#Swag (GearShark #3) (7 page)

“Maybe a couple with his shirt on?” the man suggested when she bent to pick up her bra.

Joey glanced at me. “Can I borrow your shirt a little longer?”

“Whatever,” I said, playing it cool.

‘Course, I’d already ruined the cool guy card with my outburst.

“Lorhaven, turn around,” the photographer instructed, slipping back into work mode.

I did, and he instructed Joey to press her front along my back, her arm came around my hip, and her thumb hooked into my front jeans pocket.

I felt her sigh when her cheek hit the top of my shoulder.

“I like the way you smell,” she murmured, almost like she spoke to herself.

But I heard.

I definitely heard.

“Hair back,” she was told, and I felt her brushing at the locks.

He snapped a few pics and then glanced at Joey and motioned for her to drop the shirt off one shoulder.

My entire body tensed.

Did he think I was fucking stupid and blind?

“He can’t see anything,” she whispered, soft enough only I could hear over the fans and music.

Her palm brushed down the center of my back, a motion meant to reassure me.

It worked.

I relaxed, not all the way, but enough.

I heard the soft rustle of my shirt, and then her arm was back around me, and the feel of her round, perfect, bare breasts was pressed into my back.

Her nipples were hard. I felt the stiff buds in the center of the warm softness.

My eyes closed briefly.

“This okay?” she asked, her cheek pillowing back on my shoulder. It was the first hint of insecurity I’d ever heard from her.

Emotion swelled in the center of my chest. I swallowed it down. “Yeah, baby, it’s good.” I murmured over my shoulder.

She pressed a little tighter.

“Oh, that’s good.” The photographer cut in.

I tensed again. Automatically, my arm went out a little, in front of her arm, instinctively shielding her.

I thought this would be fun.

I thought I could tease her, rile her up, make her want me.

That’s not at all what was happening.

Instead,
I
was the one riled up.
I
was the one standing here with an ache beneath my jeans.

I
didn’t like her.

She was a pro driver. A pro driver with a rich daddy who thought she could waltz into my world like she owned it.

But here I was, standing here with my arm out as if it dared that man to even look at her wrong. Here I was standing here with watchful eyes lest he get too close.

She’d turned the tables on me.

I was played.

By my own damn game.

Abruptly, I pulled away. Without my body there to support hers, Joey stumbled forward. With a low swear, I reached for her.

As I steadied her, I caught a flash of boob.

My dick throbbed.

“We’re done,” I barked. My hands were still on her, so I pulled the shirt up, taking a moment to flip the collar up around her neck and button several of the buttons.

“Lor—”

I snarled. Her voice fell away.

My body spun. I watched the man bustle around, turning off most of the lights and the fans. The music cut off.

The three of us were left in a shadowy, partially lit square box.

“I’ll send the proof of the cover over for final approval before I submit it,” he said, looking at me.

I was pretty sure the contract I signed said all images were the magazine’s and I had no say.

“You do that,” I replied. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t trying to pull a fast one by putting her half naked on a magazine just to make money.

I’d never cared about this shit before. Hell, I looked at nudie magazines and watched porn just like every other guy.

But not her.

She was off-limits.

The man nodded sagely.

“She needs to change,” I said, a hint of steel in my implication.

He scurried out of the box faster than I thought he was capable. I shut the door behind him and leaned against it.

Joey was standing there with her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I like when you cuss,” I said, staring at her mouth.

She rolled her eyes. “I know you’re an ass, but what the hell possessed you to go off like that?”

“Say one more filthy word,” I warned, taking a menacing step toward her.

My blood was pounding in my veins. Sweat clung to my shoulder blades, and my palms itched. Her nipples were still tight little buds, and when she breathed, they pressed against the thin fabric of my shirt.

“Or what?” She challenged, lifting her chin.

“I’ll show you,” I intoned.

“You are such a
dick
.”

I shot away from the door and snatched her wrist, yanking her so she fell against my chest. Her eyes blazed up at me, and I growled.

Within seconds, I lifted her off her feet, her legs wrapped around my waist, and I slammed her back up against the door.

I wasn’t gentle.

She didn’t care.

Just like I’d longed to do since I saw her standing there by my Lotus, I shoved my hands in all her midnight hair.

A groan ripped from between my lips, and then I attacked her.

The back of her head hit against the door as my lips locked over hers. Her fingernails dug into my neck, pulling me close as our mouths went at each other like the first round in an MMA fight.

She kissed like she spoke.

Dirty, hard, and sassy.

She wasn’t easy like all the other girls. It was like she gave me a fight, our lip-lock was exciting, intoxicating, and it thrilled me all the way to my core.

We went rounds with each other. I would have eaten her lips if I could. She was a craving I never knew I had, the most expensive bottle of champagne a five-star restaurant could offer.

And her tongue.

She wielded it like a sword. It fucking slayed me. The way it wrapped around mine and delved deep into my mouth…

Fucking right.

I reached around, filled my hands with her ass, and squeezed as I screwed her mouth with mine.

I was so stiff I thought I might rip my jeans. I wanted to pound myself so deep in her I might never come out. I wanted to feel those shapely hips rotate over my cock, and I wanted her inner walls to squeeze me until I shot a load deep in her depths.

I ripped my mouth free and pressed my forehead against the door just over her shoulder.

Joey took in deep, gulping breaths. Every rise and fall of her chest made me hungry for more. Against her body, my hand flexed.

She was a pro driver.

A pain in my ass.

As bad as I wanted to dip inside her, it wasn’t going to happen.

Fucking wrong.

I stepped back, and she slid down my front like Jell-O.

“What should I call you?” she asked, her voice still breathless.

I glanced down. The intense, clover green of her eyes pierced me. Her lips were swollen and slick with my kiss.

I wanted to kiss her again.

I couldn’t.

“Jace,” I bit out. My voice was made of gravel. “Call me Jace.”

I picked her up and moved her away from the door, then nearly ripped it off the wall as I rushed outside into the summer sun.

People looked up, surprise on their faces.

I gave them all a look like they were imagining things and went casually toward my car to get the T-shirt I’d showed up in.

I’d told her to call me by my first name.

No one called me by my first name.

That’s the way I’d always wanted it.

Until now.

Joey

Why did all the dickheads have to kiss so good?

He issued a challenge.

I replied in turn.

I wanted to rile him up. Give him a taste of his own medicine. Serve him up a slice of tasty humble pie.

Yet I was the one standing here with aching, heavy breasts. My lips still tingled from the way he devoured me. My ears still echoed from when he called me baby.

I wasn’t a girly girl. I didn’t get all dressed up or spend hours on my hair and makeup. I didn’t bat my eyes or bite my lip to get a man’s attention.

Men were pigs. I didn’t want their attention anyway. I wanted their respect.

But he called me baby.

For a moment there, I’d forgotten about the photographer. For a moment, it had been just him and me. My body and his. God, the way it felt to curl up at his back and press against him.

I’d never felt like that before.

Small. Protected. Desired.

Yes, desired. I’m not talking about the desire every woman saw when a man looked at her rack, whistled as she walked past, or even propositioned her with or without a dinner date.

That wasn’t desire, not really. It was lust. Want.

Desire was wholly different; at least just then it was. Desire became tangible. It transcended the physical; though, the physical pull was definitely there. For it wasn’t just his body that was present in that moment; it was part of him I’d never seen or felt before. A part I felt him wanting to share, as if while, yes, he might lust for my body, part of him whispered for a piece of my heart.

He told me his name. The one I’d never heard before. It was like that piece of him, the one whispering to my heart, wanted to be recognized. By me and only me.

A girl could get high on thoughts like that.

It was dangerous, and it shook me.

This was Lorhaven, the guy who, when we first met, literally tried to run the car I was in off the road. He and Drew were always at each other’s throats, and Trent seemed to hate him for some unidentified reason.

He was a snob. A racing snob. He hated the pros because he was an indie.

Call me Jace.

Quickly, I stripped off his shirt and left it right there on the floor. It carried his scent. I liked it, so I left it behind.

The second I stepped out of the makeshift studio, I was surrounded. Trent, Drew and Hopper all stood there with worried looks on their faces.

“What?” I snapped.

“I was about to come in there,” Drew intoned.

“And?” I motioned with my hand.
So what?

Drew’s blue eyes narrowed. “Did something happen between you and Lorhaven?”

“Besides him being his usual mule’s ass? No.”

I felt Drew’s stare, like he was trying to decide if I was lying. I looked him right in the eye.

He relented after a minute.

“It was hot in there. I was just freshening up.” It was a lie veiled in truth.

I felt Trent’s watchful gaze and glanced up. He didn’t say a word, but I saw. He knew I lied. He somehow sensed a storm churning inside me.

“Emily’s ready for you,” Hopper told me, drawing my attention away from Trent.

His light-blue eyes were piercing. It was like he, too, was trying to read me. But he wasn’t as good at it as Trent.

I felt myself exhale.

I followed along behind Hopper, noting the deep-blue color of his jeans and the tension in his back muscles. The wrist at his side was wrapped in the dark-brown leather bracelet he always wore. There were dull-gold studs all around it with something else of the same metal in the center. I’d never actually looked at it close enough to see what it was even though he wore it every single time I saw him.

He led me to a small area where Emily and Lorhaven were already seated. Before stepping out of the way, he turned to face me, placing a steady hand on my upper arm. “You okay, Joey?” he murmured low. “If you’re done, we’ll go.”

“No,” I put my hand over his. “I’m good, but thank you.”

He studied me for one second longer, then nodded and stepped aside. Jace and Emily came into full view. The only vacant chair was beside him. He didn’t even glance at me when I sat down.

I felt my hackles rise.

“One forty-five you say?” Emily purred. Her voice grated on my nerves.

He nodded and sat back as if he owned the chair. “I can push her faster.”

“I’ve never gone that fast before.” She pouted.

Oh, good Lord. If she had a dick, she’d probably pull it out and ask him to suck it for her.

“Maybe I’ll take you for a ride sometime,” he replied. The smooth tone of his suggestion made vomit bubble up the back of my throat.

“Could we begin?” I asked, blunt. “I have somewhere I need to be.”

Lorhaven’s stance in the chair didn’t change; if anything he lounged back farther. I didn’t look at him. If I did, I’d probably punch him.

I didn’t like being played with.

“Of course.” Her eyes cut to me, and a look I recognized well shone in their depths.

So this was how it was going to go, eh?

My hands gripped the armrests.

For whatever reason, she saw me as a threat. I knew jealousy when I saw it. I knew when a cat had out its claws. I could eat this little reporter for breakfast.

But I was full.

Lorhaven saw to that.

“I’ll just ask you a few questions, and then I can do the rest of the interview with Lorhaven.”

I couldn’t help it. I glanced at Lorhaven. His eyes flashed up at mine, then away.

There was a brooding quality to his eyes, perhaps because they were so dark?

Because there’s a lot more beneath Lorhaven’s surface. Like a Jace.

My back teeth snapped together, and I pinned little Miss Pencil Skirt with a hard look. “Oh, just a few questions? So you can relegate me to the back page with just a couple lines of text.”

Her eyes widened. “Of course not.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” I went on. “
GearShark
seems to have a reputation for being a good ol’ boys club, one that has a
No Women Allowed
sign front and center.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” I spat. “Because you flirt and do as you’re told.”

Her eyes lit with anger.

I held up my hand. “I apologize. That was rude.” I wasn’t really sorry. But I pictured my dad bursting a vein in his head if what I said to the “press” got out. “I’m just a little… bitter,” I admitted. “The last time I was mentioned in the magazine, I got one line of stats. All the other racers got bios with headshots.”

“So you think you’re discriminated against because of your gender?” The reporter brushed her hair back and looked at me with interest.

Well, maybe a couple of the crayons in her box still had some sharpness after all.

“I know so.”

“Most people would laugh or scoff at that. This is the twenty-first century. Women’s rights were in place a long time ago.”

“So were rights for gays, people of different races…” I replied without heat. “But my best friends are hated on for loving each other. The news reeks of injustice against all races.”

“Touché.”

“The truth is,” I said, blunt, “men don’t want women in racing. They just don’t. It ruffles their feathers.”

Lorhaven made a sound. I glared at him over my shoulder. “Something to add,
Lorhaven
?”

His eyes narrowed and between the slits, they glittered like black diamonds.

Jace is still in there, somewhere, or he wouldn’t care I called him something else.

He spread out his hand for me to continue. “I find this fascinating.”

I just bet he does.

I turned away from him. Screw him and the car he drove in on.

Even if it was a sexy white Lotus.

“Out there on the track, a lot of testosterone is pumping. Men are in a primal form. Be the best. Be the strongest. They’re intimidated by a female coming along and trying to beat them.”

“You said trying. Have you ever won?” Emily questioned.

I sat back. “Of course. If I had more print time in these racing magazines and sports channels, you’d already know that.”

“And what was it like for you after you won?”

I felt one shoulder shrug. “It doesn’t matter if I win or lose, it’s always the same.” I had to work to keep the exhaustion from my tone. “I’m not wanted; they make it clear. I’m often isolated, left to work on my own. They don’t want to talk to me, but at me. When I try to interject into a conversation, say about engine parts or torque ratio, they suddenly start acting like I’m dumb or a child.”

“Have you ever been hazed?”

I felt the weight of a thousand eyes, even though it was just one set belonging to the man beside me.

I shifted uncomfortably. “The pro racing circuit prohibits hazing of any members.”

“Spoken like the daughter of a business tycoon.”

“Another strike against me,” I replied.

“The boss’ daughter.”

“I couldn’t possibly have talent or ambition, you know,” I said, bitter. “My daddy buys me
everything
.”

“He is your sponsor, isn’t he?” Lorhaven interrupted.

“My main sponsor, yes,” I replied. “But I have others.”

“Do you think he sponsors you because you’re his only child?”

I turned steady eyes on Emily. “My father is a businessman, and I think his accomplishments attest to that. Do you really think a businessman would sink as much money into a racing sponsorship for someone if he wasn’t going to get a return on investment?”

“For his only child?” Lorhaven mused. “Absolutely.”

“Don’t you have a wealthy father?” I asked.

His eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t sponsor me in the NRR. Brickstone Tires sponsors me.”

“But I guess he’s never helped you in your career. Or bought you a car or car parts,” I said.

Emily looked at him expectantly.

Lorhaven shrugged.

God! What an asshole. Why was it okay for him to take from his father, but not me?

“What happened to your Corvette anyway?” I asked. “Did you finally wreck it trying to run someone off the road?”

“Something like that,” he said, looking away.

“This is all very interesting.” Emily cut in. “I’d like to talk further with both of you. But first, I just really want to know…” She turned to me. “Is it true you’ll be leaving the pro racing circuit for a sponsorship in the NRR?”

“Yes,” I said, not holding back. This is what I was here for. “I’m finishing out my pro season, and then I will be crossing over.”

Lorhaven’s boots hit the floor when he sat up all the way.

“You don’t like pro drivers. You’ve never hidden that fact,” Emily said to him.

“Nope.”

“What’s up with that?” she asked.

I turned to him, waiting.

“Because they’re a bunch of stuck-up assholes.”

“Let me guess. You tried out and they didn’t want you,” I said.

“I wouldn’t let my daddy buy my way in,” he snapped.

Touchy.

“We’ll come back to that,” Emily said. “So what are your thoughts on this crossover and a female driver in the NRR?”

I was dumb.

Played. With one kiss, one shared name, I’d somehow become forgetful of just who it was sitting beside me.

And why that one kiss was all we’d ever have.

“I think she can’t hack it in the pros. She thinks it’s going to be easier in the NRR.” He sat forward. I was so mad my entire body had gone rigid. Our eyes warred with one another, and not the kind of war that felt good. “Guess what, sweetheart?” he murmured. “The NRR is harder than the pros. No rules racing ain’t for girls.”

Slowly, I pushed up out of my chair.