Off the Grid (Full Throttle, #1)

by K. Bromberg

“You have to use my first and last name. That is if you’re mad at me. If not, Riggs will do just fine.” He grins and holds his hands out—which of course sets off a chain reaction of muscles moving and tightening in his chest. “So where do you want me?” In me. On me. Making that dream of mine become a cold, hard reality.

“I’m here because one”—he holds a finger up—“I’m not interested and two”—another exaggerated motion of two fingers out—“you didn’t want to be there and I didn’t want you to be alone . . . so?” He shrugs like what he just said is nothing. He just rocked the world beneath my feet.

“I can’t decide if I’m a shower and not a grower or a grower even with all this already showing. There’s been much debate about it.”

“When you’re standing naked in my living room, I didn’t really have a choice.” “You’re supposed to say, it’s not like I could miss it. I mean, the least you could do is give the ego a little stroke.” “I think you’ve got that handled all on your own.”

“Maybe you proved something to me last night.” “Like?” “Like I can trust you.”

“If a man has to prove why you can’t wear what you want, he’s not the type of man you should be wasting your time, let alone a thought on.”

showed me that Brandon LeCroix is the exception, not the rule.

“You’ve seen the goods, Cami. You like the goods. Go forth and finally fuck the goods.”

“Oh. So you want me as a driver and as a prostitute.” He’s fighting his smile. I’m making a disaster of this.

“There are two things I want, Cami. The one you mentioned—keeping a ride in F1—but I can do that myself.” “The other?” My nerves skitter through every part of me. I need to leave. I can’t— “Camilla. Look at me.” He waits for my eyes to flutter up to his, and the serious expression in his eyes shocks me. “You. You’re the other thing I want.”

“Riggs . . . a mission? What?” “Yep. How many orgasms can I give Camilla?”

“In fact, those little hearts you’re supposed to color on the calendar because you’re excited to see me have now been officially changed to represent orgasms. The question is, how many hearts can you fit on one of those tiny squares?” He grins, clearly proud of himself for this idea. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“I mean, the last thing I want to do is prevent you from completing your mission.”

And with that confidence comes a desire to get better at other things. She wants to learn how to suck cock better? I mean . . . it’s a hardship, but sure, she can practice on me. Not a problem.

How did I think she wasn’t my type? Baggy clothes. Some clothes. No clothes. The woman is downright sexy as sin. “Please tell me you’re not asking me to fuck you in the paddock?”

“No. Not here. I cannot have sex with you here. I’m partially your boss. Your—” “I know what you are. And for the record, that makes it even more tempting. Even fucking hotter.” I groan at the thought. “You are seriously crazy.”

Take control. Grab me by the cock and lead me around by it.” “More like lead it right into my mouth,” she murmurs, her cheeks flushing and eyes darkening. My grin is immediate. My cock hardens. “You think I’d complain about that?” “What I think is that you’re out of your mind.” “You’re the one who offered to pay me for sex.” “You’re the one who gave it to me for free.”

“You trust me with your body, with the broken you think you are but really aren’t, but you won’t trust me with your thoughts,”

“We’re all reckless. We must be to be in this sport or we wouldn’t be any good, so stop using it as a negative. As a means to try and shame a man who was larger than life in almost every aspect that I can remember. There was so, so much more to him.”

“Elise, a man can tear you down quicker than shit, but only you can put the work in to feel better about yourself.”

“Let’s stop playing this game, Gasket.” “What game?” “The no-strings one. I’m in love with you. Can’t you see that?

You’re it for me, Camilla. The kind of it I never expected, I never wanted. I thought love was for weak men and saps. I’ll be the first to admit I was wrong. Hands down. Head over heels wrong. You drive me crazy but fuck if that madness doesn’t make me love you more. You challenge me. You make me the kind of man who would give up his dream because it’s the right thing to do. And that’s fucking saying a lot. Because I would. I did. And I’d do it a million times over if that’s what you needed, because I’m in fucking love with you.”

“It’s the nickname, isn’t it, Gasket?” he asks. “You hate it so much that you can’t love me back.” I cough over my sob and wipe away the tears on my cheeks. “No. It’s perfect. Just like you are.”

“We’re a fucked-up pair, but my broken makes you whole. Your broken has made me whole. Now it’s time to let those breaks heal. For the scars to fade like nothing ever was.”

“I think I’m going to have to buy a new calendar.” “A lifetime supply coming right up,” he teases, and I laugh as I brush my lips to his. “I’ll gladly take it.” “Good.”

“Okay. You’re ready. So here goes. Am I the Arsehole for falling in love with this incredibly intelligent, beautiful, kind woman and for planning our engagement party before I even ask her to marry me because I’m that desperate for her to be my wife?”