“So how’d I do?” Dom asked, raising his wine glass to his lips. In his opinion he’d done really well. He knew he was a good cook when he wanted to be. Should have cooked more when Mia was there. Wasn’t right that he always made her do all the cooking and cleaning, but he’d never really thought about it before. Only time he ever did house work was if she was sick and people were coming over, but even then, half the time he didn’t bother. Never really cooked much either, couple barbeques and the occasional pasta bowl when he was in trouble for something.
Claudia downed the rest of her wine and reached for the bottle refilling first her glass and then his. Leaning back in the chair she dabbed at the corners of her lips and smiled, “Passable. Perhaps even decent. What did you call this wonderful meal again?”
“Fettucine con pesce formaggio.” He took another sip of the wine and wished for a beer. He didn’t like the wine. He definitely preferred Corona and if he was feeling fancy he’d squeeze a lime into it. Mia had been trying to civilize him with chardonnay and merlot, which weren’t so bad. Pinot grigio was pretty nasty though. He and Steve over at the Vons where going to have a little chat about wine selection next time he went shopping. He took another sip and hid the flinch.
She laughed, “Do you enjoy using words other people cannot hope to decipher or do you honestly think I speak Spanish and Italian?”
“Well, you are in college.” Dom shrugged. She could dish it and she could take it. And she was making a concerted effort to keep things light which he appreciated more than he could ever express. The tension was thick in the air and he knew it was his fault. So many conflicting thoughts were stirring though him. Heart, mind and loins embroiled in battle, the outcome of which was still uncertain.
She laughed again pulling him out of his confusion and said, “Medical school actually, but aside from a little Latin and French I am a one language girl. Are you fluent in Spanish and Italian?”
He could lie and tell her he was; she’d never know the difference. Instead he truthfully joked, “Nah, I just speak food real well.”
That elicited a belly laugh that bent her over. It also earned him the biggest smile of the night. She reached out and slapped him lightly on the arm. The jolt of electricity that passed between them went straight to his loins along with a rush of blood. She felt it too he noted because she instantly retreated and looked uncomfortable.
She started glancing around the room, avoiding his eyes. She also changed the subject. “So where’s your sister? I assume she lives here also?”
Her question, innocent enough, killed his mood. He tried not to let it show. “She did but she just moved out. Gonna stay in the dorms now.”
The look of concern on her face told him she read him like an open book. “You miss her?”
“Not really.” He lied hoping Claudia wouldn’t probe any further.
She fell silent for a moment, staring into her wine glass. He could see her struggling for a way to change the dark mood that had descended between them. Finally she looked up at him and asked with a very small, hopeful smile, “So what else did you have in store for me tonight Dominic?”
What the hell kind of open-ended question is that? He looked at her sharply and inhaled the heady scent of peaches. He would forever associate that smell with this girl he was sure. A thousand remarks, ranging from humorous to sexual raced through his mind and he couldn’t suppress a smile. She looked completely flustered and he decided not to press her saying, “I think I’ll just let that slide for now.”
“Thank you.” She murmured, her face as red as a beet. Obviously she had thought of a wide range of embarrassing comebacks as well.
“I’ll tell you the truth. Don’t really know what to do with a girl like you. I didn’t have anything planned beyond dinner.” When did you get honest player? What the fuck are you doing, man? His lips continued to speak as if they had a mind of their own. “Have a feeling most of the stuff I like to do wouldn’t interest you much so maybe we should call it a night.”
She looked surprised for a moment but it passed and her eyes narrowed into a glare. “A girl like me? Now who’s stereotyping who? How do you know what I like to do?”
He shrugged, “Don’t. That’s the point. Haven’t got a clue what to do with you.”
It was almost true. Everything he could think of, most emanating from below the belt, seemed totally inappropriate. His heart was clinging to the idea that Letti was only three doors down the street. He liked Claudia, under different circumstances there was no way he wouldn’t go for it, but at the moment he felt like a shit for even having her in his house. Actually, he felt like a shit for wanting to have her in his house.
Her expression turned thoughtful and she looked down at her hands in her lap for a long moment. The silence was uncomfortable and thick. She sighed, raised her head and turned guarded hazel eye on him. She didn’t look entirely comfortable with the decision she’d made but she said, “You could take me for a drive and show me what NOS is all about. You said you would, remember?”
~~~~~
“Damn girl, you look amazing,” Marco complimented as Letti climbed into his car.
“Thanks,” was all she said. She was busy chewing at her bottom lip and scowling at the Mercedes in the Toretto driveway as they passed.
Who the fuck is she? Can’t be from the neighborhood. How did Dom meet a girl with a car like that? She counted back in her head and realized it had been less than a week since they broke up and her anger flared hotter. But almost as soon as it did a traitorous part of her brain reminded her that she was being a hypocrite. How could she get mad at him for having a girl over when she was about to go to the races, his little kingdom, with her new man? It was a bitter pill and one swallowed only with the justification that he’d cheated first and was therefore much more guilty than she.
Once passed the offending vehicle and the house it sat in front of, she looked over at Marco, watching his graceful hands on the steering wheel. They were so unlike Dom’s. Dom’s hands were broad, callused, strong. They were rough on her skin when he touched her and she was always after him to embrace the use of lotion to soften them up. They could stay like sandpaper now for all she cared. Let the new bitch get scratched up.
Marco must have read her mood. “You still jonesing for that bastard, Let?”
“Fuck Dom.” She glared back out the window trying to force her mind to focus on something, anything, but what she assumed was going on in his Dom’s bedroom. None of it mattered now, she reminded herself. She had a new man. Marco treated her well enough. It hadn’t been long but he took her places, introduced her to his friends as his girlfriend. Even after years, Dom had done only stuff like that grudgingly.
Marco was handsome too. Black hair, golden eyes, olive skin. He’d gotten ripped in prison, coming out looking like a serious athlete with a few too many tattoos. The best part was that he actually talked to her. Shared his thoughts with her, at least a lot of them. There were things he wasn’t telling her but she figured with time he would.
If only she could stop comparing them. It was such bullshit to constantly pit the two against each other. They couldn’t be more different so it wasn’t really fair. It was like comparing apples and oranges. Totally pointless.
And she still hadn’t told any of her friends about Marco. She didn’t want to and that wasn’t right. Her mood was bad and her thoughts were not improving the situation so she changed the subject, hoping idle conversation would help, “You racing tonight, Marco?”
“Nah, just wanna see what’s up. Been a stretch you know? Figure I’ll take it easy for a while, see what’s new, make whatever adjustments I gotta and then start kickin’ some ass. Gotta get my place back but I’m gonna be smart about it.”
She thought about that for a second, incompatible feelings making her stomach churn. The only way he’d get his place back was if he unseated Dom. It was what the bastard deserved, but she’d helped get him there. It would hurt Vince, Leon and Jesse too. The flipside was that until he’d been sent up four years ago, Marco had been the king of the racers. Dom had just filled the void.
If they raced she wondered who would win. She’d never seen Dom back down from anyone and she knew Marco was equally determined. The pair hated each other too. Whatever happened, it was going to be the battle of the century and she had a ringside seat.
~~~~~
“You have got to be kidding. This is not at all what I meant, Dom. You actually expect me to drive this?” Claudia stood beside the modified Nissan Sentra and felt like she was on another planet. Everything was going too fast. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t think straight. 170 mph in Dom’s Mazda earlier still had her breathless. NOS and adrenaline coursed through her, combustible fuel for a fire she wasn’t sure if she wanted to flame or douse.
“Yup. What can it hurt?” Dom stuffed the keys into her hand and stepped back.
“Well, the car for starters. Surely you haven’t forgotten the pole that brought us together in the first place. You never know, could kill us both too.” She tried to hand the keys back to him but he balled his fists behind his back. Without another option, and frankly reveling in the option of last resort, she stepped up to him and shoved the keys in the front pocket of his pants. Patting his stomach she said firmly, “No, I’d rather you drive.”
He glanced down at the key chain protruding from his pocket and then back up watching her from under hooded lids. Pulling out the keys again he stepped in closer to her.
“But I’ve been driving all night.” He tilted his head and leaned in closer, exhaling warm against her ear. Her breath caught in her throat when his hand made contact with her waist and traveled down to her pocket where he inserted the keys. His voice was a low, seductive rumble in her ear, “C’mon, Claudia. Trust me.”
Butterflies erupted in her stomach and she took a hasty step back. Feeling foolish she glanced up at him and saw the naked disappointment that lingered on his face for just a second before being replaced by uncertainty and then a mask of calm indifference.
She tried not to regret backing away from him and failed. Her emotions were totally conflicted and confusing. But her choices were clear. Drive or call the evening to an end. Ending it was what she should do, but it was the last thing she wanted. Deciding that they weren’t done yet she tried to rekindle the playfulness, “I do trust you. I’m just wondering why you are trusting a girl who’s spending $15,000 at your shop to repair a car she wrecked.” That earned her a slight smile. She jabbed again, “Are you insane?”
He shrugged, “Nah, this car doesn’t matter, Claudia. I won it off some kid who thought he was hot shit. For this thing to be worth anything to me I’d have to drop $10 g’s into it minimum. You could total this piece of shit and I wouldn’t care.”
She didn’t quite believe him. If someone like her dad said that it would be different but she knew that the money Dom could get from selling the car would mean a lot to him. Money didn’t grow on trees in his neighborhood. Thankfully, she caught her wayward tongue before it started wagging and managed to avoid totally emasculating him. She still didn’t want to drive it, but she needed a different reason. Pulling the keys out of her pocket she tried to hand them to him again putting the blame squarely on her own shoulders. “But I would care. I…”
“Get in the car, Claudia.” He cut her off and settled into the passenger side of the little car staring straight ahead.
Oh God, this is insane. She looked at him, a huge man in a tiny car. Looked like he wouldn’t get out until she did what he wanted either. Without another option, she climbed in behind the wheel. Turning to him she poked a finger in his chest. “Fine. But if we die, it’s your fault. I warned you.”
~~~~~
It was very, very late, early morning actually. Nestled within a warren of warehouses in Long Beach an eclectic group of people gathered, drawn together by a single love that transcended the common boundaries of race, religion, gender and economics. In the dim light of the streetlamps glittering like a kaleidoscope of color, hundreds of heavily modified cars had gathered, each one a work of automotive art. The crowd milled restlessly around them, awed by beauty, intimidated by speed and humored by poor attempts at one or the other.
Anticipation crackled in the air like a lightening storm.
It crackled in conjunction with a healthy dose of apprehension in Marco’s Prelude where Letti continued to sit long after he got out. Her hands nervously smoothed her skirt over her fishnet clad thighs. She tasted blood. She’d chewed on her lip so hard that it had finally started to bleed.
“You coming or what?” Marco was out of the car surveying the crowd. He leaned down, peering in at her through the lowered window. “Your old crew ain’t here, Let.”
He’d read her mind. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but flared at the idea that she was so predictable. He wasn’t supposed to know she was worried about Dom. He’d mentioned the team, but she knew he meant Dom.
“I’ll catch up with you in a sec.” She needed a moment to gather herself before she faced the crowd. She wondered how people would receive her without Dominic and the team to back her up. Would Marco be enough? Would she be enough?
“You sure?” Marco was still there, watching her with golden eyes. He looked concerned.
“Yeah.” She wished she’d stayed home.
~~~~~
“Wheeeeeeee!”
Claudia had both hands on the steering wheel and a huge smile plastered on her face. She looked like she was in heaven and they were only going 95mph. They were in the parking lot of an office complex on the east side. Huge, flat and remote. No one had been racing there for a couple months after the police had cracked down on it. The law enforcement presence had dwindled but the racers hadn’t come back to it yet. Dom was pretty sure they wouldn’t be bothered.
“This is so much fun! And to think I almost refused.” Claudia laughed as the speedometer crested 100mph.
They crossed the green line and he clicked off the stopwatch. “You beat your last time by six tenths of a second. Not bad.”
She slowed to a stop and glanced over at him. “Not good either I take it. You look like you think turtles are faster than me.”
“Some of them are.” He smiled. Cars definitely where not this girls thing and never would be. She didn’t have a natural feel for it.
Funny thing was, that while she wasn’t any good at it, she sure was having fun. And she didn’t seem bound and determined to impress him either. That was unusual. Women were always trying to impress him with their automotive skills. They assumed that the way Letti finally got into his heart was because of her love of cars. He found that kind of funny, since that was one of the things about Letti that drove him crazy. It caused conflict. He at once admired her talent and hated it because it took away his ability to take care of her. It emphasized how much she didn’t need him. Though he hated to admit it, fully aware that he was falling victim to old school macho ideology, he needed her to need him. He never got that from her, instead coming away with the sense that he was smothering her. He figured that was why they fought so much. He needed the traditional role of protector and provider while she demanded she do it all herself.
“So why don’t you show me how it’s done?”
He silently thanked Claudia for the interruption. His mind was reopening old wounds. Focusing his attention back where it belonged he said, “Already did.”
All the lessons in the world won’t make you a driver girl. Not like Letti. Letti was a natural. From the moment she slammed into first gear and the tires squealed as she let up the clutch he’d known that all he had to do was make sure she had a good car. Her instincts would carry her the rest of the way. His heart ached at the memory of the giant smile on her face that first time. Get a grip, man. His eyes danced around the interior of the small car as he fought off the loneliness he suddenly felt.
“Not in this car. What would be a good time for this car?”
God bless you. She was continuing to shift the focus back to the present. He’d invited her over to stop the constant machinations of head and heart. He’d need a distraction that knew nothing about the cause of his conflict, someone who wouldn’t accuse or judge. Claudia was filling the bill effortlessly.
She was also very good at reading his moods, something Letti never had been, and able to shift with them flawlessly. He knew he was doing a shitty job hiding his misery. But every time he got too deep she changed the subject to something light.
He glanced over at her and saw that she was smiling. He felt a smile spread on his face in response. “Bet I could get about a 13 second quarter mile outta this thing.”
“What did I do?” Her eyebrows went up and he decided in addition to being smart, she was prettier than he’d originally given her credit for.
He shook his head. “Don’t ask. You’re doing good though so don’t worry about it.”
Her eyes narrowed and she frowned obviously not believing him. After a short silence she asked, “Could my car beat this one?”
He thought about it for a minute, going over the specs on her SLK in his head. AMG built intercooled supercharged 18-valve V6 pumping out 350 horses. “It’s got an electronic driver adaptive 5 speed automatic, kind of a hybrid stick shift. Gives you more control that an automatic but not as much as a true stick. That car is no street racer, Claudia.”
She laughed. “So, if I drove this car and you drove my Mercedes, could you beat me?”
“Without doubt.” He could be driving a 68 VW bug uphill into a head wind and still beat her no matter what car she was driving. She had no timing.
“You wouldn’t let me win?”
He laughed at the playful little girl pout on her face. Forcing a serious expression he growled, “Nope.”
It was true though. He never let anyone win. Winning was an art. It was not something to be sullied by games and manipulations.
The pout broke and she smiled at him, slapping his hand. “Well aren’t you something.”
He looked at the glow of her pale skin against his much darker shade. The contrast was beautiful. He met her eyes, wearing a seductive grin. “And then some.”
~~~~~
Okay. Gotta get out sometime. Shit. Never should have come tonight. Letti looked around at the sea of humanity and cars surrounding her and wished Marco would come back and take her home. She felt sick.
Taking a deep breath Letti stepped out of the car and checked her lipstick in the side mirror before standing up tall, keeping her back straight and her eyes cold. She looked for Marco but didn’t see him. She did see Hector though and sought sanctuary in the familiarity.
Trouble was, when she got there she had no idea what to say. Hector helped her out.
“Hey, Letti. Didn’t expect to see you here. The rest of the team coming in tonight too?” Hector paused for a second and looked out over her shoulder. His eyes hardened. “Or did you come with someone else?”
Letti followed his eyes to Marco who was steadily walking toward them. Most of the crowd didn’t know him but she saw the hard stares and cold scowls on the faces of people who had been around for a few years. She inwardly cringed.
Memory recalled the days before Dom became king, when the street racer circuit had revolved around Marco. It had been very different in those days.
He’d ruled with an iron fist, his way or the highway every time. No one argued or protested because if they did they would be finding themselves driving all the way to San Diego to get a race going. No one crossed Marco.
The purses had been lower then too. People just didn’t put the same kind of cash on the cars back then. Marco raced every weekend and rarely lost. People weren’t willing to put up much money against him since the odds were so bad. It had been rumored that he didn’t win all the time because he was so much better than the people he raced against but because ‘accidents’ tended to befall people who beat him. She’d never really believed any of it though. He wasn’t that kind of guy.
Marco’s parents had lived a block over from her house when she was a kid. He was several years older than her so she’d never known him very well. All she really remembered about him was that she’d always thought he was kind of cute and that he was nice to her, something Dom never was back then. She also remembered that he and Dom had never gotten along. She’d never known why and neither of them had been willing to explain it to her.
Bearing all that in mind, it was a certainty that dating Marco was going to piss Dom, and apparently a lot of other people, off. As had been the case since she’d hooked up with Marco, sometimes she cared, right now, she didn’t. And she certainly didn’t need Hector passing judgment. Turning fierce eyes on him she demanded, “What the fuck do you care, Hector? I’m a big girl. I choose my own friends.”
“Yeah. Sure. Your taste sure has gotten bad lately, Let.” Hector looked down at her with sad eyes, like he felt sorry for her.
His pitying expression took her from irritated to pissed off in less than 10 seconds. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and snarled. “Fuck you, Hector. My personal life is none of your damn business.”
“It is if your personal life jeopardizes my business. I’m not fuckin’ around with your new juguete, Let. Never bring that puto around me or my shop.” Hector looked deadly serious. Then he pushed up from the hood of his bronze Civic hatchback and started to walk away, his arm over the shoulder of a Latina beauty. He looked back at Letti and admonished, “You’re lucky Dom ain’t here tonight, girl.”
On that score, she knew he was right.
~~~~~
The little Sentra pulled into the driveway slowly as if the moment had to be dragged out as long as possible. When it finally stopped Dom waited while Claudia turned off the engine and handed him the keys.
“That was too much fun. Thank you.”
He looked at her, the flush of her cheeks, the crest of her smiling lips, the twinkle in her eyes. A strand of her hair had pulled free in the wind and he reached out putting it back behind her ear. The red of her cheeks deepened and her eyes cast down.
“Are you always this much fun to play with?” She asked from under lowered lashes.
He smiled at her choice of words and wondered at their exact meaning. “Don’t know. You always such a good sport?”
She glanced back up at him green sparking in her hazel eyes, a smirk on her lips. “Oh no. Generally I am a terribly sore loser with a nasty streak I’m afraid.”
He leaned back in his seat, and felt the heat start to rise in earnest. He’d fought with it much of the evening but it was starting to get the best of him. Lust lowered his voice into something resembling a growl, “You have a nasty streak?”
She blushed again, the way he’d taken her statement dawning on her quickly. She stuttered, “It’s entirely situational…”
He leaned in close, the scent of peaches wafting off her skin, her hair. Her hair. He reached behind her and pulled out the pair of decorative sticks holding her hair in place. A cascade of rich, wavy, chocolate hair fell around her shoulders. He could feel the heat of her skin and got even closer, whispering in her ear, “So where’s you nasty streak now?”
“Around here somewhere,” she mumbled. She turned to face him and he saw invitation in her eyes.
“Lemme help you look for it.”
She leaned toward him, her eyes half closed. He let a hand trail down her cheek marveling at the softness of her skin. His thumb passed over her lips and they parted slightly.
Her hand came to rest on his chest but almost instantly began to drift upward leaving a molten trail up his throat, trailing the ridge of his jaw, over his cheek, temple and back down to rest on the back of his neck. She applied gentle pressure, pulling him into her and their lips met.
~~~~~
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