by Vivien Vale
“I’m under surveillance?” I say to the man.
“Of course, Jenna. You’re gonna help us, and we need to know what you’re up to at every moment. It’s obvious from those photos that you have the information we need. Now it’s time to offer it up.”
I’m pissed now. They don’t have anything on me. This whole situation has been ruining my life, and I’m about sick of it.
What would feel most right is to just tell Braden all of this. But who knows, maybe they have his apartment bugged? Maybe they’re following him as much as they are me. Maybe the whole club’s being watched.
“It doesn’t sit well with me that I’m being followed when you have no actual evidence against me,” I say to this Mr. Harrison if that is, in fact, his real name.
“You better be careful, sweetie, because you’re skating on thin ice, and you’re about to go down hard with the rest of them.”
Hmm. I’m offended. It’s a classic intimidation technique.
These dirty cops have nothing on me and probably nothing on The Billionaires Club. I’m sick of being put in the middle of this and of dealing with them.
“Excuse me, is that a threat?”
“It may be. You’d do well to abide by it.”
His tone is frightening. This is the FBI, not your average NYC policeman. I feel like I’m playing with fire, and I might get burned.
“If you don’t give us what you want, you will pay.”
I summon my courage to say, “This is coercion, and I don’t think that’s very legal, Mr. Harrison.”
“Don’t mess with us, Jenna. You have the option of immunity now, but I can take that away at any moment.”
The reality of the situation is starting to scare me, and I truly don’t see a way out. What are my choices? I’m racking my brain, trying to stall and to come up with a plan.
“Well, I need more time. I have the plans, but I need to go over them myself first. You can at least give me that.”
“I’ll give you that,” he says. “But this is your last chance and warning.”
Finally, I think of an idea. This may save the situation if I can just figure it out.
For now, I tell him, “Okay, fine, Mr. Harrison. I’ll give what you want. I’ll work for you. But first, I think you should give me some time to try to get more out of Braden. I know he’s harboring another secret. And with just a little more influence, I can get it out of him. Please, just let me finish this.”
There’s a pause as he considers my position.
“Okay, Jenna. I can give you that. Try to squeeze Braden for all he’s got. But then we want everything. If I give you this time, I’m going to expect huge gains, got me?”
“Yes, Mr. Harrison. That’s fine. Goodbye.”
I hang up on him and think that at least I’ve bought myself some more time. I’ve got the FBI breathing down my neck, but with this new leverage I’ve bought, I know what to do.
That’s all I need. A little more time.
Braden
The smell of the racetrack turns me on.
The fast cars driving by cause excitement to stir in the air.
Maybe I shouldn’t be out here because the Feds are on to me, but I can’t stay away.
Besides, what am I going to do? Burrow away in a hole somewhere and hide? That’s just not my style, I’m afraid.
My car is ready, equipped with all the new technology. I’m going to win as usual. Only this time, Jenna knows my plans. Doubtless, she was impressed by the plans.
She’s as into this stuff as I am, and I know when I planted those blueprints for her to find that ultimately she would come to see my genius.
Why do I care to impress Jenna when she has obviously turned her back on me and on what could’ve been a great relationship?
I’m in the car checking all the gears. Everything has to go great because I’ll be moving at supersonic speed.
There’s always a risk in racing that something could go wrong, and that adds to the excitement. My technology especially brings things up to a new level, so I have to make sure everything’s in order or the crash could be ugly.
That’s why the Feds are onto us, I guess. Not only do they want the technology but it’s also fucking dangerous out here.
I look up, and that’s when I see her coming down the street with her crew. She’s wearing all leather, and her body looks tight. Her long hair is flowing, untamed as usual.
Damn, I long for her feisty spirit and for this to have worked out a shade differently. But as it is, I’ll work with what I have.
She sees me and flashes me that million-dollar grin.
I want her so bad. I want to take her right here over the hood of my car. I want to drag her into an alley and fuck her brains out and punish her for even thinking of turning to the Feds instead of to me.
I grit my teeth and try to control the burning desire to have her.
As much as I hate to do it, I know I can’t trust her, and I have to control myself around her. I have to be careful and to not let my heart get involved.
One thing I do know about Jenna is that I need to figure out her game plan. I need to be sure of everything she’s up to, only then can I gain the upper hand.
So for now, I’ll play nice.
She walks up to me and my crew disperses. She looks so hot in that skin-tight outfit. She’s always been the hottest one at our races, and today’s no different.
“Hey, babe,” she says. “Nice ride.”
I get out of the car to greet her. I kiss her cheek.
“Thank you. You look gorgeous as ever.”
She does a little spin and says, “Do you like my all-black outfit?”
“Yes, it matches your hair. And your dark personality,” I say, probing her.
She can’t betray me like she did and not expect to receive some taunting. I will make her pay for this one way or another.
“Dark? What’s so dark about me?” she deflects.
I grab her by the waist and pull her close to me. Her body feels so right enveloped by my own. I want her badly.
I kiss her passionately. It’s like a Judas kiss, one laced with betrayal and ill intentions.
She doesn’t know that I’m on to her. Or does she?
“So how do you think you’re gonna do today?” I say into her hair that smells of coconut.
“Well, I’ve implemented some things. We just might win,” she says.
My heart sinks because I know she’s lying. How can she stand there, staring at me straight in the face, and just lie?
All my perceptions about Jenna were wrong. Here I thought she was this honest person. And now I feel disappointed and jaded by her almost.
I say almost because the sight of her always brings me home. She’s gorgeous and amazing, and I want to bed her all the time. I don’t care if it’s an alleyway or my own room—I want to strip Jenna down and make her apologize and make her beg for it.
It’s just the way I feel with her.
She’s looking over my car with renewed interest. Now that she knows what’s going on with me, now that’s she stolen my plans and ideas, she probably has some questions.
“What the acceleration on this now, Braden?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason. I just thought maybe it would be like last time.”
“Maybe it will.”
She circles my car, looking for all the new upgrades. My afterburner mechanism isn’t obvious, but to the trained eye like hers, she might be able to figure it out.
I let her look. She can look all she wants. I even show her the interior, and I see her eyeing my little button that gives me the propulsion to win.
It makes me think of her little button and how I’d like nothing more than to bend her over the seat of this car and to fuck her brains out, all while hearing her scream my name.
These thoughts will never go away. I stroke her ass as she’s bent over, looking inside.
“Braden! God, right in front of e
verybody?”
There are a few spectators here now. Only the most exclusive, the most invited members of the upper echelons of society are here.
Once again, the exclusivity gets me off. But for as underground as we run this operation to be, the Feds, the try cops are still on to us. I’ve been evading them for years, and now, thanks to Jenna, I may be out of luck.
I need to know what she’s doing with them, and I plan to find out.
“Well,” she says, “I better get back to my crew. I just wanted to say hi.”
Yeah, and see what I have going on over here. Sneaky little bitch. She doesn’t deserve me, and yet I so deserve at least one more taste of her.
“Come out with me tonight?” I ask.
“Only if you win,” she teases.
Her eyes narrow because she knows now that I will win. She knows all my secrets and how I stay ahead.
“I always win,” I say.
I’m so tempted to bring her to a quiet place, pull that leather off her body, and spank her for defying me.
Who does she think I am? Does she really think she can pull one over on me and that I’m not aware of every move she makes?
I won’t dishonor her by doing that now, but my cock twitches at the thought.
Besides, I have my own research to do on Jenna. I need to find out what she’s up to, and I need to know what she plans on bringing in to the authorities.
“I’ll see you later then,” she says.
The heat between us is still as on as ever. It’s as if none of this drama is going on. We’re still drawn to each other like moths to a flame.
I want her, and she wants me. There’s no way around it, and I doubt it will ever change.
If I can desire her through this—through the water of ultimate deception—then I can desire her through anything.
I watch her saunter off to her crew, who are watching us.
She does look good walking away.
I’m so torn to pieces by this woman. On the one hand, I want her so badly that I can hardly think of anything else. But on the other, I feel so mislead by her.
Is she faking the attraction? Is she really that good of a liar?
The thought misleading me gets me fired up to win. Two can play at Jenna’s game. But what she doesn’t know is that I’m always one step ahead of her.
One of my crew members approaches me. “Hey, Braden, what were you doing talking to Jenna? You should keep your distance, for real.”
I clench my jaw at the thought of what he’s said. I won’t have anybody telling me what to do. I’m sick of all this drama and intrigue.
I’m fucking pissed now, and I’m going to take it all out on the racetrack.
I get into the car without saying a word to the guy. I’m gonna win this race and watch all the haters as I cross the finish line first.
This league used to be based on certain principles which I feel are fast fading.
As I rev the engine though and get ready to begin, I know that what’s really eating away at me is knowing that I care for Jenna more than she cares for me. It’s not okay and not a position I’m used to being in.
I’ll show her. I’ll show them all that I come out on top no matter what.
Jenna
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 h
is 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."
