“Feel?”
“Do you feel alive yet?”
“No.”
She ignored me and faced the fountains below.
“I wondered what would happen if I jumped,” she stated matter-of-factly, but I could tell she didn’t care if I answered her. She was contemplating.
“You’re insane,” I told her.
“I know,” she admitted, lifting a Cheshire grin my direction.
She faced the wind and screamed, making my adrenaline spike further than it already was.
“You’re burning my buzz,” I told her.
She turned to me but it was too quick a reaction for her drunk body, and she stumbled. She began to fall forward but did nothing to stop herself. Instead, she closed her eyes as if she sat at the top of a roller coaster, ready to drop.
I tossed her back and she fell on top of the chaise, unharmed.
But I lost my footing. My arms wound around, as if that could balance me. This is it, I thought. Poor mom. Poor Bridge.
My feet slipped from underneath me and I began the fall but at the last second, Piper pulled hard at my arm, drawing me back toward the villa decking. It wasn’t far enough and I caught the middle of the balcony solidly on my side.
My left arm dropped to my side, but I kept my right hand on the growing bruise. Oh my God, I thought. I could have died. I lifted trembling hands and ran them through my hair then down my face. I stared at my reflection, wondering if I kept it up if my poor mother would have to bury me in the family mausoleum before I even finished college.
I entered the shower and sat at the tiled seat, letting the steam swarm around me, hoping it would hide me away forever. My heart beat erratically in my chest, thinking back on what I’d barely survived. My skin blazed in anger thinking on the redhead, thinking on her whispers, her gentle coaxing. She was so convincing, so alluring, so persuasive.
“That one,” she said, pointing at the Bugatti.
My personal steward, a gentleman named Lawson, approached us as we lingered near the Bugatti. I took a deep breath to clear my head of the alcohol and ecstasy, hoping I could pull off the rental without a hitch.
“The Bugatti, sir?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you, Lawson.”
“Just sign here, sir,” he said, offering me the clipboard and the licensing agreement I signed every time I came here.
I took the board and pen and tried to steady my hand, but I wasn’t very convincing.
“Everything all right, sir?” Lawson asked, his brows furrowed.
“Of course,” I said, smiling. “Just tired, I guess. I’ll take it until Monday, Lawson.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, studying me for a moment longer, then taking the board from my hand.
He turned and walked behind a wall to wherever they kept their keys. Piper ran her hands down the side of the car with a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes.
“So pretty,” she whispered.
I placed my hands in my front pockets and leaned against the exterior. “It’s a Bugatti, Piper,” I told the wall.
She stopped and stood, narrowed her brows at me. “I know that!”
I sighed. “Calm down.”
She obeyed. “Can I drive it?”
“No.”
She walked the entire perimeter of the car running her hands along its length, coveting every inch. Pathetic, I thought.
“Your keys, Mister Blackwell,” Lawson said, appearing out of nowhere. He handed me the keys and I opened the door for Piper before getting into the driver’s side.
Lawson slid open the large glass accordion doors to allow me through. I placed the key in the ignition, then pressed the start button just underneath the stick shift. The engine rumbled low, but inside the cabin, the Bugatti had the distinct sound of being in a wind tunnel. The engine was that powerful. She purred so smoothly, I imagined it similar to laying on the belly of a content lion. She was beautiful.
I tentatively drove her out and onto the street. I could feel Lawson’s eyes on me. He would never dare question me further than he had, but I think he knew something was wrong. If he didn’t then, he definitely did later.
I shook my head, unable to remember anymore. “What happened?” I asked the thick, humid air in front of me. I searched and searched but couldn’t remember...but it felt like I should.
I stood, desperately trying to remember, and began to wash my hair, feeling overwhelmed, feeling like it was imperative I remembered what happened next.
I began to rinse and looked below toward my feet. The water ran red. What in the hell?
“Faster!” she yelled, and I felt powerless but to obey.
I punched the gas, earning me a fiendish, almost inhuman grin in return. She removed her belt and leaned into my neck, breathing me in deeply, making the hair there stand on end. She traced her red lacquered nails along the goosebumps there before running her tongue along the length. My eyes rolled back into my head.
I felt the car pull a little to the left and I whipped my head up then righted her despite my intoxicated, swimming head. Whoa, I thought. I turned to tell her to put her belt back on but was struck mute, distracted by her sliding onto my lap and threading her fingers around the back of my neck.
“What are you doing?” I smiled into her mouth, muddled by a combination of the liquor, the ecstasy and how unbelievably sexy she was.
Every single touch from her felt indescribable. She ran her fingers through my hair and I shuddered at the enlightened sensation. She breathed on my neck and I felt the muscles in my stomach tighten. She crushed a grip of hair at the back of my head in her hand and pulled down before kissing me.