Friction: Full Velocity Series - Book 1

by Delaney, Tracie

  She frowned. “You’re saying we wouldn’t be exclusive?”

  I shook my head. “That’s not what I’m saying. If this turns into more than a one-time thing, then you will be the only girl I sleep with. I would expect the same monogamy from you as long as we agree this is what we want. But what it does mean is that if it comes to a choice between my career and you, my career wins every time. If you can live with that, then, yeah, I really want to fuck you. Badly.”

  She locked her gaze on to mine, and gently, she rubbed two fingers over her bottom lip. “Y’know, Jared, I’ve lived my whole life aware that a hunk of metal is more important than me. Racing is in Dad’s blood, and there were many times in my childhood where he chose it over me. He missed school plays, parents’ evenings, sports day. But I never once held it against him. Without racing, Dad wouldn’t be the amazing, loving father he is. Fortunately, Mum filled in the gaps, and when Dad was there, he was there, you know? Then, I was number one. Admittedly, that only happened a few weeks a year, but I’m down with that. I know my dad loves me, just not to the exclusion of everything.” She shrugged. “And that’s okay.”

  Paisley’s speech was clearly meant to validate the terms of our relationship in her eyes, but instead, I mourned for her, my gut aching. Every child deserved to be the center of their parents’ world. I’d had that, and so had my brothers and sister. What my mom and dad lacked in material things, they more than made up for in love.

  I’d been wrong about Paisley. She wasn’t a spoiled little rich girl at all. She was poor in all the things that really mattered, far poorer than me. A rush of protectiveness sped through my body. For all her insistence she wasn’t fazed by her upbringing, somewhere on a deep level she hadn’t yet examined, that had to be festering. And by agreeing to play by my rules, wasn’t I just compounding that pain?

  She deserved more than I had to give, deserved better than I was capable of offering.

  Whether she noticed something in my face, or she was just smart enough to realize what affect her revelation might have had, she stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around my neck, and drew me in for a kiss. A long, unhurried kiss that slowly ignited the embers far more than a hot, passionate, clashing-of-teeth kiss would have done.

  “You’re gonna be the death of me,” I muttered against her lips.

  “Not before you make me come,” she said. “Several times.”

  My stomach clenched, desire stronger than I’d felt in a long time tightening the muscles in my abdomen. My heart pounded, thudding against my ribcage. At this rate, I wouldn’t need a gym workout in the morning. One night with Paisley Nash would address all my fitness needs.

  I fisted my hands in the hem of her shirt and yanked it over her head, then did the same with my own. Skin on skin, Paisley’s warm body melded into mine. Sweat broke out along the nape of my neck as I fumbled with the button fly on my pants. I tore them open and yanked them down my legs, kicking them off. They hit the wall behind Paisley, and she giggled.

  “In a hurry?” she asked.

  Ignoring her, I peeled her jeans down her legs. In a copycat move, she followed my lead, launching her jeans against the wall with her feet. An impish grin turned into a broad smile. I didn’t return it, too busy getting an eyeful of the close-as-you’re-ever-gonna-get-to-perfection that was Paisley Nash.

  Her lacy purple bra and matching panties set off her smooth and blemish-free olive skin. Long, lean muscles, taut abdomen, rock-hard thighs. I liked a girl who took pride in her body.

  “You’re fucking beautiful.”

  I curved a hand around the back of her neck and used my thumb under her chin to tip back her head. She parted her lips and swept her tongue over the bottom one. The last of my doubts evaporated, and I captured her mouth with mine.

  Her bra easily came undone, and I slipped it from her shoulders and tossed it aside. The feel of her bare tits against my chest sent blood rushing to my groin. I was a breast man, although Paisley’s legs were going to challenge that belief. And her ass, too. Oh, who was I kidding? Everything about her turned me on from her elfin face and pointy chin to her full lips and athletic body. Not to mention her sassy attitude. That was probably the biggest turn on of all.

  She tucked her hands inside my boxers and squeezed my backside. Slowly, after tracing a finger down the crease of my ass, she circled my butthole.

  I spun her around, fast, my arm braced across her clavicle. I didn’t mind ass play, of mine or the woman’s, but I wasn’t about to let Paisley take overall control in the bedroom.

  Not this time.

  I bit down on her earlobe. “Uh uh, my little Pixie.”

  She tried to wrestle free. I held her tighter.

  “You want to play with my ass, fine, but you’ll do it when I say and on my terms. There’s only one alpha here, sweetheart, and that’s me.”

  Her breathing picked up, my natural dominance clearly exciting her. “We’ll see,” she murmured.

  I picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. She lay there wearing only her panties and a devilish glint in her eye. I crawled over her, caging her with my body. I traced the tip of my tongue between her tits, my eyes on hers.

  “You’re a dirty girl, Princess Paisley,” I said. “Lucky for you, I’m a dirty boy.”

  She bit down on her lip, raking her gaze over me. “Match made in Heaven.”

  I replaced her teeth with my own, nipping hard. She arched her back and at the same time clamped her legs around my waist, using me as leverage to raise herself. She ground her pussy against my cock, rubbing up and down, gaining the friction she needed to get off.

  I tried to slow her down. She tightened her grip. I’d been right about thighs of steel. Jesus, she could crack nuts with those muscles. Ceding any sexual control was a new experience, but as Paisley moved faster and harder, her moans and groans increasing in volume, I almost came. Instead, it was her who came—loudly.

  “Oh Christ,” she called out, her body twitching and shaking with the force of her orgasm.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her face. Paisley climaxed beautifully, her expression one of bliss, her eyes closed, her rosy lips parted.

  With a sigh, she opened her eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a while. I really needed that.”

  Jealousy surged through me at the idea of her with another guy, which was a shock to say the least because I hadn’t been aware I gave a shit. I covered up my surprise with a joke. “I think you’ve broken a couple of my ribs.”

  She grinned. “Yoga, Pilates, and deadlifts,” she said by way of explanation.

  I hooked my fingers into her panties and drew them down her legs. She was completely bare, not even a landing strip. I liked that. Better for going down.

  “Take your boxers off,” she said. “I like the feel of your cock, now I want to see it.”

  I did as she asked. My cock sprang free, the tip red and angry-looking. I couldn’t remember the last time it felt this hard, the combination of being with a woman for the first time, that the woman in question was Paisley, but most of all, her sassy mouth was the thing that turned me on the most.

  I fucking loved it.

  She gripped me, hard, and slid her hand up and down my length. Once. I groaned at the sensation, and my cock jerked.

  “You feel good, Jared,” she said. “I knew you would. Like steel wrapped in the softest silk.”

  I’d never been one for flowery language, and neither was Paisley if I’d read her right, but something about the two of us in that moment, it fit, you know? It didn’t come off as cheesy. It was sexy.

  I had planned to go down on her, but looking at her, lying there, her legs spread, her pussy on display all glistening and wet, I caved. Leaning across her, I open my nightstand drawer and removed a condom. I’d love to bareback her, to feel her velvet walls clamping on to my cock, but I didn’t take risks. If this thing turned into more than a couple of hot sex sessions, then I’d suggest we got checked out. Until then, it was rubber all the way.


  I parted her folds with the head of my cock and pushed inside. I wasn’t gentle, and from her vocal response, she didn’t mind the rough entry. She lifted her hips and met me thrust for thrust. She scored her nails down my back, and even though hers weren’t exactly talons, I’d definitely have marks in the morning.

  I changed positions, me on my back and her on top. She rode me; her tits bouncing, her breath coming in pants.

  I pressed my forefinger to her lips. “Suck,” I ordered.

  She did, pulling me deep into her mouth, giving me a taste of what it might feel like to shove my cock between those plump lips.

  I shook off the visual. Another few seconds of allowing my mind to go there and I’d come. I took my finger out of her mouth, parted her ass cheeks, and slid the tip inside. A purposeful move to reassert my dominance after her earlier boldness.

  “Okay?” I asked.

  She gasped. “Yes, Jesus, yes.” She rode me harder.

  Her willingness to experiment, to trust me enough to let me finger her ass tightened my balls. I was ready to explode far earlier than I’d like, but as her body detonated into another orgasm, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “Oh God,” I gritted out between clenched teeth, squeezing my eyes shut, concentrating on the rush of pleasure.

  Paisley collapsed onto my chest, both of us slick with sweat. I held her close, which wasn’t the norm for me. Usually, after I’d come, I couldn’t wait to go clean up and remove every trace of the woman I’d been intimate with.

  She moved, but I didn’t want her to get off me yet, so I tensed my arms.

  “Tell me if I get too heavy,” she said.

  I snorted in response. “As if.”

  She lifted her head and rested her chin on my chest. “I knew you’d be great in bed.”

  Paisley

  I dropped my fork and relaxed back in the chair. Sex always made me hungry, and two rounds with Jared plus four orgasms left me starved.

  I pointed my chin at his empty plate. “What did I tell you? The best curry this side of the river.”

  He opened another beer for me, but I noticed he didn’t take one for himself. “With a gazillion bad calories baked right there into the sauce.”

  “Pah. You’ll work that off in the gym in no time.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve had a pretty good workout tonight.”

  I snorted. “Rubbish. You lay on your back and let me do all the work.”

  He rolled back his shoulders, thrust his chest forward, and cracked his knuckles. “As it should be, wench.”

  I laughed. Post-coital Jared was so much fun. More relaxed somehow. After clearing away the plates, I stacked them in his dishwasher.

  “Feel up to going out for a few hours?” I asked.

  He shot me a suspicious look. “Where?”

  I grinned. “Dancing.”

  “I don’t dance.”

  “Okay, then let’s call it rubbing up against each other in a public, very crowded place, with music playing.”

  “I like the rubbing idea.”

  I held out my hand. “Then let’s go.”

  He remained seated. “We can’t, Paise. People might recognize me, and then I’d have a whole lot of explaining to do to your dad. We agreed to be discreet.”

  I grabbed his wrist and tugged until he stood. “I know just the place. Trust me, no one will notice you, or care if they do.”

  It was obvious I hadn’t convinced him. His uncertainty was right there in his narrowed eyes, wrinkled brow, and set jaw.

  “I wouldn’t suggest this if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure it’s all gravy.”

  “Gravy?”

  I laughed. “Lost in translation. It means it’s fine. Good. No problemo. If you’re still not happy when we get there, we’ll leave. ’Kay?”

  He still didn’t appear totally down with my idea, but when he sighed, it had enough resignation in it for me to know I’d won.

  “Great,” I said, grabbing my purse.

  The place I had in mind was an old haunt from my university days, a warehouse north of the river. The kind of joint that probably got raided in the nineteen-eighties for illegal raves, but now, it was a legitimate nightclub that had a good rep.

  Jared pulled a baseball cap low over his eyes on the cab ride over there, but he needn’t have worried. The driver wasn’t the least bit interested in his passengers.

  He drew to a halt directly outside the club. Jared handed over the fare, and we climbed out. Music leaked from inside the building—loud, booming—the walls of the old rickety warehouse almost shaking from the heavy bass beat.

  Jared glanced around, pulling a face. “What the hell is this place?”

  I clutched his hand and dragged him toward the entrance. “Trust me. You’re gonna love it.”

  We stepped inside, our ears immediately assaulted by the volume. The place was packed, and bodies crammed together on the dance floor with barely an inch between them. Overhead pipework crisscrossed the ceiling, and along one wall was an enormous bar with staff running around like crazy, trying in vain to keep up with the incessant demand.

  “Let’s get a drink,” I yelled in Jared’s ear.

  He shook his head. “In training, remember? One beer is my limit.”

  “No more alcohol. Just water.” I winked. “It’s gonna get steamy in here, hotshot.”

  Jared laughed. He curved a hand around my neck which, if it was any other guy, I’d see it as a proprietorial move and probably shake them off. I wasn’t the submissive type, but with Jared, instead of irking me, my skin tingled in delight at his possessive touch.

  We downed a glass of water, and then, despite his ‘I don’t dance’ mantra, as soon as I finally got Jared onto the dance floor, I discovered that was a big fat lie. Because, boy, could he move. He had amazing hip action, which I shouldn’t have been too surprised at given the excellent demonstration in bed earlier.

  The crowded dance floor gave me a great excuse to plaster myself onto his body, and I took full advantage. We were so close I could feel the outline of every single muscle on his taut frame. I wrapped my arms around his neck and, in moves that the directors of Dirty Dancing would be proud of, we lost ourselves, driven not to care by the strobe lights, the beat of the music, and the electricity zinging off the other clubbers. Within minutes, we were drenched in sweat. My hair clung to my head, and I must have looked a mess, but if the depth of hunger in Jared’s eyes was anything to go by, he didn’t agree.

  His lips hovered over mine, that decadent chocolate gaze churning my insides until he’d turned me into nothing more than a puddle of need, want, and fuck-me-now-and-screw-the-consequences desire. Jared Kane would never be mine. He’d stated it clearly enough earlier. His one true love was a racing car. But—and this was where some women might lose respect for me—I. Didn’t. Care. I accepted my position in second place, because the way he made me feel was worth every future crack he would undoubtedly put in my heart. A night in Jared’s arms was worth a lifetime with most other guys on the planet. That was an exaggeration… I hadn’t met even a fraction of the male population living on Earth, but it didn’t matter. I stood by my belief.

  I took a breath a millisecond before his mouth crashed down on mine. Jared wasn’t the soft and cuddly type. The way he’d screwed me earlier told me that. Fine by me. I’d take rough over gentle any day of the week.

  I climbed up his body until my thighs were clamped around his hips. His erection was right where I needed it, although I’d give my right kidney to get rid of the jeans and ride him bare. It didn’t matter that we were in a public place. Half the crowd were doing exactly what we were. Dry humping the one they were with.

  With Jared’s cock rubbing against my sensitive clit, I congratulated myself on those hours of yoga which gave me rock-hard thighs. Jared helped, mind you. His hands were firmly on my backside, holding me in place. But even if he let go, I’d still get the orgasm heading my way with the power of a frei
ght train.

  Jared’s tongue fucked my mouth while I moved faster and faster. The familiar swell grew in my core, but with him it was a hundred times more intense than with any other guy I’d been with. The music faded into the background as though someone had turned the volume down, even though it still pounded out of the enormous speakers at the same rate. And then I was falling, falling so goddamn hard. I tore my mouth from his, my head rolling backward. I inadvertently bit down on my lip. The metallic taste of blood poured into my mouth, but I didn’t care.

  Because that was bloody awesome.

  Jared curved a hand around the back of my neck, much as he had earlier. He touched his forehead to mine. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, my legs still firmly clamped around his waist. Slowly, he lowered me to the floor, making sure our bodies remained connected.

  A rush of… something… forced air from my lungs and compressed my heart. I didn’t recognize the sensation, but it drove me to feel reckless, crazy, stupid. Gratified. Sated. I had an insane need to return the favor. To drag Jared into the nearest restroom, or alcove, or right here in the middle of the dance floor. To unzip his jeans, drop them to his knees, and suck the hell out of his cock.

  I slipped my hand inside his and towed him through the crowds, my focus on the pink neon sign signaling the place that’d give me enough privacy to do what I was desperate to. He didn’t question where we were going.

  We’d almost reached my target. Almost. And then Jared stopped dead, so fast he nearly yanked my arm out of my socket. I spun around. His gaze was fixed on a point in the distance, his mouth ever so slightly ajar. I tracked where his attention had fallen.

  I was not happy. Nope. Not one bit.

  The woman who caught his attention was blonde, voluptuous, absolutely gorgeous. She was wearing this almost see-through dress, with black filigree fig leaves covering the main parts. It finished about three inches below her arse, and had a black band around the waist. She’d finished the outfit off with high-heeled shoes in a deep crimson. The only thing that allowed me a modicum of calm was the fact she was draped around this big dude with a beard to rival Albus Dumbledore, and enough tattoos to cause a tattoo parlor to run out of ink.