Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
E ric felt amazing.
Except for the fact he was about to watch his girlfriend race a criminal at breakneck speeds and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it. Not if they wanted to get this creep and his little enterprise off the streets.
When they had arrived at the meeting point, it was purposely half an hour late, with the intention of pissing Shane off, but the joke was on them. He hadn’t arrived either.
An hour later and they were still waiting.
“Do you think he knows?” Dane murmured, as they pretended to be interested in the purple Lamborghini rolling past them, AC/DC blasting from within.
“How could be know?” Emily asked.
She was safely tucked between him and Dane, looking cute as fuck in her tight blue jeans and a yellow leather jacket that clung to her curves, and was drinking coffee from the servo down the street.
Their girlfriend . Officially.
And all of a sudden he felt amazing again.
Until his brother reached over the top of Emily and flicked his forehead. “Get your head in the game.”
Eric’s gaze connected with Dane’s and he realised he was smiling. He couldn’t help it. He was happy, giddy even. But Dane was right. Focus . “I doubt he knows. More likely, he’s playing mind games.”
“He wants to piss us off, like we tried to do to him?” Emily said.
“Exactly. But with guys like this, it’s also a boost to their ego. By making everyone wait for him he can prove how important he is.”
“Wow,” Emily drawled. “Tell me you have a small dick without telling me you have a small dick.”
Dane chuckled and shook his head. “So you’re saying punctuality equals big dick energy?”
“Absolutely.”
“You do remember that we also arrived late?” Eric reminded her.
“Yeah, but I’ve already seen your dicks,” Emily said, grinning, “and generally speaking, you two are very punctual.”
Dane matched her grin. “Have we told you lately how much we love you?”
“Not since you asked me to be your girlfriend,” she said, her cheeks colouring with that sweet rosy blush that was all Emily.
Eric bent his head to kiss their girl when an engine revved and a cheer went up through the crowd and the familiar rumble of a Mustang grew closer.
“Show time.”
They continued standing beside Dane’s car, watching and listening to the goings-on around them.
Shane took his time making his way over to them, shaking hands and kissing women and posing for photographs.
Wanker . Eric even caught a glimpse of Detective Cross amongst the crowd, blending in with the rest of the hoons, drooling over engines and ogling pretty girls.
The local police had been given a heads-up about the race too, and asked to minimise their presence where possible.
So far, so good with only one patrol car driving by in the last hour.
Which meant they were just waiting on the douchebag with delusions of grandeur to make his move and get this race on the road.
“Um, hello.” A trio of young women approached them while they waited.
“What do you want?”
“Don’t be rude.” Emily scowled up at him, then smiled at the girls. “Sorry about him. He’s a grumpy bugger. What’s up?”
One of the young ladies glanced cautiously at him and Dane, before speaking to Emily. “Ah, we just wanted to say good luck, and that we hope you win.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, of course we do.” The older girl in the trio thumbed over her shoulder at the mostly male crowd. “These guys never take us seriously as drivers. It’d be really cool if someone made them change their tune.”
Emily’s smile lit up the night. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, then shook their hands. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”
“No probs. Good luck.”
“See?” she said, as the girls moved on to the next car. “No need to be rude. Not everyone at these things is a terrible person.”
No. Many of them are victims. But he kept the thought to himself and kissed her temple instead. His sweet girl needed to focus on the race and not the plight of others.
That was his job.
Eventually Shane made his way over to them, his brother and groupies in tow, all of them grinning like idiots. “You showed up.”
Emily folded her arms over her chest. “You didn’t think I’d come?”
Dane snorted. “He’s gunna wish you didn’t.”
“On the contrary,” Shane said, sliding his slimy gaze from the top of Emily’s head to the tips of her sneakers and back again, lingering on her breasts. “I love a bitch who comes when I tell her to.”
Just like the night before, the crowd made stupid wooing noises in an attempt to keep the smack talk going. And just like the night before, the urge to rip Shane Spencer’s throat out had Eric taking a step forwards, but to everyone’s surprise, Emily started laughing.
She nudged him and Dane. “What did I tell you?” She tilted her chin at Shane. “Small dick energy.”
The young women they’d spoken to earlier burst out laughing, as did several others, including Detective Cross, who had worked his way to the front of the gathering. The laughter eased Eric’s tension just enough to stop him from doing anything stupid.
Shane smiled but there was no humour in it. “When it comes to small dicks, I guess you’re the expert.”
Again Emily shocked him, this time by reaching down and grabbing the front of his jeans.
He was already semi-hard just from being in her presence, and would bet good money his brother was too, but feeling her small hand cup his balls before rubbing his shaft through the soft denim sent a spike of arousal to his brain and made his dick as hard as steel.
Then Emily moulded the denim around his cock, showing off his shape and size, and said, “You tell me, ladies, do I look like the small dick expert?”
Multiple women leered at Eric and Dane and made appreciative noises, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Detective Cross laugh and take a photo.
Great .
Leaning into her ear, he growled, “Kitten.” It was meant as a warning.
One she ignored when she smiled up at him, gave him another squeeze, and whispered, “Just go with it.”
Glancing at Dane, Eric shook his head. His brother had folded his arms over his chest and was rocking his hips forwards, blatantly pressing his cock into Emily’s grasp while grinning at their prey. Eric cleared his throat to get Dane’s attention.
“Yeah, like I’m ever going to tell our girl not to touch my dick.” Dane shot him his best “are you stupid?” look. “I mean, come on.”
They’ve both lost their damn minds.
“How about we stop measuring our dicks and get this show on the road,” Eric said.
Shane nodded. “Agreed.”
“Spoil sport,” Emily whispered, then blew a kiss at him.
Catching her chin between his fingers, Eric squeezed, and said, “Don’t make me put you over my knee in front of all of these people, kitten.” Her eyes immediately widened and her pupils dilated, and he was pretty sure she was about to beg him to fuck her again when Dane tapped his shoulder.
“And you think I’m bad,” he said, chuckling. “You look like you’re about to throw her over the bonnet and give her a good hard fuck.”
“I’d be down for that.” She practically sighed the words, and didn’t break eye contact for even a second.
One corner of his mouth twitched up. “Only if you’re a good girl,” he said. “And win the race.”
“What if I lose?” She pouted.
“Then prepare for a spanking,” he said.
Emily’s jaw dropped before she realised he was joking and she rolled her eyes at him. “I’m winning this race,” she said, bopping him on the tip of his nose with her finger. “You just watch me.”
“Are you done eye-banging your bitch, or what?” Shane said as he approached, then gestured for them to pop the bonnet. “Let’s see what you’re working with.”
It went against every fibre of Eric’s being to ignore the shithead’s disrespect, but one small shake of Emily’s head was enough to cool his temper and get on with the job.
He also expected the arsehole to make rude comments about Dane’s car—the only other love in his brother’s life—but Shane simply grunted and looked vaguely impressed, then invited them to check out his engine.
Dane and Emily obliged while Eric stayed with the car. He didn’t trust one of Shane’s cronies not to tamper with it and do something that could cost Emily the race.
As it was, Shane seemed far too relaxed for a man about to lose his prized possession.
But maybe he truly didn’t believe that Emily was any kind of threat to him.
It was possible, he supposed. As those girls had said earlier, men always underestimated women when it came to cars.
And unlike Eric and Dane, Shane didn’t have the advantage of knowing how kickass their woman was on the track.
He’d never seen her race before. They had.
With that thought in mind, Eric couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face as he watched Shane and Emily interact. She was right. He did give off small dick energy. But wasn’t that the problem with every guy that underestimated a woman regarding everything?
He hoped he and Dane were smarter than that, but knew realistically they were going to screw up again. Not that Emily was a perfect human either.
But she was perfect for them.
“Last chance to forfeit, cutie,” Shane said, twirling his keys around his finger. “We’re talking V8s here. That’s a lot of power for a little girl. You sure you can handle it?”
Emily returned to Eric’s side, leaned into him and slid her hand over his chest, his heart.
Her touch was firm and sure and just a little possessive, and his cock—which had resumed slumbering against his thigh—sprung to attention so fast it made his head spin, but he held himself in check. Focus, idiot.
“You should be less concerned about what I can handle,” Emily said, “and more concerned with what I’ll do to your car when I win.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “I wonder how much I can get for those fuck ugly rims?”
“Good thing you’ll never need to know.” Shane scowled. “Let’s race.”