She gripped his hoodie, pulling him in harder, pressing against him. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering traces of the racetrack — the smell of rubber, asphalt, and him.
Her heart pounded as she parted her lips slightly, inviting him in, and Ethan took the invitation.
His tongue teased hers, slow at first, then more demanding.
A quiet whimper escaped her throat before she could stop it, and she felt Ethan smirk against her lips.
'Cocky bastard.'
She didn't let him have the upper hand for long.
Her fingers slid up to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair, and it was his turn to groan softly.
The sound sent a shiver down her spine.
She felt alive.
The same rush she felt when racing — heart-pounding, exhilarating, slightly reckless — was what she felt now.
The kiss deepened, growing more urgent by the second.
Ethan pressed her against the cool tiled wall, his grip tightening like he didn't want to let go, like he needed to feel her closer.
