Savannah

"You sure this is gonna work?" I asked Roman, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

"Positive," he said without hesitation. "Get in."

The way he said it, firm and unyielding, sent a shiver down my spine. I obeyed, sliding into the passenger seat. He closed the door behind me with a solid thud before walking around and getting in on his side.

Heat flushed up my cheeks the moment my gaze drifted to the backseat. The lush leather practically whispered to me, dragging me back to that night. My body instinctively remembered the intensity of our last encounter here—the way he’d dominated the space, his hands grounding me while the windows fogged under the heat of our shared breaths. My skin prickled with a phantom touch,remembering every reckless, sinful sound that had echoed in this very car.

I shouldn't have looked at him then, but I did. Roman sat there so casually, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily against his thigh. And damn him, the memory of that night—of the way he watched me unravel with that smug, devastating grin—made my pulse skyrocket. My breath hitched as I recalled the way his mouth had claimed me, over and over, until I was nothing but a mess of needs and sighs.

My fingers twitched at my side, aching with the memory of pressing against the glass. Oh dear God.

And Roman? The little smirk pulling at his lips told me everything I needed to know—he remembered it all, too.

"You are one naughty girl, Savannah," he murmured, his chuckle low and deep.

Heat shot down my spine. I turned sharply toward the window, pretending to study the reflection in the glass, though all I really saw was the ghost of our past recklessness. "Shut up," I muttered, though my body betrayed me, thrumming with a sudden, sharp want.

Instead of feeding his ego, I forced myself to change the subject. "Are you sure it's going to be utterly destroyed and irredeemable?"

The thought of that awful video still made my stomach clench. I wanted it gone—obliterated. No chance of anyone ever finding it. And so here we were, sitting in his car, the phone waiting like a corpse in the driveway, Roman promising to finish the job.

"Of course," he said smoothly, starting the car. "Watch this."

The engine roared to life, vibrating under me, and for a second the low growl of the machine felt like Roman’s voice in my ear—the sound that always made me lose control. He threw the car in reverse. A loud crunch echoed as the tires rolled over the phone. My heart jumped.

Then he went forward. Another satisfying smash. "See? That wasn't so hard." He kept repeating the motion, going back and forth, grinding the device into the asphalt until it was nothing but dust.

"Alright, I think it's destroyed now," I said, watching through the windshield.

"Yeah," he drawled, "but one more time... just to be certain." He rolled back again with exaggerated ease.

I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. "Why do I get the feeling you're deriving pleasure from this?"

He only chuckled, killing the engine. "C'mon. Let's go see."

We stepped out. The phone was no longer a phone. It was just a mangled pile of glass shards and metal fragments. My chest loosened.

"It's destroyed now," he said, his voice softer, gentler. "So you don't have to worry anymore."

I stared at the crushed remains, emotions clogging my throat. Relief, gratitude, and the lingering sting of shame. Before I could think too hard, I spun and launched myself at him. He caught me instantly, his arms locking around me, grounding me in the safety of his chest.

"Thank you," I whispered, my cheek pressed against him.

"You're welcome." His palm smoothed slow circles over my back. Then his voice dropped, turning dark and conspiratorial. "I've got one more thing to show you."

I pulled back, blinking up at him. "What's that?"

His smile tilted into something dangerous. He inclined his head toward the car. "Get in the backseat and you'll find out."

My pulse leapt. My core tightened. Heat pooled low in my belly just hearing those words, given the memories tied to that seat. I bit my lip. "Roman?"

"Don't you want to find out?" he asked, his smirk widening.

"I know what you're trying to do."

"And it's working, isn't it?"

God, it was. I glanced around anxiously at the early dawn light. The house was still. "What if someone sees us?"

"Oh, you'd want them to see this one, love," he said, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel.

A shiver rippled through me. He was at the door before I could blink, holding it open like a devil coaxing me into temptation.

"Come on, Sav," he murmured. "You know you want it."

I slipped past him into the backseat, my body trembling with a mix of nerves and arousal. "Don't take too long," I whispered.

"Don't scream too loud," he countered with a wicked promise.

I crawled onto the leather, my palms pressing into the cool surface. He slid in behind me, his presence a warm, overwhelming force that made the small space feel electric.

"Close your eyes," he commanded.

I obeyed instantly, my heart hammering. A second later: "Open them."

I blinked. A small velvet box sat on the console in front of me. My body froze. "What is this?"

He was beside me now, sliding the box across the leather. "Open it."

My fingers trembled as I flipped open the lid. And I screamed. Loud.

Not a scared scream—a shocked, disbelieving one. Nestled on black satin was a gleaming crystal fob,shimmering like a jewel.

"Oh my God," I gasped, clutching the box. My eyes snapped to his. "No. Roman. No, you didn't. Tell me you didn't."

His smirk was lethal. "An Aston Martin Vantage," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "It's yours."

I laughed and sobbed at the same time. "You're insane! I told you last night—half-jokingly—I can't believe you actually bought it!"

"I wanted you to have it," he murmured, leaning closer until he swallowed my world. "To own it. To command it."

"I don't deserve this, Roman. I was testing you... you weren't supposed to..."

"I don't care," he said, his thumb brushing over mine. "You wanted it. That's enough for me."

Tears pricked my eyes. "Roman, this is too much."

His smirk softened into something more intimate. He took the box from my hands and set it aside,leaning in until I could taste his breath. "The car is nothing. You're everything. But I do like the thought of you behind the wheel... all that power trembling under your hands." His thumb traced a slow,burning circle on my thigh. "Handle it the way you'd handle me—fast, tight, and with just the right amount of recklessness."

My pulse spiked. My lips parted on a shaky laugh. "Thank you."

"I like the thought of you with that kind of power," he whispered, his hand suddenly gripping my jaw."And I'm satisfied knowing you'll always remember exactly who put that power between your thighs."

A moan slipped past my lips. God help me... I wanted it all. The car, the power, and most of all, the man who was currently wrecking my every defense.