23 | pedal to the metal

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He starts walking toward me and I run toward him. The crowd parts for him and I jump into his arms, laughing as he spins me around. I'm aware of the stares on us but can't bring myself to care, focusing all my attention on Grayson's sweaty face.

I press my mouth on his, catching him by surprise. Even though I kissed him just before the race starts, it feels like I haven't felt his lips against mine in days. I feel drunk on happiness and keep my arms around his neck as he sets me down slowly. His hands stay on the small of by back, lower than I'm used to, but higher than I'd like them to be.

We break away, both breathing heavily. "So what did you say about winners?" he asks cockily.

I pretend to be confused. "I have absolutely not idea what you're talking about. Did you hit your head on the steering wheel?"

Grayson responds to my teasing by lifting me up again, higher this time. His hands go lower, clasping my ass, catching me even more off guard. I let out a surprised squeal, although I'm more thrilled than scared. "Grayson!"

He puts me down but keeps his hands where they were. I'm not complaining. "What? Just trying to jog your memory," he says innocently.

I glare at him jokingly and he kisses my nose. He looks devilishly handsome right now, his hair slightly damp but perfectly messy. There's a victorious gleam in his bright grey eyes, exciting me from the inside out.

"So you ready for our victory lap?" He asks.

If this were any other night with any other boy, I might've made the easy, safe decision and politely declined the offer to speed down a dirt road to my death. But I'm in Grayson's arms and his carefree face is staring down at me with a hopeful look that makes my heart flutter.

So I reply, "Only if I get to drive."

Grayson doesn't miss a beat, doesn't question whether or not I'm skilled enough to handle his winning car. "That's my girl."

Grayson removes his arms and grabs my hand, leading me toward the track. My boots crunch on the mix of gravel and clay, and I wonder what the hell I'm getting myself into. Everyone watching us seems to be thinking the same thing. Grayson holds the driver's side door open for me, watching me slide in and buckle up before he walks around and slides into the passenger seat.

I move the seat way forward, adjusting to my significantly shorter legs. I handle the rear-view and side mirrors quickly, suddenly very nervous about this. For a second, I forget how the hell to even drive. Grayson's hand finds the bare skin of my thigh and it does a bit to calm me down.

"Ready, babe?" Grayson asks. I can hear the confidence in his voice and feel better knowing at least one of us has faith in me. I look at him for a second, trying to believe the trusting look in his eyes.

I put the car in drive and press my foot lightly against the gas, already prompting the car to go faster than I'd anticipated. Slowly, I fumble with the wheel and turn the car around, aiming us toward the endless stretch of road.

"Nice and easy, Riv. You got this," Grayson says beside me. Nice and easy, got it. Grayson does this all the time; I got this.

I take a deep breath, trying to draw calmness from Grayson's presence beside me. I can do this. Grayson believes in me. Fuck, I believe in myself. We're not going to crash and die, I try to convince myself.

Without thinking anymore, I slam my foot against the pedal and jolt us forward. My head almost snaps backward from the acceleration and I'm convinced I'm going to kill us both. I'm driving faster than Grayson did when we were fleeing from the cops and it's the scariest fucking thing I've ever experienced.

But then the strangest thing begins to happen. It starts to feel like we're flying.

I hold my foot steady on the pedal and keep my hands firm on the wheel. But the rest of body feels free, floating above the track and moving against time itself. It's a rush, seeing the road come at me and knowing I'm controlling this. It's scary but it feels amazing.

"Just like that, Riv," Grayson says over the roar of the engine.

Time slows and it's just me, Grayson, and this fast fucking car.

I yell out in excitement, barely hearing myself over the engine beneath us. The car feels like an animal of its own, roaring under our feet and propelling us against all laws of physics. Grayson's hand is steady on my leg and another rush - maybe adrenaline or lust - shoots through me. My body is vibrating both from the car and the rush of feelings I'm experiencing all at once.

I stay strung between reality and my adrenaline high for what seems like an eternity, before Grayson says something about letting off the gas. So I do, feeling somewhat disappointed as I feel our speed slowly decrease.

I turn my brain off again, pressing the brake and yank the wheel to the side. The car whips sideways and skids loudly to a stop, sitting sideways in the middle of the track.  I look to Grayson.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" He asks, trying to hide the surprise in his deep voice. I smirk.

"It's not fun if I tell you all my secrets," I say mysteriously, leaning over the armrest. Grayson chuckles and leans over too, meeting my lips halfway. Despite the rush of what just happened, the kiss is soft. My heart, no longer beating out of my chest, melts at the tenderness.

"It was kind of hot seeing you lose control like that," Grayson says gruffly when we break away. "Who taught you to drive like that?"

"Just the six or seven other street racers I've dated in the past. No big deal." I whisper back.

"Well," Grayson says, moving his face closer to mine again. "Guess I have six or seven guys to deal with."

"I guess you do," I say softly, my face inches from his. He smiles softly, then captures my mouth in another kiss. My eyes fall closed and I lose control again, getting lost in the feeling of him against me.

I'm practically laying across the armrest at this point, my body yearning to be closer to his. I'm about to fumble my way across the armrest when Grayson's hands clasp my waist and pull me over smoothly. He sets me down on his lap with both my legs on one side of him.

When his hands grasp my hips, I instinctively flinch slightly. Grayson immediately pulls away, giving me a concerned look. I push through the thoughts of my past and press my lips back against his, convincing him to lose himself again.

I won't let my past affect this perfect moment. It doesn't define me.

I open my mouth slightly and welcome his deepening of the kiss. My tongue grazes his lip and he groans lightly, pulling me closer to his chest. This is the first kiss we've had like this and I can't imagine ever stopping. I don't even try to hide my pleasure and moan softly through our open mouths.

Our bodies are moving together, trying to get impossibly close. My hair drapes around our heads, creating a curtain between us and the world. I can't feel, taste, or hear anything besides him. The feeling and taste of him on my mouth is intoxicating and, from the low groans he releases, I can tell he feels the same about me.

His arms are wrapped around my waist and I feel his warm hands snake up my back, under my shirt. The roughness of his hands sends shivers up my skin and I move my body into his, relishing this feeling. My shirt moves up as his hands explore further up my back and I remember I'm not wearing a bra. But I really don't care.

I'm about to move my arms from his neck and raise them to allow him to pull my shirt off. But suddenly, Grayson pulls away, removing his hands from my back. I pull back hurt and confused, thinking he's closing himself off like he did at his penthouse.

"We-we can't do this right now," he says gruffly, barely controlling himself.

I lean back further, wishing we weren't in this cramped car. "What's wrong? Do you not want this?" I ask, trying to hide the hurt from my voice.

"No, god no, Riv," he says. "You have no fucking idea how much I want you right now. You're driving me crazy, baby."

I don't say anything, still confused.

"Just not here. You deserve more than this." He gestures around us, at the fact that we're pressed together in his sports car in the middle of nowhere.

I smile understandingly, touched by his concern for me. My heart softens. "I don't really care where are, Grayson. As long as it's just you and me. I just want to be with you," I assure him softly, resting my forehead against his.

He's silent, and I can tell he's thinking hard. He finally says, "I just don't want to fuck this up, Riv."

I look into his eyes and see him grappling against himself, against his feelings and past. My chest hurts for him and I wish I could ease his internal struggle. I place my hands gently on either side of his neck and hold his gaze tenderly. "You're not fucking anything up. I promise."

He stares up at me, not saying anything. His eyes stay on my face as if he's afraid I'll disappear at any second, and I suddenly realize that he's truly afraid of losing me.

"And nothing you could ever do would push me away," I whisper, answering a question he didn't ask. "I'm not going anywhere."

Grayson brings his finger to the bottom of my chin and kisses me softly, once again. I put as much emotion into the short kiss, as if using this kiss to solidify what I promised.

We sit silently for an unknown length of time, with our foreheads pressed together and our breaths falling in sync. The night seems to pass slowly around us, and the moon casts a heavenly glow into the car. Neither of us want to speak, fearful of ending this moment.

It's Grayson who breaks the silence. "Are you ready to head back?"

I smile lightly. "Only if it's back to the hotel." I pause, watching his expression darken.

I decide to push him a bit further. "Maybe then I'll show you how I treat winners."

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