Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (39 page)

BOOK: Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)
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“Relax Riley,” Darrin said in a strained tone. “Like I said, she’s not what I’m after.”

Jameson pulled him back and slammed him against the metal doors again. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, I’m warning
you
.” Darrin struggled against him pushing back.

Before Jameson could do anything else, crew members from both teams fought to drag Jameson back.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind Jameson?” Kyle shouted in his face. “What don’t you understand about probation?”

“Get off me.” Jameson snapped pushing the door open to the media center.

The contender’s conference was hardly even about the race.

All the media cared about was the confrontation going on between Jameson and Darrin. They were eating this juvenile bullshit up and Jameson and his quick fuse wasn’t helping.

It was late by the time we were on the jet back to Mooresville but I was surprised to see Jameson’s family took a different jet home. Usually they’d fly together.

Jameson was quiet just as I expected.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he didn’t win by the way he was acting. He seemed so different but I also knew he had a great deal of stress these days.

“I need to leave next week after Sonoma.” I told him lounging in the oversized captain chairs. “I was going to fly home after the race.”

He leaned his head back staring out the small oval window, his hands rested folded in his lap. “That’s why we’re going somewhere, alone.”

“What do you mean,
alone
?” I asked shifting in my seat to look at him.

“Alone. No one knows but me and Wes, the pilot.” He clarified glancing over at me with a grin.

An alarming amount of giddiness followed. You’d think I’d just been asked to prom. “Do I get to know where?” Was my first response.

“Nope, not until we’re there,” Jameson chuckled at my enthusiasm. “I can’t take any risks. Personally, I’d prefer it if no one else catches us or see’s us naked,
ever
again.”

The last time with his dad getting a view of the funbags was the final straw for Jameson. So now, there we sat, my last week of the pit lizards dream, on a jet to god knows where.

I was so excited I felt as though I was about to burst into giddy pit lizard delight flames. Thankfully I didn’t.

“I have one condition.” Maintaining my image of control, I reached for my water next to me nonchalantly. “And it’s an important one so listen up.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Where ever we are going,
no
clothes are allowed once we’re behind doors.”

Jameson started unbuttoning his white button down shirt yanking it aside. His hands rested on either side on the arm rests on the chair I was sitting in. He was hovering now and I loved the hovering. “Why wait until we get there honey, let’s start now.”

 

 

 

10.
            
Flat Spot

Sway

Flat Spot – If a driver locks a tire (brakes so hard that the wheel stops turning), he’ll grind a flat spot on the surface of the tire. This causes vibration that can make the car almost undrivable.

 

I wanted to tell Jameson what had changed between us, but I hadn’t. Thinking if I held out, I wouldn’t have to tell him the change that occurred. My body betrayed my mind and instead, it showed in every move.

The storm was losing strength outside, aside from the occasional crack of thunder and the steady pattering of the rain from the growling clouds. The ocean waves pounded against the rocks. With the French doors leading out to the balcony open, the occasional gust of wind whipped through the room.

For the second time tonight, the power was down. The only light in the entire condominium was coming from the candle lit beside the bed, flickering with the wind.

The candle casted a soft orange glow throughout the room. The glistening catching the highlights in Jameson’s hair making it shimmer in the darkness as he hovered above me.

The surprise impromptu vacation destination was a condo he rented on the beach in Savannah Georgia. The only problem was a tropical storm was blowing through.

I had to admit though, it made the few days there fun. There wasn’t anything to do but stay in bed—something we were good at.

So there we were in bed again, but this time Jameson was different.

This
was different as he moved languidly against me, his hips meeting mine with slow passionate movements. His kisses were different, slow, deep, and adoring.

We were
different
. Something had changed.

This wasn’t just about sex anymore. It wasn’t just friends with benefits. What started as simple three weeks ago was complicated as hell now. And while I looked into his ardent green eyes, I knew he saw it too. There was no denying the change.

I was basking in the warm sensation of his body moving with mine, the heat between us creating a sheen of sweat sliding against one another.

Despite the fact I was burning up, my entire body was trembling.

Jameson bent down to kiss my forehead and then leaned back to look at me, his features holding an emotion I couldn’t decipher. His mouth opened as though he was about to say something and then his brow furrowed. Without finishing his words again, he pulled my mouth to his.

Here’s the thing, the
really
shitty thing, I loved this man so damn much, it literally hurt inside and yet I couldn’t even tell him, I just couldn’t.

I wanted to but the words wouldn’t form. Or they would and my lips wouldn’t speak them. What was I going to do, tell him the truth?

No, that was just ridiculous.

There were times when he had tried to tell me something as well but didn’t, his words or thoughts falling short.

Jameson’s mouth moved from my own, spreading kisses over my jaw and against my neck before he pulled back to look at me, his left hand moved from my behind my knee to rest against my cheek. Unnerved by the tears forming in my eyes that this was going to end in less than three days, I turned away, watching the flickering of the candle.

How could I have let myself fall like this?

Where did the time go?

Those three weeks, well they were days now. And soon these days were going to be hours followed quickly by minutes, then seconds and before I knew it, my time in this fairytale I’d been living would be over.

And then what? What would any of this mean to him?

“Sway
...
honey,” his low timbre drew my attention towards him, his nose brushing over my jaw.       

Slowly, I turned my head to meet his gaze.

When he saw the tears streaming down my cheeks, I felt him take a sudden intake of breath. Without saying the words, those tears told him exactly what I couldn’t. They told him exactly how I felt.

They told him this wasn’t just friends with benefits for me anymore, it never was. They told him what all these years as friends had been leading to. Those years and these last three weeks led up to this. I was in love and there was absolutely no way I could be “just friends” with him anymore.

I meant it when I said there was no going back. There just wasn’t.

As though he could hear the unspoken thoughts, he nodded his head once, his thumb sweeping over a tear, brushing it away.

I jumped in his arms when the thunder cracked, the wind picked up, pelting the window with rain. Just like the change occurring within us, the storm was changing, gaining speed.

“Please don’t cry,” he begged kissing my lips. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his hands trembling as they caressed me. The trembling reminded me of the first night together in Charlotte, though this was entirely different now. “I’m sorry
...
I’m
so
fucking sorry.” He said again, his hand moved slowly down my chin to my neck and traced over my collarbone, his eyes still locked on mine.

I couldn’t look away

his eyes betrayed the depth of his emotion and I saw it then, it changed for him too.

Leaning forward, his lips pressed to my neck, his warm breath flowing across my skin. “Non volevo cadere nel miele amore, mi dispiace,” He whispered with an Italian accent he’d perfected over the years.

I moaned as he opened his damp mouth on my throat and pressed his teeth deliberately into the flesh, taking a hard, sucking bite.

Goose bumps shivered over my skin at the sensation. My head fell back as he ran his open, wet mouth down my throat and along my collarbone. Following the path his fingers had just taken, teeth nipping and tongue lapping in their wake. I threw my head back, overwhelmed by the feel of his luscious body on mine.

Gripping his concrete shoulders, my fingers dug into the hard flesh. I ran them down to caress his biceps as they flexed with his weight.

Lifting up, I pressed my mouth to side of his neck, licking and biting my way across the swell of his deltoid to the firm curve of his shoulder. He turned his head and met my mouth, our tongues tangling and wild. He was worshipping me, with his hands and his mouth; nothing was escaping his slow thorough, focused attention. The release and relief was intense my body melting into him.

“Sway,” he whispered. His lips were strangely urgent against mine.

Weak and rubbery with pleasure and satisfaction, my mind couldn’t comprehend his intensity. He ran his long fingers along my damp cheekbone, the trembling in his fingertips brought my eyes open with a snap.

He was looking down at me, his features hardened with tension. I moaned and he shuddered in response, closing his eyes and rocking his hips against mine.

“Oh god, Sway,” His head fell against me just as he flexed forward. Running my hand down the long line of his back, his entire body seemed to react with more trembling. “I can’t
...
I’m
...

Again, he didn’t finish his goddamn words.

Despite my sedated rubbery feeling, it was really starting to irritate me that he just wouldn’t finish his words. That and him speaking in Italian, knowing damn well I don’t speak Italian.

It took me four years to learn two words in Spanish so deciphering Italian wasn’t in my immediate future.

“Jesus Christ
...
the way you move
...

I understood that he was distracted, but Jesus, finish a fucking sentence.

I really wanted to punch him in the face right then, but I didn’t. That would probably ruin the moment. Remembering the mere days I had left, I didn’t want this moment to end.

When he threw himself into his movements, I was distracted from my thoughts of punching him.

There was no holding back any longer. His entire body jerked in time with his release, his head buried in my shoulder as he held my body tightly against his.

He collapsed his entire weight on me, his breath hot and rapid on my neck. I stroked his back and shoulders while my own breathing and heart rate returned to a normal pace.

BOOK: Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)
6.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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