Page 9 of Ignite

“You won’t. We need to get you to a hospital, so chop, chop, Conan.”

She slips her arm around me, guiding me toward her car like she’s done this a thousand times. But then I see it.

Low grumble. Matte deep blue wrap.

Holy fuck.

“Is that the Shelby GT500 Heritage Edition?” I ask, even though I already know.

“Yes. Supercharged. Remapped. The works. Now, get in. Please.”

She flicks her gaze to my leg, blood soaking through my pants.

The interior hits me with the smell of cherries as I collapse into the passenger seat, dragging my leg in with a grunt. As she slides behind the wheel, I finally get a full look.

And damn. I’m fucked.

If I wasn’t bleeding out, my dick would be harder than steel.

She catches me staring.

“What? Never seen a woman drive a powerful car before?” she snaps, eyes on the road.

Feisty.

“No, darlin’. I’m not judging. I’m admiring.”

The way she handles this beast—smooth, precise, fearless—it’s almost erotic. She weaves through traffic like it’s child’s play.

“Yeah?” She flicks her eyes to me, and my heart pounds.

She’s beautiful. Sharp jaw. Soft lips. Hazel eyes that could pin a man in place. Her curls frame her face like she walked off adream and into a car ad. Then her eyes snap back to the road, and I exhale.

I run my hand over the carbon fiber dash.

“She’s a beautiful beast.”

“She’s my baby.” She taps the wheel, smiling like she means it. Wind lifts her hair, and I forget all about the pain in my leg.

“Where’d you learn to drive like this?”

“My dad. We used to fix up his cars and he’d take me on track days. I’ve tried to keep up the legacy, I guess.”

There’s a hitch in her voice. A flicker of pain she tries to bury.

“Sorry,” I say. “Bet he would be proud of you, though.”

She shrugs and tucks a curl behind her ear.

“I guess.”

I swallow hard. I know that kind of pain. I live with it. Mom’s face in that hospital bed used to haunt me. Still does.

“What’s the fastest you’ve gone in this beast?” I ask, needing the shift.

She side-eyes me at the red light.

“You aren’t a cop, are you?”

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