Page 42 of Perfect Boy

“Maybe,” he says casually. “Maybe you owe me a kiss every time I win?”

Though he says the words smoothly, I can tell he’s worried that I’ll be mad.

Quickly, he nudges me in the side lightly. “I’m just kidding. A dollar is fine.”

Taking a breath, I tilt my head upward. “If I kiss you for every race you win, what do I get when I win?” I narrow my eyes, tapping my finger against my chin.

He leans his forearms against the fence and grins. “What do you want?”

“You have to take off an article of clothing every time I win,” I say slyly and watch his eyes widen.

He brings his lips to my ear, and his deep voice is as smooth as butter. “You know, wifey, if you want me naked, all you have to do is ask.”

Rolling my eyes, I elbow his stomach. “You wish.” I shake my head.

Who wouldn’t want to see Watson Gentry naked? It’s like art. But beefy and delicious.

“And what if we choose the same one?” He raises an eyebrow. “You’re not leaving me with the shitty cars, wifey.”

“Fine then. How about this? On the ones where we choose the same car, no one wins.”

“You’re on.” He tips his chin up, taking my bet. “You’re going down though.”

After the first two cars race down the track, the car I chose wins the first race, so he peels off his hoodie. I almost feel bad because it’s a little chilly tonight. A part of me is bummed when my car wins because for some reason…I’m ready for him to kiss me. But me being me, I can’t just say that.

The next two rounds, we choose the same car, so no one wins. But when the fourth goes down and Watson’s car wins, my heart races in anticipation.

“A bet is a bet,” he says, completely amused.

Butterflies go wild inside my stomach as he steps back slowly, moving behind me. As he spins me around and backs me up to the fence, he puts one hand on my hip, and he cups my cheek with the other. When he dips his head closer, my eyes flutter shut as I wait for his lips to be on mine. My heart thunders in my ear, and even though other cars fly by us, all I can focus on is his presence.

His lips mold against mine. At first, he kisses me slowly and gently. But when I slip the tip of my tongue into his mouth, he kisses me harder before pulling my bottom lip between his teeth. Everything inside of me tingles, and I can’t stop from moaning into his mouth.

Pulling his head back slightly, he looks down at me. “Not sure that counts since I kissed you. I think you were supposed to kiss me.”

His eyes twinkle, but before he can step back, I push to my tiptoes and press my lips to his. My mouth attacks his, and I can’t even try to play it cool. Every single fiber of my being is awakened, and my entire body shivers with pure need.

Pulling back, I gaze up at him. “There. Am I paid up now?”

Slowly, he nods, keeping his hand on my hip. “Yep. That’ll do it.”

When we hear more cars approaching the starting line, I spin toward the track and lean my body against the fence. And when he crowds behind me, I feel a bulge in his jeans press against my ass. I want to wiggle against it, but I refrain.

He points toward the starting line. Through a cloud of smoke due to burnouts, two cars roll toward the line. “That’s Carson in the left lane,” he says, his deep voice close to my ear, making my entire soul vibrate. “But…he’s racing Mila Hardy.”

“A girl racer?” My mouth hangs open, and my eyes stay fixated on the black car. “Say no more. I’m going with her. She might suck for all I know, but she’s still a badass in my eyes.”

“Oh, she definitely doesn’t suck. She beat Carson a few weeks ago in the finals. No one wants to draw her name when it comes time for chip draws because if you do, there’s a pretty good chance your ass is done racing for the night.”

“Well, shit. I sort of wish I said three articles of clothing for this one. Since it seems you’ll be the one paying up,” I say playfully.

As the cars rev their engines, waiting for go time, he cups his hands over my ears.

They go zooming by us, and it’s such a close race that I don’t even know who won. When he takes his hands from my ears, I crane my neck and look at him.

“Mila’s and Carson’s cars are really loud. I just didn’t want your ears to hurt.” He shrugs.

Before I can respond, the announcer comes over the speaker, informing us that Carson picked up the win, sending Mila Hardy home.

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