“And Alyssa doesn’t get jealous,” Gavin teases.
I snort. “If you knew Alyssa… and if you knew the relationship she and Brody have together, you’d never ask that.”
“So, Brody is like your best friend?”
“No. I don’t have one of those, but he’s probably my closest.”
“The one that knows all your secrets?” Gavin asks as he turns to me for a brief glance.
“He knows one,” I tell him mysteriously.
“Hmmm,” Gavin says as he strokes a finger over his chin. “Are you going to share with me?”
“Maybe one day… but not today,” I tell him firmly.
We reach the 440 beltline and I point to Gavin to take the second exit that will have us heading back east. Traffic is light, and he smoothly transitions onto the highway. I watch as he flicks the gearshift. As he speeds up, he uses his fingers to pull at a paddle behind the steering wheel.
“What are you doing?” I ask with interest, because the engine revs louder with each pull on the paddle.
“I’m in manual mode now. These paddles are gear shifters,” he says as the car leaps forward when he shifts again.
I can feel the vibration of the engine through the creamy, leather seats and hear it scream in abandon as the car surges forward. He moves us into the far left lane and we fly past the other traffic that seems to be standing still.
“Why use the paddles to shift if the car does it automatically for you?” I ask as I watch him shift up and then down again when he slows to a more reasonable speed.
He turns his head to look at me, rolling his eyes in the process. “You’re a woman. What could you possibly understand about a V8 Ferrari-built engine that goes zero to sixty in five seconds flat?”
Laughing, I tell him, “Considering that just sounded like gibberish to me, clearly I don’t understand a thing.”
“Exactly,” he says as he exits onto US 264, a four-lane highway that’s practically deserted. “But I have an idea.”
Gavin starts to slow the car and pulls off onto the right shoulder. When he puts it in park, he undoes his seatbelt. “Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Get out. You’re going to drive so you can feel what real power is like underneath you.”
“No way,” I protest.
“Chicken,” he counters.
I glare at him.
“Anti-heroine,” he says with a sly grin.
“Fine,” I grumble, throwing off my seatbelt.
Gavin and I switch places. After I get the seat adjusted and my seatbelt back on, he points out some of the basic features.
“What about the paddles?”
“I’ll let you try those later. Right now, we’ll just leave it in automatic.”
After I put the car in drive and check my side mirror to see that no traffic is coming up on me, I gingerly push on the gas pedal and the engine screams as it leaps forward. I immediately hit the breaks in surprise, which causes the car to slam to a stop, throwing Gavin forward, his hands slapping hard on the dashboard.
“Holy shit,” I exclaim.
Gavin busts out laughing and pats me on the leg. “The accelerator is very responsive. Give it a gentler push.”
I try again, softer this time, and the engine hums for me as the car creeps forward. I put on my blinker and slowly merge onto the highway, gradually accelerating up to the speed limit.
My hands grip the steering wheel with white knuckles as I realize all of a sudden that I’m driving a $140,000 vehicle.
Then they start to sweat.
“Relax,” Gavin croons at me. “You’re doing fine.”
“I don’t want to wreck your car. It would take me a lifetime to pay it off,” I mutter.
“That’s what insurance is for,” he says casually. Then he demands, “Go faster.”
I push a little more firmly on the accelerator and the Maserati leaps under my request, the engine growling sexily at me. I can’t help the smile that comes to my face.
“Nice, right?” Gavin says.
“Oh, yeah,” I agree, and my smile goes wider.
“You’re f**king sexy as hell,” Gavin says so softly that I almost doubt I heard him right.
I turn to spare him a glance… and his eyes are pinned on me, the gray irises darkened, even with the noon sun sparkling bright. I swallow hard, because it’s the same look he gave me the other night, when I told him to touch me between my legs.
A tingling sensation spreads out from the back of my neck and my thighs involuntarily clench together, as I turn my eyes back to the road.
Gavin’s left arm raises up and his fingers skim along the back of my neck, pushing upward over the base of my skull and sifting through my hair. “Have you thought about the other night?” he murmurs.
My hands grip the steering wheel harder and my foot eases up off the accelerator a tiny bit, but words are stuck in my throat. I’m afraid to say anything.
“I have,” he admits softly as he shifts in the seat and leans closer to me. “I’ve thought about it a lot. About what I could have done differently.”
“Gavin—” I croak, but he cuts me off.
Bringing his right hand across, he places it on my knee and starts sliding it up my thigh. My pulse skyrockets and my foot actually falls off the gas pedal, as it’s almost impossible for me to concentrate on driving while he’s touching me.
“Speed back up, Sweet,” he whispers as he leans closer and sticks his nose under my ear. “Don’t want a cop to pull you over for going too slow.”