The race goes by in a flash.

The smell of burnt rubber lingers in the air.

The crowd is excited and going wild.

Braden speeds by, followed by the other drivers, including my own man. At every pass, Braden's sure to make eye contact with me. The idea of him getting off on the race and on seeing me is enough to make me cum in my panties. Seriously. You have no idea just how hot this all is...just how hot Braden is.

Girls are screaming his name from the side-lines, and it reaffirms the fact that Braden was once a player. Well really, for all, I know he may still be.

Those many lonely nights I spent dreaming of him flit quickly through my mind, and I almost have to pinch myself to realize that this―everything that’s happening now―is my reality.

Braden and I may not be an official item, but we're close enough.

I'm happy about this, but seeing scores of women vying for his attention from the side-lines makes me naturally insecure, especially when we've never gone public with our love.

He sees me and smiles in that confident way only he can back up. He’s a stud, what can I say? And he definitely has the boldness to back it up.

The race is close between Braden and another driver, but I know who's really gonna win...

Braden.

He's got the Midas touch. Everything he does allows him to come in first. But I know that his secret technology is what's gonna win this race for him.

Despite myself, and despite the fact that he's my competition, I feel proud of him. I'm cheering him on and I hope he does win this time.

Our own car is in third place. I know we can overtake the second car, but we'll never be able to beat Braden. His afterburner technology is just too good.

Even though I'm excited for him, there are anxious knots forming in my stomach once again as I think about the FBI issue. I feel uncomfortable every moment that passes, as if they're watching us.

I try to push those thoughts from my mind as Braden zooms across the finish line.

Everyone's going crazy with excitement. There's lots of commotion and it's really fun. This kind of atmosphere is what has me addicted to racing.

I watch as he gets out of his car. Instead of shaking hands with all the fans and socialites, he makes his way directly over to me.

"Did you see my win, baby?" he asks.

"You did so well. I'm proud of you," I say to him with a huge smile that I just can’t fight.

And then, right in front of everyone, he pulls me in for a deep and passionate kiss. There's a collective gasp from the audience. Braden's never been one to make his affections known, not like this, and yet here he is, singling me out.

I feel joy and excitement reverberating throughout my body. I feel proud that I’m chosen by Braden. I wish, like I have so many times before, that this could become something real.

The feel of his hands around my body makes me quiver with lust. And that ever-present ache in the pit of my belly is there, telling me I have strong feelings for this man.

I know I'm falling for him, even though I'm conflicted about the blackmail. I desperately want a happy ending, but a part of me is so worried as to how this will shake out. What if Braden finds out I even talked to the FBI?

He takes me by the hand and leads me away from the crowd. They’re likely all going to attend the gala. He and I sneak off, however, to a random, casual little diner.

It's quintessential NYC and the perfect spot for us. I don't feel like being anywhere fancy or anywhere that would have me focus on anything other than Braden.

We order coffee and begin to just talk. I’ve figured that when you can talk to a man about anything, that's a good sign. It confirms the fact that things between you are more than just surface-level attraction.

"Don't you want to eat something, Braden? After that kind of a race, I would think your body needs fuel," I say to him.

"She's right," he says to the waitress. "I better order an omelette and a side of bacon. Anything for you, Jenna?"

I shake my head. "I'm good with coffee, thanks." Then I turn towards Braden and say, "I didn't just finish a legendary race like you."

The smile on his face tells me everything I need to know. He's still amped up on the adrenaline of having mastered such a car at such high speeds.

"Yes, that win was epic. I wish you could've been in there with me. You would've loved the pace. I was flying, Jenna, just fucking flying."

He's smiling, and his enthusiasm is infectious.

"I wish I could've been in there with you, too. Maybe we can take the car out sometime?"

He must know I'm dying to get into his car. I want to see all the technology and mechanics within. It's his secret place, a well-guarded secret that he and his team have held close for ages.

And honestly, the biggest part of me wants to crack that code just for my own knowledge. I want to see how he's done it. Never mind the FBI.

He looks at me like he's excited, but also like he’s waiting for something, like he wants me to tell him something, like he's expecting more. What it is, I don't know.

"Your engine did okay though, Jenna, you should be proud," he says.

Internally, I'm thinking that I know I should be proud I didn't use jet engine technology to win the race. But of course, I don't say this to him.

In fact, he's the one to bring it up. "You know, there's another technology you can use in your engine, like jet engines and afterburner mechanics."

I'm surprised and stunned that he's saying these words. He just placed his secret on the table. Of course, he's not admitting he uses it, but the idea is there.

I remark, "Yes, Braden, but that would never work in a car."

I’m only saying the obvious. I don't know how he got the technology to work for him, but I'm longing to talk about it and have no intention of wavering from the subject.

He's gazing at me with dark eyes, his stare penetrating as if he’s trying to see into my soul, and I wonder what's on his mind.

He says, "Yes, it'd definitely be hard to work out. You'd have to get the perfect angle to really get it going. Kind of like other things that require the perfect angle."

I know he's talking about me now and how he’d like to ravage my body right here and now. Everything with Braden is laced with the sexual innuendos. I find this talk seductive, and I'm getting wet despite trying not to.

He continues, with his eyes set on me the entire time, "Those afterburner mechanisms, the way they spew out, really puts the regular pressure that's needed for combustion, but if you wanted it in a car, you’d have to angle it, right?"

I stick to the subject at hand, though, and say, "How could you ever have an afterburner like that in a car? That wouldn't make sense."

He says in a flirtatious tone, "It would only work because it would have to shoot out the sides to create an even-pressured thrust, hitting just the right spots. Kind of like how you have certain spots that need to be hit, in order for you to...combust."

My body becomes heated by his words as I imagine him pressing all my right buttons. At this point, he knows my body like a map, even better than he knows every turn on the race track.

Both our minds are on the same thing. We want to fuck so badly, and yet we're out in public. A conundrum.

"Just the right spot, you say? That sounds like you might be on to something there, Braden. Maybe you should implement that technology."

He smiles in a mischievous way and says, "I can figure it out. I know how to find just the right spots and hit them hard until they explode."

Our verbal foreplay is turning me on so damn much.

Everything with the FBI flies out the window, and all I can focus on is the thought of Braden's big, thick cock entering me.

My thoughts have turned away from technology, away from cars―and purely towards the adrenaline of being with him.

He’s like a drug. And like everything else, I like it hard and fast.