Page 11 of Burn It Down

“Dad, Jake just wants to help.” I hope like hell I’m right.

My dad looks at the glass still littering the floor and then flits his gaze between me and Jake. “If you’re sure, we appreciate it, but we can’t pay you back. I just want to be clear about that.”

“Understood, sir.”

My dad and Cassie share a conspiratorial glance before my sister starts speaking to Jake again. “Dad and I will finish cleaning this up, why don’t you two take the Maserati for a spin and make sure everything is how you want it? Dylan said there was still a slight tremble when he made a right turn, but he couldn’t tell what was causing it.”

My brows pinch together in confusion. “I never s—”

“Uh, Cassie’s right,” my dad chimes in, albeit hesitantly. “Dyl, don’t you remember? You said you weren’t sure if it drove like that before the accident or not? Go with him and let him tell you.”

Oh my God. My family is trying to set me up with a straight billionaire who’s on some hero mission.Real smooth, guys.

I can’t help my snorted laugh as I slap Jake on the back. What the hell, I’ll play along. “You got time?”

“I’ll make time.” His voice is low, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up.

Cassie nudges her shoulder into mine as I pass, letting Jake lead the way into the bay, but my father grabs my shoulder, holding me back for a second.

“Just be careful, son. His kind of money changes good men and I don’t want to see your heart get broken whenhe decidesyour differences are too great.”

I appreciate the warning even if it stings, but I’m just out for a quick ride in a sick car with a hot guy in an effort to make this day somehow different than all the others surrounding it.

The keys to the Maserati are still hanging on the board inside the shop door, but the bottle opener keychain makes it easy to locate amongst the rest. I hadn’t realized until just now that it has Beautiful Deceit’s logo on it.Guess he really is a fan.

I toss them to him and head for the passenger door, my heart racing. I appreciate what my family is trying to do, but making me hopeful for a lost cause isn’t really all that helpful. I’veseenthe woman he’s with. She’s a total knockout…and she’s ashe. At best, Jake is bi, but I really don’t think that’s the case.

“You’ll have to navigate for me,” he says, stepping over the cables on the floor.

“No problem. I know this side of the tracks isn’t familiar territory.” I meant it as a joke, but he stops as he reaches the car, spreads his arms wide, and places his palms on the roof.

“Just because my life is on a different side of town doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with this one.”

I appreciate his willingness to overlook the discrepancy in our socioeconomic status as he considers our business for hisfuture needs, but it feels awkward to just pretend it isn’t there at all. Nonetheless, I nod while an unnamed emotion clogs my throat and I watch as the Maserati’s doors rise like those on the Batmobile.

Since making the joke about him having a hundred thousand dollars to spare, I’ve realized this car is actually worth closer totwohundred thousand dollars and I savor every detail.

Jake and I are both right at six feet tall, but instead of being stuffy, the interior is comfortably snug for the two of us. With no backseat, the front seat reclines as much as I need it to and while I can’t spread out, my knees aren’t in my chest either.

When he presses the button on the steering column to start the car, I feel the rumble in my balls.

I fucking love this feeling.

Although it’s not my first choice, there’s no denying this Maserati has a fuck-ton of power under the hood.

“Ready?” he asks, cocking a half grin that has my dick begging me to drive the heel of my hand into it.

I nod once, clenching my teeth, trying to rein in the lust pummeling through me.

He revs the engine and can’t possibly know how much he’s turning me on right now. His jacket and tie are both thrown in the small space behind us and I work on controlling my breathing while he rolls his shirtsleeves up his forearms.

His smooth, muscular forearms…where his veins are popping.

Fuck my life.

“You always go through this routine before a trip around the block?” I joke in an effort to decrease the mounting tension in my chest…and my pants.

He stays quiet and just smirks from the driver’s seat.

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