If Jaye Lim in his infamous light up glasses insists that you take a shot with him (even when you are adamantly not a shot taker), you do a shot with him. Thankfully he at least spared me by letting me pick the liquor, although Casamigos still burned a bit going down, no matter how top shelf it was.

After coming down from the euphoric high of the race, we'd been suckered into celebrating with the rest of the Porsche team at a rooftop club atop our hotel, since Atlas was in fact the star of the show tonight, and a party wasn't much of a party without its guest of honor, no matter how elusive he was.

We'd gone back to the room to change into more club attire, stealing a few half-dressed kisses as I slid into a black two-piece mini skirt and top combo, with a plunging neckline in an attempt to lift up my lack of cleavage. As usual, Atlas was just breathtaking, even in his usual all-black attire of distressed jeans and a button down. There was an ethereal glow to him that he carried for the entire night - the type of glow when a fire that was about to die had been rescued, and its embers glowed with renewed life.

"Wait," Atlas called over to me as I went to slip my shoes on. He ducked behind the bed for a hot second before emerging with a beige box, and the moment he dropped it onto the bed beside me, my heart ricocheted into my throat.

"No way," I whispered out, running my hand along the white script Christian Louboutin logo on the box. "You didn't."

Atlas gave me a far too casual one shoulder shrug as I delicately began to unbox whatever shoes were waiting for me in there. Even in the box, they were individually wrapped in soft white bags, but just from touching them I could tell they were stilettos.

If my heart had already been in my throat, it might as well have come spilling out of my mouth when my jaw dropped as I slid the shoes out of their bags. The silhouette of the shoe was the simple elegant pump that Louboutin was known for, but even in our dimmed hotel room lights, the little iridescent Swarovski crystals that covered the entire shoe glinted and gleamed as I turned it over in my hand. It was a work of art in stiletto form. 

"I saw them in a store window the other day," Atlas's voice brought me out of my red-bottom daydream. "And I just thought...these were so fucking you, and you'd look proper fit in them so...I walked in and bought them. I hope you like them and I'm not just delusional about your taste in shoes."

"Are you kidding me?" I laughed out as I slipped them on, and to no one's surprise, they fit perfectly. "I'm fucking obsessed." 

As I stood up beside him, I flung my arms around him and planted a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you. You really are sweeter than you give yourself credit for."

"Well, you make it easy." Atlas smirked and shook his head as he took my hands in his, holding me at arms length so he could drink me in, and his gaze made my skin prickle. "Do we have to go? I'd much rather just stay here and admire you in those shoes." He pulled me back close to him, leaning his head down and whispering, "Just the shoes though. Nothing else."

I smiled faintly as I reached up and brushed a lock of white hair off of his forehead. "We should for a little bit. Everyone's expecting you, you fucking superstar." I let my hand fall to the collar of his shirt and unhooked one more button, pushing aside the fabric to expose just a bit more of his toned chest. "But...there are plenty of hours left in the night."

Atlas dragged his teeth along his bottom lip. "Alright, alright. I guess showing you off to everyone is a decent alternative."

So we made our way - admittedly, slowly - up to the rooftop, stealing more kisses in empty hallways and elevators. As we were greeted with cheers and jeers upon arrival, he snaked an arm around me and settled his hand on the sliver of exposed skin between my top and my skirt. He introduced me to a whole manner of important Porsche people, but even more importantly, he made me feel like a permanent fixture - not just physically beside him, but in his whole life.

He'd only left my side once so far tonight to go have a chat with Ronnie, which was what led me now to doing shots with Jaye in his light up glasses. This time his pants weren't floral printed, but instead a vibrant pink that matched the pink and purple lights that danced along the floors. Tropical greenery exploded from every corner, and the entire club oozed modernism and class with sharp chrome bar tables and plush, dark-cushioned seating in the VIP section our whole crowd had occupied. Even at 11 PM, the city backdrop twinkled like a sky full of stars, even though there was one right above us. 

While Jaye had originally extended the invite to a few other drivers, Callahan had other obligations - namely, the book club he was in with Gemma. Those adorable assholes.

"No Adrian Olsen either, huh?" I asked Jaye after recovering from our second Casamigos shot. "Shame, he's starting to grow on me."

Jaye offered me a shrug, and he had to lean in closer to me so I could hear him over the thrumming base of the music. "I'm not sure where he is. He comes and goes as he chooses, ya know?"

I snorted in amusement. "So like a suave wizard."

I expected my Gandalf reference to go right over Jaye's head the way my Lord of the Rings talk always did with everyone else in my life, but behind the blinking lights in his glasses, his dark eyes widened expectantly.

"Yes," he nodded in earnest. "Exactly like a suave wizard."

"I just knew I liked you!" I exclaimed, and we high-fived as we shared a laugh.

As the bartender made us less aggressive drinks (I'd opted for my normal espresso martini if I wanted to last the night), I stole another glance at Atlas, who was in the middle of an animated conversation with two of his mechanics, grinning like I'd never seen him grin before. At least, not in public.

"It's almost freaky seeing him so happy." Jaye jabbed me in the side as he followed my line of sight. "Obviously this was a really important win for him, but...don't discount the fact that a lot of that is because of you, too."

I registered Jaye's words, but when Atlas walked over to us, still smiling a white-toothed smile, the way the air whooshed out of my lungs sucked away any response I could have conjured.

Atlas held his hand out to me. "Dance with me?"

Just like that very first night in Monaco, the way the lights twinkled in his eyes sucked me into a whole new galaxy, but now, I never ever wanted to come home.

Jaye motioned for me to hand him my drink, and I slipped my hand in Atlas's as he led me to a packed dance floor. As we swayed to some amped up remix of a song I didn't know, we became just two faceless bodies in a crowd, just a guy and a girl addicted to the feeling of each other's bodies and the sounds of each other's voices. It reminded me that after all the champagne had been sprayed and the waves stilled, we were just Atlas and Savannah, and there was a beautiful, perfect simplicity in that that nobody could take away from us. 

Atlas spun me around so that our chests were pressed against one another's, our hearts desperate to touch each other. Sliding his hands around my waist, he pulled me even closer as he dipped his head down to brush his lips against mine.

"I think I'm having deja-vu." We were so close that I felt like I was breathing my words into his mouth.

I felt him smile again, taking in the weight of my words. "Would you want to have deja-vu of the end of that night too?"

I ran my hands down the front of his shirt, and he shuddered under my touch. "I'd love to experience some little deaths with you."

That was all he needed, and it was like my words flipped the switch to overdrive.

Everything that Atlas was good at involved speed, and the art of escapism was no different. Our silent exit from the club was quick, precise, and calculated, and just like back in Monaco, he had me whisked away in his arms and right up into an elevator. Except this time, there was no awkward silence or curious, lingering touches. Instead, we laughed into each other's shoulders, our bodies tangled as I backed him against the wall of the elevator, and we kissed each other softly, teetering on the edge of something more dangerous.

We jumped off the elevator, and even in five inch stilettos, we practically ran hand in hand down the hall to his hotel room. By the time we slipped inside, we were breathless, and we kept the lights off and took a bit to inhale the moment. Atlas took my hand and slowly led me over to the plush velvet sofa underneath a window, and lights from the city sent twinkling, colorful confetti across the carpet.

"Sit." He guided me by my shoulders down to the couch, dipping his head down to press a feverish kiss to my lips. He'd struck a match across my heart, and I was burning up for him.

Atlas slid my skirt up and spread my thighs so he could kneel in between them, pulling me to the edge of the couch so he could brush his lips over my bare skin. His breath sent a shockwave up my body, singeing all my nerve endings with white hot lust. When he slipped a finger inside me, a soft moan came tumbling out of me, and I brought my hand down to grab a chunk of his hair. He expertly stroked me with his tongue, sliding another finger in me to tease out another moan. I didn't want to finish yet. I wanted to savor him.

"Atlas," I breathed out. "Bed. Now."

He looked up at me, the city lights twinkling in his eyes, and all I knew in that moment was that I wanted him, and he looked like he wanted me too. That was all any of us truly could have asked for, right? To be so god damn wanted it made your head spin.

Atlas got to his feet and lifted me up, sitting back on the edge of the bed to balance me on his lap with my legs wrapped around his waist. I still hadn't taken my heels off.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, tracing the line of his jaw and moving my hand down to his neck.

He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, and the soft haziness of his eyes flickered with something more animalistic.

"Just...you," he chuckled. "How fucking beautiful you are, how lucky I am that you're mine...and how many different ways I could have you right now."

"Oh, do enlighten me." I arched a challenging eyebrow at him.

Atlas squeezed my hips as he pressed himself into me, hard and aching through his jeans. "No, I think I'll keep it a surprise," he replied in a low whisper, sliding his finger along the waistband of my skirt. "But first, you have way too many clothes on for my liking right now."

After damn near tearing my skirt off, he slid my top over my head and discarded it to the floor, smoothing my hair back out of my face. He dotted my neck with kisses, moving to my collarbone and latching onto places he knew unraveled me. He'd learned my body so well he could have mapped me with his tongue, totally blind.

"Wait a minute," I breathed out. "You're still fully dressed. That's not very fair is it?"

He smirked and leaned back. "I guess you should fix that then."

I traced his lips with my finger before trailing down the front of his shirt, slowly unhooking each button until I got to the bottom, casually brushing my hand over his belt buckle.

"Savannah." My name escaped his lips in a low moan, and it tightened all the nerves in the pit of my stomach. "Touch me."

It wasn't a command by any means, but it was laced with a feverish desire.

"In what way?" I let my voice drop to a whisper.

"In whatever way you want." He sighed out. "I'm yours, I'm so fucking yours."

And just like that, I'd been wholly consumed in the storm that was Atlas Vaughn, and even through all the thunder and lightning and the rain, I knew when the skies cleared it would be nothing short of perfect.

I slid his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, then gently pressed my hand into his chest, pushing him back down into the bed. The heat between us was so tangible, I was worried we'd spontaneously combust. I straddled his waist and ran a single finger down the length of his chest. His breath hitched when I stopped at the waist of his jeans.

"You know, I remember this game that we used to play in high school at silly house parties." I took my time undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans, meticulously parting the teeth one at a time. He hissed out a breath as my fingers traced the inside of the waistband of his boxers.

"We called it 'too hot.' Basically, one person got to touch the other person - of course subtly and with some boundaries - but as soon as the other person succumbed to their lust and touched the first person back...they lost."

Atlas scoffed. "You really want to play a game with me right now? Haven't you heard I'm a tad competitive?"

"Well, I am curious about this," I crooned in his ear, letting my lips just graze his skin. "What outweighs the other in Atlas Vaughn's head? Competitiveness...or lust?"

I gently brushed my lips against his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, slipping my free hand down the front of his boxers. His throat rippled as he tried to hold back a moan, and he gripped the sheets in his fist. With our faces nothing more than a few centimeters apart, he moved to put his mouth to my bare shoulder. Smirking, I put my finger to his lips and shook my head.

"Mouth counts as touching."

Atlas groaned again and laid his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as I continued to stroke him, feeling him rock hard and throbbing under my touch.

"I don't want to play anymore." His words came out in breathy spurts.

"You quit? That means you lose," I said with a tease.

In an instant he took control, flipping us over so his body pressed me hard back into the bed, heat radiating off of him like an engine ready for a race.

"I don't lose," he grinned. "Besides, it's my turn now."

"That's not how the game works."

"I don't care," his voice dropped to a low groan. "You said it yourself, it's a silly game."

After snagging a condom from his wallet on the bedside table, he slid himself out of his pants and his boxers, tossing them aside to the floor. Then in one aggressively swift motion gave my underwear a tug, ripping them off of my hips and discarding them too. I could have exploded right then and there.

"You know Atlas, sometimes I think you are exactly what people say you are." I smirked up at him.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"A sore loser."

His eyes raked down the length of my body, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He kept his gaze on me, like a wolf stalking his prey. I wish I had better analogies for him, but the more that I got to know him, the more I understood how much the wolf persona fit him. On the outside, he was an apex predator in the cold, frigid night, a leader of a pack, a hunter...and yet when the lights of the city hit him just right, his edges became soft and muted. He was still more human than I was ever prepared for, and that was what truly scared the hell out of me.

Atlas reached down and lifted my left leg up, slowly but with ravenous intent, as he placed it gently on his shoulder. With a lustful sigh, his breath danced across my skin as he tilted his head to bring his mouth to my ankle.

"Take those off for me?" I asked, nodding up to my Louboutins.

Atlas shook his head, a darkness glazing over his eyes. "No. I told you before, didn't I? I want to admire you in them...underneath me, and in nothing else."

He reached down and gave me a few gentle strokes with his fingers, a teaser for what's to come.

"God, Atlas." His name escaped my mouth in a euphoric moan.

"Savannah..." I would never tire of hearing him say my name like I ruled the whole world - his whole world. "I want to make love to you."

When he slid himself in me, more slowly and intimately than I expected, I could have come undone almost instantly. He moved my leg off his shoulder so he could lean down and press his body deeply into mine, and it was my turn to grip the sheets. As the heat between us built, the sounds we made twisted up into a storm, his in many languages and mine in the only one I knew, until it became impossible to hold on any longer, exploding into a thousand stars burning in the sky in a fury.

It wasn't like we hadn't done this dozens and dozens of times by now, staining bed sheets with sweat and scattering condom wrappers on the floor like confetti, but as he softly pressed his lips to my neck, I felt the tidal shift of what we'd been all these months to what we were now. I needed him like water. 

"Atlas Vaughn, I'm yours." I breathlessly echoed his statement from earlier, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders like however close he was still wasn't close enough. "I'm so fucking yours."

you made me weak at the knees
'cause i was a runner and i could go for miles
gave me a reason
now i'm in overdrive

overdrive / maggie rogers

behold! an atlas vaughn smile!

this is not only the steamiest scene i've ever written for any story to date (so pls be nice to me), but my favorite chapter of overdrive so far...hence the chapter title. most of this was written almost a year ago and the fact that a good chunk of it needed such minimal altering...i'm just so so so proud of it and the journey this whole story has taken, and i feel like i've taken that journey with them. there's still like 10 chapters left so i don't know why i'm getting so emotional, cause we ain't done yet! not even close.