Page 76 of Dressed to Kill
"Viper ACR Extreme," I said, walking around her with my hands in my pockets. "Meanest fucking car they ever built. Six forty-five horses, stick shift, no computers between your foot and the back wheels. You drive her wrong, she'll kill you. You drive her right, she'll do anything you want."
"Very Aleksi coded, she is." He crouched at the rear wing. "Tell me about her."
I crouched next to him.
"Wing's for downforce. Holds her to the road in the corners. That little fucker at the front splits the air, pushes it over her instead of under, keeps her from lifting." I ran my hand along the underside of the wing because I couldn't help myself. "Every piece of her is doing something. There's nothing on this carthat's there for looks, and yet she's a sexy piece of work if ever there was one."
"Ye do love a sexy fixer upper, it seems."
I looked over at him and wondered if he was trying to bait me on purpose into saying the thing we'd been dancing around for days. It didn't matter. I couldn't take the bait either way. Instead, I stood up and tossed him the keys. "Go on. Let's take her for a spin."
"I'm no racecar driver, Aleksi."
"Can you drive stick?"
"Course I can."
"Then you'll figure her out. Get in the car."
"Aleksi—"
"Fin." I held his eyes. "Get in the fucking car."
He got in the fucking car.
I went round to the passenger side and folded myself in. I'd never sat in the passenger seat of the Viper. Carl had sat in it once at delivery, two years back, for about ninety seconds while I drove her off the trailer, and that was the only ass that had ever been in this seat besides mine. The bucket sat me low and the harness points came up over my shoulders.
Fin had both hands on the wheel and was looking at the dash bright eyed and confused.
"Where's the…" He gestured.
"Ignition's the red button. The red one."
"Aye, no, I see it. It just seems like a button that ought to launch a missile, not start a car." He pressed it.
She woke up with a low growl. The V10 came alive with a sound that made my insides warm and my dick twitch. Fin flinched and I laughed at him.
"Christ on the cross."
"Clutch is heavy," I warned. "Don't ride it. Either you're on it or you're off it."
"Aleksi, ye're making me nervous."
"Good. Be nervous. She doesn't like cocky."
He gave me a worried look. "Have ye met me? Cocky is my middle name."
He worked the clutch in and out a few times, feeling for the bite, and his face went through about four expressions in three seconds, the last of which was the one I'd been waiting for — the small mean smile that meant Fin had decided he was going to do something I was going to regret.
"Fin."
"Aye."
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Whatever you're about to do."
