Camila’s eyes mesmerize as we walk inside the showroom of the annual New York Sports Car Show. Car enthusiasts start inspecting the different car models-either customized and debut ones.
“Oh, my God, Pyke! A McLaren 570s coupé race-bred dynamics with a 3. 8 litre, twin-turbocharger technology, V-eight cylinder engine with a seven-speed transmission, constructed with carbon fiber with a maximum speed of 124mph in 9. 5 seconds.” Her hand grips my left arm tighter in excitement.
I smile.
“Don’t you know that Bruce McLaren was a race car designer, engineer, and an inventor? At age of 14 he started joining in a racing competition,” she adds enthusiastically.
There is nothing else sexier than a woman who’s fond of cars.
Cameras flash in every corner of this huge venue. From TV to magazine reporters are conducting their interviews with the new endorser of the Jaguar F-TYPE coupé. Some celebrities and people from the upper east side are checking around.
“Babe, I will kiss you to shut you up if you will not stop talking about a person who is already dead.” I look down at her red pouty lips, down to her cleavage. She wears a golden sweetheart-cut above the knee-length dress. She’s literally glittering under the venue lighting.
She rolls her eyes. “I came with you because of cars.”
“Ouch, babe. You just hurt my feelings.” I place my hand over my chest, faking a grimace.
Photographers come to take a look at the white McLaren in front of us. An early-thirties blond-man with a camera strap around his neck comes closer.
“Mr. Hughes, would you mind if I take pictures of this car with your date?” he asks politely.
I look at Camila’s reaction. She smiles sweetly at the man in front of us. There is nothing flirty in her smile, but it still stings my heart twistedly.
“Sure.” I simply nod at the photographer. “Go, babe, let him take a picture,” I tell Camila. Why not if that makes her happy?
“Are you sure?” she asks for my approval.
“Yes.” I nod, giving her a genuine smile.
Camila shows her killer grin then walks to the car with confidence. A woman wearing a tight red dress smiles at Camila as she approaches. She sits in the driver’s seat. Her feet with five inches white stilettos still on the floor.
My jaw clenches as I try controlling my cock from stirring. I breathe deeply when I feel the heat rushes through my system. She fixes her wavy hair to her left side shoulder, then places her hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the car’s door frame.
Camila can be a perfect car model. She smiles seductively as the photographer starts clicking. She looks magnificent as ever when the camera flashes on her.
My cock stirs when she looks in my direction. My hands are already balled into fists in my pants pockets, trying to control the effect of the gaze she’s throwing to me. She does that on purpose. Her eyes are flooded with joy and gratitude, but what affects me most is the captivating eyes that taunt me every day and every night before I sleep.
How can I take my eyes off of her when she’s hot as fuck and gorgeous as hell?
I’m doomed! The downfall of the mighty Pyke is near.
“So, she’s the girl.” A deep baritone voice and warm breath tickle my ear.
“What are you talking about, Bash?” I don’t need to turn around to see who whispers.
“Well, my wife never stopped talking about Cam girl since you two went to the flower market,” my cousin, Bash answers.
“K is a nosy little thing, isn’t she?” I give Bash a brotherly hug.
His smile widens, eyes twinkle like a boy on Christmas morning. He’s so damn happy marrying his childhood best friend. They’re already expecting a child.
“Answer me, Pykie.” Fuck! how I hate that nickname. Only that bitch called me this disgusting name. Bash knows that it pricks me to hear it, and that’s why he does that on purpose.
“She’s only here because she’s fascinated with cars,” I answer flatly.
“Is that all? And you have to call Gray for a job? Never heard you helping someone before. Why Gray though?” he asks again, eyes still on Camila. She’s busy talking to the photographers and the woman in a red dress.
“She needs a job, that’s all.” My muscles tighten with anger.
“You know I don’t trust Gray. You can pull our other connections.” Bash will know the reason why I helped Camila to get a job if I asked him.
Aaron Gray has a reputation for women. The rumors said Gray torture women for sex. I don’t really believe any of that shit.
Camila works in the designs and she doesn’t have to meet Gray every day. He’s L. A based anyway.
“I’ll call the 4X4 Gear. Let her resign from her job at GhostRides. She will be safer there than with Gray.” His strong voice tells me that he’s serious.
My blood rushes to my ear. “Why are you doing this?” My voice sounds defensive. I know he won’t stop asking until he gets what he wants.
“That’s not all that I’m gonna ask, Pykie, and that’s not what Xandry had only told me.”
My head snaps to my cousin. “What the fuck did he exactly tell you?” I demand.
“What is going on with you and Xandry?”
“Nothing.” I shrug. “What’s going with me and Xandry?” Irritation creeps in my voice. A clearing of voice on my side makes me release a shaky breath.
“Bash, meet Camila,” I tell Bash, ignoring the tense in my nerves. “Camila, this is my cousin, Kiara’s husband, Bash.”
Bash reaches out his hand to Camila. “Nice to meet you, Camila. My wife talked about the brunette she met in the flower market,” he says, looking at me with a mischievous smile. “She’s right, you’re beautiful, no wonder Pyke ran out from the coffee shop to follow you…” Bash trails off. This asshole is having fun annoying me.
“Your wife is gorgeous. Congratulations!” A red tinge blossoms on her face.
“Thanks! So, do you like that car?” Bash asks her, pointing at the white MacLaren.
Camila’s face lights up. “Oh, that’s gorgeous.” She smiles at Bash.
“Why do you like cars? Girls are supposed to like fancy clothes, diamonds, and-”
Camila waves her hand. “Well, I’m not like those girls,” she says with a little emphasis on those girls.
My brow cocks.
Bash laughs, clearly, amused with her. If he’s not married, and I trust him I might push him against the car and give him helluva of a punch.
“I love watching car racing shows on TV. I haven’t seen a live car racing event though. My cousin’s Dad work as a mechanic in an auto shop before he died. One time, he took us with him and showed us how they worked. Kill picked up wrenches and nuts while I walked to the man taping the hood of the car for designs. That’s how I started my fascination for cars,” she says with full of passion.
Why is it easy for her to share her life with someone she just meets? While she never talked to me the way she did to Bash.
They high five in front of me. That’s not it, they walk together to the displayed car, leaving me alone like I don’t exist. Ache shudders through my heart.
Goddamn it!
“Pyke, let me show you around.” A tall blonde with red fuckable lips gives me a charming smile. I can press her into any wall in a heartbeat, but there is something inside me stops me from doing so.
“Thanks, but I pass. I already have an eye for a ride.” I hope she’s not so dumb not to get what I mean.
“I’ve got a good ride,” she purrs, playing the edge of my suit’s collar.
“Trust me, I’ve got a better ride.” My cock never shows interest. I like to fuck blonde, but now I doubt myself, and my interest somewhat changes.
She starts rubbing her hands against my chest shamelessly. No effect. She Presses her D cup size against my chest-still no effect.
“We are in a public place, sweetheart,” I say as her perfume reaches my nostrils.
I love a woman who smells good. It fucking turns me on. If she did this before I met Camila, I already ditch this event or I don’t even care if we are in a public place-she’s already pressed against the hood of my car.
“We’ll enjoy each other though,” she mumbles, biting her bottom lip.
Interesting!
I scan the crowd. The place is jump packed but I still find the woman I want to do with like this.
Our gazes collide; her hawk-like glares can cut me into two. A smirk curves up my lips when she stiffens and swallows hard from afar.
“Excuse me, I need to get my girl.” Taking off the hands of this woman in front of me, I march to Camila without breaking eye contact.
She drops her gaze as soon as I get closer to her.
“Take care of your girl. I like her, Pyke.” Bash meets me halfway, clapping his hand on my shoulder.
“You’re leaving?” I ask him.
“Yeah. She’s funny, and I see that she likes you, too,” he says, waggling his brows.
“I doubt that, and I never said I like her.”
“You don’t have to, asshole.” Bash walks away, but Camila is not in her place anymore.
Fuck!
I scan around the place when I suddenly hear her rich laugh. Is she flirting with that guy showing her the black Bugatti Veyron?
She stiffens when my hand finds her waist.
Fuck!
She feels good. She feels warm, delicate, and soft against my palm.
“Are you ready to go?” My voice turns deep and raspy.
“Are you done?” The sarcasm is thick in her low voice.
“How about you? Are you done?” I ask back. Annoyance creeps in my voice.
“Let’s go,” she says. “Thanks for showing me, Connor.” She smiles to that asshole.
“Anytime.” The asshole smiles back at her, and I want to punch his face to shut that smile off of him.
***
Anger still radiates in my body, but I choose to stay quiet. There are no fucking valid reasons to discuss with her. I breathe deeply when I find my hands tighten against the steering wheel.
“Are you just gonna stay silent throughout the ride?” It’s her first time to start the conversation. Her voice is low and calm.
I look at her then focus back to the road. I don’t want to talk to her when my anger is still radiating through me. I don’t want to end up regretting if I say something out of my anger.
Why am I angry at her anyway?
“Did you enjoy the show?” Surprisingly, my voice softens.
“Yes, that was fun. Thanks for taking me to that show.”
Our gazes lock. I don’t want to take my eyes off of her, but we might get into an accident if I allow my lust takes over my brain. Her eyes twinkle with warmth and gaiety.
“You’re welcome,” I reply quietly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“You’ve been silent.” She shrugs.
“Oh, you miss my cockiness.” My lips twitch.
She just rolls her eyes and doesn’t say anything.
“Do you like that car?”
“Which one?”
“The McLaren.”
Her face lights up, nodding. “It’s hard to decide, but yup, all cars are just gorgeous.”
“You haven’t seen all, babe.”
“Yeah, are you going to take me back there tomorrow?”
“Now, you’re being greedy.”
She burst into laughter. “Fine, I won’t ask again.”
“I’ll take you somewhere better.”
“Where?” She shifts in her seat to face me.
“Now, you’re thrilled.”
She shifts back, crossing her arms over her chest. It gives me more view of her cleavage.
Jesus, have mercy on me.
***
“Come in.” She opens the door of the apartment wider.
I hesitate for a moment because I might do something stupid that I will regret later.
“Pyke.”
“Yeah?” I blink rapidly, pushing the thought back about my fantasy on what I’m going to do to her.
“Are you getting in or not?”
“We can just go to a restaurant and have dinner,” I suggest again since she refused when I first offered her back in the car.
Her reason hurts like hell. “Let’s order pizza or Chinese. Come inside because I’m starving.”
The word starving makes my cock aches, my heart gallops, and my breathing hitches.
This is frustrating!
“I really should go. I’ll order pizza on my app and let them deliver it for you, okay?”
“Why? I just wanna thank you. You’ve no idea how much that show means to me.”
“I know, let me just take you to another show some other time.”
“Fine. Drive home safe.” A bitter smile curves up her lips. “Good night, Pyke.”
I can hear the hurt and disappointment in her voice as she grabs the door handle. Is she gonna shut the damn door on my face?
“Babe.”
“It’s okay. You’re a busy person, I get it. Thanks for your time though.”
“That’s not what I mean. I-“