Hell. It took serious effort to keep his focus on driving. He damn well might get them into an accident at this rate.
Will made the turn off the coast road onto Highway 92, which crossed over the mountains, back to the San Francisco Peninsula, then said, “How fast do you want to go tonight, Harper?” He wanted her—wanted her so badly that he needed to make absolutely sure he wasn’t the only one feeling this crazy. Or wanting this badly.
It was too dark to see the color of her skin clearly, but he could have sworn she blushed as she said, “Fast.” Her voice was husky and more than a little breathless as she put her hand over his on her knee and added, “I’m ready for you to go really fast. As fast as you’ve ever gone.”
He felt the hum of her words in his chest. Hell, he felt it everywhere. He could tell she wasn’t normally this bold with men, and he loved that she wanted to be bold with him. He was supposed to be the seducer, she the seduced. But she was reversing roles on him, and he liked it.
Liked it a hell of a lot.
He wanted his hands on her, his lips tasting hers. He wanted to feel her skin, hold her close, rub his body against hers. And fill her with everything he had.
But at the same time, he didn’t want tonight to be the beginning and end. Which meant he’d have to make it so good she couldn’t help but come back for more...
*
The speedometer climbed, and Harper held onto Will’s arm as they took the corners. It was late, the road empty as the headlights cut a path through the dark. It felt so sexy to be cocooned in the car with him, the wind whipping over the top of the convertible, leaving them virtually untouched.
She’d never been this bold before, had never asked for what she wanted from a man. But no man had ever made her feel this hungry, this greedy, this desperate before.
“Faster,” she whispered. All the times in her life she’d wished for speed, then forced herself to shove those wishes aside, felt like they were flying away on the wind.
His capable hands gripped the wheel, kept them true. But, oh, how she wanted his hands on her.
She was done waiting, not just for Will, but for this rush. The rush of speed and joy and pleasure.
She’d had just enough wine at dinner to give her courage. The new lingerie gave her the nerve. The speed did the rest.
She didn’t want him to slam on the brakes, didn’t want to be the one to slam on the brakes, either. She wanted both of them to drive each other fast and furious.
As fast and furious as they could go.
“Will,” she said. Just his name. It felt loud in the small cockpit of his sporty car.
They’d come off the other side of the mountain, and he downshifted to take the entrance ramp. When he was at freeway speed, she took his hand off the stick shift and put it on her knee, where the dress had pulled high enough to reveal a little bare flesh.
His hand slid beneath the dress, gliding halfway up her thigh. Then he trailed his fingers back down. Her pulse pounded in the wake of his touch.
She’d thought about having him all week. Longer than that—since the first time she’d set eyes on him, if she was being totally honest with herself. She wanted him. If there were consequences, she’d worry about those later. Not now. Not tonight, when she was so close to finally having what she wanted.
What she needed.
She’d always been a good girl, playing by the rules. Yes, she’d had sex, but she didn’t invite men into her bed when her brother was home, and she’d never before thought of buying lingerie to seduce a man.
But with Will, everything was different.
And now she wanted to be wild.
*
It was the longest drive of Will’s life, and it nearly killed him not to be able to give Harper his undivided attention. At long last, he saw the lights lining his driveway and the sports car purred up the hill. He pressed the garage opener under the dash, and they glided inside.
A second later, he had his seatbelt undone and he was already reaching for her when she grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to her mouth. The kiss was long and deep. He couldn’t get enough of her. The stick shift dug into his thigh, but he didn’t pull away. He let her take him, eat him up. She tasted sweet, like the raspberry tart she’d had for dessert, warm and sweet and rich. He slid his hands through her hair, pushing her back against the seat. Angling his head, he licked her lips, and she pulled him back for more, their mouths melding.
He could feel his heart hammering and the answering beat of hers against his chest. “I love the way you taste. And I want more. So much more, Harper. But not in a sports car.” He wanted to enjoy her, take his time discovering—and pleasuring—every inch of her body, which was why he hadn’t gone any further in the car during the drive home.