Slip Up (Taking Chances Book 3)

by TC Matson

  He lifts both hands up in a soft surrender. “Wasn’t even thinking about it.”

  “I’m going to take a shower,” Amelia says and kisses my cheek.

  She’s glowing. At least to me she is. Maybe it’s because I know. Maybe it’s because we admitted our feelings.

  “It’s nice meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Brad thrums.

  Amelia smiles politely. “Yeah,” she says but I hear the yeah right in it. I chuckle as she disappears back into the bedroom.

  “You hit victory, dude. How did something like you manage something like that?” he hisses.

  “Talent,” I wink and take another swallow of my beer. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other things I’d rather be doing.” The hidden innuendo in my voice is loud and clear.

  Amelia is getting her things when I come into the bedroom. Stepping behind her, I splay my hand across her stomach and pull her against my chest, kissing along the exposed skin of her neck. She tilts her head to the side and moans, dropping her clothes and running her hand over mine.

  “You’re glowing,” I whisper against her ear.

  A shiver runs down her body and she presses her ass into my dick. “I woke up horny,” she admits bravely even though her voice doesn’t match.

  Keeping her back to my chest, I slide my hand under the waistband of her shorts and down to her pussy. My fingers slide through her slit, feeling how wet she already is for me. I grin against her skin and bite gently as I press my fingers into her.

  She moans quietly, rocking on my hand. Using my other hand, I shove her shorts down her thighs and she finishes the rest of the way for me while I discard of my shorts. Guiding her, I put her knees on the edge of the bed and press her forward. She’s a glorious sight—on all fours, creamy white ass in the air.

  Fisting my cock, I ease in, giving her a minute to adjust. I grip the sides of her hips and begin to plunge deeper, further, harder watching my dick be swallowed by her pussy, her slick heat glistening. Her back drops as she gyrates her ass to meet my thrusts. She grips the sheets, her moans loud—erotic music to my ears and it only fuels me. Long strokes are a nightmare, threatening—no, promising—an early release. I reach around and press my thumb to her clit, massaging it and then pinching. She cries out breathless and panting. Her body lurches forward and then slams back.

  “Declan…too much…I can’t…” she gasps and then shatters.

  I pump into her, leaning back and driving long torturous strokes. She’s writhing, begging, and mewling for me. Hot lava burns my skin, settling down low in my stomach. My eyes slam shut. My teeth clench. We come together, our worlds bending off their axes in a blissful intoxication. My fingers dig into her skin as I spill into her, my hips forgetting how to work momentarily as I buck like a virgin. Nothing, no one, has ever felt this perfect, this…enthralling.

  She falls forward, still panting, and I drop to her side onto my back.

  “The things you to do to me,” I say trying to contain my breath.

  She hums, pushing up to her elbows, and leans to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to shower.”

  I watch her ass cheeks lift and fall as she exits the room and then roll my eyes to the ceiling. I was in love once, young love. The pure kind. But my mind wasn’t focused on a future with her. Instead I was constantly thinking and working hard to become a driver, which meant I left her in the dark. She was always alone and I couldn’t blame her when she decided she’d had enough. Her leaving broke me. Yes, I continued with my career, living life to the fullest, but my heart? I couldn’t give it away if I tried.

  Then Amelia… And in the little time I’ve known her, she’s toppled down my walls and inserted herself into my soul, not just my heart. It isn’t scary. I’m madly in love with her. Funny how fate seems to put two people together at the same place at the right time.

  NINETEEN

  Growing up, I always pictured being married differently. A simple life, a white picket fence, a few kids playing on a swing set out back, and a dog. Instead, I’m met with constant change—a home in Alabama and one traveling, loudness, continual talk about races and everything involved. It’s Declan’s life many months out of the year and one I’ve been adapting to.

  It’s not as bad as it sounds. Declan’s been amazing, doing little things when he’s not having to fulfill his other obligations. He’ll squeeze in a quick kiss and run back out the door, but every night I’m in his arms.

  We’ve grown closer while settling into the routine. Norman shows up at six o’clock sharp to follow Declan around like a dog. Except Norman’s an asshole and doesn’t speak or look at me unless he has to. Most dogs like a good ear rub. Not Norman.

  I didn’t go to his race last week or any of his other functions. Not yet. I’m not there yet. I like the slowness that anonymity has provided me. I spend a lot of time doing nothing and enjoying it. I’ll text with Kirsten, sometimes I’ll relax with a book or watch TV, and other times, I’m pre-studying. Yes. Pre studying for my next semester. I stay pretty busy and my antisocial introvert likes it.

  Waking up earlier than Declan, I sneak into the kitchen on a mission to make him some breakfast and coffee before Norman shows up and drags him out the door. Today he’s scheduled to sign autographs at a local grocery store with his truck for a few hours.

  I’m scrambling the eggs when I feel him and glance over my shoulder. His devilish smirk and lazy swagger wake the butterflies in my stomach.

  “Morning,” he chirps, as bright as ever.

  I’m a decent morning person. I don’t wake up ready to kill the world, and I don’t need coffee to smile. But it does take me a little bit to become sociable enough to deal with people. But Declan? He wakes up, springs out of bed and is ready to greet the world with a smile. If our son turns out like that, I may lose my mind.

  Coming up behind me, he kisses the crook of my neck and splays his hand over my small baby bump hidden underneath his t-shirt. “Good morning to you too, little guy.” I love, love when he speaks to our child. What it does to my heart is incredible. “What are you doing up so early?”

  “I wanted to feed you before your bulldog showed up and dragged you away.” I spin around in his arms and stretch a kiss to him. “Plus, I’m starving.”

  His eyes beam. “You should go shopping and grab some lunch today. Take Chuck. He’ll show you around.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He exhales through his nose and slams a kiss to my mouth. I reach around him and grab his coffee cup bringing it between us. The spark that lights in his eyes makes me do the small things right back. The way he lights up, like he’s never been treated right, swells my chest.

  He takes a sip and grins. “I don’t deserve you, Amelia Dawn Palmer.”

  Not long after we share a breakfast of eggs, sausage, and toast, Norman storms in and steals my thunder, ripping Declan away to meet his obligations.

  I’m sitting on the couch watching Anchorman for the hundredth time in my life when there’s a knock at the door and bald Chuck’s head rises as he climbs the steps.

  “I was told you and I had a date with the city.”

  Chuck looks like he could take on about ten guys at once while never standing to his feet. He’s large, muscular, and mean looking, opposite of what I know of him.

  “Declan set us up?”

  “That he did,” he chuckles as he takes a seat in the recliner. His body makes it look like it belongs in an elementary school with fifty-pound kids sitting in it.

  “I’m not really in the mood,” I admit, pausing the movie.

  “You’re going to go stir crazy. These walls aren’t too far apart as it is, so when they close in on you, it’ll be quick.”

  I pull my legs under me. “Truthfully, I like the downtime. It’s quiet and gives me the time I don’t have at home to sit and do absolutely nothing. Now I know that doesn’t sound appealing to you all, but I don’t need the adrenaline high.”

  He scratches his cheek.
“Your definition of fun sounds boring.”

  I giggle. “Declan says the same thing.”

  His brow raises. “He’s happy, you know. You’ve brought out a true smile in him. One that radiates. It looks good on both of you.”

  My cheeks start to heat up. “Thanks.” My mind wanders to the dark places it likes to take trips to sometimes and I involuntarily ask the question I’ve often thought of. “Does he… did he bring a lot of girls here?”

  Chuck blinks.

  My head shakes back and forth quickly. “I don’t know where that came from. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just…he doesn’t talk about his past.”

  Chuck’s silent for a moment. He looks around, glancing to the floor, the TV, his hands, and stopping at the wall. “That’s because he doesn’t much have one. He was serious with a girl, but she couldn’t handle the demands racing came with. They fizzled.” His eyes still haven’t landed on me. “If he did have other girls, he never brought them here. As far as I know, and I’ve been with him since he started, you’re the only woman he’s brought here.”

  I don’t know why I wanted to know—morbid curiosity, I guess. It could’ve gone either way and devastated me, which would’ve been stupid because he’s allowed to have a past. Except, hearing he’s only been serious with one girl and their relationship was ruined over his career choices kind of breaks my heart. Was he devastated? Has he been hurting since? I don’t voice my concerns.

  “You realize I broke bro-code, right? Don’t you tell him I said that.”

  The seriousness in his voice causes a giggle to bubble out of me. “Of course. I would never.”

  He nods.

  The door to the RV opens and Declan springs up the stairs in his race suit. The top half is unzipped and tied around his waist. When his eyes land on me, it’s clear he wasn’t expecting me to still be here.

  “What are you doing here?” There’s no anger in his tone. “I thought I told you to go do something. Anything.”

  I bite my smile. “I am doing something. Chuck and I are talking about the movie.”

  His gaze slides to Chuck, who only shrugs, and then he stalks to me. Cupping my face in his hands, he slams a kiss to my mouth. “You’re going to go stir crazy, baby. Trust me. Go out. Sight see.”

  “I didn’t feel like it.”

  “Fine,” he grumbles. “Get dressed then. You’re coming with me.”

  My eyes narrow curiously. “Where are we going?”

  His brow arches and a wolfish grin slides over his sexy lips. “To the garage.” He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet.

  Chuck crosses his arms over his chest, chuckling under his breath. When I playfully glare at him, he lifts a shoulder. “She declined my date offer.”

  I won’t lie. I’m excited and a whole lot of nervous. I know Declan is NRA’s star in the truck series. It’s not hard to miss. He’s used to the spotlight, but I’m not. I’m used to walking down the quiet sidewalks and minding my own business without everyone else in it. With him? It’s not like that. I couldn’t believe the number of people who are into racing. I mean, I get NASCAR, but this is smaller. Or so I thought. Silly girl… Fans are everywhere. Crowding the area designated for them. All wearing their favorite driver on their shirts and hats. Some have small flags with their drivers’ colors and numbers, checkered flags, half naked girls.

  It’s a world I knew nothing about, let alone knew existed.

  “Palmer,” his name is called the second we set foot into the fan zone, grabbing the attention of everyone around us.

  Declan squeezes my hand but keeps trekking forward toward the garages.

  “Declan. Braun Irwin with CAT sports. Is this your wife?” The guy is tall, broad, like an upside-down bowling pin. He shoves a recorder in our faces. “Is it true you married her in Vegas?”

  Declan doesn’t respond.

  The man rushes to get in front of us and I can feel the frustration rolling off him. “Come on, man.” He drops the recorder to his side, taking steps backward. “Everyone has been talking. You know it. You’ve heard the whispers. At least let your fans know something.”

  “Rumors are rumors,” Declan responds impatiently. “She’s with me. And personally, that’s all I think is anyone’s business.”

  Annoyance blazes from Braun as he shifts his attention and moves to my side. “Any comments? How’d you meet him?”

  Declan rips open the door and I’m tugged inside with a loud thud of the metal slamming behind us. Except it’s not as loud as the chaos in front of me. Loud piercing noises from the air tools scream combined with the hollers from men and large industrial fans humming. Immediately, my senses are overwhelmed.

  Declan’s spot—I guess is what you call it—is halfway across the garage. He introduces me to the team, the mechanics, all the pit crew members, and his crew chief. All their names whiz through one ear and out the other as they zip past me.

  I’ve never seen a race car up close, let alone a truck. Of course, I’ve seen them on TV, but in person they look…intimidating. Smooth black paint and neon orange zigzags start at the front fender and stretches across the body of the truck, ending at the bed with a shit ton of stickers and the number ninety large on the door. I’m assuming his biggest sponsor is what’s stickered on his hood.

  I shift on my feet, not daring to get any closer as I try to peer into it. There’s not a steering wheel where one should go. Metal tubing encases the black driver’s seat that looks so tight, it’s claustrophobic. I tiptoe for a better view of the gauges and switches lining the dash.

  Declan is leaned in close, talking to Cale, his crew chief, who gestures a lot with his hands. Declan nods as he listens and then shifts his gaze to me and smirks. He looks confident in his space, relaxed as everything speeds by him. He’s in his element and I’m far, so far away from mine.

  TWENTY

  “Don’t be nervous,” Declan says, sounding calm as he shoves his sunglasses on top of his head.

  After getting a glimpse of his world yesterday, he practically begged me to come to his race today because “I looked sexy as hell being there.” How do you say no to that? I couldn’t. Declan said I could sit in the pit box with Cale and listen in on their radio communication. I agreed because truthfully, I want to learn why Declan loves it so much.

  He clutches my hand as we step out of the RV, and we start toward the golf cart where Chuck waits for us. Suddenly, another golf cart pops around the corner nearly plowing us down. Declan jerks, stumbling into me and knocking me to the ground.

  “Are you okay?” he rushes to help me up.

  I nod, dusting the dirt from my ass and trying to hide the embarrassment from my cheeks.

  “I am so sorry. I didn’t see you.” A young guy with a bright neon vest shoots out of the golf cart toward us.

  I shake my head. “It’s fine.”

  “What the fuck, man? The track is that way,” Declan tips his chin with rage blazing from his eyes.

  “I know. I shouldn’t have been going that fast. I’m so sorry.” I know he has to be at least twenty-one to work here, but he doesn’t look a day over seventeen.

  “It was an accident,” I say, breaking the rage fuming from Declan. “Just be careful next time.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry again.”

  Declan’s anger shifts, morphing into concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I nod, but something doesn’t feel right.

  From the side, I watch Declan in his pre-race interview, answering questions from a room full of reporters—sports channels and magazines—ranging from his thoughts about the track, his transition in becoming a truck series superstar, and a few about his race here last year. He looks completely comfortable holding the microphone and sitting at the table alone.

  Something in my stomach pinches and it shoots a burning feeling across my abdomen. I shake it off, continuing to listen. After the interview, he’s led to an area where fans are lined up behind black gates w
aiting for their drives, and I’m led by Cale to the pit box.

  He helps me up the steep steps, each of them sending a searing pain through me, but I say nothing.

  “You’ll hear everything. Dave, the spotter, Declan. Me.” Cale hands a headset to me and smiles. “You can talk to him too, but if it can wait, make it. He’s working and needs to focus on winning and not wrecking.”

  Wrecking… That thought has never crossed my mind. “Does he wreck a lot?” I ask.

  Cale’s lips tightens, his mouth twisting to the side as he shakes his head. “He’s too busy leading to deal with what’s behind him.”

  Pride splits my face and I beam back to Cale.

  Once the pre-race ceremonies finish and I get back to the box with Cale, I watch as Declan gets situated in his truck. I’m fascinated with stars in my eyes as the sexy man I get to call my husband buckles in. This is my life now. Ordinary girl with the most extraordinary man.

  The trucks start and ear-splitting rumbles thunder through the ground, vibrating the air around me. The sound is so loud is swallows me into a deafening hole. A slice flashes across my stomach and penetrates my spine, stealing my breath. Tears sting my eyes as I try breathing through the sear. I’ve read that you can cramp when your uterus expands, but nothing says it should be this painful. But then again, when I was younger my menstrual cramps used to double me over.

  A few laps and the gnawing ache in my stomach sends a scalding laceration through me again. I grit my teeth, slamming my eyes shut and try to breathe through it. Something isn’t right.

  “I’m going back to the RV. I’m not feeling well,” I lean to Cole.

  He nods. “I’ll tell D when—”

  Adamantly, I shake my head, placing my hand on his arm. “Don’t. He’ll worry. Let him race. I’ll see him after.”

  My legs wobble when I stand up, the pain stabbing me, but I plaster on a fake smile. My nerves kick in as I reach the fan zone, scared that I’ll be spotted and stopped. The last thing I need is to be bombarded with questions without Declan to buffer some of them. Thankfully, they’re glued to the track and the screens in front of them.