw and looked away for a second, trying to regain some control before I did something stupid in front of half the racing community.
“Gauge.”
I glanced over to find one of the racers smirking at me.
“What?”
The bastard nodded toward Riley. “You know you’ve been just standing there staring at her for like ten minutes, right?”