Danger (The Driven World)

I would never do that to her.

This is one fake engagement I am seeing through to the end. No women. As promised. Not that I’m some horndog that can’t turn away pussy. It’s always been there for me, ready for me to take it whenever I want it.

And honestly, the thought of hooking up with some random girl disgusts me in a way that it never has before.

And I know it has everything to do with a green-eyed beauty I can’t stop thinking about. I seriously can’t stop thinking about her.

That kiss.

Down on the track.

Fuck me.

I know my dick has never gotten hard just from a kiss before, but by fuck did it get hard when I pushed my tongue past her lips, having my hand full of her ass as her hot mouth breathed me in.

And while I’m on the subject, I’d never tasted a pussy so good. I wanted to really get between her legs, get my fill of her sweet scent.

I know she wants it, but something is holding her back. And I am desperate to find out what it is.

This meeting is daunting. After another hour of talking about my form and driving technique, we call it quits so we can get ready for the dinner tonight. When I make it back up to the room, Monterey isn’t there. I hop in the shower, washing in record time. Even though I’m running a bit behind, I take the time to slide on my suit, making sure each cufflink is properly secured. I fix my hair, and then I work on the Double-Windsor knot on my red power tie. I stare at myself in the mirror, making sure every little aspect of my look is one-hundred percent sex-in-a-suit. Because that’s what I’m going for.

When I enter the ballroom my eyes immediately land on Monterey from across the room. I swear she just keeps getting prettier and prettier the longer I’m around her.

I crack a smile as she greets me with a small little wave.

And then it almost feels like time stands still as I float across the room toward her. People try to get my attention. I feel a woman grab my hand as I pass by, but I don’t stop. My mind is set on Monterey and there’s nothing in this whole world that could keep me from crossing this ballroom and ending up right in front of her.

Next thing I know, I’m there. And I wrap an arm around her and tuck her into my side. “You’re gorgeous.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she says, kind of like she’s out of breath.

And maybe it’s because of the grip I have on her. Like I’m holding so tight that I fear she might be a dream. I loosen my arm, spinning her around to stand right in front of me. My eyes take in the sight of her. Long pink dress that swishes around her ankles. It shows off all her sexy curves and has a slit up the side that I would love to explore. “Love the dress,” I tell her, then smile. “I’d love to see you out of it, too.”

She swats at me with her clutch bag. “You’re impossible.”

I give her a toothy grin and she leads me to the table where we’re supposed to sit. The thing I’m finding I really enjoy about her is her quick way she calls me out on my bullshit. Most girls would swoon at my words about getting her out of her dress, but not Monterey, she’s too smart for that.

I pull out her chair, and push her in once she’s seated.

Then I take the chair right next to her. “I think my favorite color is pink.”

She faces me with a small smile. “Not many men would admit that.”

I take her hand in mine, bringing it down to rest in my lap. “What have I been telling you? I’m not most men.”

She breathes in deep. “I’ll say.”

I take my free hand, brushing back a soft strand of her hair that is dangerously close to her eyes. “Yeah definitely, pink it is.” I move her hand so she’s feeling the hardening length in my pants.

Her eyes widen, meeting mine. “Danger,” she whispers.

Have I ever mentioned I love when this girl says my name all breathy and shit? I fucking dig it. It makes my heart thump harder in my chest.

“This is how much I like the color pink.” I press her hand harder against the thick ridge of my cock.

“Danger,” she breathes out.

And I’m about ready to capture her lips with mine before we’re interrupted by the speaker welcoming everyone. It’s the president and CEO of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, and Monterey pulls away her hand as he speaks.

I sling an arm on the back of her chair, trying my best to pretend I’m paying attention to the man behind the microphone. Wanna know a secret? I’m not.