At Full Sprint (A BBW Shifter Romance) (Last of the Shapeshifters) by A.E. Grace Read Free Book Online

alert, trying to stay prepared for any surprise. She didn’t really think she could stay a step ahead of him – and it occurred to her that it was strange that she thought she had to – but she would be happy with at least not being left in his wake.
    Getting up from the sofa, she looked once again at Miles as he took the steps up to the main entrance two at a time. His trousers hugged his tight bum… He stopped at the top of the steps just shy of the heavy wooden door, and turned. “Well, come on!” he urged, smiling at her. It was a bright smile, and a bit like walking out of a dimly lit shopping mall into sunlight, she was momentarily mesmerized by it.
    What the hell was he so cheerful about this early in the morning?
    Circe took the steps one at a time. She certainly lacked his enthusiasm, and covered her mouth as a wide yawn caught her mid-step. Thanking Miles quietly as he held the door open for her, she stepped outside, and wrapped her fingers around either elbow. It was chilly, and the muted crunching of the gravel underfoot paired with the thick smell in the air told her it had probably been drizzling not too long ago.
    “Wait here,” he said, and he walked off toward the hotel’s car park. Minutes later, Circe heard the deep rumble of an engine, and a sports car pulled to a stop in front of her, with Miles at the wheel. He climbed out, walked around to her side, and opened the door for her.
    “Wait a minute,” Circe said, doing a double take and blinking rapidly. “This is a Veyron.”
    “It is,” he confirmed.
    “You own a Veyron?”
    He looked at her, as though surprised by the question. “Of course I do, Ms. Cole.”
    “You can call me Circe,” she chirped as she climbed into the snug passenger seat of the world’s most expensive sports car. It was a little tight-fitting, but any discomfort that it gave her was more than made up for by the mere fact that she was about to zoom off along a scenic coastal road, seated next to her charge, Cheat Cohen, in the most expensive car that money could buy.
    And then she’d get to write about it afterward! It seemed altogether unreal.
    “I thought we’d stop off in Geelong for a quick breakfast, before driving straight through to Apollo Bay.” He handed her a roughly folded roadmap, and she could see he’d circled the two locations. She also took in the handwritten notes in the margins, scrawled in his surprisingly elegant script. “Geelong’s a big city, but Apollo Bay is just a small town,” he said. “It’s much nicer at the latter.”
    “Sounds good,” she told him. “How far will we drive today?”
    “To Port Campbell, to see the Twelve Apostles.”
    Circe nodded. She had read about the Twelve Apostles on the flight over to Melbourne. They were a series of jagged limestone stacks off the shore, each one easily as large as a fifteen-story building. Eroded by the tumultuous ocean over time, they were separate from the actual coastline, and looked a bit like crooked spires or pleated-rock limbs growing out of the sea. A breathtaking sight, by all accounts.
    “Great,” she told him. “I was planning on going there myself.”
    He put the car into gear, and she instantly felt the tremble beneath her bum, like a restrained energy that just longed to be set free.
    “Feel that?” he asked, looking at her.
    “Yeah.”
    “The Veyron is a mid-engine car, so you get the vibrations right up in your ass. It’s actually quite an interesting sensation.”
    Circe didn’t know whether to return his juvenile smirk or ignore it altogether. “You know you’re on the record, right?”
    “Sure.” He pressed down on the accelerator, one hand casually on the wheel. She heard the engine then, its baritone growl accompanied by walls of seething bass. He met eyes with her, and the comfortable veneer they had just established was pierced by awkwardness. She didn’t know if there was a connection between them, if he was just teasing her, or if she was just