Boost by Vi Summers
Chapter 33
-Raf-
Hanging with Greer twice in one week made my entire fucking year. Sure, I’d had my fill of her Friday night and Saturday morning, but damn, Sunday that woman had me heeling like a well-trained dog. I all but pissed on her doorstep to mark it as mine. And that Adrian guy… Fuck that. Territorial is what I got, and I wasn’t gonna apologize for it.
I barely found the strength to pull away from her and focus on making another coffee. It was damn near impossible with her looking at me like she was thinking all the dirty thoughts under the sun. I needed to stop by more often now that I knew exactly which condo was hers. And with mind-blowing sex like that… I mentally whistled to myself, already knowing that the world would have to implode to keep me away.
I turned with my coffee in one hand and leaned my ass against the counter opposite Greer.
“What are your plans for the rest of today?”
A sweet smile spread across her mouth. “Nothing apart from a workout with Adrian.”
I set the mug aside. “That ain’t happening. You now have other plans. With me.”
She raised her eyebrows and pinned me with the glare that never failed to get me hot. “Is that so?”
“Yup.”
“Not that you’re going all caveman about it though, right?”
“I never go caveman,” I deadpanned.
Her brows arched higher. “Ah huh. So, what plans do you have in mind?”
More hot-as-fuck sex. I rolled my tongue over my lower lip while visually mapping her legs and thighs.
“Apart from that,” she added.
My attention cut to her face to find a coy little smile. I widened my leg stance and braced one arm on the counter behind me in an extreme effort to stop myself from stepping between her open knees again. With calculated movements, I lifted the coffee to my lips and took a long sip while eyeing her over the rim.
“You tell me, mamacita; what does one do for a date here in the City of Angels?”
Truthfully, I had zero fucking clue. I’d totally winged our previous ‘date’ after the gala.
Greer hummed. “It depends on what type of person you are. Some people fine-dine.”
I snorted. “Do I look like the fine-dining type to you?”
She rolled her eyes and continued. “Some stroll through the park.”
Again, I snorted.
“Some hang at the beach, or hike.”
“Fuck, baby, does it look like I fucking hike!”
Greer crossed her arms over her tits and glared. “Well, then, how about you come up with suggestions since all of mine—which you asked for—don’t suit your ‘never dated before’ expectations!” she sassed, accompanied with snappy air-quotes around never dated before.
I leveled a glare down my nose while I thought. She had me hogtied, and I was trying to find a way out without doing something I really didn’t want to do; fine-dine and all that shit.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Come for a drive with me.”
“We’ve done that already.”
And no, I didn’t miss the way her cheeks heated with the memory of what I did to her during that drive.
“Not in my Hemi Dart, we haven’t.”
Curiosity sparked in her eyes and she reached for her phone, mumbling, “Hemi Dart,” as she Googled it.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes snapped to mine. She flashed me the image on the screen. “You own one of these?”
“I do,” I stated casually, while inside my heart was already racing out of my chest at the thought of getting behind her wheel again.
I had an eclectic taste in cars, but they all served a purpose in my life; the Supra was for the streets, the Porsche because I fucking could, the Nissan GT-R also because I could, and as for the Hemi… that one kind of landed in my lap and there was no way I was passing up that special slice of motor-racing history.
“How many cars do you own?”
“She’s the forth.”
Amusement colored Greer’s expression. “She?”
“Yes, she. All cars are female. Fact.”
Greer sniggered under her breath. “I see my car as a car, not a woman.”
I locked down a snort. “You are a woman, so you wouldn’t understand the sentiment.” I added a well-timed grin to deflect her scathing look.
A belt squeezed around my lungs as Greer slid off the counter and pressed her chest to mine. “Is she as hot as the Porsche?”
Straightening, I set both hands on her hips and tugged so they connected with mine.
“Hotter. And she makes a whole lot more noise when she gets handled just right.”
Fuck, my cock started to fill at the thought of Greer’s orgasmic cries competing with the bone-liquefying rumble of my Hemi. Her pelvis tilted just enough to rub over my growing erection, and it pulled a groan from deep in my throat.
“That hot, huh?” she teased.
“Yes, that hot.”
I chugged back the rest of my coffee like it was iced water—I suddenly had shit to do and fantasies to fulfill.
“Let’s go, baby girl,” I urged, linking our fingers and towing her toward the door.
Laughter punctuated her resistance. “Raf, stop; I need to get my bag, and shoes!”
“You won’t need either.”
“Yes, I will.”
Letting out a huff, I changed direction and strode into her bedroom. The first pair of shoes I found I thrust in her direction.
“Shoes, check. Now, fucking handbag,” I hissed, shooting glances in every direction.
“I’m not wearing stilettos with denim shorts and your t-shirt.”
I stopped dead. That combination sounded sexy as fuck. Pinning her with a glower while lowering my voice, the lust burning in my veins echoed throughout my tone.
“Humor me. Put them on.”
Although muttering, Greer bent at the waist and slipped them on. By the time she had the straps fastened around her slim ankles, I’d found a handbag that looked decent enough to me. She stood and tucked the front of my tee into her tiny shorts, then popped a hip with attitude.
My inhale hissed through my teeth as I took a long drag of air. Shapely calves connected to toned thighs, and while my t-shirt hid her womanly shape, the swell of her breasts was clear enough for me to imagine sucking them through the fabric.
“Shit, baby girl, you’re a wet dream.”
Her nose scrunched in a cute-as-fuck kind of way. “Uh, thanks?”
“Bag.” I blindly thrust it at her while my eyes licked every inch of exposed skin I hadn’t yet tasted. “And keep the heels on.”
“Louboutins were not made to go with shorts and a crew-neck, Rafael. There’s no way I’m wearing them with this.”
I turned her and pressed my front to her back. My fingers found their way into the hollow that led to the sweet spot between her legs. There, I anchored her to me and kissed along the curve of her neck, working my way to her ear when she angled to give me unhindered access.
“You could wear a burlap sack for all I care, you’d still be the first to claim my heart.”
The breath audibly expended from Greer’s lungs and she trembled in my arms. The temperature between our bodies climbed as the reality of my words trickled into the deepest recesses of our minds and hearts.
Greer craned her head back and looked up at me from under her thick lashes. “What did you say?”
I shook my head, my eyes flicking between hers. “Don’t make me say it again, baby girl.”
They were words I couldn’t utter twice—not in quick succession. I needed time to process despite them coming from my own goddamn mouth. While taking us both off-guard, they were as authentic as the God-honest truth came. It made me a pussy to want to hear something similar in return, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that was how the world worked. Hell, for all I knew, I was the only one beginning to wonder what our equation would look like long term. Like, permanently.
Greer turned in my arms and rose to meet my mouth. She kissed me with a sweetness I’d never experienced from anyone else’s lips, and fuck, it made my world blur. Just like speeding through the streets in the small hours of the morning, Greer’s kiss made me feel out of control and dancing the fine-line between this life and the next.
I chopped down a gear and took back control. Grabbed her ass and pulled her closer. Clasped the back of her head and tilted it so I could erase the sweetness that made me weak. That made me feel. That made me want to breathe the same air as her and taste each lust-filled murmur as it whispered from her lips.
“You’re making me trip too, Rafael. I just hope you know how to catch.”
Well, fuck me.
Smoothing my hands over her hips, all I wanted to do was get lost on the road map of Greer’s body; she had become my favorite interstate to cruise.
“C’mon, baby girl, we’ve got a date to take you on.”
* * *
“And here she is!” I proudly announced, ignoring Greer’s snort at the term she.
We stood in the open doorway of my rear garage and bathed in Sport Stock car glory. Well, I did. Greer, however…
“It’s nice. What is it again?”
I scoffed. “A ‘68 Hurst Hemi Dodge Dart L023. Rumored to be one of the fastest muscle cars of all time, they were pulled off the assembly line and sent to Dodge to be converted into factory-built, lightweight drag cars. The insides were stripped, windows taken out, fenders remade with fibreglass, and the doors were acid dipped.”
“Acid dipped?”
“It thins and lightens the steel door panels, mamacita. The less weight it carried combined with an engine packing that much horsepower meant for a much faster car. They became popular in the Super Stock drag racing scene during the late sixties and seventies. Only fifty were slated for production, but some say there were up to eighty-two made. Either way, they’re hella hard to come by now.”
“And you just happen to own one,” Greer deadpanned.
“Yeah, I do.”
Shit like this inflated my ego, and I wasn’t going to hide the fact that owning one of these iconic cars put me in a league of my own—well, over and above street-racing King.
“The purchase actually happened by accident a few years back; my client put it up for sale two years after I’d found it for him. He offered it to me first, and knowing how long it took to find, I jumped at the chance to purchase it. Not long after that, he filed for bankruptcy.”
“That sucks so bad.”
“For him it does.”
“Do you drive it much?” Greer asked, slowly tracking along the passenger side where the red paintwork gleamed like a freshly candied apple.
“Not as much as I’d like. The horsepower it packs will end up getting me into trouble, so I keep her for special occasions.”
A cute grin broke out over Greer’s face. “Like dates with me?”
I smirked and walked a few steps backward. “Yeah, baby, like dates with you. Let me grab the keys.”
I was all tight-chested and short of breath as I unlocked the lock-box in the internal garage where I kept all my car keys. It was welded to a steel panel set into the foundation to make it impossible to steal—a little feature I added as soon as I bought the place.
This marked the first outing in the Hemi Dart with a passenger, and I couldn’t think of anyone better to pop that cherry than Greer. She did, after all, hold my heart in one hand and my balls in the other.
When I returned to the rear garage, I glanced around in confusion, not seeing Greer anywhere. Mild apprehension gathered in my gut as I turned and strode into the sunshine.
“Greer?”
“Over here,” her melodic voice called from out of sight.
Entering my private backyard, it felt like an explosion detonated within my ribcage.
She was there, stilettos perfectly lined side-by-side on the path, standing in the middle of my manicured lawn with her arms outstretched and toes massaging the grass under her feet.
If I had the ability, I’d make a replica of her out of marble and place it exactly as she stood. Like a fucking Goddess calling me to stand with her, she further imprinted on my soul. I knew then that I would never be able to crave another again. It was her, all her, and nothing but her. Greer consumed me on every level, and as I stepped close and smoothed an arm around her waist, I longed to tell her so.
Her outstretched arms dropped to weave around my neck. “I haven’t felt grass under my feet for so long. I needed this.” She released a contented sigh and relaxed against my chest.
Wordlessly tilting her chin with my forefinger, I dropped a kiss on her expectantly parted lips and devoured her until my lungs were as breathless as my heart.