Page 183 of Obsession

I could read the amusement in his eyes.

“I bet it’s something involving the word ‘idiot’.”

My laughter grew even louder.

“Asshole. An asshole with a Ferrari, to be exact.”

He laughed as well.

“An asshole with an F8 Tributo, baby, please. Not just any Ferrari.”

I rolled my eyes. I’d found that out when I’d searched for it on the Internet – like the obsessive maniac I was- but he didn’t need to know that.

“So, I had my first and most incredible oral sex on the hood of a $280,000 F8 Tributo,” I concluded, realizing he was impressed because I knew the price.

He leaned towards me and took my chin between his fingers.

“And you have no idea how many more things I want to do to you on this hood,” he whispered over my lips. “And, if you are interested in the details, it’s about five hundred thousand dollars if you count the custom tune-up.”

My eyes widened as I tried not to think about how Harris could afford it. I looked at the amount he had won at the race, and it wasn’t even close to enough to afford a car worth half a million dollars at his age.

I analyzed the other cars in the garage, and I could have sworn he owned all the black cars, four to be exact. Another Ferrari, a Hummer and two others whose make I couldn’t even recognize, but he never drove those. One was on a platform and looked extremely expensive and… dangerous.

“Are the black ones yours?” Curiosity drove me to ask.

Harris was still close and nodded as I looked at him intently.

“Racing really pays that well?” I ventured as his expression changed slightly, but I could feel him tense up.

“I manage.”

I shook my head and smiled sarcastically. It was the perfect way to answer without really answering, but I didn’t want to get into it because I’d promised myself that tonight was all about relaxing.

He pointed to one of the cars.

“That Ferrari was the first car I bought with my own money. It’s a TuNero, and even though I love the F8 because it’s newer and more powerful, that one will always be special to me.”

“How old were you?” I asked, as he wanted to talk.

He smiled.

“Seventeen.”

I had no idea how expensive the TuNero was, but it was clearly nowhere near a price a teenager could afford on his own.

“I always thought your parents bought you these cars.”

He started to laugh, but it wasn’t a laugh that came from amusement. He pulled back in his chair.

“No, baby, everything I have is mine.”

I bit my lip as curiosity ate me up from the inside out, and he could feel it. He reached over and grabbed my hips, pushing his seat back, and before I could realize what he was up to, he pulled me into his lap and spread my legs around him. My butt touched the steering wheel, and I had to bend my neck forward.

“Fuck, I can’t get used to how flexible you are. I lose control every time I think about the time you put your leg on my shoulder.”

I laughed, adjusting myself over him until I was straddling him in the sexiest, most dangerous way possible. It would have been easier if I hadn’t been wearing jeans.

“That’s not even half of what I can do,” I whispered seductively over his lips, and he groaned, squeezing my thighs in his hands.

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