Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (11 page)

I watched as he won the Coca-Cola 600 tonight. I watched as he whispered an entire song in my ear, and let’s face it, he could have been whispering how to change a tire and I would have melted.

And then to top it off, he told me I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Okay well yes, he was drunk when he said it but still, he said it,
to me
.

My attention turned back to Jameson fumbling with his room key. He seemed resolutely focused on getting the door open.

Leaning against the wall, I searched for mine in my bag. Reaching down, I slipped my heels off. My feet now resembled hamburger from all the blisters.

Jameson, with some determination and focus, managed to get the key in the door but fell through the door when it opened landing on his ass in the entryway.

We both started laughing as he lied down on the floor. “I think I broke my ass.”

“I’ll let you get some sleep, Jameson. See you in the morning.” I started to walk away but stopped when I felt his hand grasp my ankle.

“Where you going, honey?” I looked down and I was met with the most intense burning stare. Where his eyes were once restless at the bar earlier, they were now focused and alive.

The green, though bloodshot, seemed brighter but in the same sense, they seemed darker with a carnal desire. I knew the look well as I had it plastered upon my face throughout the entire evening.

That burning stare traveled up my body focusing on mine as he waited for me to answer.

“To my room,” I choked out eventually, though I’m not sure he heard me or maybe it was that I couldn’t hear myself over the loud thudding of my heart in my ears.

I should have been concerned with how fast my heart was beating but all I could focus on was the green in his eyes contrasting against the black in his shirt and the way he was looking at me.

His head skewed to the side slightly as though he was waiting for me to do something, anything.

Nervously, I was stood in the doorway hovering over him. He bent at the waist to sit up wrapping his hands around my legs and leaned in to my right leg.

“Stay,” he whispered against my calf.

His lips brushed against the skin in a tender way but the predatory gaze unleashed told otherwise.

Kneeling down beside him, I dropped my shoes and bag to the ground, providing quite the sight with my illegal skirt. “You’re drunk.”

“So are you.” He pointed out. His hand reached up to touch the side of my face. “I don’t care that we’re drunk.”

I intended on helping him up but it didn’t end up that way when I leaned forward. Arms crossed, legs gave way, bodies tangled together and hands went wild. Before I knew what happened, I was lying on top of Jameson with my legs on either side of his hips.

Propped up by one arm, I looked down thinking he was going to tell me to get up but nope, he just stared at me. With chariness, his right hand moved from my leg and touched my cheek again.

What did I do next?

I did what any aptly minded pit lizard would do. I leaned down and pressed my lips to his once. I planned on one kiss—just to remember the feeling. But he surprised me when his mouth opened and his tongue swept over my lower lip.

So while I intended on this one kiss, my crankcase had other plans, as did Jameson.

His mouth pressed to mine urgently, rough with a hard desperate edge. When his tongue entered my mouth, I gasped forgetting how nice that felt. Over the years we had kissed often, to which I
always
enjoyed, but I failed to remember the giddy high it gave me.

I moved my hips, shifting my weight when my hands found his hair. It didn’t feel strange; it felt right—natural and familiar.

He groaned into my mouth, the want emanating in his voice. “Sway,”

His hands flew to my hips and guided me down on top of him—flush against his pelvis and
oh
...
oh
...
.
hold up
...
caution flags out ladies and gentlemen. We not only had an oil slick down on the track but we had a camshaft searching for a crankcase.

I froze, wondering if he was going to push me away at any moment but he didn’t. We had been here before, but he always stopped quickly before anything escalated, collecting himself. Only now he wasn’t stopping.

Instead, he pushed his hips up to meet mine. “Jesus Christ Sway,”

Still kissing me desperately, his inpatient hands began working my shirt over my head. The pit lizard in me shined and just ripped the motherfucker away letting it fall beside Jameson’s face.

He grinned, a lopsided grin, against my lips, chuckling at my sudden onset of rage against the poor fabric that used to be a shirt. Like an engine exceeding its maximum rev limiter, was my willpower and need for him, damage couldn’t be prevented.

I realized right about then that the door was still wide open so I tried to maneuver my legs to kick the door shut but didn’t succeed.

“Just a second,” I whispered and with one last kiss—I got off Jameson and pushed the door closed.

Once I was away from his warm embrace, I began to comprehend what was really happening.

Did I want this? Did he? Would we regret it in the morning?

Before I had time to regret anything we’d already done, I felt him approach me from behind. A strange electric pulse sang between us causing my breathing to become ragged.

Placing both hands against the door to stabilize myself—my body anticipated the contact. I could smell him—feel him getting closer.

The nervous energy pulsing throughout my body, the nerves felt primed for it, waiting. The silence between us was heavy and tense. My body felt like it was being pulled towards him just by the energy between us.

Jameson leaned in—his chest pressed against my back and covered my hands against the door with his own, his fingers interlocked with mine.

I could feel the rise and fall of each strained breath in his body. His lips pressed to my bare shoulder once and then he made slow and wet kisses over until his lips pressed against my neck, the fire in me burning. He stopped there and then grazed his tongue back down the path he’d just made sending a shudder through me.

“I
want
you so bad, honey.” He whispered, echoing my exact thoughts, his voice and body trembling.

I couldn’t respond, I wasn’t aware a voice could sound so pleading and with so much urgency. Over the course of our friendship, I’d never seen him like
this
before.

I maneuvered myself turning around in his arms.

We stood there facing each other; me without a shirt, his jeans intact with his shirt was open in the front.

The muscles in his stomach flexed and contracted with each labored breath he took. I could tell his resolve was crumbling when he swept his shaking hand across the back of his neck.

It felt as though each of us was daring the other to make the next move.

My eyes met his and I thought I would see love or something resembling the emotions I felt for him but all I saw was the hooded lust burning deep with hunger.

His breathing remained heavy, shit, he was nearly panting as he watched me like I was his prey. And it was impossible to miss the way his hands trembled as they reached for me again.

Letting go of any hesitation I may have had, I lunged for him. Jumping in his arms, his hands immediately flew to my ass as he attacked me, my kiss silencing his guttural moan. We stumbled back against the wall with an animalistic grunt, the drywall cracked against my back but that didn’t stop us.

Driven with want, we seemed to be eagerly searching for the unknown. We weren’t necessarily searching for the same want but we were searching for it with each other.

I kept asking myself what I was doing but I was doing what felt natural to me. It was instinct and adrenaline coming together but there was the familiarity there, assuring me, I was safe with him and
he
wanted this.

We
wanted this.

My body was on fire, the haze lingering in my head was anchoring me. It was like running blindly through fog, hoping nothing was standing in my way.

Throughout our entire friendship, it was easy to see there was a sexual attraction between the two of us. I always wondered if it was just me. Judging by the camshaft rubbing against me, it wasn’t
just
my imagination. Happy hour had begun and eventually our clothes were all over the place and in pieces, with the exception of his jeans.

It didn’t take long and I was on my back on the king size bed in the middle of the gigantic bedroom. His kisses were frantic, hands were determined just as they were when he was steering a race car. Only now, he was steering me. Pushing, pulling, and dragging my body against his in all the ways he wanted.

In between kissing, he whispered against my lips, “Tell me to stop.” I could feel the hesitation in each move he made. It was evident he wanted this but I could tell he held a certain amount of ambiguity.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes fixed and hooded. “
Please
,” his voice broke when his breath caught. “Honey
...
tell me to stop.” Though he was saying this, he didn’t stop. His fingertips ran over my lips searching my eyes for an answer, an answer he didn’t want.

As I said, we’d been like this before but stopped. Stopping now didn’t seem like an option for either of us. But I also I had a feeling this was his way of making
this
my decision.

I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted this just as badly. I always had and now, for the first time, my insecurities surrounding this didn’t matter and I threw myself into it.

“Don’t,” I mumbled pulling him closer, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “Please don’t stop.”

He pulled back again, his eyes searching mine and I could see the struggle within as he stilled himself above me, our chests pressed together, moving together with each breath. It was almost as if he was afraid.

There was no going back, we couldn’t take this back and we both knew that. The second he would enter me, he was claiming my body and that had more implications than either of us could understand right now. Sometimes you think you just want a taste, but is a taste ever enough?

I honestly believe no one could have just
a
taste. This went beyond physical attraction. For me, this was bone deep and would never change. With the way I was drawn to Jameson, both frightening and exciting, this couldn’t be just a taste.

“Sway I
...
” his voice faded, his eyes opening and flashing with something other than the lust we had both been feeling.

“I know,” I said softly. I had no fucking idea what I was agreeing to. I just said “I know” but really what did I know? Then I said, “I want you.”

“I want you too.”

That pretty much sealed the deal for me right there and soon all thoughts were lost on me when he leaned forward and kissed me. 

“Oh god
...
it’s been a
long
time.” He moaned.

You and me both buddy.

Jameson broke away for a moment, the clanking of his belt buckle registered, bringing me back to what this was as he pulled his jeans and underwear down and then returned to the bed, pressing his warm naked body against mine.