Friction: Full Velocity Series - Book 1

by Delaney, Tracie

  I expected him to hit me with a comeback, but instead, he leaned in close and murmured, “Why’d you leave Australia so suddenly, and without saying goodbye?”

  There was an undertone to his voice, one I hadn’t heard before. Husky, raw, and sexy as hell.

  Before I could answer, Dad called over, “Okay, you guys, let’s go. We’ve a race to plan.”

  As I went to walk away, Jared grabbed my arm.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  Sweeping my tongue over my lips, I chose a light and breezy, “What about?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t play games, Ley. We’re talking. Later.”

  And with that, he strode on ahead, leaving me trailing behind.

  * * *

  My fascination with the race strategy meeting edged my acute awareness of Jared sitting opposite into second place, something I assumed would have been an impossibility—a timely reminder that my career meant the world to me. But as the talks wound down, my gaze automatically shifted to Jared. The image of him striding toward me before those lips crashed down on mine crowded my mind. The way he’d taken control so easily with a simple kiss caused a swell of desire to crash over me.

  A soft sigh escaped my lips, drawing Lewis’s attention. He glanced between me and Jared and then gave me a hard stare. I glared back. His silent message was clear: don’t go there. Well, too bad, cos if I got the chance, I was definitely going there. Again and again.

  And again.

  The session ended, and chairs scraped along the floor as everyone rose to their feet. Breathless, I waited for Jared to give me a sign he was ready to talk, but before he could, Dad cocked his head, indicating for Jared to follow him, and the two of them disappeared.

  I wanted to scream with frustration, especially when I spotted Lewis making his way over, a determined expression on his face. I pretended I hadn’t seen him and headed for the door, but I wasn’t quick enough. He gripped my upper arm.

  “Hold on there, little lady,” he said. “A word.”

  I gave him my best innocent look, one I’d perfected as a teenager. It always worked a treat on Mum and Dad. Not so on Lewis, if the arched eyebrow he sported was anything to go by.

  “What’s up, Lew?”

  He waited until we were alone and then loomed over me. “We’ve already spoken about staying away from Jared, Paise. Now I’m telling you. Forget it. Forget him. He is not the man for you. I don’t want to rat you out to Jack, but I will. Either you quit mooning after Jared Kane with your big blue eyes, or you’ll give me no choice but to let your dad know what’s going on.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and kicked a hip out to one side in what I hoped imitated a no-nonsense stance. “Nothing is going on,” I stated. “Jared and I are just friends.”

  Lewis snorted. “And I’m the goddamn Pope.”

  “Well, I ain’t kissing your ring,” I drawled, earning a bark of laughter from him. “And it happens to be the truth.” An opportunity to put Lewis off the scent arose, and I took it. “If you must know, yeah, I’m attracted to Jared, but he’s not remotely interested, okay? So please don’t poke at an open wound.”

  Lewis’s eyes widened, and a faint tinge of pink colored his cheeks. “Shit, Paise, I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.” I grinned. “Still, now you know, stop giving me a hard time, okay?”

  He gave my arm a squeeze. “The right guy will come along for you, Paise, at the right time.”

  The right guy had come along. All I had to do was convince the man himself.

  “Can we stop talking about my love life, or lack of it, Lew?” I playfully nudged him.

  Lewis chuckled. “Absolutely.”

  I went in search of Angus to see if he needed anything from me. He didn’t. I’d be more involved at free practice tomorrow. Once I progressed from a trainee to a fully fledged member of the team, then I’d be much more involved.

  Hanging around the motorhome, I waited for Dad to turn up with Jared, but neither did. I was about to go looking for them when Devon arrived.

  “There you are, Paise,” he said. “Your dad asked me to tell you he’s gone to some press thing with Jared and Lewis, and then they have the sponsors dinner after that, so he suggested you head back to the hotel and he’ll catch up with you there later.”

  My jaw clenched of its own accord. Bloody charming. Dinner for one, and an early night, then. Alone.

  * * *

  The next day’s practice session went well, and Jared hit the top of the leaderboard as fastest on the day. Tate came in second with Lewis third. Dad couldn’t hide his delight as he went around clapping everyone on the back and with such a big smile, his cheeks must surely ache.

  The temperature was well over one hundred degrees, and we were all melting, so when Devon turned up with a box full of ice pops and ice-cream bars, the whole team dove in. I chose a strawberry one in the shape of a rocket.

  I parked my backside on an upturned toolbox. After peeling off the wrapper, I sucked the ice pop into my mouth. I nibbled my way down, stopping every few seconds to allow the cold frozen ice to slither down my throat. God, I needed that. It was too damned hot.

  Halfway through the delicious treat, I glanced up to find Jared staring at me with something akin to shock on his face. His burning gaze pinned me in place, and suddenly, I couldn’t move.

  Oh dear God.

  A rush of wetness flooded my underwear. I tried to tear my gaze away, but I couldn’t. The garage might as well have been empty. It was just me, him, and enough sexual tension to fuel a race car for an entire season. He unfastened his race suit and peeled it down to his waist, revealing his fire vest underneath. My eyes were glued to his taut chest muscles and firm, lean biceps. Casually, he walked in my direction and crouched beside me. Everyone was busy chattering and didn’t notice our exchange.

  His mouth moved to my ear, and he murmured, “When I go to bed tonight, I’m going to imagine you doing that to my dick.”

  My lips parted in a half-open gape before closing, which allowed me to swallow, hard. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response, an unusual state of affairs for me. Did that mean what I thought it meant? What I hoped it meant?

  “Jared, I—”

  “Hot as fuck, Pixie Ley,” he said, cutting me off. “Hot. As. Fuck.”

  He straightened as I struggled to find my equilibrium which had gone skipping down the road singing tunes from La La Land.

  “We’re still having that chat, but it’ll have to wait until after Sunday’s race.”

  And with that, he strolled away without a care in the world, leaving my brain scrambled.

  Jared

  I crossed the finish line with the sound of the crowd roaring in my ears and an abundance of blue-and-red Nash Racing flags in my peripheral vision. I swerved toward the pit wall, a nod to my amazing crew who’d pulled out all the stops for me this weekend.

  I’ve gone and fucking done it.

  I’d won my second ever race in Formula One. Letting go of the steering wheel, I fist-pumped the air, adrenaline coursing through me. Only one other time came close to how I felt, and that was the year I’d won my first ever IndyCar race, but I’d go so far as to say this edged it.

  “Guys, we did it!” I yelled into the radio. “Thank you so much. I owe—” My voice broke. I cleared my throat in an effort to force the words. I swallowed past the lump and tried again. “Thank you, for everything.”

  “Terrific race, Jared,” Devon’s calm tones came back at me. “You drove sublimely.”

  By the time I drew to a halt in Parc Fermé, the area where all the cars gathered after the race, I grinned so widely, it was a wonder my face didn’t split. I leaped out of the car and jogged over to my team who were all hanging over the railings. My gaze fell on Paisley, right at the front, waving her hands like a lunatic. I flung my arms around her. I couldn’t speak to her because I hadn’t removed my helmet, but I clearly heard her scream, “You’re a god, Ja
red Kane.”

  Now come on… What guy wouldn’t want to hear that from a girl he was desperate to fuck. If she repeated that in the bedroom, my cock would go off like a bottle of violently shaken champagne.

  The rest of the team enveloped me in hugs, including Lewis—who clapped me on the back and stuck up his thumbs. Reluctantly, I left my team and went to get weighed. The next couple of hours passed by in a blur. Standing on the podium’s top step holding my trophy aloft to the cheering crowds. Attending the post-match interviews. The team briefing with our engineers and strategists where we went over every single second of the race. By the time Jack gave me the go ahead to leave, I could barely keep my eyes open. I couldn’t complain, though. At least I had some time off before flying to China for the next race. The rest of the team had a much harder job. They had to dismantle the cars, pack everything up, transport the kit thousands of miles, then rebuild the car at the other end.

  It suddenly occurred to me that I might not get a chance to talk to Paisley. She’d be expected to help the team move the kit?

  Damn.

  I searched for her, but after checking the motorhome, the garage, the sponsors area, she was nowhere to be found. Deflated, I said a quick goodbye to Devon and Angus, managing to refrain from asking if they’d seen her.

  I planned to stay the night in Bahrain, but tomorrow I’d head back to London for a few days. I’d love to go home to the States, but by the time I arrived and acclimated, I’d have to leave again. It didn’t seem worth it.

  My driver dropped me at the hotel where, like a fucking lame rock star, I fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow. I awoke the next morning dazed and confused until I remembered where I was. I snatched up my phone and checked my messages. Several from my family, all congratulating me on the win… and two from Paisley.

  My heart stuttered as I opened the first one.

  Sorry we didn’t catch up. Dad insisted on dinner with the most boring people ever. I’ll see you soon, then we can talk.

  And the second.

  You can talk while having your cock sucked, right?

  Blood rushed to my groin so fast, I became light-headed. I palmed my dick at the same time as reading the second message over and over and sent a reply.

  No problem. And I can’t honestly say I’ve tried.

  Three dots appeared, her response instantaneous, almost as though she’d been waiting for my text.

  First time for everything.

  * * *

  I pushed open the door to my apartment after an uneventful flight to London, a sense of loneliness overwhelming me. The intense adrenaline rush of winning my first Grand Prix had worn off, and I felt alone and isolated. Maybe leaving behind my friends, my family, everything I’d ever known had been a mistake.

  And then my mind turned to Paisley. God, I wished she was here right now. I wouldn’t feel lonely then.

  I dumped my suitcases in my bedroom and opened a bottle of water. Spring had broken in the few weeks I’d been away, and I sat on the balcony and watched the world go by.

  I lost track of time when the sound of a fist banging against my door jerked me back to the present. I frowned. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

  Setting my drink on the ground, I stood and walked inside.

  I drew back the door to find Paisley holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a pack of beers in the other.

  “Ta-da,” she said, pushing past me. “I knew you’d be hiding out here like a virgin at a swingers’ party when you should be celebrating. I’ve brought curry and beer. Brace yourself for a culinary lesson—aka me popping this in the microwave. And then prepare for a taste sensation. Khan’s does the best curry takeaway this side of the river.”

  My eyebrows shot up, and I broke into a smile. Being around Paisley was like finding myself in the eye of a hurricane, and I realized, standing there like a dumbass with my mouth agape, that this wonderful, special, unique woman had inveigled her way into my life without me even being aware of it happening.

  I closed the door and followed her through to the kitchen. She’d opened a couple of silver cartons that contained what I could only describe as disgusting brown stuff.

  “What is this shit?” I said. “It’s like… gunk.”

  She shot me a stern look. “Gunk? I’ll have you know, Mr. Philistine, this is the best chicken madras outside of India. Just wait until you taste it. You’ll thank me, I promise.”

  “Paisley,” I said, eyeing the film of grease lining the top. “I’m in training. I can’t eat this type of food.”

  She gestured dismissively, a frown of concentration drawing her brows low. “One meal won’t hurt you. Put in an extra hour at the gym tomorrow. And anyway, we both have to eat it, otherwise, when I snog your face off later, I’ll stink of garlic. So we both have to stink of garlic to not smell it on the other.”

  I was too blindsided by ‘snog your face off’ to be disgusted by the idea of smelling of garlic. I half expected her to look at me for a response, but she focused on prepping the food. She rinsed out the foil packages the food came in and left them on the side.

  “Make sure you recycle those,” she ordered.

  I mock saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She covered the food and put it in the microwave, then grabbed some silverware and a couple of napkins.

  “Here.” She pushed two bottles of beer toward me. “Open those.”

  I’d never had a woman order me around in my life, apart from Mom, but there was something in the way Paisley did it that had me obeying without hesitation. I twisted off both caps, handed one over, and touched the neck of mine to hers.

  “How come you haven’t gone to China with the rest of the team?” I asked.

  “Dad wanted me to check up on Mum. He had planned on coming back himself before flying out, but something came up with one of the sponsors. I was the easy choice to cut from the team.” A flash of disappointment crossed her face, speaking volumes.

  “You’re really serious about a career in racing, aren’t you?”

  “I’m as committed to my career as you are to yours.” She shook her head and sighed. “Got a helluva fight on my hands to be taken seriously, though. What with being female and Jack Nash’s daughter. A double strike against me.” She stiffened her spine and set her jaw. “But I will make it.”

  My throat tightened. I’d been so busy assuming Paisley had it easy, I hadn’t considered the other side of the coin. I reached out and touched the back of her hand.

  “There isn’t a doubt in my mind.”

  She strolled around the kitchen counter to where I was standing on the other side, her face arranged in determined fashion. My heart rate jumped up a notch. The scent of her reached me, a mixture of bodywash, very subtle perfume, and her. She trailed her index finger over my chest, down to my abs, before hooking it into the waistband of my jeans. She tugged. I stepped closer.

  “How about a non-garlic snog to kick off the evening?”

  I wanted to. God, I wanted to so fucking much. But every time I decided to go for it, a little warning voice nudged at me. If Jack found out I’d fucked his daughter, I could lose everything. As hot as I found Paisley, she wasn’t worth trashing my career over. There wasn’t a woman walking the earth that I’d trade for racing.

  “Paisley…”

  I didn’t get to say anymore because she leaped into my arms. Her legs clamped around my waist, and she kissed me—and every doubt I had fled.

  I groaned, my hands automatically moving to her ass to hold her in place. Somewhere in the distance, the microwave pinged, but neither of us were interested in food. We were far too busy feasting on each other.

  Our tongues collided, and she sucked mine into her mouth. Fuck. My cock responded enthusiastically, straining to escape the confines of my jeans. She threaded her hands into my hair and pulled, hard. It hurt, in a good way. I returned the favor, fisting her hair and yanking her head backward. I fastened my mouth to her neck and sucked.

&
nbsp; “God, yes, more please,” she gasped. “Harder, Jared. Do it harder.”

  I obliged, secretly thrilled she seemed to like it rough. I wasn’t into pain per se, but a little rough sex turned me on.

  Christ… I’d just admitted we were going to have sex. It might be a stupid thing to do career-wise, but cock-wise, it was the best fucking decision I’d ever made.

  I carried her into my bedroom. Her legs were still clamped around my waist. It boded well that she had thighs of steel.

  I eased her to her feet, noticing a faint hickey where I’d sucked her neck. I gently grazed it with my thumb.

  “I’ve marked you,” I said.

  Breathless, she replied, “And with any luck, you’ll mark me some more.”

  Cupping her face, I tilted back her head. She reached up for a kiss, but I stopped her. “Before we do this, I want to make a couple of things clear. If you decide to walk after I’ve spoken, that’s cool. No hard feelings. There’s no expectation on my part.”

  She scowled at me. “You’re ruining the buzz, Jared.”

  I flashed her a cocky grin. “I guarantee it’ll take me about five seconds to get it back.”

  “Sure of yourself, aren’t you, hotshot?”

  “Yep.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Do your little speech so we can get on with the orgasms.”

  I laughed. Paisley was like no other woman I’d ever met. She didn’t take life seriously, and that included sex. I found that hellishly attractive. Sex should be fun. I wanted to fuck her even more now. I hoped my honesty didn’t scare her away.

  “Firstly, this has to stay strictly between us. No one can find out.”

  She considered my demand for a second and then nodded. “Deal. It’s no one’s business but ours anyway.”

  “Good. Secondly, no drama. I’m going to be completely honest and tell you straight that racing will always come first. The only people I prioritize over racing is my family. Just because we fuck does not give you any rights over me, nor does it give me any over you.”