by Candi Heart
“Yes!” he said under his breath. I looked up at him under the flashing lights illuminating the small track, amused at his reaction.
He looked down at me and smiled, and then kissed me on forehead, then on the nose.
Swoon.
“BUT... I DON'T HAVE anything to wear,” I said, feeling slightly panicky.
“We’ll go shopping in the morning,” he replied with a reassuring smile.
I blinked at him, incredulous. “You want me to take off with you... in this dress?”
Tyler grinned, his stare lazily drifting up and down my body, taking me in with unconcealed admiration. “Yes.”
He was direct like that and somewhat demanding, and I would have to get used to it. The man had asked me to attend the Vegas NASCAR race with him, just like that—barely knowing me. And he wanted to leave right away. Like now.
I’d be a fool to pass up something like this, but my heart registered a warning I was having a difficult time ignoring. If he moved this fast with me in the beginning, how quickly would our fire burn out? It couldn’t actually last at this pace, could it? Should I just chalk this one up to being young and living my life?
I could, of course, but I liked to choose my course a little more wisely. Tyler seemed to convey my pause, and making his way over to me, he pulled me close to him, his eyes consuming me with a raw desire.
I’d known alphas before, had even dated a few, but Tyler was something else entirely. He had the power and the means to indulge in any whim that crossed his mind, and his sights were very clearly set on me now. It made me more than a little dizzy. Especially because I could see how real it was, no matter how short- or long-lived it might go on to be.
Even Colton had been a little uneasy when I’d given him the green light to go home. It wasn’t typically my way to run off with a guy I’d just met, no matter how high-profile he might be. I’d assured my best friend that I’d be all right, and in the sense of safety, I would be. I wasn’t sure how my heart would fare when this wild ride came to an end, but at least we knew Tyler wasn’t an actual stranger, some serial killer.
But this man... this force, might be quite a bit more than I could handle. I chewed my lip and stared at the smoldering hot man standing in front of me.
He cocked his head with a charming half-grin. “You’re not sure.”
He said it with a confidence I was beginning to consider his default setting. Leaning me up against the wall, he lowered his lips to brush my neck, nipping and licking a soft bite of skin.
“It’s not that, I—”
A moan escaped me before I could finish my sentence. I felt my hips respond to him as he pressed every inch of hard manhood against me. Already my body was making up my mind about what it wanted. The effect Tyler had on me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
“What? What is it? I know it’s something,” he whispered into my ear before moving his lips back to my neck.
His words were breathy and insistent, and already I felt myself folding in to him; giving in. How did he expect us to communicate when we were pressed this close, our bodies fevering with hunger for something more?
“It’s not important,” I groaned back.
He licked a stripe along my neck, and I shivered. “Are you sure?”
Giving him the meekest of nods, I answered him, quick and hurried, ready to move past the talk and get to the touching part. I wanted to feel him pressed against me, taking me, staking his claim like a beast overtaking his prey. The things this man made me want to do...
“I want you to be sure.”
His words almost came out in a growl, and I mewled when I felt him lift the hem of my dress, his fingers drawing soft lines up the insides of my thighs, his touch like velvet. It was the softest, most maddening thing I’d ever had to endure.
“I’m... sure.”
A soft half-laugh escaped him. “You don’t sound sure.”
“I am.”
“One more question,” he said between kisses.
“Yeah?” I breathed.
“That guy you were talking to. He your boyfriend?” he asked, peppering kisses along my neck and collarbone.
I laughed. “No, not even close.”
Nodding, he pressed a kiss to the fevering flesh of my neck, and then another before lifting his mouth to kiss my cheek. Eyes fluttering open, I searched the sea-blue depths of his gaze and saw the drive behind his possession. A drive that told me he’d stop at nothing to make me his. That he would dominate me completely, body and soul. Because he had to own me somehow. He barely knew me, but he was the sort of man who didn’t have trouble knowing exactly what he wanted.
Something inside of me felt a burst of relief realizing that.
Most of the men I’d known were struck dumb figuring out what they wanted to wear each day. But this one knew the cut, and brand, and color of the suits he wanted in his closet. He knew the accessories that should accompany them. He knew the cologne that would permeate from the slightest spritz against the collar.
Tyler Dalton wasn’t a man who charged ahead full-force for something he considered trivial. He only moved on those things he considered essential. Like a hungry lion. He decided what should be his and made it so. And right now, his sights were trained on me. I couldn’t have denied him if I wanted to.
“Tell me you’ll come.”
“I’ll come.”
A SMALL SMILE FOUND my lips as I eased myself into the seat of the Bugatti. We were taking it to the big race in Vegas, and I had to adjust myself slightly to angle my body so the feel of him throbbing between my thighs eased off a bit.
I shot off a quick text to my dad: I’m not gonna be able to make it in tomorrow. I’ll see you on... I paused and looked at Tyler. “When will we be back?”
He grinned and lifted a shoulder, then let it fall. “Whenever we feel like it.”
I scoffed. “No seriously, when? I have to let my dad know.”
“Well, I guess you do have responsibilities.” He gave me a cheeky grin, then said, “Tuesday night. That okay?”
I nodded and said, “Yep.” I continued typing: Wednesday.
I had told Dad I’d come in tomorrow to help him get a particularly difficult repair we’d had come in get finished, but that wasn’t going to happen. Hopefully, he wasn’t too upset. I never flaked out on him like this, so I would hope he’d forgive me.
He replied: Everything all right?
Me: Yep, just taking an impromptu trip to Vegas.
Dad: Wow. With who?
Me: A new “friend.” ;)
Dad: That’s fine, enjoy your long weekend but be safe, you hear me?
Me: Of course. Love you, Dad.
Dad: Love you too, princess.
I glanced at the dashboard clock inside this breathtakingly beautiful car we were in, and it read 2:16 a.m.
After the whirlwind of an evening, I had no idea how Tyler planned to drive and keep focused. But this was Tyler Dalton we were talking about. I felt safe in his hands. If he didn’t think he could handle the drive with the aid of a few choice energy drinks, I believed him.
A thrill shooting through me at the rev of the engine, I sipped the soy latte Tyler grabbed for me in the Starbucks at the edge of town. He’d got himself a six-pack of some sort of java-infused energy drink, and had already drunk two.
“You ever been to a NASCAR race?” he asked in the dark silence of the car.
“A few times. Mostly as a child. Dad gets a lot of business now. We try to get away, but something always comes up.”
“It’s never-ending in this business.”
I nodded. “That it is.”
Stopping to look at me before pulling out of the lot, his gaze swept through me. “I’m glad you decided to come.”
It was my turn to grin. “You didn’t make it easy to say no.”
He winked. “Why should I make it easy for you?”
He left the question to hang in the air and then pulled off, no doubt feeling my eye
s searching him before I realized I’d been staring. I returned my attention to my coffee cup. It was weirdly easy sitting next to him now. I couldn’t have felt more comfortable if I were luxuriating in a Jacuzzi built into the back of the sleek machine he was whipping us around in.
I had long ago developed a habit of over-analyzing things, but I’d gotten a handle on it years ago. However, I’d felt the stirrings of it rise back up to plume my thoughts when we first left the Dalton Mansion. What we were doing was wild and crazy, and it made me breathless. He made me breathless.
Reaching to flick on the radio, Tyler found a talk radio station, and we listened to world politics and the opposing views of several talk show hosts before he finally tired of it and clicked it off.
“How long have you been working on cars?” he asked me after we’d been on the road for a couple hours.
It was an icebreaker sort of question, one meant to pierce my outer shell and get to know me a little better. After all, we didn’t know the first thing about each other, outside of my knowledge of Tyler’s racing stats and highly publicized inheritance, and his knowledge of the fact that I worked on cars and my dad owned Owen and Sons.
“For as long as I can remember, actually. I started hanging out at my father’s garage when I was about five.”
“I bet you were a bright and precocious child.”
“Curious, more than anything.” I smiled.
He let the time stretch a minute before responding. “I was the opposite.”
This intrigued and surprised me. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. I’d have been a total fuck-up if it wasn’t for the old man,” he said, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.
I moved my gaze from his hands to his face. “I somehow doubt that.”
“Believe me. I was a hothead. Had no sense of focus. Dad put a stop to all of that early on, and taught me how to focus my will; to actually accomplish things.”
I put my hand on his arm and smiled. “Well, it’s certainly paid off.”
He nodded and exhaled as if the conversation had been upsetting him, but he was now calm. “It has. I owe everything to him. The money is obvious, but what I really treasure are the things he gave me money could never buy.”
“Your father’s story is an impressive one. I read about him.” I laughed softly. “I even did a report on him in the sixth grade.”
With wide eyes, he glanced at me, taking his eyes off the road momentarily. “Get out.”
I laughed at the reaction I expected he’d have. “Really. I got an A on it. My father helped me fill in the details his memoirs didn’t have.”
Tyler fell quiet hearing that last bit about the memoirs, and something about his reaction made me worry I’d broached a topic I probably shouldn’t have. His father’s death had to be still so fresh in his mind, and he wouldn’t want to be reminded of that, especially not on a recreational trip.
Nice going, Charlyse.
Lifting my fast cooling latte, I took a quieting sip and turned my attention to the scenery passing us by, not that I could see much. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, and a semi-darkness still covered the long stretches of farmland I was sure held herds of prized cows and gorgeous horses.
The click of the radio confirmed my conversational misstep, but I went with it. No point in freaking out about that. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again, and we had plenty of time to get it right.
Chapter 10
Tyler
I HAD GOTTEN LOST IN myself for a minute there, but I’d pushed my way past it. Charlyse was my guest, and the last thing I wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. Death wasn’t an easy subject, and my father’s passing was still a little too fresh for me. Sometimes, I could talk about my father like I’d finally gotten past the worst of it, but then the wrong memory or turn of phrase would confirm how very wrong I was about that, and I’d retreat into myself.
I could tell myself I’d let my father go, but the truth was, I probably never would. My dad had probably been the only person who’d really ever understood me. I’d never been so easy to get close to. Even my mother had walked on eggshells around me my entire life. My obstinate nature had given her pause early on, and she’d resorted to handling me with kid gloves, keeping a healthy distance from me. She just went through the parental motions, mainly for the benefit of her friends and the public in general. The perfect, doting mom.
As a result, I hadn’t had the easiest time connecting with people. When your mother mistook a spirited nature for a psychological condition and ran you around to psychiatrists every chance she got, your social issues only tended to get worse. It was my father who’d reached me in the end, and had clung to me and everything I stood for with a sense of allegiance nobody had ever been able to match.
My father had given me purpose, focus, and a path. The old man was as closely tied to my identity as anyone. Nobody could let go of connections with that level of depth. My father hadn’t been just a parent; he was a mentor, a hero, and a guiding force who made me feel like I was worth something. Like I was different only because I was special. And it was that very realization that gave me a sense of destiny.
I looked over to see Charlyse’s eyes closed. Her body was balled up with her legs curled up on the seat, and she seemed to be peacefully sleeping. I smiled at how cute she was.
A few more hours passed, and because of the energy drinks and some good talk radio discussion, I somehow managed to stay awake. When the sun began to brighten the horizon, I yawned and stretched, glancing over at her as she did the same.
“Good morning,” I said, smiling.
I saw her glance at the car’s clock, then back to me. “Good morning. Damn, I fell asleep. I’m so sorry.”
I watched the road and but still grinned. “What are you sorry for?”
“I should have been keeping you company.”
Waving a dismissive hand, I said, “Nah, you’re good. You were tired.”
“I need coffee.”
Chuckling, I said, “You got it.”
After a half hour or so, I spotted an exit that had a Starbucks, and I used the drive-thru to get us both some caffeine-infused nectar to get us through the next couple hours.
SMALL TALK WAS MADE for the next couple hours. I was tired, but the coffee was keeping me conscious. Charlyse’s conversation and beautiful laugh helped, too. I put my eyes on the road and brightened when I caught sight of a colorfully painted Highland Fair sign. I stole a glance at the beauty sitting to my right. What better way to bring the mood back than a county fair? Shit, I hadn’t been to one in a long time. The timing couldn’t possibly be more perfect. I pointed to the sign and smiled.
“Oh, Highlands Fair. I love county fairs,” she replied wistfully.
“Want to make a pit-stop?” I asked with a devilish grin.
Glancing down at her dress, Charlyse’s fiery brows rose. “I’m, ah, not exactly dressed for the occasion.”
“I’ve got a shirt you can wear in the trunk.”
She’d look sexy as hell in a T-shirt and high heels. With a body like that, Charlyse could fill anything out. Weighing the suggestion for a lingering moment, her beautiful face broke out into a brilliant smile.
“Ah, what the hell. Why not?”
A brighter smile stretched across my face. I liked this girl. Really liked her. She was beautiful, a friggin’ mechanic, and spontaneous. And, as I’d find out twenty minutes into our stop at the fair, she was talented, too. Seemed Charlyse was full of surprises.
After parking in the dirt lot, I grabbed her hand and led her to the back of the car. Pulling out a Dalton Racing tee, I stretched the hole and put it over her head. It was huge on her and covered the bottom of her fitted, green dress. I then reached up and tied the shirt into a knot at her left side, right at the curve in her waist.
“Classy,” she said, laughing.
“Hot,” I whispered into her mouth as I kissed her quickly, and then slammed the trunk to the car closed. Hand-in-hand
, we walked to the ticket booth, where I bought us admission tickets.
We presented the tickets and went through the fair’s turnstile. It was hot, but bearable, and already very busy. It smelled of popcorn, cotton candy, and cows, and made nostalgia from my childhood blanket my memory.
“Ooh, cups!” Charlyse said, pointing to a booth not far inside. I laughed and followed her in. Admittedly, we stood out like a couple of sore thumbs in the middle of this small town’s fair, dressed in a tie-less tuxedo, and her in a cocktail dress, T-shirt covering it, and her heels. I wondered how she walked around on the uneven dirt and pavement in those things.
She smiled at the kid behind the booth, and I gazed in awe as Charlyse won game and after game of cups.
Smart and cute, I thought with a smile, watching her charm the young man into letting her play “just one more round.”
When she was done, she giggled as she counted a stack of wrinkled tens, tucking them into my pants pocket for safekeeping. When we left the booth sixty dollars richer, she confided in me her knack for counting cups.
I grinned. “You could take your little gig to the casino.”
“And spend the rest of my days behind bars? I watch movies. I know it’s illegal,” she replied, softly punching me in the arm.
“You’d make stripes look good,” I said, looking her up and down.
She shook her head. “No stripes. Orange is the new black, remember?” she quipped.
“You’d make that look good, too.”
“Nah, not with this hair color. It would clash for sure.” She pointed to her head.
Unable to resist her cuteness any longer, I leaned down and kissed her, and then pulled back at the sound of giggling children. Charlyse flushed as my fingers slipped through hers, and I pulled her along the dirt road past the pie tables. I had fond memories of the fairs I’d been taken to as a kid. My father had a thing for them himself, and always found the time to bring me along to ride the giant old Ferris wheel at Austin’s yearly fair. We’d consume heaping bags of cotton candy, and I’d bet my allowance on the pie-eating contests.
