Just Drive

by Devyn Sinclair

Grayson de Clare, Team Principal of the Paragon Formula 1 Team, was hot. Smoking hot. I was a professional and was going to act like it, but damn the man was attractive. The Alpha in him practically dripped through the screen. Not to mention he was dressed my favorite way. A crisp white team shirt with all the sponsor logos. But it wasn’t the shirt that made my mouth water. It was that he had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off forearms that could have been in a watch ad. Or a perfume ad. Or porn.

And then none of that mattered, because I was enveloped in a scent so good it made me dizzy. Citrus hit me first. Not just citrus. Lime. Lime laced with sweetness. Traces of sugar and warmth that layered beneath the sharpness of

the fruit. Another wave of it had my knees wobbling. Holy shit. This was euphoria.

Yeah, no kidding. I knew the feeling. My new Team Principal was my scent match. Fuck.

that. I didn’t know that she smelled like heaven incarnate. The sticky, warm sweetness of caramel shot through with the bright notes of pineapple. Tasting that scent became my only priority in life. Without knowing how it played on my tongue, I’d never be able to survive. Fuck. FUCK. One breath and she’d branded herself on my soul. She smelled like she was mine.

I hoped she would be my lover. Because it took about one minute for her to be my everything.

“How will you deal with it if you go into heat?” I locked eyes with the man. “I’ll answer that question if I see you ask all the Alpha drivers how they’ll deal with a potential rut.”

Some kind of berry I couldn’t place. Light but sweet with layers I wanted to pull apart and examine. Rich, dark incense, blended with cedar. The kind when you stepped into a sauna or opened a handmade wooden chest. Smooth and easy and so many sparkling elements of scent I couldn’t trace them all.

But Elias Coleville didn’t look like royalty. He looked like the bad boy you might do bad things for. Blond hair, brown eyes, and dimples that made my heart skip a beat.

“Turn your brain off, love. Let us take it from here.”

This Grayson wasn’t the Team Principal I knew who was measured and polite. There was nothing fucking polite about the way he looked down at me, and nothing measured about the way he grabbed my chin with two fingers.

I am the one taking your pretty mouth. I am the one who chooses how much you take and how much you can breathe. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to come down your throat, paint your tongue, or spill myself all over your face, but that decision is mine too. Do you understand?”