Free Drive Me Crazy by Jenna Bayley-Burke

her inner thigh and squeezing, hard. She swerved as the translation flashed in her mind. He was having quite the naughty dream. His hand rubbed a lazy circle, his head lolling from side to side.
    That meant he’d been dreaming about her, right? Her eyes widened at what he’d fantasized of her doing, then widened more as panic flashed through her faster than the blue lights flashing in the rear-view mirror.

Chapter Seven
    Blaring sirens pierced through his sleepy haze, coupled with pulsing red and blue lights. By the time Xavier realized this wasn’t a bizarre dream, Jaime had stopped the car on the side of the road, her hands shaking on the steering wheel.
    “Sorry,” she said as she pushed the button to roll down the window and then killed the engine. “The sirens were a bit much.”
    “What happened?” He wiped his eyes, looking for some clue in the darkness. On one side of the road he saw nothing but a cornfield. The other side of the road looked exactly the same.
    “I don’t know.” Jaime checked the side mirror, her entire body quivering. “Do you think we could have a taillight out or something? That would be a safety violation against the rental company, not a traffic violation. I think.”
    He shook his head, not wanting to explain that he owned the car. “Where are we?”
    “Ogallala, Nebraska,” the officer filled in as she leaned towards the window. “How are you feeling tonight, ma’am? In a hurry to get somewhere before morning?”
    “Not really. We’re headed to Oregon.” Jaime cleared her throat, her voice coming out steadier. “What seems to be the problem?”
    “I’ve been following you for a few miles. Your speed has been very erratic and a few times you veered into the other lane.” She flipped open the metal cover of a notepad. “May I see your license and registration, please?”
    Jaime twisted to reach her bag in the back seat. For the first time since he knew her, he started to feel like he was hiding something as he pulled the registration from the glove box and handed it over.
    This trip was about being free and anonymous, without any of the trappings of his status or reputation. He’d avoided telling Jaime, but until he passed the car registration in front of her, he hadn’t felt like he was lying about it.
    “Do you have some ID?” The officer leaned closer to the open window, staring at him. “And maybe a business card that might show why you are in possession of a Marie-Chloe vehicle?”
    “Of course.” He took his wallet from the glove box where he’d stashed it while he slept and gave the officer what she needed. Why did it have to be so damned difficult for a foreign national to buy a car? The bureaucracy of visas made it easier to list the company as co-owner. With a nod, the officer retreated to her car and he braced himself for the barrage of questions that always came when women learned who he was.
    What would Jaime leverage for? She didn’t seem interested in modeling or society invitations, money or free clothes would be his guess. But the questions never came. Jaime stared silently ahead, shaking her head slightly. He placed a hand on her arm, stilling her.
    “Are you all right?”
    “I never go over the speed limit. I’ve never even been pulled over.”
    He shrugged. “It’s pretty much the same in America as in France or Spain. Don’t get pulled over in Belgium though. It’s too much of a headache to get the fine paid.”
    She rubbed at her temples. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”
    “From who? I won’t tell if you won’t.”
    “My stepfather, the insurance salesman. He’s already angry that I didn’t have insurance coverage to replace my car when it was stolen. Now that I’ll be living in town he’ll insist on making sure the next car is covered. He’ll pull my record and this will be the topic of conversation for years.” She leaned forward, resting her head on the steering wheel.
    “It’s just a ticket.”
    “To