“Hmm, there is, but Costa is so much better.”

  “What is Costa?” I’ve never heard of Costa. I’m assuming it’s a coffee house.

  “Coffee.” She stands waiting for me to join her. “Come on; I’ll educate you.”

  Wrapping her fingers around mine, she pulls me to the exit of the hotel and out onto the busy street.

  “Is it always this busy?” I ask Jordan as we walk through the city.

  “Pretty much, yeah. You’re American, and you think this is busy?”

  “I’m from California, not New York. I mean, it’s busy, don’t get me wrong, but not as busy as this.”

  “Ahhh, that place is on my bucket list. I’d love to get out of this shitty country and go there.”

  “It’s weird you say that because so many Americans would love to be in your place and live in London. The history of the place is amazing.”

  “I suppose so, but you always want more than what you’ve got.” Her theory stops me dead in my tracks because she’s got it spot on.

  “Are you okay?” She turns to see why I’ve stopped. “Finn?”

  “You and me, are so alike.” Smirking I take her hand, “Come on, take me for coffee.”

  “Alright, bossy.” Rolling her eyes, she faces forwards, and we walk along the sidewalk comfortably side by side.

  I’ll never get the hang of English money or their service. What the fuck? Doesn’t anywhere wait tables here? Before I even get the chance to get my head around that, the guy behind the counter tells me how much. Cupping the change in my hand, I pull it from my pocket and try to count it out for him, but luckily, he can see I’m struggling and does it for me. Once the coffees are paid for, I take the tray from the counter and join Jordan at our table.

  “Doesn’t anyone wait tables in this country?”

  “It depends on where you go, really.”

  I pass her Cappuccino over and set my Americano in front of me.

  “Honestly? Back home, no matter what place you go to, you have a server.”

  “But that’s where the two countries are different…. don’t waiting staff like live off their tips?”

  “Yeah, of course. Like forty percent of their salary is made up of tips.”

  “See, we just have salaries, and of course the odd tip is nice in my job, but we don’t depend on them. It’s a bonus, I suppose.”

  “I think you’d love it in America.” I make no secret of how much I love my country, ever. “The weather, the hospitality, we treat our visitors right.”

  “You do, huh?” A smirk forms on her mouth. “Well, let's not think about fleeing the country just yet, I mean we haven’t long met…”

  “Hell no. I have a championship to win first; then, then maybe we can go.”

  She sits back in her chair, smiling and looking me over. I like her eyes on me, I feel like they strip me bare and I’m transparent just for her to see.

  “Who says I’ll see you again after today?”

  Leaning over the table towards her, I hook a knuckle beneath her chin, bringing her closer.

  “Baby, I’m gonna make sure of that.”

  Running her tongue over her lips, she moves away and brings her cup to her lips.

  I have no idea what’s different about Jordan, and I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t see me as some kind of celebrity. I knew that from the first time I met her when she didn’t recognize me. It’s good to be able to talk to a girl without them thinking about what they can get from it all. That’s pretty much the reason I don’t date; it’s easier to fuck them and kick them out. That doesn’t make me a heartless bastard; it makes me sensible with all the dirty whores that hang around the track back home.

  “Have you always wanted to race?” Jordan breaks me out of my bubble, making me turn my attention back to her.

  “For as long as I can remember.” A chuckle breaks free as my memories of my dad enter my mind. “My dad was a racer, and I always wanted to be him. He was the best.”

  “Actually, I recall Damon saying something along those lines, by saying, you learnt from the best.” She smiles, “Are you like him?”

  “In every way. I wish he were here to see me do this now. British Superbike was the one championship he wanted to compete in. He always promised my mom that he would bring her to England.”

  Dropping my head, I focus on my lap while taking a deep breath from the talk of my dad.

  “Finn?”

  Finding her eyes, I tell my truth. “My dad died a couple of years ago - on the track.”

  “Oh, Finn, I’m so sorry.” Reaching across the table, her palm settles on my forearm, soothing me as it moves up and down.

  “You really don’t know anything about me, do you?” I ask her.

  I’m a little bewildered, not that I’m that good, but I do have a pretty big following. Slowly shaking her head from side to side, her smile causes me to grin. Bringing me out of melancholy state from thinking about my dad’s death.

  “I’m going to have fun educating you this time. Come on….”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Anywhere.”

  She takes the hand I’m holding out for her, and I pull her up out of the seat and head out. Throwing my arm around her shoulders, I bring her in close to me, dipping my head until my lips are situated against the shell of her ear.

  “For the record, Starbucks is much better.”

  Her shocked face turns up to mine.

  “That’s sacrilege, Mr. Big Shot.”

  “Let’s go grab a movie.” I laugh.

  Keeping her at my side, she flags a black cab and waits for it to stop at the sidewalk, to take us to the movie theater.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jordan

  We walk from the cinema arm in arm. When we got here, it was a toss-up between, Isn’t It Romantic or The Amityville Murders. I didn’t want to watch that, not a chance. I don’t mind thrillers or suspense; I can watch a horror under duress usually, but when I do, it’s from behind a cushion although I did want to see Happy Death Day Two. Me and Maria watched this when the first one came out and to be honest; it’s more of a comedy than a horror. Finn didn’t want to be seen watching a rom-com either though, so Happy Death Day Two it was. In all fairness, it was a bit silly, but I enjoyed it, and if Finn is being honest, so did he.

  “It was awful,” Finn complains.

  “No, it wasn’t, it was good. Just admit it.”

  “No way.”

  Hooking his arm around my neck, he guides me from the cinema and to the nearest restaurant. Which is just over the road on a huge complex.

  “What would you like to eat?”

  He stops us and looks up at the different restaurants, before fixing his sights on me for a second. His dark eyes hold me captive as his thumb across my lips.

  “I’ve waited all day for this…”

  I don’t have a chance to play dumb; his lips are pressed to mine, locked in a closed mouth kiss. I work my arm around his back and fist his t-shirt. Licking along the seam of my lips, I give him entry. Immediately our tongues tangle, his lips covering mine, and he kisses the life from me. When he’s done, I’m breathless, and I pretty much lose the use of my legs. It’s a good job Finn’s arm is around me and holding me up.

  “Now that was worth waiting for.”

  “You can say that again,” I whisper to myself, hoping he didn’t hear me. My phone ringing from my bag breaks me out of the hypnotic state he’s left me in.

  “Do you want to get that?” Finn asks.

  “Nah. Come on how about Italian? I don’t want fast food.”

  “Fine with me.”

  The waiter in Bella Italia finds us a table as soon as we walk through the door, seating us in a corner by the window, on a small table. Once the waiter has left us after taking our drinks order, Finn takes my hand.

  “I’ve enjoyed today… it’s not often I get times like this. I’m always on the track practising.”

  “It must be pretty intense, always practising.”

  “No, it makes me better. You should come to the track one day; I’d love you to come and watch a race.”

  “Maybe, if I can get time off?”

  “You do realise I’m a persistent man, yeah?”

  “I’m kind of getting that message, yes.”

  “Then I expect to see you there. I’ll get some tickets to the next meeting. It’s a full weekend, we start on a Friday, ending with the main race on a Sunday.”

  “Jesus, I knew you had qualifying races and then raced on a Sunday, but a Friday as well?”

  “Yeah, we do some laps to get the bikes ready.”

  “When’s the next one?”

  “Oh, it’s not for about two weeks yet. I’ll find out where we are and let you know.”

  The waiter comes back interrupting our conversation, and we place our orders.

  All day, the conversation flowed between us, we’ve smiled together, we’ve laughed. I’m so glad he didn’t let me have a choice about today, because I’d never have known the real Finlay Cooper.

  When I spoke to Damon about him, he was the star-struck fan. He could tell me his stats, no problem, but I knew nothing about him: Finn Cooper, the person, the man behind the helmet and leathers.

  We spend the rest of the night having a few drinks in and out of bars until I’m beginning to feel a little tipsy from too many gins.

  “We better get you home.” Finn laughs.

  He orders a taxi from the app on my phone once I’ve unlocked it for him and we go to wait outside to get some fresh air.

  “I’ve had such a good time today.” Gripping his T-shirt, I pull him against me.

  “I’m glad.”

  Tucking the hair behind my ear, Finn Cooper has a sobering effect on me and is the only thing on my mind. Taking the initiative, I put my lips softly against his. Walking me backward and closing the small gap between my back and the wall, he leans me up against it. Framing my face with his hands, he kisses me. Everything else fades away, and all I can think about is him. He only stops when a car pulls up to the kerb.

  “Come on gorgeous, let’s get you home.” Taking my hand, he leads me to the waiting car, and I tell the driver where to go.

  Pulling up outside of my house, Finn doesn’t move right away, confusing me.

  “Are you coming in?”

  “Would you like me too?”

  “Yeah, I would.” He takes a note from his pocket and hands it to the driver, telling him to keep the change.

  “Finn, you’ve just given him a twenty.” Even in my tipsy state, I can tell the colour of notes anywhere. “You’ve given him a ten-pound tip.”

  Circling my shoulders with his arm, he shrugs.

  “That must be why he was smiling.”

  Shaking my head at his nonchalance, I get out my keys and let us in.

  “Do you want a drink?” I ask closing the door behind us and shutting out the outside world.

  Shaking his head in answer, he prowls towards me until I’m back in his arms.

  “I want you.” Finn bounces his eyebrows up and down. “What are your thoughts of sex on the first date, because I really need to be inside you.”

  “I’m not totally against it,” I breathe, our gazes locked on one another, “But of course, only if you’re going to respect me in the morning…”

  “That’s a guarantee, babe.” he winks.

  Before I can say anything else, his mouth is on mine, and he’s lifting me up into his arms. I wrap my legs around him, locking my ankles and he carries me over to the couch.

  There’s nothing slow and satisfying about this; it’s fast and sexy. Finn paws at my clothes, not able to get them off quick enough. I do the same, tearing at the button on his jeans and tug at them to get them off. His arms go over his head and yanks at his t-shirt, tugging it over his head. His natural defined pecs and six-pack are making me salivate; I can’t help but place small pecks on his warm skin.

  Looking up with a salacious grin and scraping my teeth over my lips, he brings me back up. Then he pushes me back down into the couch and covers me with the length of his body. Dipping his head, he sucks one of my erect, bra covered nipples, making the sensation that much more intense. Pushing back up to his knees, he takes the condom from his jeans and rolls it on, before making sure I’m ready for him. His fingers take me to heights I’ve never reached before, but I’m not able to let my orgasm go right away. Instead, he pulls out and tugs me towards him with his hands on my hips, impaling me.

  The tip of his cock feels like it’s hitting my cervix, but all I can think about is him. He powers into me, bringing my orgasm back almost instantly, but he doesn’t slow down for a second. Instead, he drives into me until I can’t help but to let go of my impending orgasm, and I know it’s going to crucify me. I don’t have time to think about it now though, because his cock gets harder, completely filling me until he’s letting go of his own release.

  Collapsing onto me, I cradle his head in my arms, while we both get our breath back.

  Lifting his head smiling, he leans forward kissing me.

  By the time we fall into bed that night, I’m absolutely exhausted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Finn

  “Again, Finn. That time was shit.” Dave shouts in his mouthpiece to me from the garages as I pull in. Pushing my helmet off, I lay it on my seat.

  “What you do mean shit? Are you kidding?”

  “No. Again,” Dave shouts again, not putting up with my bullshit.

  “Come on, then Cooper, I’ll race you.” Caleb Anderson shouts from behind me.

  I haven’t really spoken to this guy much, but for some reason, he doesn’t like me. He’s not exactly backward in showing me that.

  “Come on, I’ll show you what some real competition looks like.”

  Agreeing to his challenge, I nod and slide my helmet back on and make my way back down to the track. Anderson joins me at the starting line, Braydon stands between us holding up a flag. While we rev the engines and warm up the bikes, mines already warm, so I give Anderson a chance for his.

  With his arms above his head, Braydon swipes the flag down to his sides, flagging us off. As soon as we hit the first bend, I’m leading us. Every now and then, I glance behind me to see where he is. He comes close but can’t catch me; once I’m on the straight, he has no chance. I fly down until I hit the next bend. In my mirror, I see Anderson gaining on me, so opening her up a bit more, I take my baby even further - I know she has more.

  Tipping my bike to take the bend, I can see Anderson still gaining on me. He’s too close though, I signal for him to move aside, he doesn’t. Before I know it, I’m skidding across the grass, my bike on her side, and I’m on my back barreling towards the barriers.

  What the fuck.?

  Scrambling up from the ground, I march towards Anderson; he stands tense as I reach him.

  “What the fuck do you think you were doing?” Shoving him backwards with my hands on his chest, he stumbles backwards.

  “Just some gentle competition Cooper, I’m sure you’re used to that…” the bastard smirks at me.

  “You clipped my back wheel, you fucking asshole.”

  “I didn’t touch ya. You shouldn’t have been riding like a fucking lunatic.”

  “Fuck you, and you didn’t?” I fire back, my fists are balled at my side, and all I want to do is knock the fucker out.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Braydon running towards me with the rest of the crew. Bray can see I’m in no mood for this cocksucker and pulls me away from him before I put my fist in his face.

  “That’s it; walk away. American prick.”

  Turning back, I point my finger in his direction.

  “Me and you, Anderson…”

  Braydon continues to pull me away, and my crew gather my bike and take it back to the garages.

  “What were you thinking, Finn? Fuck me, you have to be the bigger man and walk away. We’re the newcomers here, just stop being so fucking hotheaded.”

  “What was I thinking? I think you mean what was he thinking, but that’s fine… When I end up dead on the fucking track because of stupid little stunts like what he’s just done, you’ll remember what you’ve just said.”

  “Finn,” Braydon calls out, but I can’t be dealing with him at the moment.

  Yes, I am hot-headed most of the time, but this wasn’t my fault. I watched my dad die doing what he loved most, because of stupidity and I’m not about to make the same mistake. I storm off the track and straight to the changing room, shoving past Dave on the way.

  Unzipping my leathers, I take them down to my waist, pacing the floor. If I don’t calm down soon, I’ll end up going back out there and knocking the motherfucker out. I take a seat on the bench and rest my head back while I work on my breathing, closing my eyes like I was taught.

  Pulling my phone from my training bag, I pull up Jordan’s number. It’s weird, but she’s the only one I want to talk to right now. It takes her a minute or so to answer, but as soon as I hear the sweet tones of her voice, it calms me almost instantly.

  “Oh, hey. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today.”

  Pausing with the phone to my ear, I take a calming breath.

  “Finn, you there?”

  “I’m here, babe. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Are you okay? You sound weird.”

  “I had a run-in on the track, to be quite honest, I just needed to calm down.”

  “Oh my god, are you alright, are you hurt?”

  “No, I'm good, I promise,” I reassure her, chuckling, “Probably a couple of bruises but nothing serious…. Are you working?”

  “Yeah, but it’s quiet at the moment…”

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  “Oh, okay then. See you in a bit.”

  Clicking the red icon on my screen ending the call, I strip out of my leathers and head for a shower.

 

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