Boost by Vi Summers

 

Epilogue—Part A

-Greer-

 

 

-Four months later-

 

 

Clutching my clothes to my chest, I crept from our bedroom while Raf snored softly in bed.

The edge of excitement had me shaking as I stood in the darkened bathroom and wiggled my way into the skin-tight pants as quietly as I could. The gold top was a cinch—just a tie behind my back and it was sorted.

Smothering a nervous giggle behind my hand, I tip-toed to the end of the bed and bent to strap my feet into the stilettos. Once righted, I tousled the length of my hair and took a deep breath.

“Raf,” I whispered, despite wanting to wake him. “Rafael!”

Sleepy movements came from the bed as he rolled over. “What is it, mamacita? What you doin’ out of bed?”

“It’s time to get up.”

He reached for his phone with a heavy groan and squinted at the illuminated screen. “It’s after midnight!”

“And time to get up,” I repeated through a laugh.

I was vibrating with the adrenaline of doing something so out of character for me, and I felt like a little rebel. This wasn’t the first time Rafael had that effect on me, and I wasn’t one bit sorry.

“Why?”

“Because. Light’s coming on,” I warned.

Without giving him time to react, I flicked the bedroom light switch and laughed when he sat up in bed, wearing nothing but a scowl and a diamond earring. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust, and when they did, they widened and skimmed the length of my body.

He rolled his tongue over his lower lip. “This is one hell of a wake up call, baby girl. C’mere.”

I slowly made my way around the bed, reveling in the way he hungrily tracked my movements. The smirk I adored appeared, and warm hands wove around my bare waist when I arrived at his side.

Raf leaned close and grazed his lips across the valley between my breasts. I briefly allowed myself to indulge in his touch; running my hands over his short hair and massaging as he kissed his way back and forth across my cleavage.

I suppressed a hum of pleasure and forced my mind to return to the reason I’d woken him at this hour.

“Get dressed, slick. You and I have somewhere to be.”

He looked up at me while nestling his chin between my bust. “Do we just? And where would we be going in the early hours of a weekday morning?”

“Hmmm.” I tapped my pursed lips and feigned a deep thought. “Oh, I don’t know. Just a drive somewhere.”

“Anywhere in particular? Or, do I have to use my instinct to make an educated guess?”

“I’m sure you’ll work that out for yourself.” I grinned widely and was gifted by a deep chuckle that reverberated across my skin.

“Get dressed, Raf.”

As much as I salivated over my man wearing nothing but the ink under his dark skin, I doubted that men turning up in just that was acceptable—even for the King himself.

He eased out of bed without letting me go. “Do you mind making me a coffee, please? I’ll be down in two minutes.”

“Of course.” I kissed him quickly, then giggled while fending off his hands that demanded to explore my body.

“Focus, Rafael. Get in the zone.”

His heated gaze looked me over again, and his voice came gritty. “Baby, I am in the zone.”

Clicking my fingers, I spurred him to take action. Arlo had given me a heads-up about the meet tonight—thanks to his unnamed sources. It had been months since Raf attended a race, and I knew he was missing it terribly.

He didn’t say outright, but I saw the twitch of his knee late at night and the repetitive checking of his watch. It made my heart ache to see him trying so hard to ignore the longing that pulled from deep within his bones, and I couldn’t wait to see him in his element again tonight.

I stood in our kitchen, dressed in the same outfit I’d worn the first time Roxiee and I naively attended our first street race; stilettos, skin-tight leather pants, and a top that revealed far too much cleavage to feel secure, and made coffee as if this was my normal after-midnight routine.

I filled two glass travel mugs and had them in-hand by the time Raf jogged down the stairs, fully dressed. Although it was his usual attire—dark jeans and a crew neck, plus black boots—my heart still did a double-skip at the sight.

“What time are we aiming for?” he asked, after dropping a kiss to my mouth and accepting his coffee.

“Two.”

“All I want to do is peel those off and bury deep in you again,” he grumbled.

I squirmed my legs together. “While that idea is more than appealing, we have somewhere to be.”

Excitement danced in his eyes. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I know.”

Something else entered his gaze. Something I couldn’t decipher. Something that made me wary.

“Is everything okay?”

We’d been living together for three months now, and recently he’d had fleeting moments of acting a little strange.

Raf shook away his thoughts and graced me with his signature cock-sure smile.

“Everything’s good, baby girl. Now, let’s ride.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

-Raf-

 

 

Tonight was like every other time I headed to a meet, only so much better with Greer in the passenger seat looking fuckable in that damn outfit. It took me back eight months to the moment I first laid eyes on her—the moment I also laid an unconscious claim to her body. And now I had the heart and soul to go with it in one tight package of pure-fucking-perfection.

Heading across town in my Supra, I glanced over at Greer and snickered. “How’d you know about tonight, mamacita?”

Her smile cast light on the night around us. “I have my ways.”

And I had mine. Though tonight was different. I’d made decisions over the last while, and Greer pulling this little stunt tonight was the confirmation I’d been waiting for.

For many reasons, tonight was the last and first nights of my life as I knew it, and I was as nervous as fuck. I was sure Greer had noticed the shift in me; no matter how hard I tried to hide it, I couldn’t completely. The truth was, I was about to do something monumental, and I was shitting myself.

The closer we got to the meeting point, the more kitted-out cars joined us on the road, all heading in the same direction. The crowd came into view as soon as we entered the vacant lot.

Music. Under-car neon lights. Scantily clad women. Joints being passed. Engines revving. It brought it all back; my love for the street, and also my reasons for letting it go.

I parked up and met Greer at the hood. Tucking her under my arm, I waited for Shades to show himself. It wouldn’t take long; word here spreads faster than I took a quarter mile.

Sure enough, only a minute elapsed before Shady Sam appeared through the crowd.

“My man, Raf! How you beeeen, brother?”

“Good, bro, good.” I slapped my hand in his and hauled him in.

“Hmm, you brought the honey with ya tonight, huh?”

I smiled over my shoulder at my woman. “Sure did. Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.”

“You riding tonight, brah?”

“You know it.” Extracting a roll of cash from my jeans, I held it up before tossing it into his open hand.

“Good timing. I’ve got another cocky little shit for ya to kick down a peg or ten.”

My interest piqued. “Yeah?”

“Yup,” Shades replied while tucking the money away. “Been here twice before, slingin’ like his shit don’t stink. He’s good, though, Raf. He got dem skills.”

I pursed my lips and eyed Shades. I trusted his instinct. If he said the kid had skills, then I needed to find out exactly how much.

“He here?”

“Uhh.” Shades craned his neck and pointed in the general direction to my left. “Yo, yo, aye, my man, Cairo, tell that nig Tremayne to get his ass over here.”

We waited, and fucking waited, and eventually the kid who I assumed was Tremayne, swaggered over in low-slung jeans, a black singlet, and skate shoes. Cornrows stretched his dark hair back from his face, and the large cross inked under the dark skin at the base of his throat resembled the one inked over my heart. In fact, everything about Tremayne reminded me of my younger self, and that scared me more than what I planned to do later.

“Tremayne, meet yo maker right here,” Shades announced, pointing at me.

The kid eyed me up and down, then lingered his attention over my shoulder; at my woman.

“Oi,” I said, with a shove to his chest. “Eyes off.”

“Wassup,” he said, with a chin-lift. “The great Rafael Ortiz, in the flesh. I look forward to racing against you tonight, man.”

I smirked. Again, his attitude hit way too close to home; confident yet backhandedly respectful.

We eyed off while I contemplated my next move. One that would get under his skin. Set his nerves off-tune and hopefully light a spark of something greater within him.

Squaring my shoulders, I couldn’t hide the sly smirk weaving across my mouth. “How about we raise the stakes a little, then? Make it worth both our time.”

Tremayne’s eyes narrowed. He had every right to be suspicious; I had ulterior motives.

“Like what?”

I tipped my head back and looked down my nose. “If you win, I’ll check out tonight. Officially retire from street racing as of the second this race finishes.”

“What!” both Shades and Greer exclaimed at the same time. I ignored them and watched Tremayne closely.

He kept his eyes trained on me. “And if you win?”

I stepped closer so the rest of our conversation was just between me and him.

“I’m a man of my word, Tremayne. Tell you what; see that mamacita behind me?” His eyes followed my description. “If I win, I’ll ask her to marry me.”

He snorted. “Bullshit.” It came out in true Compton style as bullsheeet—the same way Shades said it.

“No bullshit. And, to sweeten the deal, if you win, I’ll tell Colton Donavan I’ve got another prospect to go pro in the Indy circuit. You,” I added when he didn’t react.

Where Arlo would have made a song and dance about it, Tremayne nodded while he processed. I knew that closed expression; it was one where dreams dangled just beyond reach, and the suggestion that they would get a little closer was too good to be true.

“What’s it gonna be?” I taunted, with my arms thrown wide.

He met my eyes and thrust his hand between us. “They say that Supra’s fast. Gotta see it for myself, man.”