Page 17 of Rugger: The Huntress

The keyring that was supposed to be at the valet stand was airborne before it landed in my hands.

“You want me to drive your car?” I chuckled, genuinely amused.

“It’s not that I want you to. You want to. It seems as though you like what you see. A quick lesson is nothing in comparison to–”

“Experiencing it.”

“You learn fast.”

“With an MSRP of two hundred thousand dollars, the GT 63 is a rather pricey Mercedes. It is worth every dime, in my opinion. It’s the perfect combustion of luxury and speed. The V8 engine is no toy and is not to be mistaken for one. All wheel drive makes it a smooth ride, but the eighteen miles per gallon average could use some improvement. Zero to sixty in under three and a half seconds isn’t bad either. The 577 hors–”

“A lesson isn’t necessary, I take it. Maybe there are other things we should be discussing. Perhaps your ring size. I think I’m in love already,” sniggering, he pulled the door of his car open.

“Silence is always an option.”

The engine would speak for itself. I’d rather hear it purr than my pussy as he continued lacing his words with sex so damn effortlessly and unintentionally.

“Silence is an option,” he agreed.

The smell of fresh leather assaulted my nostrils. The familiar scent made my skin raise with fine, painful bumps. With a push of a button, the engine came to life.

My heart pounded against my chest cavity as I floored the gas pedal, burning the rubber of Eric’s tires long before I switched the gear. But, when I did, I catapulted us into traffic. Easily, I bypassed the standstill line, opting to travel down the wrong side of the lot because my lack of patience wouldn’t allow me to sit in waiting.

“SHIT,” my passenger breathed out, loudly.

My eyes never left the windshield as I shifted the gear a second time. When the car recognized the change, it opened for me.

Perfect timing.

The parking lot was behind us and I was testing the theory.

One.

Thirty.

Two.

Forty-three.

Three.

Fifty-seven.

Four.

Seventy-one.

There hadn’t been a lie told. Though Chemistry’s ride had proved it could reach sixty miles per hour before the fourth second, I couldn’t help myself.

The highway ramp was where we reached one hundred miles an hour. The lack of congestion had my palms itching and my breath caught in my throat. There weren’t many things besides death that excited me.

But speed.

Speed was one of those things. Engineering was the other. Chemistry Jru was the final one. Even hearing her name launched me into another universe. A far-far away place. Somewhere perfection did exist and she was evidence.

122.

Everything around us blurred. Darkness sheeted the car, but every millisecond a burst of light shined through the tint.

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