I thought I was going to explode just then. Each of my nerve endings had awakened with a burning, unsettling intensity. My anger grew as I walked over to my friends.
Why the hell had I kissed her? Why had I entered her game? Since when did I let a girl get me so hot without me taking the reins? The answer to all these questions had four letters: Noah.
Since I’d seen her tonight, I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head. I didn’t know if it was the attraction of the forbidden, since she was my stepsister, or if I needed somehow to feel I could control her, put out that fire that kept shooting out of her mouth and make her act like all the other women I’d known and managed to control.
But Noah was completely different from all of them. She didn’t throw herself at my feet, she didn’t get weak in the knees when she looked at me, she didn’t back down when I challenged her, no—she’d answer back, and her reactions were fiercer than mine. It was exasperating…and exciting at the same time. Mentally, I couldn’t stop telling myself that she was an unbearable, whiny little bitch, that I should ignore her, but my body was betraying me, and I didn’t know what the hell to do. I’d kissed her. I’d offered to do it not because I gave a damn about her getting revenge on her
ex-boyfriend or wanted her out of the party; it was just pure desire. I wanted to taste her, to feel her. As soon as I saw her that night, I wanted to get between her legs and make her mine. It was uncomfortable, hellishly uncomfortable, and frustrating, especially since I couldn’t stand her. Why did she have to be so goddamn attractive?
Her shorts left most of her long legs free to excite me. She was daring any man to reach out and touch them, to kiss her. Her hair drove me wild, especially when she let it down to frame her face, which was flushed from the alcohol. But more exciting still were her lips: soft as velvet and sharp as steel when she wanted to say something wounding. She’d driven me crazy when she’d opened her mouth, when her tongue had interwoven with mine without shame, without hesitation. It was nothing like any other girl I’d kissed before. She’d followed my rhythm, let me take control, and I’d bitten her lip from pure carnal desire because I’d wanted to consume her but also let her know who was in charge.
“That’s it?” she’d asked me, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with longing. What the fuck did she want me to do, though? If she wasn’t who she was, I’d have taken her straight to the back seat of my car. If she wasn’t so damn hard to put up with, I’d have given her the best night of her life. If she wasn’t…if she wasn’t turning my whole world upside down…
“Dude, where were you? The first race is about to begin!” Lion shouted from the place where he’d parked my black Ferrari next to my enemy’s souped-up Audi.
That was exactly what I needed. Discharging all that built-up tension at 170 miles per hour down a sand track in the middle of the night and leaving one of the losers from Ronnie’s gang in the dust. I needed to blow off steam, feel the adrenaline—adrenaline was better than desire, better than knowing that I wouldn’t have the one thing I really wanted that night…
“Tell Kyle I’ve got this one,” I said, walking over to the car. My friends were waiting for me, having fun before the flag came down, drinking,
dancing, in a good mood because they assumed we’d take the night’s prize money. That was the deal. Fifteen thousand dollars was on the line, plus the loser’s car in the final. I’d been putting off a race against Ronnie too long. Not because I feared losing—anything but. The problem was that he was a thug and a bad sport. Every year, the pot got bigger, and every year, there was more tension between our two gangs. He’d made it evident what would happen if things got out of hand. Everyone here knew the rules.
There were four gangs competing that night, and each had brought in its best drivers. Eight different cars were racing in total. We drew to find out which gang would compete against which, and we had two separate brackets. There would be three races per bracket until one was left, and that person would race the winner from the other bracket. That made six races in total, not counting the final.
And I was going to be in that final.
Since I’d started racing five years before, my team had always won. Ronnie respected me, but I knew he’d fuck me over if he ever got the chance. I was from a good family, I wasn’t in it for the money, and that got to him. He needed the cash—needed it to buy drugs and keep the guys in his gang in line. It was one thing to throw money around, another to play with the one thing that seemed to matter to him. If he lost his car, I’d need to be ready for trouble.
I ran a hand along the roof of my Ferrari. I loved that damn car; it was perfect, the fastest, the best purchase I’d ever made. I only let people I trusted drive it. My car. My rules. That was the deal. Driving it was a privilege. Everyone in my gang knew that.
“Kyle’s gonna be mad, bro,” Lion said with an awkward expression. After the drawing, we’d decided how to divvy up our guys. The four gangs were equally represented in both brackets. I knew Kyle had been gunning for Greg, the guy I’d be going against, but sorry—I was driving in this race myself.
I looked over at Lion. I was glad he was there that night. He was one of my best friends. I’d met him in one of the worst periods of my life, and we’d been inseparable ever since. I was the one who’d introduced him to his girl Jenna. She was the daughter of oil execs and had grown up in the same development as me, and we’d known each other since we were kids. She was still in high school. She wasn’t like the other daughters of millionaires—she was special, and I cared about her a lot. Lion had been hung up on her from the first moment he saw her.
“Fuck Kyle,” I said. Lion probably thought that was over the line, but he didn’t say anything. He knew when I wasn’t in the mood for bullshit. And just then, I definitely was not in the mood.
“The second curve is tighter than the first, so brake early or you’ll skid off the road,” he told me as I got in the car and put it in gear. From fifteen feet away, people were already shouting euphorically, anxious for the race to begin. Two girls were holding the fluorescent flags, ready to motion for us to take off.
“Got it,” I said. And I couldn’t help but add, “Keep an eye on Noah.” I squeezed the wheel tightly as I realized she was still stuck in my head. I couldn’t help it; I needed to know someone was taking care of her. This kind of party was dangerous for a girl like her, and Lion knew that better than anyone.
“Don’t worry, Jenna’s all over it.” That eased my mind. But then I looked where he was looking. There, with a fluorescent bandana tied around her head, as though she were a member of my gang, was Noah, arms locked with Jenna, smiling radiantly. She was euphoric. Drunk and euphoric.
Dammit.
“See you at the finish line,” I said, the way we always did when we raced.
The flags came down, the engine roared, and the wind in my face made me forget those honey-colored eyes and that scandalous body.
 |
We’d won all the races so far. Elsewhere, on the other sand tracks, all the competition had been eliminated. Just Ronnie was left. No surprise. My guy Kyle was good, but Ronnie was one of the best.
The final was going to be tough, and I was nervous about the outcome.
I still had twenty minutes to go, and I was leaning on my car drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette. Noah was with Jenna. They were living it up, as far as I could tell, dancing, drinking, just having fun. I got it—Noah probably thought she could drink away the memories of her boyfriend. I kept an eye on her every movement.
“You’re being weird tonight,” a familiar voice said from behind my back. I turned to Anna when I felt her warm breath on my neck. Just like me, she had changed. She was wearing a skimpy dress that revealed her huge boobs and thin legs. She was gazing at me with desire. We always looked at each other that way.
“It’s not the best night,” I said, trying to get her to understand she shouldn’t expect any sweet nothings from me.
“I could make it a lot better,” she said, sidling up to me and giving me a view of her cleavage. “All you’ve got to do is come with me,” she added seductively.
I had fifteen minutes left till the last race. And the truth was, I could use a little release with Anna in the back of my ride.
“Make it quick,” I said, dragging her to my car.
Fifteen minutes later, we went back to where everyone was standing, waiting on the finale. Sex with Anna had helped me clear my head. I could
have whoever I wanted—there was no need to get all hung up on some seventeen-year-old.
And then I saw her.
Everyone had moved from the starting line to the finish. Normally Lion and Jenna always stayed behind. But there wasn’t a trace of them.
I saw just one thing before my black Ferrari took off without me: the reddish-blond hair of my stepsister in the rearview mirror.
