Page 32 of The Drag Race Debutante & the Detectives
Shane nodded. “Agreed.”
“Spoil sport,” Emily whispered, then blew a kiss at him.
Catching her chin between his fingers, Eric squeezed, and said, “Don’t make me put you over my knee in front of all of these people, kitten.” Her eyes immediately widened and her pupils dilated, and he was pretty sure she was about to beg him to fuck her again when Dane tapped his shoulder.
“And you think I’m bad,” he said, chuckling. “You look like you’re about to throw her over the bonnet and give her a good hard fuck.”
“I’d be down for that.” She practically sighed the words, and didn’t break eye contact for even a second.
One corner of his mouth twitched up. “Only if you’re a good girl,” he said. “And win the race.”
“What if I lose?” She pouted.
“Then prepare for a spanking,” he said.
Emily’s jaw dropped before she realised he was joking and she rolled her eyes at him. “I’m winning this race,” she said, bopping him on the tip of his nose with her finger. “You just watch me.”
“Are you done eye-banging your bitch, or what?” Shane said as he approached, then gestured for them to pop the bonnet. “Let’s see what you’re working with.”
It went against every fibre of Eric’s being to ignore the shithead’s disrespect, but one small shake of Emily’s head was enough to cool his temper and get on with the job. He also expected the arsehole to make rude comments about Dane’s car—the only other love in his brother’s life—but Shane simply grunted and looked vaguely impressed, then invited them to check out his engine.
Dane and Emily obliged while Eric stayed with the car. He didn’t trust one of Shane’s cronies not to tamper with it and do something that could cost Emily the race.
As it was, Shane seemed far too relaxed for a man about to lose his prized possession. But maybe he truly didn’t believe that Emily was any kind of threat to him. It was possible, he supposed. As those girls had said earlier, men always underestimated women when it came to cars. And unlike Eric and Dane, Shane didn’t have the advantage of knowing how kickass their woman was on the track. He’d never seen her race before. They had.
With that thought in mind, Eric couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face as he watched Shane and Emily interact. She was right. He did give off small dick energy. But wasn’t that the problem with every guy that underestimated a woman regarding everything?
He hoped he and Dane were smarter than that, but knew realistically they were going to screw up again. Not that Emily was a perfect human either.
But she was perfect for them.
“Last chance to forfeit, cutie,” Shane said, twirling his keys around his finger. “We’re talking V8s here. That’s a lot of power for a little girl. You sure you can handle it?”
Emily returned to Eric’s side, leaned into him and slid her hand over his chest, his heart. Her touch was firm and sure and just a little possessive, and his cock—which had resumed slumbering against his thigh—sprung to attention so fast it made his head spin, but he held himself in check. Focus, idiot.
“You should be less concerned about what I can handle,” Emily said, “and more concerned with what I’ll do to your car when I win.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “I wonder how much I can get for those fuck ugly rims?”
“Good thing you’ll never need to know.” Shane scowled. “Let’s race.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dane helped Emily into the driver’s seat and buckled her into the racing harness. “How are you feeling, baby?” When she didn’t immediately answer him, he stopped what he was doing and squeezed her thigh. “Emily, look at me.”
She lifted her gaze to his and nodded, but her smiled looked forced. “I’m okay. I promise.”
“Just remember, you don’t have to do this,” he said. “If you’re having any doubts at all, we can call the whole thing off right now.”
As per their meeting with Detectives Bryant and Cross that morning, Dane knew one phone call was all they needed and Hell would descend on the hoons. They also knew that some of them would get away to drag another day, but the main aim of the operation was to scoop up Spencer and his crew, and the drug dealers that always seemed to slither in and take advantage of the extra cover supplied by the crowds and chaos.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about Emily, that he would be happy if she changed her mind and called it quits on the race.
What if she got caught up in the action at the end of the night?
What if he and Eric couldn’t get to her in time and she got arrested along with everyone else?
What if she crashed?
The sudden heat of her palm on his cheek brought him back from the brink. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay, so stop worrying.”
