by Shey Stahl
I started to grow impatient and I think Rager could sense it by the way I never sat down and stood leaning against Axel’s car. Willie came up to me, asking if I’d seen Tommy.
“No. He’s your playmate.”
“Well, don’t make it sound like that.” Willie jerked his head back, clearly offended. “We’re not like a couple.”
“Some would argue that.” Eyeing him carefully, I let my gaze return to Rager who was now watching Willie and me. “You’re always together.”
Willie was probably attractive at one time. For being in his late thirties, he still wasn’t bad looking, but when you had a guy like Rager around, he wasn’t even a comparison. Though Willie was incredibly entertaining. If only he’d stop showing people his dick. I’d seen it too many times to really be affected by it anymore.
I gave Rager this look that said, “Seriously dude!” Letting him know I was ready to sneak way.
Trying to hide his smile, he winked, his beer in hand raising to his lips.
Willie nudged my ribs. “Think he’s winking at me?”
“And you wonder why people think you’re with Tommy.”
THE PITS STARTED to clear out and about four haulers left by the time I snuck between Rager and Casten’s haulers in the shadows to wait to see if he’d come find me, not wanting to be obvious.
Generators hummed, tools clanked. Fans, crew members, and drivers lingered in the pits of River Cities Speedway.
And there was me, phone in hand, constantly checking to see if he’d message me that he wanted to meet up. Standing outside his hauler made me think about our time together in there, hours ago and how we fell off the table.
As I paced, cautiously remaining in the darkness between the haulers, I heard footsteps behind me.
I smiled.
I waited.
I anticipated.
And when I felt his warmth, I melted.
“Where ya headin?” he asked low, the roughness in his voice rumbled against my back, sending my breathing into a spin like a sprint car sliding through a corner, on the edge, on the brink of being out of control.
Turning around, I grinned, slow, seductive, anything to lead him on. “I promised a boy I’d be waiting here for him.”
“Mmmm. Sounds dirty.” His head dipped forward and buried in my neck, his scruff tickle-scraping my skin.
“He is, for sure.” My lids lowered, his body completely in line with mine now. I couldn’t make his features out completely once I was leaning into the hauler, but I knew he was about to kiss me.
Dragging his hands up the sides of my body, nothing else mattered but his body touching mine.
He was out of his racing suit and in street clothes, hair still damp from sweat. His army green cargo shorts hung low on his hips and I knew if I lifted the white t-shirt he was wearing, I’d be met with those same sharp lines I worshiped with my mouth the other night.
Just before his lips met mine, laughter and commotion caught our attention, both of us turning to see a cooler dumped on Axel in celebration of his win.
Rager drew back, winking at me. “Meet me by the bathrooms.”
“That’s not sexy.”
“Just meet me there in ten minutes.” With a quick kiss, one that left me wanting more, he left. Walking around the back of the hauler and to the boys celebrating. I tiptoed around the front and tried to remain in the shadows so no one would know.
I had rode over to the track with my parents and I desperately wanted my purse for some gum. Sneaking over to their truck, I was able to grab a piece and then return to the pits and wait by the porta-potty. I could see the JAR boys living it up in the pits, drinking and laughing. Rager stood back, another beer in hand, but kept looking the direction of the bathrooms every couple minutes.
Was he thinking of me?
Was it everything he could do to stand there and not come over here like it was for me?
Distracting myself, I stared down at my phone, deleting emails.
He snuck up behind me, his arms spinning me around to haul me over his shoulder. “I thought you weren’t coming.” I screeched.
“I’m about to make you come.” He slapped my ass, hard.
Laughing, I felt like a kid again, flirting with him in the pits of the Chili Bowl when I was sixteen
When we reached the line of busses, he stopped.
“There’s a bus over there.” Rager gave a nod to the shadows and the row of busses that lined the pits. “Come with me.”
“You’re carrying me. Pretty sure I don’t have a choice.”
“You never had a choice anyway.”
I’d seen the busses before, and they freaked me out. The guys raced them on occasions, even my dad had, but no way did I want to get in one myself.
They looked haunted, if you asked me. Painted bright red, yellow, blue, purple, you name it and they had it along with spray painted names on the side. Apparently they were named after the high school that donated the bus to the track.
There was about ten of them out there, some hidden, and others not so much.
“Which one?”
“Blue?” he teased, twisting his head to bite my hip where my tank top had revealed bare skin; his teeth sinking it lightly, but enough that it made me jump in his arms. “It’s the color of my balls right now.”
Refusing to let me down, he carried me over to the blue one and stepped up after moving me to around his waist, instead of over his shoulder.
“These things are trashed,” I noted, looking around at the dirt and spray paint everywhere. No doubt there were a few living animals making homes in these.
Rager nodded, not caring about any of that. He went back two rows and sat down on the left side of the bus with me on his lap.
Laughing at his eagerness, he was yanking away my tank top and then his shirt over his head. Letting it fall away, he paused; his mouth, which was on my neck, moved to my mouth. Finally. His tongue ran along the seam of my lips. Mine parted, tasting of beer. He smelled so good; I breathed in deep—dirt, boy, methanol, oil—all the smells I loved so much.
My hands rose from his shoulders to his hair, threading and tugging.
Rager groaned into my mouth, his tongue going deeper. “You’ve been driving me crazy all day with your sexy body. Do you know how hard it is to race with a hard-on?”
“Race me. Now.” Rocking against him in an attempt to get him going, I discovered he was hard already. Placing his right hand on my chest, he pushed my upper body back. I arched away, rolling my hips into him. Raising my arms over my head, Rager’s head dipped forward, his mouth latching onto my nipples, hot, wet…
The way his tongue moved, the way his hands gripped my ass over my shorts, I couldn’t help but continue to rock my hips into him. He wanted it just as much, his hips rising off the seat, tiny grunts escaping him as he dragged my hips over his erection.
The friction had me moaning, remembering how easy it was for me to get off with his hands on me.
In an act of annoyance that we weren’t having sex yet, Rager’s hands moved from my backside to my waist and to the button of my shorts.
Up on my knees, I helped him out and unbuttoned them. When I had them undone, I steadied my hands on the tops of his shoulders and stood on the seat.
He watched, hands traveling up my thighs, over my hips, and fisting the denim between his fingers and palms, pausing.
Looking down at him, his stare caught mine.
Despite the lack of lighting in there, the blue was evident, lighting up his face.
His knuckles dragged over my skin as he pulled my shorts down my legs and threw them on the floor.
With my hands on the ceiling, my weight shifted to my right leg, giving Rager a long look at my naked body, hoping he enjoyed the view. Well, what he could make out with the lack of light.
Pressing his ear to the inside of my thigh, he turned his head, his mouth on my skin and hands on my legs. I never seemed prepared for his touch; I jumped a little each time
at the electricity it carried, the thrill it gave me to have his hands on me in this way.
I wasn’t sure what he was going to do when his tongue darted out and made contact with my inner thigh, but then made a lazy path with his mouth to my center.
His right hand patted his shoulder. “Put your leg over my shoulder.”
When I didn’t, his head laid back against the seat, staring up at me.
Glancing around, I ducked my head forward to see if anyone was around. I was standing naked on a bus. Couldn’t get much more awkward.
“Don’t deny me,” he whispered, his breath skating over my skin. I felt his lips first gentle, then his tongue finding my skin again, and my thighs wanted to clench in anticipation.
Okay, so you’re buck naked on a dingy bus about to put your foot on his shoulder so he can do what?
Put your fucking leg on his shoulder!
So I did.
And I was so thankful I did when his mouth lingered on the inside of my left thigh, both hands on me now gripping my ass tight in the palms of his hands.
“Look at that,” his eyes went wild with desire as he scooted down in the seat for a better angle. “Your pussy is practically dripping for me.” Inhaling, long and deep, he bit the inside of my thigh. “I can smell you and the methanol. Such a perfect combination.”
Fuck. Just fuck.
With a push forward, his mouth met my center, tongue lapping at my clit.
Tossing my head back, one of my hands threading in his thick hair, the other helping me maintain balance by resting on the ceiling. I really couldn’t believe we were doing this.
He teased me at first, bringing me to the edge, then pulling back, knowing exactly when to lift. Each time he felt the muscles in my thighs tense, he drew back, slowing the motions of his ever talented tongue.
Finally I yanked on his hair, my body hovering on the brink of my orgasm. “Stop that.”
Smiling against me, his tongue darted out again, curling on the end to flick my sensitive nerve endings once, and then sucked it in his mouth. Moving my hips the best I could, I basically fucked his face on a bus.
I felt fucking dirty after that, but enjoyed the hell out of it.
My lips parted in a gasp when the sensations hit me, blinding…shivers moving from the backs of my thighs, higher…
My thoughts drifted, my eyes closed as I whimpered, so good, so right…my release was sudden, without warning, as I gasped in pleasure.
Sex with Rager couldn’t be defined as just sex. No way.
Flattening out his tongue, he made one more pass over my throbbing center, his eyes penetrating mine as he watched me fall apart for him.
Pushing back, I let out a breathy laugh and dropped my foot from his shoulder. With his eyes still on mine, his hands lowered from my legs to the button of his shorts. When he had them undone, he raised his hips up to slide them down to his ankles, leaving him naked and ready for me.
I didn’t move. Instead I stood there, staring at him, giving him a sense of the teasing he gave me.
Angling his head to the side, he leaned it back against the seat and stared up at me, lust stricken and needy. To tease me, his left hand went to his dick, stroking it from tip to base slowly.
When I didn’t move, he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, licking away my scent that lingered there. I winked at him.
“I need to be inside you…right now,” he said, a growl of lust noted in his tone. “Don’t make me beg.”
Slowly, I dropped down, my knees on either side of him. Grinding down on him once, I savored the feeling it gave me to slide down his rock hard dick and the moan that left his lips.
Gripping me under my ass, he lifted me up enough to slide himself inside me. After, he groaned. “I forgot a condom.”
I drew back, glaring. “Like you don’t have one?”
“No,” he chuckled, leaning back to reach in the front pocket of his shorts at his ankles “I just forgot to put it on.”
Ripping the package open with his teeth, because God forbid he let go of me with both hands. The thought that he couldn’t keep his hands off me was thrilling.
After he had the condom on, I smiled at him.
“How the hell do you make that so sexy?
He shrugged. “Ride me, baby.” Breathing out slowly, his mouth finding mine again.
I’d ride him all right.
Lifting myself up on my knees, I nearly slid him out all the way before slamming back down on him, our thighs slapping together.
He lifted his hips up to meet my every thrust. With one hand wrapped around my waist, he ground me into him, the other one around the back of my neck with my hair fisted between his white knuckles.
My boobs bounced, my ass bounced, I bounced on Rager. He had himself buried deep inside me, growling and cursing, like he was losing control.
I was glad I’d gotten off when his mouth was on me because just then his legs straightened out, his shoes sliding against the dirt clad floor, searching for leverage. Leaning his head back against the seat again, his eyes closed and I could tell by the way he twitched inside me, he was close. His movements became jerky, his only thoughts coming at that point.
Watching in utter amazement, his chest and stomach flexed, hands gripping my hips with harshness as he moved me faster, becoming desperate. His breathing turned to gasping and I’d never felt more overwhelmed with sensations running rampant through me as I watched this, me riding him and bringing him to release and him so far gone he couldn’t even breathe let alone open his eyes.
“Fuck…” he mumbled, slamming into me one last time, his hips raised off the seat. My knees slid against the roughness of the rubber seat, tearing skin with it. It burned, badly and I knew that was another mark I’d have in memory of this.
Collapsing against Rager’s chest, his arms wrapped around me tightly.
Panting out breaths against my shoulder, Rager’s chest moved rapidly, trying to control his breathing. His forehead laid against my shoulder for a moment, before I pulled back and looked down at him. Lying his head back against the seat, his tipped a little, twisting to the side as he watched me.
A rush of emotion came over me suddenly and my eyes burned. I hated that feeling because it felt like I wanted to cry, and that was the last thing I wanted to do right now.
His left hand rose, cupping my cheek, but he didn’t lean in for a kiss, he just stared at me, emotions running wild in his eyes. Through his rapid breathing, I knew what that look was.
Love.
Giving up.
Letting go.
Giving in.
Our breathing was starting to even out, my heart pressing to his chest, his lips on my skin, feather light touches I wanted forever, when I heard the low hollow rumble of someone snoring. Jumping in his arms, the both of us searched for the sound.
“What the hell is that?”
Rager groaned, his head flopping back against the seat. “It’s either Tommy or Willie. They both sound like that.”
Oh, my God, what if he saw me naked?
Rager seemed to understand my thoughts and laughed. “He’s passed out, Arie.”
The both of us scrambled to get our clothes on, and then Rager stood, buttoning his shorts and walked to the back of the bus. I followed, my hands on his hips, nervously hoping it was Tommy and not some animal.
Sure enough, it was Tommy, propped against a seat, a bottle of tequila in his hand and a pig at his feet.
Rager kicked Tommy’s thigh. “What are you doing in here?”
He startled awake, jumping back, the pig squealing and staring back at us. “I was tired?” and then he looked at us, our flushed appearance and smiled. “What are you doing on here?”
“Nothing,” Rager answered. “We’re headin’ out and didn’t want to leave your ass here.”
He seemed to think that was the real reason, but all I was thankful for was that Tommy was asleep during all that. I couldn’t imagine him seeing me naked.
; “What is that?” I pointed to the pig, still behind Rager, but no longer touching him.
Tommy pointed innocently to the pig. “That’s Pork Chop.” Tommy paused to pick up the pink butterball at his feet with the curly tail and cold snout, and hauled the pig in his lap. “He’s cute, huh?”
Cute didn’t describe a pig. Not even a little bit.
“Where’d you get him from?” Rager asked, staring at the pig with a puzzled expression. “The zoo?”
“They don’t have pigs at the zoo,” Tommy noted. “I stole him from a farm up the road. He needed a better home.”
“You can’t steal a pig from a farm,” I told him, shaking my head and backing up a step.
“Well I did. And I can’t take him back now. He’d never survive without me.” He scratched the top of the pigs head. “Besides that, Gray already calls him Porkie. It’d be like taking her pet away, and I’m not about to take anything from Gray.”
Of course not. No one would.
Standing, Tommy swayed and reached for his bottle and the leash he had around the pig. “Do you think Burger King is open?” He pushed past the two of us. “I’m starving.”
When he was stepping around me, he looked at my shirt curiously and smiled. “Shirt’s on backwards.”
Crap.
Rager’s shoulders shook with laughter he tried to contain, his head falling forward against my shoulder.
I smacked the side of his head. “Jerk.”
SORE DIDN’T EVEN begin to describe the feeling my body had. I couldn’t even compare it to being sore from working out. It was more like an all-body jelly feeling and every movement I made felt like my muscles were protesting the action, despising me for having a sex life.
And it wasn’t a sex life I was used to because never had I ever had this much sex. After the bus incident, we made the two-hour drive to Fergus Falls Minnesota separately. Rager didn’t bring his motor home this trip, which left him in a hotel room with Lane. It wouldn’t exactly have been wise for me to sneak in there with him.
I, on the other hand, was rooming with my parents. My room was definitely not an option.
Especially when you woke up in the morning and your dad forgot you were in the room and tried having sex with your mom. “Come on, honey, just give me some.”