Page 13 of Speed Trap

CHAPTER SIX

SUNNY

Ispent the night dreaming of a certain race car driver who haunted me with a sinful smile and clever hands that brought bursts of pleasure to my body everywhere he touched me.

A driver I wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near, let alone flirting with or dream about.

When I woke, I instinctively reached for the phantom of the man I had spent the night with, but I only encountered the cold, starched sheets of my bed. My own bed, where I hadn’t had a male visitor in…forever.

Not that I was a virginal princess by any means, but the few relationships I had tried never made it past the first few months. Between the seasonal travel and a boss like Benson, my dream version of a boyfriend—the quiet, thoughtful type who was more likely to read poetry in another language than a racing manual, not the one who tortured me the night before—never stood a chance.

Not against the aggressive alpha males who dominated the racing world.

Benson seemed to take a personal interest in removing anything—andanyone—who crept into my life. Anything thatmight distract my attention fromhim, as though he should be able to control every hour…even outside the racetrack.

Apparently dominating our corner of the racing world wasn’t enough.

Being on the circuit had the side benefit of passing through my hometown. On the rare occasion I got to sleep in my own bed and slip into the office that my previous boss leant me for personal use.

While the drivers moved on to the next track at the beginning of the season I claimed a brief reprieve to see my sister, and had a chance to concentrate on my own fledgling business. Something I kept secret from Benson in the event he decided to stake his claim on that, too.

That Hawk had walked into my career and started to unravel the proverbial rug out from beneath me one string at a time was terrifying, sexy as hell and a touch amusing. Benson would flip if he saw Hawk continued flirting with me…though that put my career in jeopardy, which was where the terrifying bit came in.

To be fair, Hawk had that same, intense personality that bordered on obsessive tendencies as my boss. I was never sure if I should be flattered, aroused or run the hell away when he turned up at random places away from the track. I’d seen him outside the soup kitchen once, and again when I had gone grocery shopping. Surely the city was big enough for us not to run into each other endlessly.

Which brought me back to the night I had spent in the arms of a phantom, all because of the driver who refused to leave me alone and my under-sexed over-worked personal life that needed some serious stimulation.

I threw my arms over my head and let out a groan.

“Are you okay in there?” my sister called through the thin walls of our shared townhouse.

Shared, when I spent less than six months of the year in the building.

“I’m fine,” I yelled back. A different sort offinethank I used with Benson on the phone, though the meaning remained the same. Jamming a pillow over my face and more than a little desperate for a place to let out the sexual frustration that had built within me after a crappy night’s sleep I muttered every curse word I could summon on demand. Not that I knew who I aimed them at. Hawk or Benson both seemed decent targets right now.

My bedroom door clicked open. I peeked out from beneath my pillow to stare at a face that almost mirrored my own.

“Doesn’t sound like it.” Honey leaned against my door frame bearing a mug of steaming coffee in each hand. “Sorry I was asleep when you came in last night.”

I waved the comment away, returning to the dim light my pillow provided, though it was a pathetic shield from the rest of the world. “I’ll get up. I will do something useful today. And I won’t dream about sexy race car drivers.” I tossed the pillow in the air, catching it again before it gave me a wake up slap in the face.

“Driver?” Honey perched on the edge of my bed, holding out a mug. “Like Benson, your driver? A budding workplace romance?”

“Not Benson.”

The thought of intimacy with my boss left my empty stomach flipping over on itself, and not in a good way.Damnit. Dinner hadn’t happened last night. Again. Not only was my circadian rhythm being thrown out by my wacky work hours, but I’d also started snacking like a nocturnal beast as well.

I shoved my pillow aside, hoisting myself out of my sheets to grab my coffee. My pajamas were covered in sweat and stuck to me in random places. I plucked at the material with no smallmeasure of disgust, though heat rushed to my cheeks at the fading memory of the dream racer’s touches last night.

Honey raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing glance. “Like that, is it?”

“It’s Hawk.” His name tripped on my tongue too smoothly. “I hate him. He’s infuriating.” No, that wasn’t fair. Benson was those things. Hawk was… “Okay, fine. I might like some things about him, but he’s still an asshole,” I grumbled, sipping my coffee and winced. “Burnt beans?”

Honey held out her other hand, fingers extended that she folded down as she verbally ticked off her list. “Charity owner. Research assistant. Broke. Overpriced apartment. Dregs are what we’ve got.”

This last came out in a singsong voice that told me how close to cracking she was.Looks like we have something in common this morning.My big sister smiled at me over her cup, her unperturbed facade firmly back in place.

That she scraped up a living—if you could call it that—from more than one job while I swanned around the countryside on my own hot lap ate at me. I promised myself that while ever I was in town I would make more time to volunteer hours at the kitchen.

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