Hard and Fast (12 page)

“Well, it’s custom fit for my body so I don’t move around too much, and it’s made of aluminum for safety. Head and neck restraints are mandatory, and no, it isn’t very comfortable. But this isn’t a lazy drive in the country. I’m going over a hundred and eighty miles per hour.” Ty couldn’t quite keep the pride out of his voice. He loved his job, loved the thrill of racing, the satisfaction of making a car that his crew had worked so hard on perform well for them.

“In golf course green.”

He grinned. “Yes, smart-ass.”

“How do you control the car?” She was leaning over and peering at the gauges, the floor, the pedals.

“Skill, honey. That’s all.”

“I can’t imagine going that fast.”

“I bet you would like it.” Ty couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and stroke her silky dark hair as it trailed over her shoulder. “Bet you like it hard and fast.”

Her head snapped up. “That was an innuendo.”

“Sort of.” He shrugged. “Okay, hell, yeah, it was. I admit it.” He was a guy, he couldn’t help himself. Almost everything reminded him of sex and how much he wanted to get her naked. “But I do think you’d like riding along on the track with me. We should do that sometime, they have special events for that. You can have the thrill of the speed without having to be the driver.”

“I would like that.” Imogen stared up at him, and the tip of her tongue came out and slid across her bottom lip. “I would like that a lot.”

Since she had stripped off her conservative yet very hip blazer, Imogen was wearing only a long-sleeved button-up shirt that was currently gaping at her cleavage. She didn’t have large breasts at all, but what Ty could see—and okay, what he had liberally felt up the night before—was that they were firm and pert. He could see her nipples through the fabric, and it was so obvious to him that she wanted him. Why the hell had he sent her home the night before? It had made sense at the time in that he had wanted to do the right thing, but who was he to tell her they should wait if she didn’t want to?

Seriously, what guy was stupid enough to do that?

Apparently him.

But that was last night. Today he was going to take what her eyes and her lips were offering.

Ty leaned into the window and kissed her quickly, rougher than he intended, but he was on the edge. She didn’t seem to mind, given that she stared up at him and gave a soft moan of pleasure. Damn, he loved the way she gave in to him, the way she let him lead.

He could see the question in her eyes, knew she wasn’t going to ask it. Not that he could blame her. She felt like he had turned her offer down the night before, and she wasn’t going to put herself out there a second time and risk rejection. But that had never been his intention, not at all. He wanted her in the way he hadn’t wanted a woman in so long, maybe ever. This was urgent, a burning, biting need to take Imogen and make her his.

Brushing his finger across her bottom lip, he said, “Come home with me. Spend the night with me. Please.”

Ty leaned against the side of his car, muscles tense, mouth hot, waiting for her answer. He wouldn’t blame her if she said no, but he would probably cry.

But Imogen just looked up at him and said, “Get me out of this car and take me to bed.”

That was not going to be a problem.

 

 

IMOGEN figured she was the one who should be embarrassed given the way she had just blurted out that Ty should take her to bed, but as they drove back to his place, he was the one who was rambling, indicating that he was nervous and felt the need to fill the silent void with inane conversation. She had never been one to babble when she was nervous, leaning more toward retreating into that silence, but a lot of people had their anxious energy burst forth in rapid speech, and clearly Ty was one of them.

“Do you like football?” he asked her, then shook his head. “Of course you don’t like football. What the hell am I talking about? Nothing about you says pigskin. And I mean that in the best way. Though it would be very cool if you were smart, beautiful,
and
liked sports. But somehow I can’t ever see you throwing on a jersey and cursing at the referee. What about camping?”

It intrigued her to think that he might be invested enough in the outcome of what they were about to do to actually be nervous, and she tried to follow his rapid conversation.

“Camping? What about it?”

“Do you like it?”

“I’ve never been camping.”

“You’ve never been camping?” Ty sounded shocked, like she had confessed to being a twenty-eight-year-old virgin. “Not even as a kid?”

That amused Imogen. “No. I grew up on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. My mother runs an art gallery and my father is an investment banker. When they wanted to escape the city, we went to the Hamptons and stayed in my grandparents’ beach house. Aside from those trips to the beach, the closest I ever got to nature was watering the potted plants on the terrace of our apartment.”

“Wow, I never thought about it, but yeah, I guess why would you go camping? I should take you, you’ll love it.”

Imogen felt a fair amount of alarm. “No, no, you don’t need to do that. I suspect I actually won’t like it at all. I don’t feel like my life is lacking because I haven’t been camping. I mean, I’ve walked in Central Park hundreds of times and that’s very bucolic.”

Ty scoffed. “That is not the same as going deep into the woods, lying down on a sleeping bag, and listening to nothing but the sounds of nature.”

“I’m a sociologist, not a botanist.” Plants were green, end of story. She didn’t feel the need to submerge herself in them.

He cut her a look that told her he wasn’t amused. “No arguments, I’m taking you. This is the stubborn Taurus talking.”

That irritated her in return. “You can’t make me go. And we’re not even supposed to be dating.”

Now he really shot her a look that told her he did not appreciate that little reminder. “Okay, here’s the deal. Everyone should be open to new experiences, right? So you agree to go camping, and I’ll agree to do something you want me to try. You can drag me to an art gallery or something, whatever you want.”

They had just pulled into Ty’s driveway and he put the car in park as Imogen watched him. He was serious about his offer, and it intrigued her. What would she like Ty to experience? And was she willing to venture into the woods for a weekend of bug bites, misery, and uncertain hygiene to introduce Ty to something from her world?

Without hesitation, she realized she was. Because it occurred to her that both she and Ty had lived very narrow lives and could only benefit from a little broadening of experience. Plus she knew that he underestimated his own intelligence, and she wanted him to appreciate and understand that he was a very bright guy.

“Okay. I will go camping if you read
Much Ado About Nothing
in its entirety.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he only hesitated a second before saying, “It’s a deal. I’ll pick me up a copy in the next few days. And you look at your calendar and see when you have a Monday and a Tuesday free and we’ll hit the woods.”

“Oh, that’s going to be tricky,” she said, seeing an out for herself immediately. “I have class.”

“Don’t you have any days off? Veterans Day is next week, don’t you get that off?”

“I don’t know,” she lied. Then because she never lied and wasn’t comfortable with it, she immediately admitted the truth. Her mother had always said she didn’t need to confront Imogen about her lies, she just needed to wait thirty seconds and Imogen would confess. It was clearly still true because she said, “Yes, we have the day off.”

“So we’ll go then. We can leave first thing Monday morning and come back Tuesday. Just one night. I’ll clear those two days with my assistant Toni and find a campsite.” He smiled at her. “We’ll have a great time.”

That she seriously doubted. “You’re going to regret taking me out into nature. I am confident I’m going to complain the majority of the time.”

But Ty just said, “You can’t complain if your lips are busy doing other things.”

“Like what?” she said, even though she knew full well what he was talking about.

“Come inside and I’ll show you.”

He didn’t need to ask her twice. In fact, he’d only needed to ask her once—she’d been ready the night before. Of course, she had been a nervous wreck about the whole thing and probably wouldn’t have enjoyed herself as much as she could have. She couldn’t say why precisely, but it was only twenty-four hours later and she was experiencing none of the anxiety she’d had the night before. It wasn’t logical but she decided not to question it and just accept it for what it was.

This was her fantasy. This was her opportunity to step outside of the academic dating pool of men in ill-fitting sweaters and experience sex with a very masculine race car driver. A man she had been attracted to from the first moment she had laid eyes on him, even as she had known having any kind of relationship with him was sheer lunacy. She had never even thought that Ty would be attracted to her in return, she had never expected to be given the opportunity to share a bed with him, and she wanted to take advantage of it. She wanted to discover if he was as aggressive and fun and sexy in bed as he was out.

“Lead the way,” she said, and even as she spoke the words, she had a sexual epiphany. Every man she had dated had been confident in his intelligence and his career, but not necessarily sexually. She had been forced to be more dominant than she would have chosen, and that was part of the appeal of Ty—she wanted a man to take the reins while she sat back and enjoyed. Or laid back as the case may be.

The very thought of Ty taking and giving, in total control of her pleasure, sent a rush of liquid warmth between her thighs.

She was aware that her voice had gotten husky and it was clear Ty was aware of it, too. They stared at each other in the shadowy dark of the car for a long, drawn-out minute, each second of his eyes on her working as effectively as if they were his fingers stroking over her bare flesh, causing her nipples to harden, abdomen to tighten, legs to shift slightly apart.

“Oh, fuck,” Ty said, shaking his head slightly. “You are so hot.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Imogen said, bewildered.

“Yes, you are. You’re devouring me with your eyes. And God, you have the deepest, most intelligent eyes I’ve ever seen. I can see the complexity of your brain in your eyes and it turns me on.”

“And here I was just thinking I would love to run my hands all over your chest and squeeze your butt.”

Ty gave a soft laugh. “You’re more than welcome to anytime. Now I’m going to get out of this car before I take you right here. Which has its merits but might upset the neighbors.”

Imogen didn’t even have time to answer before Ty was out of the car, so she opened the passenger door and bent over to snag her purse off the floor. When she looked up, she was startled to find Ty in the doorway, his crotch almost eye level to her. Not sure what he was doing, she dragged her gaze off his promising erection and up to his face.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Just giving you a hand.” Ty reached out to help her out of the car.

For some stupid reason, that touched her. It was a basic courtesy, yet it melted her very vulnerable heart. Other men could do the same and she would think nothing of it, except that they were decent human beings who had been raised well, but there was something about Ty that had always affected her differently, from the very first time she’d met him.

She wasn’t sure whether she liked it or hated it.

“Thanks.” Taking his hand, she got out of the car, expecting he would let go of her the minute she was vertical. He didn’t. He just held her hand and led her into the garage and through the back door into his kitchen, flicking on lights as they went.

Imogen wasn’t sure what she had expected his house to look like, but immediately she realized it suited Ty. The kitchen cabinets were Shaker style, light wood with simple lines, of a high quality with furniture like detailing. He had a farmhouse sink and soapstone countertops, and the walls were a rich, deep red. She only caught a glimpse of the family room, but it had a stone fire-place that went from hearth to ceiling and big plush furniture in warm caramel and suede tones. If she wasn’t mistaken, there was also a giant deer head hanging on the wall, which wasn’t unusual for a man who loved the outdoors, but she was still grateful it was too dark to see those glassy eyes staring down at her.

The only thing she had ever hunted down were bargains at Saks and elusive research documents.

When they stepped into his bedroom, Ty turned on the light, which was an iron chandelier dead center over the very big, very masculine bed. It was made up, with a plethora of red throw pillows on the faux suede duvet, and the whole room was tidy and clean. She was impressed.

Ty dropped her hand and left her standing on the plush beige carpet, feeling incredibly aroused and terribly awkward. He dug into his nightstand and emerged with a lighter that he used to light several candles placed around the room. His nervous dialogue seemed to have disappeared and she longed for it to return, because with each second of silence, her anxiety increased, which irritated her.

She was a grown woman and she wanted to do this. A lot.

Which was ironically why she was so nervous. She was vested in the outcome. She wanted to please him and was aware of her shortcomings. No one had ever put the words
bimbo
and
Imogen
in the same sentence. Or
badass
. Or
seductive
. Any of what she had to assume were the typical male fantasies. Her approach had always been enthusiasm rather than technique, and what if that wasn’t good enough for Ty?

She was giving herself a mental lecture when he dimmed the overhead light and turned to her with a smile that immediately disappeared when he caught sight of her. “What’s wrong?”