Home > Racer (Real #7)(15)

Racer (Real #7)(15)
Author: Katy Evans

“Is this how we’re going to play it?” he asks me then.


“This.” He motions to him and me. “Is this how we’re going to play it?”

I swallow thickly and nod. Lowering my earbud as he pries his off too, waiting for my answer. “What happened in St. Pete stays in St. Pete,” I say. “We’re going to be working closely together. And I really … think it’s best if we don’t complicate things.”

“I like them complicated.”

“I don’t.” I scowl because of his sexy grin. “Masochist,” I accuse.


I gasp. “I kissed your car with mine, you crashed your own car …”

He leans over fast and pecks my lips again.

Fast and without any advance notice.

I hear a soft moan leave me; and it makes me frown and it makes him grin devilishly.

“Stop doing that.”

“Close your eyes then,” he says meaningfully.


“Your eyes make me do shit. I’m under a spell.” That lone dimple appears.

Damn him, that dimple is going to be the end of me.

I frown. “I’m not going to argue until I sleep for a while,” I say, and he lifts the armrest between our seats and slides his arm around me, pressing my cheek to his chest as he runs his thumbs over my eyelids, making me close my eyes.

I’m stiff for a second. He snuggles his head against the top of my head. “You smell good,” he rasps.

“You smell different than my brothers.”

“Could be because I’m not your brother.” His voice rumbles under my ear.

I clutch his shirt in my fist and raise my head to look at him, and for a moment I just want this whole plane to vanish, our clothes to vanish, everything to vanish but him.

“I’m sort of your boss, Racer. You can’t play games with me,” I whisper, instead of frowning, I sound pleading.

His smile fades and he leans a little more forward, his voice a deep whisper, “I’m going to be your man. You better not play games with me,” he says.

I can’t breathe.

He leans his head, and ever so slowly, ever so exquisitely, his lips run side to side across mine.

I gasp, motionless, and shiver when his tongue slides out to lick inside of me. Just one lick, and he eases back, smiling.

I somehow stare, and he smiles, and somehow for the next seven hours until we’re woken up with breakfast, I sort of sleep with my cheek sort of against his chest, and his arm sort of around me, and I should’ve eased away, but for the first time in days, I can actually take a breath to really start to wonder about my dad and how he’s doing, and feeling his arm around me makes me stop worrying about everything at all.

Except that arm. Around me.

How delicious it feels.

How possessive it is.

And maybe how it shouldn’t be there, and yet it is.

Did I turn into a slut overnight?

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m sure it’s the jet lag and it’ll all turn to rights once I’m back with my family and back at work.

We get a cab at the airport, and Drake meets us at the hotel lobby. I feel guilty that I’ve been kissing and touching this stranger—our driver. I feel afraid that my brothers will notice and I’ll never live my sluttiness down.

I want to put some space between me and Racer as we walk down the airport aisles but at the same time I see the women passing by look at him, and I don’t like it.

I stay where I am.

Drake hugs me, and I SEE Racer turn his head and stare, his eyes a little dark.

“This is my brother, Drake. Drake, this is Racer …”

Racer’s posture eases, and he shakes his hand. “Tate,” he finishes.

“How is Daddy?”

“Good. Waiting for you two,” Drake says as he hands Racer a room key.

We step into the elevators, and I meet Racer’s gaze as we head up to my dad’s floor.

“My dad wants to meet you.”

I smile, but inside, I’m praying that this goes well.

We step off the elevator and Drake slides Dad’s room key into the slot before he lets us in. “Dad, they’re here.”

At the end of the room, my dad is in a large single chair by the corner. His face lights up when he sees me, and I notice that his eyes immediately drift away, to take in the large, dark-haired guy beside me.

“Racer Tate, my father,” I introduce.

“Sir.” They shake hands.

“Illegal street racing,” Dad says.

“I see it as just racing.”

“The law doesn’t.” He eyes him, and though his eyes look tired, there’s a spark of mischief in them. “You ready for tomorrow?”

“Born ready.”

I salivate a little over his confidence, and Drake frowns at me.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Dad says.

“A pleasure to show you. Goodnight, sir.” He nods at Dad, and I leap to my feet from where I’d dropped down at the edge of the bed. “I’ll settle him in—”

“I’ll settle him in,” Drake says. “You get some sleep. And keep him out of trouble and focused on work, Lainie. If he even stays.”

Drake follows Racer out.

Sighing, I head over to sit next to my dad and take his hand. “Are you okay?”

“I am now that my baby’s back.”

I smile and hug him, trying not to think of one day ever not having him to hug. Willing him to be all right because I’m selfish, because he’s my rock and I need him so much.

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