Spin (Boosted Hearts Book 2) by Sherilee Gray

frantically, desperate to get her butt out of his face, when those hands went back to her ass, her bare ass , and he propelled her over the fence—with a hell of a lot more force than was warranted. She squealed, nose-diving into a bushy shrub.
    Her hair was tangled in the branches, but the bush had broken her fall, and she’d managed to land on her feet. She was spitting a leaf out of her mouth when her shoes, gripped in Joe’s hand, clattered against the fence before he hoisted himself over in a single bound like freaking superman.
    He grinned wide at her. “You mooned me.”
    “Don’t say another goddamn word.”
    His hands went to her hips, and he tugged her dress down on a sigh. “Seems a shame to cover it back up.”
    “Give me my shoes.” She snatched them from his hand, brushing her feet clean on the back of Joe’s pants, while ignoring his protests, before sliding them back on. “How’s my hair?”
    “Ah… Well.” He tilted his head to the side. “You have that…sexy, tussled thing going on.”
    Scowling at him, she tried to finger comb it smooth, dragging out leaves and twigs as she went. “You didn’t have to shove me over quite so goddamn hard.”
    His nostrils flared. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He stepped closer and plucked a leaf from her hair. “But your ass was right there, offered up like a gift from the moon Gods, all round and smooth and bitable…”
    She slapped a hand over his mouth. “Stop it.” Her eyes narrowed. “And there’s no such thing as a moon God, dumbass.”
    A grin lifted his delectable mouth. It was wicked and far too damn sexy. “You just keep calling me names because you’re totally into me.” He tweaked her nose.
    “What…are you seven?” She shoved his hand away.
    “I’m into you, too, Darcey.” He winked, which should have been cheesy, but on him, it somehow wasn’t. “Right. Let’s do our thing, sweet cheeks.”
    “Get your hand off my ass.”
    “Oops, sorry. It’s dark.”
    “Not that dark.” She glanced over at him. “I’m starting to see a pattern here.”
    He arched a brow. “What kind of pattern?”
    “Goofy Joe and high-pressure situations.”
    “Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m always this charming.” His hand slid up to her bare back, which was worse. The rough heat of his skin burned into hers. It rattled her. He rattled her. A shiver slid across her shoulders and down to where they touched.
    “Cold?” he murmured.
    “I’m fine.” Not fine. Soooo not fine.
    “You want my jacket?”
    Despite the cool night, she was feeling slightly—okay a lot—overheated. “I’m good.”
    The parking lot was packed, filled with every sports car you could imagine. Not her thing. Despite the fact she drove a shitty Toyota, she liked American cars. Solid, reliable, sexy. “Who’s getting married?”
    “Some politician and the society ‘it’ girl of the moment.”
    “Big age gap?”
    “He’s in his fifties, she’s twenty-four.”
    Darcey snorted. “Figures. This entire parking lot screams midlife crisis.”
    “You don’t like European cars?”
      She screwed up her face. “Tacky.”
    “A two-hundred-thousand-dollar car cannot be tacky.”
    She shrugged. “I beg to differ.” He was standing close, and she did her best to ignore the way his proximity made her heart beat faster. “Okay…well, I guess we should go scope it out.”
    They walked around the lot while music pumped down from the reception room above. There was a balcony, and several people were out enjoying the night. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear their laughter, their voices loud, trying to talk over each other.
    “I fucking knew it.” Joe said low, excited.
    She followed his gaze. Across the lot was a shiny Ferrari. “See, totally tacky.”
    “It’s a thing of beauty.”
    “And cliché. I mean, it’s red. What a surprise. I can just imagine the douche nozzle that drives it. It’s embarrassing, really.”
    They reached the