Page 4 of Driving Wild

Sliding down into my chair, I turn my phone off so that I don’t have to watch the damn thing light up with more incoming chats.

Three hours later, the only thing I’ve managed to do is nothing. Absolutely nothing. Other than staring at my monitor, I’ve been trying to figure out how I can survive two months acting like I’m in love with the man who turns my insides into mush but also makes me want to throttle him at every turn.

Checking my calendar, I notice that I have a meeting with some of the other PR team members get up deciding it’s time to head that direction. Opening my door, I come face to face with my new husband, Matt freaking McCall.

“Well, hello, wife,” he says in his Southern drawl. “We need to have a little chat.” He slowly backs me up into my office. Looking at me like a lion looking as his prey. His sent starting to overwhelm me something like a mixture of pine and racing fuel. Dammit, I shouldn’t be turned on by it, but my knees grow a little weak as he stalks even closer to me. Double damn him.

“Quite the mess you seem to have gotten us into with that little stunt of yours last night, Red.” He continues to walk me back toward my desk. Granted, the space isn’t large, so when my ass hits said desk, I gasp as he steps into my space.

“So, wife, we need to have a little chat.” He runs his hand along my skirt and up my waist to hold me in place where my ass has landed on the desk.

Looking up into his blue eyes, I see that fire I love to sass so much. “And what exactly do you want to talk about, husband? I’ve got a meeting to get to, and you’re in my way.” Slowly, I try to push away from him.

Brushing the hair back from my face, he stepped closer into my body. “You’re mine, Red, for the next two months. I’m going to tease the ever-loving hell out of you. I’ve watched you strut around with Tinley for far too long after our night together. But pay very close attention; rubbed his hand down this firm chest and toward his jeans, you can’t touch this, you’re going to have to beg me and then admit you want me before you get anything. You signed up for this, remember that.”

Stepping away from me he said. “I’ll see you at home, wife. I think you know where it is.”

And with that little statement, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing at my desk flustered. Turning to get my papers for the meeting. I let my hands rest on the edge, trying to calm my racing heart.

The rest of the day goes on without a hitch, from my new team-member orientation to meetings about Mila coming into town and getting her settled into her new townhouse. Funnily enough, it’s close to Matt. I video-chatted with her just a little to let her know what we needed to do next week. I was more than ready to go home when five o’clock hit. The only issue was that I wasn’t going to my apartment. I was going to Matt's house, and my heart sank just a little.

But if he wants a wife, he’s going to get one.

Today has been the day from hell.

Not only do I have a fake wife, but we’re saddled with one another for the next two months. And we need to make the media believe that we’re in love and can’t keep our hands off one another. The last thing I need is this to blow up in my face and risk my contract renewal. Add in that I have to deal with Mila becoming a part of our team. An I’m beyond stressed at the moment.

It’s of course important to bring a female driver on and add her into a male-driven sport. And it’s great that Mac wants her to be a part of our boys’ club. Mila had been on my radar for a little while. I had watched her come through the ranks of the smaller divisions, so it was only a matter of time before she came up to the big show. Honestly, I’m glad our team snatched her up because she will bring a lot of focus onto us as a unit.

Ugh, running my hands through my hair I think of my wife, Grace. Grace Miller, laughing to myself, she’s drop-dead gorgeous, and I know that it won’t be a problem showing that we are married outside the walls of my house. That smart mouth is what I’m going to have an issue with. Every time she opens it there is some level of sass that comes with it; And the more she’s around me the more I want her on her knees sucking my cock so I don’t have to listen to what comes out of it. That may make me sound like an ass, and honestly, I’m okay with that, but the woman just gets under my skin, and I don’t know how to break the spell. We had one night, and it has played over in my head since then. It’s like she was a siren calling a captain to shore. Shaking my head to try and focus on what I have ahead of me I turn toward the one room that I can have the quiet I need.

Walking into the simulation room, I see all the monitors set up and a single car frame sitting in the center of the room. Taking a deep breath, I walk in slowly. Normally when I come in here to practice for next week’s race, it’s my one place that I don’t have to be on—just me and the screens in front of me. Needing to get focused on the race at hand and block out the shit show that has become my life today. Putting in my specs for the sim, I get to work. Miami is a tough track and one that has always been a pain in my ass. It doesn’t matter how much I’m in this machine or on the track, I just can’t quite keep it under me. But I’m determined to figure it out this time around come hell or high water.

Two hours—that’s how long it took until I was ready to throw my steering wheel at the damn monitor. Frustrated, I decide to call it a day and head home. The only problem is I now have a “wife” in my space when I get there. My place is the one spot where I can just be me; I don’t have to put on a show or be this perfect driver. But you know what, to hell with it. She wants to put us in this spot, so she’s going to get that version of me. I shouldn’t have to act differently. Hell, I may even turn it up a notch just to make her suffer.

Bringing my Charger to life, I decide to make a little stop on the way home. She wants a husband, and she’s going to get one. The only difference is I’m not the doting kind. I’m the kind who’s going to walk around all day in those gray sweatpants women love so much, and all my shirts will magically disappear. We’ll see how she likes that.

“Honey, I’m home,” I yell as I throw my keys in the bowl beside the door. I turn on my daily playlist of old country music as soon as I walk in. Granted, that’s the one normal thing I’m not going to change. What in the holy hell is that smell? It’s like chocolate and a skunk mated and took up shop in my house. Following the smell, I pause just as I get a look at that beautiful peach-shaped ass in the air bent over my oven. Dammit. Nope, I am not going to act on my instinct to go over and smack the hell out of it or bend her over the counter and fuck her for making my house smell this bad. Shaking my head, I watch her for another minute while she sways those gorgeous hips. That’s when I notice she has her earbuds in. She hasn’t even heard me, so I give her a second to put the hot pan down before I make my presence known. The last thing I need is second-degree burns after she throws that at me. Flashback come of books she launched at my head a few months back—the girl’s got an aim I’ll giver her that.

“What the hell, Matt?” she yells, turning around to see me staring at her like a creeper.

“What in the fuck have you done to my kitchen, Red?” I say, stepping closer to her. I backed her up to the counter, trapping her in with my arms on both sides of her body. I’m starting to see a pattern when I’m close to this woman—she makes me become a bit of a caveman.

“The last thing I wanted when coming home from my shit of a day is to see my ‘wife’ turning my kitchen into a war room. What are you making, and why does it smell so bad in here?” I ask, trying to relax just a little to the country music playing in the background.

“Well, husband, if you must know, they’re gluten-free chocolate chip cookies.”

“Who the fuck would eat those? They smell like ass. Open the damn windows. I don't even think one of those big ass Yankee Candles could fix this smell. It’s going to be in the furniture,” I say, getting even closer to her.

Blinking up at me, she smirks. “Just so you know, a lot of people are gluten-free, me included, and after the meeting and phone calls with my family today, the only thing I want to do right now is to sit down, eat these cookies, and watch a movie. So if you don’t like it, too bad. I suggest you get used to the smell because this isn’t the only batch I’m going to make.”

Dammit, that sassy mouth again. Running my hand along her neck, I so want to collar her and punish her for what she’s done. But I don’t; this isn’t real, and I need to keep things in check. Watching her reaction, I notice her eyes dilate when I apply a little pressure to her neck. Yeah, I know you like it rough, Red, but you’re going to have to suffer before that happens, I think to myself. Then I drop my hand. “Clean up the mess, and for the love of God, open a window,” I say before walking away. I need a cold shower and some strong will power to get through the next two months.

After my shower, I decide it’s time to make her suffer some, so I slip into my sweats—minus underwear and shirt. I make my way out to the living room to find her relaxing on the couch with The Fast and the Furious movie on the TV. “Well, what do we have here? A million things on Netflix, and you pick the one movie that I would watch,” I say, coming to stand in front of her just so she can look at the goods. And by the slow perusal of my body, I know she’s enjoying the view. And just like I thought would happen, the longer she stares, the more my body starts to react. She may have The General coming to the party, but that’s all she’s going to get. I might be turned on by her, but she can be damn sure that I can hold out.

“See something you like, Red?” I can’t help but smirk at her seeing as she’s been caught looking a little longer than necessary.

Suddenly, she’s clearing her throat, and I can’t help but feel good about myself.

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