Deceive (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #2)

by Michelle Irwin

  It was the same thing here. Before long, Flynn would make a mistake, and Alyssa would stop wasting her time with him.

  “Anything for you, Lys,” I whispered against her lips, before opening my eyes again.

  She smiled at my compliance. Her hand came into my hair. “Thank you, for trying.”

  “It’s not too late to go home if you want?” I offered, even though I was anxious to get out on the strip and kick the fucker’s arse, but if Alyssa wanted to go I would.

  “Are you kidding?” she said. “I wanna see what ET this thing gets.”

  Despite my shock that she even knew what an elapsed time was, I couldn’t help the smirk that crossed my face. “Shall I go lay a time now then?”

  She nodded and smiled. “I’ll be watching from the stands.”

  “No,” I said, grabbing her hand. “Come with me. At least until you have to get out. I don’t want to wait in the lanes alone.”

  “Okay.”

  ONCE WE were in the lanes waiting for our turn on the strip, I turned to Alyssa. “You know what? Why don’t you take first go?”

  She shook her head lightly. “No way.”

  “But you said you’d driven here before?”

  “Yeah, but only in my old Cortina. Flynn convinced me to bring it the first time we ever came down.”

  “So Flynn’s never let you drive his car?”

  She laughed. “Are you kidding me? As Flynn always tells me, there are two things of his I’ll never touch, and one of those is his car.”

  “What’s the other?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  I glanced over toward Alyssa; she was bright red and stifling a giggle. I thought about it for a second. My nose crinkled as understanding dawned on me. I didn’t want to think about her hands and that fucker’s cock.

  She laughed heartily at something she saw on my face. Then she shrugged. “I told you before, there’s no competition.” She placed her hand on my thigh, running it up to my crotch and pulling it away at the last second.

  “Well, that decides it. You’re taking the first run,” I told her.

  “I’d rather not. I mean, what if I break something?”

  I shrugged. “If you break something then I’ll kill you,” I deadpanned before laughing to show I wasn’t being serious. At least, not completely. “Relax, you’ll be fine. You just drove at over two hundred ks around a racetrack. This is a simple straight line. It’s easy. There are really only three things to remember. Accelerate, change gears, and brake.”

  “You’re sure? Most guys are like uber-protective of their cars.”

  “I’m sure,” I said, but it sounded like a lie even to me. “I mean, yeah, I’m one of those guys. But I trust you, Lys. I know you can do this.”

  On hearing my affirmation, she squared her shoulders and nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  I spent the next five minutes running through the finer details; when to take off, halfway between the second and third amber light usually worked for me; when to change gears, I told her speeds to change at rather than having her worry about listening to the engine, and how to change gears quickly. When we got to staging, I climbed out of the car, and she jumped in the driver’s seat. She nervously clutched the steering wheel, like she had in the race car. And like then, I reached in through the window, placing my hand over hers, and held her until she relaxed a little.

  “Good luck,” I said as I gave her a peck on the cheek. “When you get to the end, just drive around and I’ll meet you by the tower. I’ll get your ET slip.”

  She nodded, and the look of fierce determination on her face was just so goddamned sexy. I tore myself away as she wound up the window. Then I ran off the track to stand in front of the tower and watch her pass. It may have only been practice, but I had a fucking hard-on watching her control my car. She launched it hard and drove it smoothly down the track for a 14.6 second pass. I smirked as I saw the time. Fuck Flynn and his 14.8.

  Pussy.

  I walked over to the tower to wait for the slip to give to Alyssa. Once I had it, I turned to go meet her.

  “Reede!”

  I scowled when I heard my name called from behind me, but only because I knew the voice. I turned, forcing my face to form a smile, and walked back to Flynn.

  “I see you picked your car up and have managed not to trash it in another DUI yet.”

  I snarled at him, and bit back the “fuck you” that I wanted to say. Instead, I released my breath and said, “It was a good repair job.”

  It almost killed me to be complimenting him or his brother, but at least I could say that I’d tried.

  “Nice pass,” he said with an air of forced civility.

  “Yeah, that wasn’t me,” I said innocently, as I waved the elapsed-time slip.

  He scrunched his forehead briefly, then he raised his eyebrow and smirked. “Oh, you think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m just here to show my girl a good time.”

  Before he could react, Alyssa pulled up in front of us. She practically bounced out of the car to meet me.

  “What did I do?” she asked, breathless. “It felt so fast.”

  “You did a 14.6, baby.” I made a show of wrapping my arms around her and pulling her lips against mine. I was sure not to overdo it—it wouldn’t do to have Alyssa thinking it was just a show for the fucker’s benefit. The fact was, I would have done it regardless, but it felt good to fucking show him what I could offer her that he never could. “Do you want to go back ’round so I can have a run?”

  She nodded and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder to lead her back to the car without a backwards glance toward Flynn.

  Score one, Declan Reede.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: IT’S ALL ABOUT THE STRATEGY

  I COULDN’T BELIEVE how fucking awesome the date had gone. The morning and afternoon were just . . . well, I didn’t think Alyssa’s choice of the word perfect was too strong. Then, just when I’d been worried about the whole thing being derailed by the appearance of Flynn, it had actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

  Every step of the way, I’d done exactly what Alyssa asked me to do—I’d tried. I tried not to be insulted at the barbs Flynn sent my way. I tried not to punch his face when he made a comment about my racing suit. And I tried not to be upset when he pulled a 14.5 out of his arse, beating Alyssa’s time.

  Mostly, I was successful.

  Of course, it helped that for each insult Flynn issued Alyssa seemed to grow more affectionate.

  When he said my arse looked good in a racing suit, she ran her hand over it and pressed her mouth to mine. When he made a supposedly off-the-cuff comment about deadbeat dads, Alyssa wrapped her arms around my waist and quizzed me on what I had planned for our family day the next day.

  In retaliation to Flynn’s childish crap, I decided to show him again what I could offer Alyssa that he never could . . .

  And again . . .

  And again.

  Alyssa didn’t issue a single complaint when I wrapped my arms around her or kissed her.

  Even when we were wrapped so tightly around each other we were practically fucking each other against the side of his car, she never whispered a word to stop me. Sure, I was marking my territory and letting the arsehole know she was mine, but at the same time it felt so fucking unbelievable to touch and kiss her that it was hardly torturous.

  Making the date even better was the fact that Alyssa’s on-track ability in the powder-puff division was nothing short of amazing. Especially considering she hadn’t raced in a long time and never in a performance vehicle like my Monaro. The truth was the most important aspect of dial-in drag racing was a good reaction time and consistent runs. She had both of those in spades.

  Each run, she came within a fraction of a second of her dialled-in time. She only bowed out in the third round, technically coming in fourth place. I almost fucking died when I saw the cherry in her l
ane that indicated she had taken off a fraction too early. But she was happy with what she’d achieved, and that was enough for me.

  Personally, I was pleased with the times I’d achieved during my own practise runs. I found a consistency which had seen me through four rounds and led me to be head-to-head with Flynn in the fifth.

  Driving my car onto my side of the track, I let it rip and then dropped my clutch. The tyres lost traction in the water on the track and my tyres smoked up. I risked a glance at Flynn’s car as the thick plumes of smoke rose from my rear tyres

  My helmet restricted me a little, but I could see well enough to notice the smart-arse look on his face. I snarled at him as my car shot forward from the burnout and sailed past the Christmas tree.

  Putting the car in reverse, I rolled backwards to prepare for staging. Flynn pushed his car forward into pre-stage. With practised care, I inched my car forward into pre-stage, ensuring I didn’t slip it straight into stage. After all, I didn’t want to go in first. That needed to be his honour, but only because it was a way to increase my own chances at scoring a win.

  Because he was in a turbo, he needed to spool it up as much as possible before leaving the line to get maximum power, but if he revved his engine too much he would risk overheating it. It was a timing game, but by forcing him to stage first, I could ensure he had to wait the maximum time in stage. Plus there was the psych-out factor of being the first one in. He revved his engine hard but didn’t move any further forward. With just the top pre-stage light on in both our lanes, I waited patiently.

  Finally he jumped forward and the stage lights were lit on his side. I had thirty seconds before I needed to be there, or I would lose the race before we even started.

  Let the mindfuck begin, I thought.

  Breathing through my nerves, I waited. Ten seconds. Twenty. Flynn revved his engine hard again, trying to spool the turbo enough to give him a good time down the track.

  Idiot.

  I let twenty-five seconds pass, and waited for a dip in the revving of Flynn’s engine, before I finally pushed my car into full stage. Almost as soon as I did, the Christmas tree lit up. Because I’d dialled in a time of 14.2 against his 14.5, I had a 0.3 second delay before I had to leave the line, meaning I had to chase Flynn down.

  Amber-amber-amber fell on his side, and then, so quickly the difference was almost imperceptible, the lights fell on mine.

  He launched his car hard.

  I hit my accelerator between the second and third ambers on my side of the tree.

  Once I left the line, I risked a quick glance in my rear-view mirror. The green lights were on for both sides of the track. I blew a quick sigh of relief.

  Part one, get away clean, was a success.

  Part two, chase him down and get ahead of him, was just beginning.

  As the seconds passed and my car sped, I edged closer and closer to him. At around the hundred-foot mark, I was level with his rear quarter-panel. Then his passenger door. Finally, I closed in on the nose of his car. I snapped through the gears as quickly as I could, using my left foot to hit the clutch. My right foot barely lifted off the accelerator before slamming straight back down.

  Despite the speed of the run, it felt like time had stopped. It was midtrack, just over eight seconds into the run, when I saw him dropping away behind me, agonisingly slowly, but he was going.

  I was ahead.

  I was winning.

  Fuck yes!

  By the end of the quarter-mile, I was half a car ahead of him. As I slowed down, I gave myself a mental fist-pump. I’d shown that arsehole what it takes to be a real fucking race-car driver. With a smile on my face, I checked my rear-vision mirror to see the light on the time boards that would confirm my win.

  As I did, my jaw dropped and I slammed the brakes on hard, pulling the car to an almost complete stop. What I saw was impossible.

  The win light was on, but in his lane.

  Flynn’s car continued to roll smoothly off into the distance in front of me, turning the corner at the end of the braking area and disappearing out of sight. I stared blankly at the board behind me. My head was reeling. Two questions, “What the fuck?” and “How?” played on an endless, alternating loop through my mind.

  Eventually, I put my car back into gear and edged it around the end of the braking area. I watched from the end of the road as Alyssa ran to Flynn’s car, elapsed-time slip in hand. He jumped from the driver’s seat and pulled her into a bear hug. I ground my teeth as he kissed her cheek. I wanted to ram my car into the back of his. The fucker! How dare he kiss my woman like that, especially after what had just happened.

  I still couldn’t understand how I’d lost. To him.

  Everything in my fucking life went to him. No matter what I did, I came in second place to him. I just couldn’t win. I could never win. Not with Alyssa, or Phoebe, or anything else in my life. I may as well cut off my balls and hand them to him, considering he seemed to own everything else I cared about.

  I revved my engine loudly and rolled the car forward a little further. I watched as Alyssa disentangled herself from Flynn and glanced back at my car. I stared impassively as a wide grin came across her face and she waved the slip in front of her. Flynn walked off toward the tower. It became clear then that even though she’d gone to his car, she’d actually grabbed my slip. Maybe she didn’t care that I was the loser. I frowned in confusion. She ran toward my car, not even pausing for a second before pulling open the door and jumping into the passenger seat. Instead of sitting, she leaned across the car and claimed my lips.

  “Congrats, Dec.” She grinned at me.

  I grew even more confused. Why the hell was she congratulating me? “I fucking lost, didn’t I?”

  “Only because you smashed your dial-in time.” Her enthusiasm was a little contagious, and I felt my lips curling up . . .slightly.

  “What’d I get?” I asked. I reached out to grab the elapsed time from her, but she pulled it away at the last second and giggled.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Tell me,” I commanded.

  “Or?” She raised her eyebrow and giggled again, hiding the slip of paper behind her back.

  “Or . . .” I pulled the car out of gear and reefed on the handbrake. I twisted in my seat to get leverage and leaned across the car, pressing my lips to hers. I kissed her deeply, pushing her into the passenger door. I snuck my arms around her waist as she moaned into my mouth. When she was sufficiently distracted, I snatched the piece of paper off her and sank back into my own seat, trying to calm my raging hard-on. The slip announced my elapsed time was 13.9. My smile grew at the sight.

  Fuck yes!

  It was the first time I’d had a sub-14 run. Not that dragging was a common pastime for me, but I’d gone often enough to be fucking elated with the time.

  Between my time and Alyssa staring at me with come-fuck-me eyes, the fact that I’d lost began to mean little. I felt like throwing the ET slip out the window and fucking Alyssa right there and then, but I couldn’t. Instead, I put the car in gear, released the handbrake and drove back to the pit area.

  “Did you want to watch his last race?” I asked her. “I’ll pack up while you do.”

  She shook her head and smiled at me. “I’d rather help you. It’s been a long day and I think I’m ready to go home.”

  I nodded. As much as I hated the date to be over, I was ready to head home too. I packed as quickly as I could. I’d just finished securing the spare wheel back into the boot when a thought occurred to me. Sitting against the edge of the boot, I turned to Alyssa.

  “It was a good day though, yeah?” I asked, feeling uncertain about my choices again. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

  She walked over to me and pushed her body between my legs. Then she ran a finger from my forehead, down my nose and rested it on my lips. “You are so cute when you’re insecure.”

  I laughed. “Declan Reede is never insecure.”

  She quirked her eyebrow at me.
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  I shrugged. “What? I got a rep to protect.”

  She giggled and dropped her hand before kissing me softly on the lips. “It was a good day.”

  I wrapped my arms around her and rested my forehead against her chest. “I’m glad.”

  I lifted my head and captured her lips. My eyes closed of their own accord as I pushed my tongue forward. My entire body was aware of her proximity. I wanted her so badly. A small groan and parted lips told me she was just as anxious for me as I was for her. Regardless, her rules ran through my mind. It was all up to her, but if she wanted to take it further I would be there in a heartbeat.

  If not, well, I’d have to work something out or have an ice-cold shower.

  Cupping my hands along her chin, I pulled her mouth harder against mine. I wrapped my legs around her hips, pinning her to me. I relished the sensation of her taste and smell.

  It was only when I heard an engine revving beside us that I became aware of my surroundings again. I ran my fingers into her hair and exhaled heavily.

  “Let’s go home,” I whispered, releasing the physical hold I had on her.

  She nodded.

  “Go say goodbye,” I said, nodding in Flynn’s direction. “I’ll finish here.”

  It took less than fifteen minutes to get everything else back in the car. I didn’t worry about changing back into normal clothes because we’d be driving straight home to Mum’s to pick Phoebe up anyway, so I figured I could shower there.

  Once I was finished, I waited for Alyssa. I watched as she and Flynn laughed about something and wished again that it could be that easy between her and me. I decided to be the bigger man—again—and walked over to them.

  “Congratulations, Flynn,” I said stiffly. I may have been trying, but that didn’t mean I could find it in myself to be overly friendly. Especially not after the way things had gone down the previous morning.

  “Umm . . . yeah, thanks, uh, Declan,” he said in response, clearly shocked at my words. “Are you leaving now?”

  He looked briefly to Alyssa and mouthed something. She nodded slightly, as if in response. It was almost like there was some secret between the two of them.