Twisted CravingsCora Reilly (The Camorra Chronicles #6) - Cora Reilly Page 0,25

had been a member of the Bratva for almost ten years. He wouldn’t give up easily and a few cracked ribs were nothing.

After eight hours, even the cup of vodka and my lack of hydration didn’t stop my bladder from feeling full. My eyes burned and the road became blurry on occasion. The deep blackness where the headlights didn’t touch my surroundings only added to my body’s need for rest. But the distance between me and the three cars in the lead had grown and a break would put me even farther behind, not to mention that it would allow my two pursuers to catch up, or worse overtake me. Gritting my teeth, I tried to ignore the pressure in my bladder. To banish my exhaustion, I turned on the radio, blasting my favorite playlist of Classic Metal from the speakers. Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N’ Roses awakened my senses as usual.

Even music wasn’t helping anymore as the last thirty minutes of the race trickled by. My need to pee had turned to a painful throbbing in my lower body, and my back and ass were completely stiff from sitting. I hardly felt my fingers anymore. All I could think about was peeing and sleep.

My attention turned to one of the cars in the lead which was slowly falling back. When the last minute of the racing time counted down, it was only a car length ahead of me.

Adamo’s car. He’d actually slowed down to spent the night at my side. I wasn’t sure if I was flattered or annoyed. The damsel in distress wasn’t my favorite role. On the other hand, his company hadn’t been unpleasant, but so far we’d never been completely alone. And I realized that’s what we’d be tonight—alone—as I stopped the car at exactly four a.m.

I didn’t plan to slow for Dinara to spend the night at her side. It was a spur of the moment thing when I noticed her car not too far behind me. I didn’t lose too much time to the other cars in the lead by letting her catch up with me, nothing I couldn’t make up for in the races that followed. And even if I didn’t finish the seven-day-race in number one, that wasn’t a problem. I didn’t need the money and would still earn enough points to stay in the race camp. Dinara opened the door of Viper the same time as I turned off my engine of my car, which I’d positioned right beside hers. She barely glanced my way and instead rushed into the darkness toward the back of her car.

I grinned, realizing why, which reminded me of my own problem. After I’d relieved myself in the darkness as well, I leaned against the hood of my car and stared up at the starry sky. This far outside of civilization the stars always shone brightly. Something I missed whenever I was in Las Vegas. I’d always considered myself a city person until I started living long stretches of time in camp in the middle of nowhere.

Dinara advanced on me and propped up her hip against the hood. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

I made an innocent face but she narrowed her eyes. Grinning, I said, “I prefer your company to the company of the two assholes in the lead. And with you, I won’t have to sleep with one eye open to make sure no one manipulates my car.”

Dinara scoffed. “Who says I won’t try to cut through your brake cable? Maybe I’ll even stab you when you’re asleep. I’m Russian, remember?”

Hard to forget. Dinara’s looks had something exotic, especially her high cheekbones. “I’ll take my chances with you.”

Dinara rubbed her arms. She was only in a tank top and those skimpy jean shorts. I wanted nothing more than to run my palms over her smooth legs peeking out of them.“I didn’t pack any food. I don’t suppose we can order takeaway out here, right?”

“I come prepared,” I said with a chuckle and opened my trunk where I stowed a gas stove and a couple of cans with chili, cream of mushrooms soup, and mac and cheese. “Don’t expect too much though.”

Dinara scanned my selection. “I’ve never had mac and cheese before.”

I gave her a disbelieving look. “How can you live in the States without trying it?”

“Our cook is Russian. She cooks recipes from my father’s home, and I didn’t really eat dinner with American families. We stayed among our own.”

That sounded familiar. My

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