[**ON HIATUS**]
Noah Wood is a Mercedes driver. Scrappy, charming, and far too handsome, Noah is one of the best drivers on the grid. But a newcomer is threatening to steal his seat, and Noah must win this year's Grand Prix - or risk being booted ou...
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"What?" Amelia asked.
She was staring up at him, her green eyes the colour of fresh mint. The Alpine garage smelled of gasoline and leather, mixing with her cucumber body lotion. Noah's hand tightened on her hip. He was hyperaware of every breath that she took. Every tremble of her ribcage beneath his fingers.
"Ask me," he said.
Amelia looked away. "I don't want you to kiss me."
She was arching even as she spoke, half-rising on her toes to meet him. He wondered if she even noticed that she was doing it. Probably not, Noah decided; so much of their movements were reflexive. Foot, pedal; hands, wheel; Noah-and-Amelia, leaning forward. As a driver, you had to trust your body; the alternative was dying.
"I don't believe you." Noah ran a thumb over her jaw. "I'm not going to kiss you unless I hear you say the words."
She leaned into his palm. "This is insane."
"Ask me." His throat felt dry. "Tell me you want this."
Because fuck, he did. He wanted her so badly, Noah thought, that he might genuinely explode with the force of it. Every part of him ached to bend her over the car. To run his hands over her body. To make her beg him to keep going, to not stop no matter what.
Even that mental image...
He bit back a groan.
Noah flipped her around, skimming a hand over her hip. The curve of her waist. His hand closed over one breast, kneading lightly, and Amelia's head fell back.
"I... Noah."
Her gasp went straight to his core. Noah could feel her heart rocketing against his chest, slamming through them both, and he half-closed his eyes. This girl was going to kill him. He flicked her nipple — just lightly — and she made a whimpering sound.
"That's it, baby," Noah murmured. "Don't be scared."
Amelia's eyes narrowed. "Don't call me baby."
Ah — there she was.
Noah was about to make a joke, but then Amelia arched into him, and his breath came out in a hiss instead. Fuck. Judging from the smug look on her face, Noah thought darkly, she knew exactly what she was doing, too.
Sod it.
He'd call her baby if he wanted to. And by the end of the night, Noah thought grimly, Amelia Cartwell would be calling him whatever he damn well asked her to.
His mouth found her ear. "Ask me to kiss you."
Amelia shook her head.
Frustration surged through him. "Cartwell." He slipped a hand under her tank top, and Amelia shivered as he traced the line above her waistband. "Stop being so bloody stubborn and ask me."
