Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (24 page)

BOOK: Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)
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Jameson gave me a lopsided grin, he cheeks flushed from the micro polishing. “Where’s the fun in that?  Besides, now I have to get Alley back again.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“So, are you in trouble with NASCAR now?”

“Uh, well not really but the burn out
...
that wasn’t part of the deal I made with Gordon.” He lifted his hips pulling his jeans up. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.” He said shrugging his shoulders once and then lifted himself up on the window to step out.

After he was out, I succeeded in getting untangled from the roll bars. I gave the discharge nozzle a little pat after our time spent together and hopped out of the car to lean against it as Jameson buttoned his jeans and fixed his t-shirt.

Once he was finished, he leaned into me, effectively trapping me against the side of the car once again. “So
...
let’s head back to my motor coach. I need to repay you.” He whispered softly and then leaned in for a kiss.

“That’s
...
okay, you don’t need to. Like I said, I’m sore.”

“Silly Sway, no align boring needs to take place for me to repay the favor.” he dropped to his knees in front of me, his eyes rose to meet mine through his long thick lashes. “I’m fairly certain this crankcase needs some proper deburring.”

Good lord that has to be the sexiest thing he does.

Lifting my shirt, he kissed along the band of my jeans, his fingertips dipping inside.

Now as nice as the hood of the race car was the other night, I still remember the sticker burn my ass currently had and if we dented that hood again, Kyle would kill us.

As it was, they already had to steal the hood from the back-up and put it on the primary car. And let’s not forget the incredibly awkward conversation with Jimi about
how
the hood was dented in the first place
or
the questioning glances from the rest of his team.

“Jameson,” I moaned when he unbuttoned my jeans and swept his tongue along my hipbone. “Not here. Let’s go back to your motor coach.” I managed to get him back on his feet. “Wait, where are Alley and Spencer staying?”

I didn’t want to get caught again, or for Alley to figure out that it was me Jameson was being a whore with.

He laughed a loud adorable laugh against my neck he was currently kissing, oh the kissing, he never stopped. When we were alone, his lips were never far from my skin.

“They’re staying in Pocono. Alley probably just came back because I’m sure Lisa called. Gordon probably didn’t tell her he told me I could take you for a ride.” He assured me.

His hand reached out to tap my ass leading me outside.

Hopping on his back, we made our way back to his private motor coach in the driver’s compound.

Leaning my head down to kiss his neck, I whispered against his cool skin. “Since we’ll be alone
...
you
might want to prepare yourself for a long night.”

Jameson nodded his head in approval, his eyes dancing with excitement. “Sleeps overrated,” and without missing a beat he spun me around so I was in front of him, legs still wrapped securely around his waist. “And honey,” he leaned in to give me an ardent kiss. “You
should
prepare yourself.”

 

 

 

6.
             
Heat Cycle

Sway

Heat Cycle – A tire that has been heated up through use and then cooled down has gone through one heat cycle. This often results in a slight hardening of the tire compound, which can make the tire perform at a higher level for a longer period of time.

 

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Spencer’s laughter. Not necessarily a
bad
sound to wake up to but I didn’t want to wake up in the first place. Jameson was draped around me like his last victory flag, which wasn’t a surprise. Since we started this “Friends with Benefits”, we’d barely gotten any sleep and were seeing a lot of benefits as friends.

Tangled in skin, there I was lying underneath Jameson, naked, listening to Spencer tell Aiden about how he once snorted powdered sugar for a quarter when he was five.

With wide justifiable eyes, I examined my surroundings.

Jameson’s motor coach was a complete disaster. We went back there after the ride and made sure we made use of the alone time on the couch, in the tiny bathroom, in the bedroom, on the floor and up against the walls.

With only a few feet separating each motor coach in the driver’s compound, I’m amazed no one called security on us.

Furniture was broken, sheets were ripped from the bed, and the mattress was half on the bed and half off, leaving us on the only section that remained stable.

Beside me, there was a pillow that somehow was torn, leaving feathers all over the place and our clothes were scattered throughout the forty-five foot motor coach. I could
actually
see my bra spinning around on the ceiling fan, talk about a wild night.

The alone time seemed to be over with by the sounds of all the commotion going on outside. Either that or security was waiting for us.

I tried to move thinking I was actually going to suffocate any minute if I didn’t free some part of my body. The only problem, I couldn’t move. Body parts were tangled in every direction sealed together by sweat. His body was like fire and he was heavy, really heavy.

Jameson began to stir a few moments later, groggy but stirring.

His head lifted to look up at me. “Jesus,” he glanced around and then frowned at our bodies. “Even in my sleep I’m drawn to you. Can you even move now?”

Freeing one arm from underneath him, I giggled. “Probably not,”

“Fuck, I have to get to practice
...
but,” he started kissing the other arm that he was still lying on. “I don’t wanna get up.”

And he didn’t get up. Instead, he moved his hips against my leg and then positioned himself between my legs, reaping in
his
determined benefits.

“Again?” I asked with a slight giggle and then a sneeze when a lone feather tickled my nose. “Is the door locked?” I rolled him onto his back straddling his hips, a position I’d become accustomed to lately.

Jameson gave me a lopsided grin, his eyes sparkling with desire. “Yeah, I locked it last night.” His voice had a certain drawl that made it sound gravely and
incredibly
sexy.

 

Another hour later, I was getting dressed in the bathroom when I heard the door to Jameson’s motor coach open.

“Jameson, have you seen Sway?” Alley asked Jameson who was out in the living room portion of the motor coach. “I can’t find her?”

I was hoping Jameson had gotten his own clothes back on. That wasn’t the case when she said, “Jesus Jameson,” I could literally hear her roll her eyes. “put your fucking pants on. The last thing I want to see is
you
naked again.”

That would be a no on the clothes, and now I knew what he was referring to the other night about catching him in
a worst position
.

“I thought I locked that.” Jameson grumbled. I could hear him scrambling around putting his clothes on.

“Well, you—” her voice cut off when she heard a loud bang coming from the bathroom, me.

Apparently, and though I knew this already, I was not being sneaky,
still
.

In my attempt to get dressed faster, I stumbled and knocked over the shampoo bottle that was on the sink, sending it flying into the granite shower stall. Not at all sneaky.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!

“Who’s in there?” Alley asked.

“None of your fucking business is
who’s
in there.” Jameson barked back at her. “Get out.”

I could tell by the pitch of his voice he was starting to get annoyed that everyone kept walking in on us. “Who are you calling?”

“Sway,” Alley snapped at him. “Why do you care?”

Where is my cell phone?

Shit on a shingle
...
I was screwed. My cell phone was in Jameson’s motor coach, on Jameson’s nightstand, next to Jameson’s bed, where Jameson’s sheets, pillows,
and
mattress look like a F5 tornado touched down,
and
it was ringing.

Damn it, I knew I should have put it on vibrate.

I was cut off rather abruptly from my internal perturbing by Alley. “
Tell Sway
, I was looking for her when she comes out of the bathroom.”

The door slammed behind her followed by a loud thud of what I assumed was Jameson throwing something at the door.

Slowly I peeked my head out the door to spot Jameson was sitting on the couch putting his racing shoes on.

“So
...
Alley knows huh?” I asked standing against the counter in the kitchen a few moments later.

Again, he didn’t say anything, just nodded his head as he tied his shoes. He looked pissed. Watching his quick brisk movements as he yanked on the strings tightly, my pissed theory was confirmed.

“Are you mad?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes focused on the floor but eventually he did speak. “I’m tired of everyone walking in on us.” His tone is off and I knew then there was something more to this than
just
people walking in on us.

“Is that all?”

Taking in a slow, controlled deep breath, he leaned back against the couch, running his fingers through his hair once. His hair stood on end in the wake as his hands flopped down in frustration. “I just
...
why is it such a big deal that Alley
not
know about us?” He sounded offended that I would want to keep this from them. “Are you ashamed?” Sighing, he reached for his cell phone beside him as though he’d just said something he didn’t intend to say.

Momentarily, I just stood there until my brain caught up.

“Uh
...
I
...
she,” I sat down beside him trying not to look at him in fear he’d see through my paper thin skin when it came to him. “She warned me to stay away from you because they think I’m going to get my heart broken.”

Jameson nodded tightly. “Do you think that?” He asked softly, not looking at me and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he wasn’t even paying attention by the way he focused all his attention on the phone in his hand, but I also knew better.

Be tough Sway! Don’t get emotional now, just be tough.

I smiled ruefully at him hoping he didn’t see the sadness. “Why would I think that, we’re just friends with benefits?”

That didn’t sound very convincing.

His eyes shifted to me and then dropped quickly to his phone. “Right,” he mumbled with another cold nod.

Nervous I gave myself away completely, I started to fidget.

After a moment, Jameson tossed his phone on the couch, stood, and pulled his racing suit over his shoulders zipping it. “Well, it’s none of their fucking business if we’re humping anyways.” he said giving me a wink. His expression didn’t match the gesture though. It seemed almost, forced.

BOOK: Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)
9.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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