Braden
I hold her hand a second too long because she's taken my fucking breath away.
This ravishing woman is the only person in the racing league that I've ever felt slightly overwhelmed by.
And looking now into her deep green eyes, I find that I am, for once, speechless.
Jenna introduces herself to me like she thinks I've never fucking seen her before, or that I don't know who she is. Of course, I do.
She's the most stunning woman on the racing scene. Everybody knows who she is. But she has my attention right now because she's not just some girl who’s just willing to be an accessory on the arm of a billionaire.
No, this girl's got brains. And she's actually got some brawn. She knows how to work on cars and she knows how to make them go faster.
She actually works for one of my competitors and that makes me really fucking irritated. I'd do anything to have her come over to my side, but I know she has this thing about being professional.
Her reputation precedes her. She doesn't date racers—or anybody in the business. She likes to keep that boundary strong between work and personal life.
My cock twitches as I think of her having a personal life that doesn’t include me. She's the only woman I've ever met that I can't stop thinking about.
Maybe it's because I have to hunt for her, work for it; she’s not one to easily give it up. Or maybe there's something more there. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
These are questions I plan on getting to the bottom of. I'm sick of watching Jenna from a distance. I want to get to know her up close and personal. And if I choose her, she'll be in for one hot ride.
"Jenna, do you really think a single person in this building doesn't know who you are?"
My question makes her blush. I almost don’t think she understand the scope of her work and the imprint she has on people.
"Not only are you gorgeous, but I know you work for my competitor and that you know how to make those cars go fast."
She looks at me like I just extended a challenge. Talking about my competitor, her boss, probably ignites a sense of loyalty or something in her.
"Well, Braden, I have to say that I know who you are too. You're one of the best in the business and our little underground club. I really admire your racing style and I know that you have a lot of new technology within your company that I haven't even heard of. That intrigues me."
Fuck, this woman has the smarts enough to talk to me about racing. Suddenly, the conversation’s not so blasé. She actually has an opinion about things and that turns me on even more.
I want to be the one to make her give in, though. I want to be the one to help her break the pact she's apparently made to herself to keep things professional.
"Would you like to dance?" I ask her.
It's a fancy affair. This is obviously the work of an expensive party committee. It comes with the territory of being in The Billionaires Club. Anything less won’t do.
We know how to race, and we know how to party, but most of all, we know how to make money. That's the main drive behind everything. And we may play fucking hard, but we work just as hard, too.
Normally, these parties are events where I can find my latest conquest for the evening. I pick up a lot of women here and bring them back to my place—my penthouse. But they're out as fast as they come in. No one gets to stay the night. That's just how it is.
Jenna probably senses this about me. She's not just any woman. I don't think anything gets past her, and I don't think she'd be too keen on being a one-night stand for me.
This girl's got borders and she's got boundaries that I'm gonna have to work on taking down. Suddenly, Jenna’s the only thing on my mind...because she's so fucking unattainable.
I take her out to the dance floor and hold her slender body close. It’s crazy because there's this undeniable spark between us. I consider the thought that maybe she's what's been missing from my arms all along. But I don’t linger on that too long.
"So, do you have a boyfriend?" I ask, even if I can probably guess the answer.
"As a matter of fact, I don't. I was dating this guy, not in the racing field,” she adds pointedly, “for about two years but we broke up six months ago."
Good. That's fucking good to hear—for me. The thought of her with another man, especially in a long-term relationship, makes me feel strangely envious. I feel like I should've been that man. Jenna excites me and somehow lights up unfamiliar feelings in me.
"Oh, that's too bad," I say with a tone of obvious insincerity.
"Is it though? Is it too bad, Braden?" She seems to sense my sarcasm.
"No." I laugh, giving her my infamous cocky grin. "The fact that you're single is like music to my ears."
I hold her closer than is strictly necessary, and we dance for a couple songs. Some insane kind of sexual chemistry is brewing between us, reaching a boiling point.
My cock is nice and hard under my pants, and I know she can feel it because I really am holding her that tight. She senses my arousal and I sense hers.
Her face is blushing a lovely shade of crimson and she can hardly meet my eyes.
I hope we can take this thing home tonight, or at least a step further.
I lead her off the dance floor and ask her if she'd like another drink. At this point, I can tell that she's feeling a little lightheaded from all the champagne, but she's not drunk.
"Yes, I would love another drink, thank you."
Jenna's got so much fucking civility and class. It's like a whole other level. For some reason, I want to impress her. Normally, I don't care about what women think of me, but Jenna's different. I can already see that.
I take her hand and notice everyone is watching us. I don't know why we're the center of attention in this room full of high-rolling people, but whatever. I’m going with it.
Maybe it's because Jenna is never seen with a man. Maybe it’s because it's me she’s with, and all eyes are usually on me. Whatever the cause of their reactions, I feel like a celebrity now that I'm with Jenna. I think they're drinking in her beauty just as much as I am.
We go to the bar and I order whatever she wants.
"I'll have a martini, dry, no olives."
"Make it two," I say.
Our martinis arrive, and we sit at the bar and laugh together over silly things. It's like we already share a collection of inside jokes. She knows what it's like to be on the inside of the industry, and therefore I can really open up and talk to her. It’s not the typical bullshit I’m used to spouting to a woman.
She knows everything about cars and she knows everything about technology. There's a lot to get to know about this woman.
She gives me a little shit about being her competitor. But I take everything she throws out and send it right back at her.
"It's too bad your cars aren't quite as fast as ours," she's saying. "You know, if you had the technology I'm working on, you'd be the king of the race for sure."
"Is that so?” I smirk. “Well, I think I'm working on some things that would surprise even you. But I'm gonna keep those cards close for now."
She laughs.
"Okay, that's fine. But we'll see you on the streets. Only then can you see what my cars can do."
She and I are having so much fun, but the alcohol’s going to my head. We're on our second martini now, and I think it's time to take things up a notch.
"Come with me," I say as I take her hand and lead her away from the crowd of people.
We duck into a dark corner of the ballroom and I press her against the wall. I can’t wait another second to taste this woman.
I brace my hands on either side of the wall beside her, pinning her in, and slowly lower my head, teasing, testing.
She doesn’t move.
I smile. She wants this as much as I do.
So I give it to her. I lean in and brush my lips against hers, softly, slowly.
A small gasp escapes her lips and I feel it go straight to my cock. I need more of her.
Suddenly, I can’t hold back. I kiss her with all the restrained passion that I’ve been keeping in check all night. It’s hot and hard, and I’m desperate for more.
It takes her breath away and she kisses me back. Sparks are flying, the likes of which I never knew existed. Is it because this is all still new? Or is it because something about Jenna is just really that damn special?
Whatever it is, I give in. I fucking give in. I give into her a thousand percent. As long as this woman is in my arms, pliant and willing, I don’t care about another fucking thing. Just making her mine.