“What’ll it be, love?”

The man who asked stared at her as if she were familiar to him and she barely resisted tensing up. She didn’t need to be recognized.

N’Jelle ‘Xin’ Marx craved nothing more than a good hard drink. At least if I can have that I’ll be on my way to forgetting this shitstorm of a day.

“Whiskey. Neat. Leave the bottle.”

The bartender nodded and had her requested items before her in mere moments. Blessedly, he then left her alone.

The first shot went down smooth and potent. Before the burn had even evaporated, she was pouring another, and chasing it down.

Warning prickles popped up along the back of her neck. That awareness came in handy while she drove on the track. Right now? Not so much.

“At least you drink whiskey like a decent human, no froo-froo shit for you.”

The slender woman that parked herself on the stool beside Xin looked not all that different from how she’d been earlier that day. N’Jelle sighed, not bothering to keep it quiet either. The other two were there as well.

She didn’t owe them a damn thing and she was irritated as fuck that they’d tracked her down.

Ignoring all three of them, she remained sitting faced forward and poured more liquid into her glass.

“Does she think we’ll just vanish if she doesn’t talk to us?”

The tallest and roughest of them had spoken this time. Not rough in an ugly way but more of an ‘I can kick your ass and look good doing it’ sort of way.

“She’s,” N’Jelle sneered, “sitting right here and doesn’t give a damn what you think I may or may not think. I’ve had enough of you today.”

“Tough shit.” The middle-sized one spoke now. She was the one who actually shared a father with N’Jelle. Xandra was her name. “You’re my sister now and I don’t know what the fuck you were thinking, that you could just roll up at our event, drop that kind of bomb and walk off.”

Turning her gaze to the beauty beside her, Xin snarled. “You what, want me to apologize for not being invited to a family event and getting permission to show up? I don’t want anything from any of you. I had wanted to know why your father couldn’t be bothered with me, but I get it now. He has you and the other two he looks on as daughters—who gives a fuck about the one who was left behind and forgotten.”

Her shitty childhood was shoving at her, pushing for her to lose it and make a scene. Draw some blood.

This wasn’t smart—she had to get moving. Getting off the stool, she dug in her pocket for some bills. She tossed them on the bar top and nodded at the bartender. Then she spun to the door.

All three women stepped in front of her, and she snorted.

“Really? Grew up on the streets, bitches. Don’t push me. Get out of my way or you’re going to lose your weaves.”

Shoving through them, she walked out through the door and stepped into the night. Off in the distance, storm clouds rolled in, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. She requested a ride and kept an eye on the door as she waited. The three women walked out as her ride pulled up.

A leanly muscled man walked up to her from a different direction, his hat pulled down over his eyes.

“Where you off to, beautiful?”

Yeah, he’ll work. “Got any ideas?”

He held the car door for her and she got in, ignoring the calls from her half-sister and cousins. She wasn’t their concern. Hadn’t been before. Wasn’t now.

She needed to forget and this man, dressed in black jeans and a tight black shirt, with scruff on his face, seemed the perfect way to go about it.

* * * *

Six weeks later

“Surely this can’t be.” Xin gulped and rubbed her hands over her eyes, praying for a different result when she lowered them.

Nope.

Still the same.

Two light pink, parallel lines.

“Fuck.”

Devastating news, and yet it made perfect sense. She’d had no concentration and been completely driving like shit.

For a moment she’d thought about getting rid of the child. She was alone, had no family to speak of. She wasn’t considering the father she just learned about and his other child as family. She only had one person to depend on and that person looked at her when she stared in the mirror.

Me, myself, and I. Just like it’s been for most of my life.

She did have one that she considered family, but heading back to him, and to that life, wasn’t an option.

Now it was her and the innocent growing inside her.

Her phone rang and she jumped, a squeal eking out from between her lips. Trying to calm her racing heart, she answered the call.

“Talk to me.”

“Xin, I…umm, we need you to come in the office.”

She sneered at her pregnancy test, tests really. They were just staring at her from the edge of her sink. Gloating.

Did those things gloat? Maybe not if there was a single, but she had more than one there. And the thing they had in common, be it two lines, a plus sign, whatever—they told her she was now officially knocked up.

Preggers. With a bun in the oven.

Honestly, it didn’t matter what phrase she wanted to link to it, bottom line was she was fucked. Royally.

Her thoughts drifted to the man it had been with. The stranger. A man she’d never exchanged names with but one who’d delivered multiple orgasms to her during that night they’d shared. Yet, there had been something oddly familiar about him. Like she should have known him.

“Xin?”

“On my way.” She hung up and swore again. What could be worse than what she stared at now? Oh right, having the boss’s jackoff son call her into the office.

Turning her back on the elephant in the room, she headed for the door, swiping her helmet as she strode. Her keys were inside and she pocketed them and her ID as she locked the door behind her.

A small smile lifted her lips as she stared at her Fireblade in HRC Tri-Color. The red, white and blue never failed to make her smile. Helmet on, she zipped up her jacket and straddled her ride.

Not much later she was weaving in and out of traffic like it stood still. Okay, so she may have to stop riding so crazy when her belly was so big she couldn’t fit on the bike. At the office, she parked and took a deep breath, scowling at herself when she realized her hand had somehow gone to settle over her belly.

Mouth a grim line, she rode the elevator up to the boss’s office. Not bothering to nod at the secretary, who hadn’t liked her since she’d come on the team, N’Jelle made her way to the heavy mahogany door and knocked.

“Come.”

Relief swept through her, the old man’s voice calming her irritated and hypersensitive nerves. He wasn’t as much of an ass as his son.

She pushed the door open just enough to slip through and stepped into the ornate office. The carpet, plush and thick, cushioned her black boots. N’Jelle flexed her hand along her helmet and removed her sunglasses as she stared at the large dark desk that took up a huge portion of the space in the office.

“Thank you for coming, N’Jelle.”

More unease spiked her. Movement to her left called her focus for a moment, but she brushed it off when she spied the son talking to another person in the corner. Something about the other guy seemed familiar but she ignored him. There was enough on her plate without her adding into that her concern over the boss’ son.

“You call, I come, Mr. Shainer.” She moved forward, pausing before the desk. “What can I do for you?”

His expression flickered and she did her best not to tense. The Sword of Damocles moved over her head like a pendulum. There was no logical reason for her to feel this way. Except for the simple yet definitive fact that the son hated her, she was a rarity as the lone Black, female driver and she just thought they didn’t want her around.

Fuck.

In her mind she could hear the ominous tick of a metronome as well. Like the one her stepfather had started using to keep him company as he’d whipped her. Every fourth click had meant another strike. How many had depended on his mood.

Then the fuck had died and she’d thought she had been lucky. Well, that hadn’t actually been the case.

Bile rose and she forced it back, unwilling to appear weak, no matter how strong the fear bowling over her. She blinked, waiting.

“There’s been a change in the racing that we wanted to discuss with you.”

Unclenching her jaw, she breathed a bit easier. Change happened in the sport all the time.

Still, he doesn’t usually deliver the news but has the crew chief do it.

Mr. Shainer shifted in his chair, but she didn’t move. She just waited, with her gaze locked on his. The ‘who speaks first’ game was one she knew well.

“You’re being pulled as our top driver.”

The grating, annoying voice belonged to Mr. Shainer’s son, Douglas.

Panic speared her chest. “What?” She glanced over her shoulder to find Douglas sneering at her. She knew exactly why—because she’d put him in his place when he’d come onto her after she’d first gotten on to the team. “Mr. Shainer?”

She once again put her gaze back on the team owner. Her boss. Not the fuck-up son.

He licked his lips, one of his nervous habits. The man didn’t have many, but she’d made a point of learning them. As a black woman in the racing world, she did a lot of observing and listening just to keep ahead, or rather, even with everyone else.

Her boss held up his hands. “I’m sorry, N’Jelle, your driving hasn’t been what it used to be. We’re bringing in someone who’s going to take the top slot. You’ll be racing with him, just not as the top seat on the team.”

She swallowed.

Deep breath, don’t let them see me sweat or squirm. I still have a job. I’m still on the team. I’m still a driver and I can make this person wish they’d never come up against me. She lifted her chin, ignoring the sniveling asshat behind her.

“I see. Am I allowed to ask who is slated to take my spot?”

“Me.”

That voice.

It was something that fantasies were made of. At least hers. Sexual fantasies.

It can’t be, can it? What are the chances that the one man I let my guard down with to just enjoy a night and he’s the one snatching my spot from me? Oh right, my luck. Damn good chance that it is one and the same.

N’Jelle turned and stared at the man who stepped from the shadow of the office. His face wasn’t clear to her, but his voice was. This was the man she’d had her one night with.

Fuck.

How could this seriously be her life? The man who had kicked her out of the top spot on the team. He was the father of her child.

Cody Gamino pushed away from the wall, stepping from the shadows and into the light to put his eyes on the woman he’d been unable to get out of his mind. In the six weeks since he’d spent the night learning her body in a way he’d never craved knowing anyone else’s, somehow, she had gotten more stunning.

Her short crop of natural curls was no longer solid black but had pops of a deep purple and dark red. Need rose within him like he’d just touched her for the first time and he longed for her hair all over him. On him. Everywhere.

He knew her mind had to be spinning and questioning whether it had all been a setup the second she recognized him. And she would be right, but he wasn’t going to tell her that now. Not here. That was something that had to happen when it was just the two of them.

Not even the owner’s son had known he’d been on his way to meet her and find what her weakness was—to exploit it. Turns out he’d not needed to do that, because her driving hadn’t been the best in that last race, last two really.

He wanted to pull her into his chest and hold her. Ask her to trust him and tell him what the problem was. She was a kick-ass driver, but in her recent races she’d gotten in her own head and in her own way.

Hoping his expression didn’t portray his hunger for her, he held out his hand.

Those dark brown eyes narrowed imperceptibly and she turned away from him, back to Mr. Shainer.

“Why did I need to come in?” There was an edge to her tone, no matter how much she tried to hide it. “You could have done this over the phone. Trying to get me to quit? Thinking that bringing in a European driver is going to scare me?”

“Ms. Marx—” Mr. Shainer began, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“No need to say any more. How about this? It’s what you wanted, so here you go. I quit.” She turned and glared at Cody before she moved from the room, her head as high as if she were royalty and they’d all been dismissed.

His cock thickened and pushed with single-minded determination against the fly of his jeans.

Xin Marx stoked every one of his engines just as she had the night he’d first met her. Torn between running after her and staying put, he locked his legs, refusing to move. He needed to be here.

I also need her not to quit.

“She’s kidding,” Mr. Shainer said, his thin face flushed. A few dots of sweat moved down his forehead.

While Cody longed to believe that, he didn’t. Not for a second. That woman had a prideful streak a mile long. He may not know her well—other than how loud she screamed when she came, how her nails ripped into his back and shoulders as her back arched, taking him in deep, and how fucking gorgeous she looked on her knees sucking him off—but she was a driver. And they were a proud group.

“We don’t need her, Dad. She was always thinking she was better than she was.”

Cody forced himself not to react to Douglas’ statement. The man was not only a racist fuck, he was also an idiot of the highest caliber. Xin was a hell of a driver, and once she got over whatever block she faced at the moment, she would quickly be on top again.

“We do need her, son.”

The muttered response from the young man beside him had Cody grinding his jaw. But he still didn’t move.

“I was under the impression we would be working together. That’s what I was told when you signed and brought me here. Our contract’s null and void if she’s quit.”

More sweat dotted his boss’s head. “I’ll talk to her. She’s not quitting.”

Deaf people could have picked up on the desperation in that tone. All Cody did was nod and head for the door, needing to find her.

His subconscious nipped at him and told him he needed to inform her that he’d known exactly who she was when he’d met her. Known he was supposed to be driving on the same team as her. It had been a deal negotiated by the son, which was why there were loopholes in his contract. He could pull out and leave. His agent was smart as a whip, and because Douglas had been so focused on showing his father he could do something on his own, the man had overlooked a lot.

The secretary wiped the sneer off her face when he stepped into the area, and shot him a look of pure lust. Cody wasn’t unfamiliar with women coming on to him. Something that came with the territory. He barely spared her a glance, just headed to the elevator and waited for it to reach his level so he could get to the ground floor.

I have to call my agent and see how much of a hassle things could become.

The vision that met him when he stepped off the elevator tossed that thought from his mind. Xin stood outside the building, speaking to a guard and laughing.

Desire rocked him. His fingers burned to skim along her skin once more. His mouth watered to taste her on his tongue. And jealousy surged at the sight of another man so close to her, getting her scent, her smiles, her joy.

He hurried over the white tile and shoved through the door.

“Xin.”

Her reaction was immediate. She stiffened before it could be controlled. Another smile to the guard and she patted his arm before looking over her shoulder at him, eyes icy daggers.

He half expected her to walk off and not give him the time of day. But she waited, her expression smoothing out to unreadable. Not even an eyebrow up in impatience. She just watched and waited.

Cody cut his gaze to the guard standing there. Again that wave of jealousy slammed him.

“I’d like a word with you. In private.” He glared at the man so close to her.

It chafed that the guard didn’t step away until Xin gave him a slight nod. Then it was just the two of them. Alone, in front of a building, on the sidewalk. They wouldn’t be alone long. One or both of them were sure to be recognized soon.

“Can we go somewhere.?”

“No.” No inflection in her tone. Just matter of fact.

He feared she would bolt at any moment if he stepped closer. Her stance didn’t change, but the guard did, his stance shifting to one of protectiveness. Cody didn’t appreciate that at all.

“Xin?”

“I’m waiting.”

Yeah, so was he.

Most likely not for the same reason. “I didn’t mean for them to announce it like that.”

“So you knew?”

“When I signed the contract.” He licked his lips “We need to sit down and talk strategy.”

She blinked twice, her bottom lip pushing out. Not a deliberate seduction attempt, but he was fucking seduced all right.

The tip of her tongue dipped into view and he bit back a moan. Behind her, a loud rumble preceded a crotch rocket that pulled up to the curb and a tall man stepped from the back of it, leaving it beside him.

“There is nothing,” she paused, “at all we could have to talk about. Good luck with your career.”

Cody called out to her. She went to the bike and slid onto the back. Seconds later, she put her helmet on and revved the engine.

He clenched a fist as the vehicle pulled away.

This doesn’t look promising.

Cody didn’t go back inside—instead he headed for his car. His earlier prediction of getting recognized happened and his progress was slowed severely. In even more of a foul mood when he reached his car, he stabbed the ignition button and allowed the engine to purr beneath him.

On the road, he thought about all of this and called his agent. Drymond answered on the first ring.

“How’d it go?”

“I feel like I fucking ruined her life. Oh, and she quit. Wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Business, Cody. It’s not your job to worry about her feelings. This is her own fault. Had her driving been up to snuff, they wouldn’t have come after you.”

“Bullshit. That’s not how this went and you know it. You and I both know the son did this behind Daddy’s back. The old man looked like he was seconds away from a heart attack. He didn’t want her to quit. His expression didn’t get any better when I mentioned that racing with her was in my contract.”

Dry grunted and Cody knew he was reclined in his chair, tossing a baseball and catching it while they spoke.

“Are you telling me you want out?”

“Not yet.” Out meant back to Europe and he wasn’t ready. Not now that he’d met Xin in real life. He wanted to stay here, where she was far more than an untouchable fantasy.

“Find her home address for me. I want it.”

“Most drivers are private.”

He knew that.

“Don’t care. Schmooze her agent. Tell them we’re driving together and I want to send her a gift.” He shifted gears as he pulled up outside his new living place. “Do what you have to, but I want it within the hour.”

Cody ended the call.

The sixty minutes he’d given his agent passed by with the speed of a snail. His mind had created many different scenarios for their reunion. In not a single one of them had he envisioned her quitting and walking out on not just the team but also him.

When his phone rang, he answered on the first ring.

“Where is she?”

“She isn’t giving you a damn thing, Cody.”

He fisted a hand and pounded the cold countertop. “I didn’t tell you to give me fucking excuses. I told you I wanted her information. If you don’t have that shit, hang up the phone and get it. If you have it, shoot it to me and hang up.”

“You need to listen to me. Her information is locked up tight. I can’t get it. No one is giving up that information. And before you tell me to try harder, even her team only has a P.O. box.”

Words he wasn’t about to take. He walked to his refrigerator and opened it. Biting back another curse, he stared over the few contents. “Where is she now?”

Dry was silent as he typed. “Last sighting was twenty minutes ago. Rafferty’s.”

Cody ended the call. He knew where that was, it was the first place Douglas had taken him as he was being schmoozed to come to the team.

If they’d only known that his one requirement for joining was Xin.

He’d wanted her since he’d first seen her on the track. His desire and craving had only grown over the years.

Now he was here.

But she wasn’t, and he’d bet his penthouse she hadn’t known who he was the night they were together.