going?” she asks once we’re on the road.
“It’s a surprise,” I tell her.
I hear her sigh, but I don’t look at her. “My mom seems to like you,” she informs me, and I can tell it means a lot to her that I met her mother.
“I like her too. She seems like a good woman.” I don’t know much about Haelee’s past, but something tells me her birth mother wasn’t the best person. I would like to ask her about it, but I don’t want to upset her. Perhaps in time, she’ll feel comfortable enough to tell me about it. That is, if she even remembers her real mother.
“She is. I was really lucky to have been adopted by them. Even my dad was great. They both were a godsend to a young girl who didn’t have much going for her at the time.” Once more, I hear the pain in her voice, and I realize there’s so much depth to this woman that I want to delve into. I want to learn all there is to know about her. And I promise myself I’m not going to fuck this up.
I reach for the stereo to turn it on, and the deep bass of Anth comes through the speakers, which makes Haelee grin. The song, “Woah”, bounces around us, and I can’t stop glancing at her bobbing to the music. The more she moves, the more my thoughts turn to pure filth because all I can think about is watching her do that on top of me.
“I don’t mean to sound like a guy, but if you keep doing that, you’re going to kill me over here,” I tease, chuckling when she blushes. Her tanned cheeks turn a soft pink, and my focus is torn between the road and her.
When I glance her way again, I notice the small grin turning into a full-blown smile, which lights up her face in a way I haven’t seen before. It’s as if the sun is shining on her, making her skin glow beautifully. The smoothness making my fingertips tingle.
“You need to focus on the road,” she sasses me, and I like how at ease she is with me. “Besides, you’re the one listening to bad-ass rap.”
“I didn’t think girls were into rap,” I retort, knowing it’s going to spark her fire. Knowing her, she’ll defend the fact that women can listen to anything they want. I have to agree, but seeing her fired up makes my dick hard. And I can’t deny I like when she makes me hard.
“Are you being a chauvinistic asshole again?” she challenges, which has me laughing out loud.
Chuckling, I glance at her from the corner of my eye before responding, “You should be used to it by now.”
“I’m going to change that,” she warns me. “Trust me, you’ll see women as equals.” She taps my iPhone screen, turns up the music, and bounces in the seat, throwing her hands in the air as she sings along to Anth because she decided to replay the damn song and all I can think about is seeing her naked.
Jesus, I need to focus on something other than Haelee all over me. Naked. Her breath hitching. No, this is most definitely not good.
My gaze locks on the road, and I make a promise not to look at her again because if I do, I’m pulling this goddamned car over and making sure she knows just how equal I think she is. I grew up with a father who taught me that women are meant to be respected, cared for as if they were precious. Over the years, I veered away from those beliefs when I saw what my mother was like. I never understood how he loved her even while she treated him like trash.
When I first met Haelee, when she beat me on that lap around the track, I was shocked. Seeing Haelee in that driver’s seat had me at a loss, not only because she kicked my ass, but because my previous competitors were guys. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t belong. She does. More than some of the other racers I’ve come across.
“There are so many people who grow up with certain expectations and beliefs which are ingrained in them. My father was one of those people. He loved everyone. He treated everyone as if they were equal, which is one of the values I’d become jaded about over the years. Even though he grew up in a