Hard and Fast (7 page)

“Really?” She sounded a little unnerved.

“No.” He tossed a grin at her.

It was hard to tell in the dark, but he thought she might have blushed. “I didn’t need to announce that, did I?”

“Probably not, but I can appreciate you wanting to make that clear. Anything else I should know?” It was more than likely a bad idea to ask Imogen to list her sexual taboos, because God only knew what would come out of her mouth, but he wanted to reassure her.

“Well, I suppose there are but it occurs to me that normally those likes and dislikes, off-limit areas, and an agreement on a mutual level of kink are revealed in the bedroom together with a combination of hands-on and verbal discovery, not ahead of time in casual conversation.”

He wasn’t sure he had understood a damn word she’d said. He had pretty much lost all his blood from his brain to his erection when Imogen used the word
kink
. “Doesn’t matter, babe. We can forge our own path. You want to talk about it now, I’m on board with that.”

Ty pulled onto his street and opened up the engine a little bit. It would disappoint his neighbors if he didn’t fly into his driveway at sixty miles per hour.

Imogen grabbed the dashboard again and held on. “I don’t think I do want to talk about it.”

Glancing over, he saw she was biting her lip. “What’s the matter?”

“I’ve sucked the spontaneity out of this, and I’m annoyed with myself.”

She did look upset. “No, you haven’t. We can go on in and be totally spontaneous. Like whose shirt will come off first? That’s still a mystery at this point.”

Now she was actually chewing her bottom lip with her teeth, frown lines etching into her forehead as they sat in the idling car in his driveway. “That’s not spontaneity. That’s simply variances of an already established intent.”

Say what? “Speak English, babe.” He gestured to himself with his thumb. “Dumb driver here.”

“You’re not dumb. That’s ludicrous. You’re obviously quite intelligent.”

That made him feel oddly humble and flattered. He thought of himself as fairly street smart, but in no way was he book smart, yet it felt good to hear Imogen say she didn’t see him as a box of rocks. “Well, I can’t balance my bank account, but I do alright, I guess.”

“And the reason you can’t understand me is because I’m not making any sense.”

That seemed fair enough to him, but he wasn’t about to point that out. He had learned enough in his lifetime to know that you didn’t point out to a female that she was making no sense. “We’re here,” he said, turning off the car. “Come inside and let’s see if we can make sense of it together.”

“Okay,” she said, but she still looked worried.

Ty was starting to wonder if this was a bad idea. He was looking at Imogen’s face and seeing tomorrow’s regrets written on it.

She opened her mouth like she was going to speak again, then shut it.

He waited, but she didn’t say anything so he prompted her. “What are you thinking, babe?”

“That I’m keyed up, and you’re going to be disappointed.”

Now he knew this was a bad idea. If Imogen went into sex with that mind-set, she was going to be nervous and inhibited. No matter what he did, it had the potential to wind up awkward and unsatisfying for her.

Damn it. He should have driven faster.

“I can guarantee that I will not be disappointed.” Ty turned and brushed her still-damp hair off her cheek. “I find you fascinating. And I don’t want this to be a one-night stand that leaves you feeling like you can’t even look me in the eye next time we see each other.”

She opened her mouth, but Ty leaned over and gave her a soft kiss to stave off any protests. “So I’m going to get out of the car now, and I will call you tomorrow and hope like hell that you’ll agree to go to dinner with me.”

“You’re going in and I’m supposed to go home?” she asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yep. I don’t want to screw this up, Emma Jean. So I think we need to call it a night right here and pick up where we left off another day.” He saw things going nowhere but south if he tried to get her naked. As nervous and agitated as she looked, she just wasn’t going to enjoy herself.

“I see.”

Ty waited for her to expound on that statement, since Imogen seemed fond of using seventeen words to his one, but she didn’t. She just got out of the passenger side and walked around to his side. The rain had stopped and the glow from his garage lights turned her face a pale pearl white.

“Good night,” she said with a smile that was anything but genuine.

Shit. He knew that look and it wasn’t a good one. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.

“Fine.”

That was it? Ty sat in the car and stared up at her, trying to read her expression. She looked irritated. Maybe even veering toward angry. Determined not to leave it on that note, Ty reached over and pulled out the first book in her bag he could get a grip on. “Can I borrow this?” he asked.

She gave him a funny look.

Ty wondered what the book was, given the incredulous expression on her face. All he could tell was that it was the one with a couple on the front of it, but he couldn’t read the title. Great, it was probably a romance novel. But he had been thinking he would take it, have his assistant order it on audio, then he could discuss the book with her. Show Imogen he could participate at her level, have a decent conversation.

So he just brazened through. “I’ve been wanting to read this,” he drawled.

“Really?” Her voice dripped with doubt.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. Enjoy.”

She actually opened the door then, so he had no choice but to climb out of the car. Ty brushed his legs against hers when he stood up, but she moved backward out of the way. He handed her the car keys and kissed her forehead. “I’ll give it back to you in a couple of days.”

“Sure.”

“Good night.” He gave her a smile, hoping for one in return, but she just blinked up at him behind her glasses.

Ty turned and started up his driveway, envisioning a night spent in the shower with a glob of conditioner and his hand to ease some of the tension he was feeling. It was a poor substitute for Imogen in his bed, but sending her home was the right thing to do. Painful, but necessary. Like a root canal. Definitely the right thing to do.

Her voice came calm and even behind him. “You do realize that in us attempting to avoid post-sex awkwardness all we have achieved is pre-sex awkwardness?”

Or not. Wincing, he stopped and turned, but Imogen was already in the car and slamming the door shut. In another ten seconds she was peeling out of his driveway like a circuit pro, and he was feeling a little deflated in more ways than one.

 

 

“
OH
, my God, I’m sweating like a pig eating soup,” Suzanne said to Imogen as she did a near jog on the treadmill.

Despite her doubts that pigs actually ingested soup, Imogen sympathized. She was sporting wet circles under the armpits of her T-shirt, and she was having serious trouble breathing as she tried to keep up with the pace of her own machine. “I . . . am . . . really out of shape,” she told Suzanne, sucking in air to her oxygen-deprived lungs. “I used to walk all the time living in New York and now I just sit at my desk or in my car.”

“I’ve never been in shape,” Suzanne said. “I’ve just always had naturally good genes so I looked decent even if my lung capacity sucked. But since I turned thirty, it’s all starting to head south, and I don’t mean Florida, honey.”

“I don’t think anything is shifting on me, per se, but I suspect there are small children with greater muscle strength than me.” Imogen tried to ignore the burning in the backs of her legs as she walked. Jogging was completely out of the question. “You know it’s sad to say, but I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the book. It says in order to be date ready for the man of your dreams, you have to exercise, drink water, and have a balanced diet.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to follow those steps. It all sounds silly to me.”

“Yeah, well, that is the point. To determine if it’s possible to follow guidelines in order to meet and marry a driver, or if it is simply left to the vagaries of human beings. Are there truly dos and don’ts in relationships? Or can anyone fall in love and marry for any reason at any time, essentially breaking the rules?” Imogen wheezed and tried to slow down her walking pace. That had been too many words to manage while her body was under severe strain.

“Well, I think there are definitely nos to dating. I mean, you can’t pick your nose when you meet a man and expect that he’ll fall head over heels for you.”

“True.”

“But as for a more rigid set of rules, I don’t know. I’m going to have to read this book—which needs a nickname, by the way. I can’t keep calling it
How to Marry a Race Car Driver in Six Easy Steps
. I think we should just call it the
Man Manual
. Or
Six Steps
.” Suzanne wiped her dewy forehead. “Let me borrow it so I can help you with your thesis. I know a ton of drivers. I can introduce you.”

Imogen sighed. “I can’t let you borrow it. Ty borrowed it from me last night.”

“What?” Suzanne squawked. “Why the hell would he borrow a manual on snagging a man?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think he was doing it to be funny, but I’m not really sure. This was after, uh, he decided we shouldn’t have sex, and I think he was trying to lighten the mood.”

Imogen had lain in bed for two hours staring at her ceiling trying to figure out exactly why Ty had come on so strong, then changed his mind. Had he really been telling the truth that he didn’t want her to feel awkward, or had he lost interest in the face of her prying questions and blanket statements about sex? Either way, it was just mortifying, and despite her best efforts to feel otherwise, she felt rejected. Intellectually, she knew it didn’t matter, that it had been for the best, frankly, because she had been something of a wreck just anticipating how she might disappoint him. She could only imagine how disastrous it would have been if they had actually gotten to the point of removing clothing, but she still couldn’t help but feel, well, rejected.

“Come again?” Suzanne asked, gripping the sides of her treadmill as she stared at Imogen. “What do you mean Ty decided you shouldn’t have sex? What the hell happened? I didn’t even know you were with him last night.”

“Well, he needed a ride after he and Nikki broke up. We were talking and he kissed me and we decided to have sex.” When she said it out loud, it all sounded rather dubious. “Then he drove my car to his place and said we shouldn’t have sex. Then he borrowed the book and I left.” Imogen looked around the gym to make sure no one had heard what she had just said. The gym they were at was a haven for race car drivers, and one of them could be wandering by at any given moment. It was originally why she had chosen it, at Suzanne’s recommendation, but now she was thinking it wasn’t all that wise.

“Wow. That’s weird. Just weird. How was the kiss? Did he suck or something? Maybe he was embarrassed.”

“He didn’t suck.” Not in the slightest. She had been completely prepared to have her mind blown in bed, given what a sampling of his kisses had done to her. “And I don’t really think that he has confidence issues. I just think he realized that I’m not his usual type and that he’s not really attracted to me.”

Which she found more than mildly distressing.

“Oh, that’s horse pucky,” Suzanne said. “If the man wasn’t attracted to you, he wouldn’t have been cramming his tongue down your throat in the first place.”

“I believe it’s universally accepted that men frequently engage in sexual acts with women they do not find attractive. Hence the origin of the alcohol-related one-night stand and the term
beer goggles
.”

“Well, he wasn’t drunk and he’s not a teenager. Not to mention he may have a thing for young and dumb, but Ty is a good man. He would only have sex with a woman if he was attracted to her. I’m sure of it. And if he was certain she was attracted to him.”

Suzanne’s hand shot out and grabbed Imogen’s wrist. “Oh, my Lawd, what if he thought you weren’t attracted to
him
? That would explain why he pulled the plug.”

Imogen was struggling on her machine to find a rhythm, so Suzanne’s unexpected contact caused her to lose her balance. Grabbing the handles of her treadmill, Imogen slowed down her pace and tried to recover. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s possible, but it seems a little unlikely. I think I am just a bit too much of a freak for him.”

Suzanne’s eyebrow lifted. “You’re a freak? Like freaky deaky in bed? Did you tell him that?”

Imogen’s already pink cheeks burned from more than exertion. “No, I’m not a freak in bed! I meant, I’m odd in that I’m nothing like the women he usually dates. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I need to let it go.”

Maybe if she kept telling herself that, it would actually be possible. “I need to focus on my thesis. I’m supposed to be in prime physical condition so I can go hiking and dirt biking and jet skiing, since drivers are inclined to participate in aggressive and physical hobbies. I need to watch my diet, drink lots of water, and educate myself on the history of the sport.”

Just thinking about it made her wonder why this had seemed like a good idea. She was a bookworm, not a dirt biker. She had an innate fear of anything that might result in every bone in her body being broken. And judging by the way she was feeling light-headed and on the verge of severe muscle spasms in her thighs, she was not in prime physical condition by any stretch of the imagination.

“That sounds like a lot of work. It seems to me that a man and a woman should just meet, decide they like each other, and call it good.”

“The point is to increase your odds that he will meet you and actually like you.”