Home > Racer (Real #7)(17)

Racer (Real #7)(17)
Author: Katy Evans


“So you can’t go around doing that.”

“I couldn’t help myself.” He inhales me and growls, leaning close again. “I just want to fucking kiss you right now.”

“Don’t kiss me here,” I protest. “Not on the track.”

“Where,” he grinds out impatiently.

“Somewhere else,” I breathe, stepping away before my brothers can see.

Did I just say somewhere else?

Like I want it to happen, just not here?

Judging by the look in his eyes when I glance past my shoulders, I think we both know I did.

We head to dinner that night, to celebrate.

My brothers are looking at him and me all night, and it takes all my effort not to crawl under the tablecloth. I focus on my meal and am happy to see my dad’s appetite is well and solid as they talk cars and strategy at the dinner table. Racer seems keen on hearing suggestions from the team, and I try to keep my attention on anything but him.

But I marvel over that internal radar of his, something that seems to make him aware of me because every time I lift my eyes to him, they meet his, and he’s looking at me.


I’m all packed for the Shanghai Grand Prix next, and that evening, I call home. I know what Lana’s brothers are concerned about. I’ve got a little sister. I know what I’d do if someone were thinking of her like that. I get that. I respect that. But I can’t shut my mind. Merely sensing that Lana is near I get all worked up.

“So tell me. If you had to choose something about me you like, what would it be?”

“I need to think of one thing?”

I don’t laugh.

“Who are you trying to impress here? That girl?” Iris asks.

“Just tell me what you’d like from a guy who’s after you. You like chats, flowers, what?”

“I don’t know. I don’t plan to get married, I told you so. Nothing works with me.”

I exhale in frustration. “Iris, focus here. It’s about her.”

She laughs, then sounds serious. “Wow. Am I seriously getting asked these questions by you? I thought you were going to be a successful car racer, live in a mansion like the one Iron Man has, have a butler, lots of cars, and no wife.”

“Thanks for the help, little sis.”

She laughs. “Racer, wait!” I put the phone back on my ear. “Just be real with her.”

“I don’t think girls want real, I don’t think she can take the real me.”

“Well you’ll never know until you try. Wait—hang on. Dad says fucking roses. A shit ton. Or just one.”


Dad’s old times are not our new times. But I might as well try.

At midnight, I’m knocking on Lana’s door.

She opens dressed in that blue nightie again, her nipples poking out.

The fingers of my free hand itch, while I extend out the ones holding the twelve roses in my grip.

“I got you some flowers.”

“What for?” She blinks at me and I look down at her, smiling.

“For your room. Hell, I don’t know. Throw them away if you want.”

“No! I’m …” She blushes and takes them from my hand, quickly setting them aside.

I drag my hand across my face. “Sex I’m used to. This is kind of a first.”

“What’s this.”

I shrug. Lean against the door.

“I think about you, Lana. The way you walk, and talk, the way you look at me, the way you stand there, the way you smell, even the way you dress.”

“It’s nothing special.”

“Doesn’t look unspecial from here.”

“Um Racer …”

She exhales, looking at me, and I look at her and see her nipples, want to touch them, suck them, and I can’t snap out of it for a long time. I know she’s worried we work together and I shouldn’t kiss her, but I don’t have any qualms about that. I reach out. “You going to stand there and look gorgeous in that nightie or are you going to let me run my tongue over what’s beneath?” I rasp.

I touch her lips in a way I want to touch my mouth to hers, and she flushes wild.

“I … someone can see you here. Come in.”

She’s blushing beet red, and I walk in, scanning her room, and then her lovely ass and legs as she walks to her room. I shift and move my cock, look down at my palms, rub them together before I rub them down my jeans.

“You can’t keep coming over here to tell me anything. Here, write down my text.”

She leans over me to get her phone, and I smell her, her skin inches away. I reach out, put my hands on her waist, and draw her down to my lap. My mouth searches, finds, and fucking seizes her, and I fucking kiss her like I wanted to from the moment I saw her standing there last night.

“What are you doing?”

“This,” I murmur, licking into her mouth. I brush her hair back, looking into her pretty eyes, round with shock. If nobody’s ever gone after her like this, I’m fucking glad, but I’m not backing off. I grab the back of her head, press her closer. I need a deeper taste, fucking explore that mouth, warm wet and minty.

Fill my hands with her ass, shift her so my cock is right up against her opening. She feels damn good and I’m getting worked up.

“I want this now.”

She groans, but she’s breathing heavily, her pupils dilated.

“I want this. You. Me, this. I want this now.”

“Now now?” she gasps.

I laugh, let her go and run my hand through my hair, grinning. “Not now now, but now.”

She shakes her head. “My dad …” She shakes her head. “We can’t. We don’t even know each other.”

“I want to know more. I want to know everything about you. Physical, mental, the shit that matters to you.”


“I don’t know. You tell me what it is about you.” I run my thumb down her cheek, and to be honest I don’t care what it is. I just know it’s there and I just know it’s her.

“Trust me, there’s nothing special about me.”

“There’s so much special I don’t know where to begin.”

“Please get some sleep, Racer. We have qualifying tomorrow.”

I lean back and smile. “I’m not tired.”

“Well tire yourself out!”

I take her hand before she turns away. “One day soon I’m going to take you out on a drive with me and you’ll never be the same.”

“Is that why you rented some fancy car?” she says. She seems to realize I never told her this detail, and she blushes. “I overheard you and Clay talking about which one you should rent. Something fast.”

“For such little ears, they sure seem to work right.”

She laughs.

Damn, I want her in my car, the wind in her hair, I want to play some tunes and hear her laugh about them. Reach out to shift gears, and put my hands in her thighs instead.

“Maybe. If you let me drive.” She smirks.

“Fat chance. I’m the driver here,” I growl, laughing.

I fall sober after a moment.

“I want this now, crasher,” I repeat.

So, yeah you could say I’m relentless. You could say I’m the sort of guy who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid of anything, not the law, or the rules. I’m my father’s son. I like to go for what I want. Chase my ambitions.

I want this girl beneath me and that’s that.

I’m Racer Tate and this girl is mine.


I tried to ignore him as we traveled to Shanghai. My brothers are keeping a watchful eye, and my dad, whose stamina I worry about, is better off concentrating on our goal at hand.

We traveled for nearly a full day, nonstop, then crashed in our rooms, recovering before setting up our tent at the Shanghai race track.

Now we’re looking to be in top shape after our best practice session to date.

“This guy’s fucking insane.”

Drake laughs, while Racer eases out of the car and pulls off his helmet. His hair is a little wet and rumpled, and as he unzips the top of his Nomex suit and pulls it down to his waist, the white undershirt he’s wearing plasters to his muscular chest like second skin.

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