Always Series Box Set

by Becs, Lindsay

My dad and I get along, but we aren’t close. He and my mom split when I was young, and I lived with her in England. She’s from London, and I grew up outside the city after we moved there when they split. I would visit my dad in the US and he would visit me, but the distance didn’t make it easy for us to forge a close relationship.

  I’m a half Brit, half Yank racing for an American company in an international race against all other European and Asian companies. Thus, making me the black sheep of the race and the wild card. My dad owning Royal King ups the stakes for him and ups the pressure for me to perform at my utter best, too. I’m not worried though; I got this. I’ve been riding on two wheels since I could walk.

  My father, Matthew King, has worked his ass off to get where is in the world of not only motorcycles but racing, as well. When I asked him last year to take a chance on me, I knew I was a big risk for him, a liability even. But he agreed that if I put in the time and showed him what I could do, he’d think about it. Six months later, he flew to London and watched me race. That’s when he agreed to let me represent the company and be his racer this year. His guy crashed hard last season early on and had to be pulled out. I was going to be the new face, not only to Royal King but to IMR.

  So far, we seem to be working well together. We’ve both taken turns flying back and forth in the six months since, but a couple months back I came to Vegas to stay and train here until the IMR begins. Then it’ll be traveling the world with the whole team and racing against the fastest and craziest guys out there.

  You can call me a cocky asshole if you want, but I know I’ll be at the top of that leader board race after race. I’m good. I’m a surprise. And I’m going to give all those motherfuckers a taste of what it’s like to lose to a King.

  * * *

  I ride up to the door of the studio a couple of hours after I got off the phone with my dad and park my bike on the walkway outside the door. I take off my sunglasses as I slip my helmet from my head, but put them back on before getting off my bike and making my way inside. I have to give a show of who I am. They all need to know that I’m not here for games; I’m here to get this shit done and get back to the track.

  “Mr. King,” a squeaky male voice calls out to me. “I’m Dave, the photographer.”

  “Benton. Nice to meet you, Davey. Let’s get this thing over with, yeah?” I say as I follow him back to the open space of the studio.

  He introduces me to the ‘glam squad,’ his words not mine, and shows me where we’re doing the in-studio part of the shoot. Apparently, this is a two-part session, and the other half is done at the track. Dear old dad forgot to mention that little fun bit.

  I change into what they have out for me to wear for now. It’s jeans, a tee, and a leather jacket with boots. This I can get behind. This is me. I walk out to see what the squad is going to attempt to do to me when someone catches my eye. All of a sudden today doesn’t seem so bad.

  She’s wearing similar clothes to what I have on but with red heels and a tight tank top. She looks fucking hot straddling my bike. I rake my teeth over my lip, watching her move and pose. Walking toward her, I can’t help the smile that grows across my face. She’s going to hate this day in a second, and I’m going to be the cause.

  “Try not to scratch the paint with your fuck-me heels, Sugar,” I say, leaning against a concrete pillar in the area where her shoot is happening. “But I can give you something else to scratch with those later, yeah?”

  Her head snaps up, and as her eyes meet mine, I can see fire there. “What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow me here, too?” she asks, climbing off the bike with ease.

  “Benton King, nice to see you again, Sugar.” I smile at her.

  I watch as her jaw tenses and relaxes again. “Tatum. Not ‘Sugar.’ Tatum.”

  “Uhhh… so, you two know each other?” Dave asks, sounding uncomfortable.

  “He’s been stalking me,” she says with an eyeroll as she walks back to the bike. Damn this girl has spunk. I like that.

  “Where do you want me, Davey?” I ask, walking to join Tatum.

  “Let’s warm up with you two just getting used to each other. Nothing posed. Just relax. Get to know each other… better”

  As much as I’d love to rock her off her high horse and plant a big kiss on her, I have a feeling she’s a fighter. I don’t want to cause more of a scene than we already have. Instead, I opt to be truthful.

  “I didn’t know you were here to model for Royal King. It makes sense now why I kept seeing you around.”

  “I didn’t know who you were, either. Sorry for being so… bitchy,” she says, and I’m surprised at her admittance. “That’s a lie. I’m not sorry. You deserved it. You come on strong,” she adds, pursing her lips. I bark out a laugh. This girl. Damn, I really like her.

  Holding out my hand to her, I ask, “Friends?”

  “Not even close,” she snaps, turning away from me and walking to her stylist. Right then.

  “Davey, we about ready to get this thing under way?”

  Tatum gets her touch-up done and walks back over with her head held high, oozing confidence and sexy as hell. I see why she was picked to be the new face of Royal King. She exhibits everything my father wants RK to stand for.

  She walks straight up to me, wrapping her arm behind my back with her hand on my shoulder. Her body is pressed tightly against my side with her feet spread a bit, my foot between them. “Smile for the camera, Benny. You’ve got to sell it better than that,” she says quiet enough for only me to hear. Her thumb swipes across my chin and she adds, “You had a little drool.”

  This sexy little vixen is turning me on, and she knows it. I stare straight into her blue eyes as I reach down and adjust my cock, not caring who’s watching. Two can play at this game.

  I lift her up and sit her backwards on my bike. Walking behind it, I then push her so her back arches over the gas tank. I see her trying to reign in her breathing as it’s picking up, and I smirk as I see her losing her control, but she doesn’t back down or try to move. Dave guides where he wants our hands and the direction of our faces. I definitely want a poster size of this one. I also intend to have her like this on my bike again. Naked.

  We finish up the indoor shoot without talking to one another. Three wardrobe changes and direction from Dave, along with moving on our own. Tension has been high, sexually and in anger, and it’s maddening. Once Dave said we were done and that we’d finish the track shoot tomorrow, she took off toward her dressing room. I think we could have finished today, but it was evident we needed to stop for the day. She was so tense.

  Her door closes and before she can lock it, I push it open, closing it behind me. “What are you—”

  I stop her protest with a kiss. My fingers go into her blonde hair that I’ve thought about wrapping around my hands all afternoon. She’s still stiff and tense as my mouth moves on hers, but when my left hand travels down her back, I grip her ass, pulling her into me as she lets out a soft moan, relaxing into me further. My tongue traces the seam of her lips, and when hers meets mine, there’s an electric current that runs through me. I kiss her deeper. Her full lips are soft as she meets me kiss for kiss. Her hands snake up my chest, but then she freezes. She pulls back and slaps me across the face.

  “The hell?” I say while holding my cheek.

  “You don’t get to kiss me,” she retorts, pointing at me with that fire in her eyes that I love.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t want to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss you. You enjoyed it, yeah?”

  “No,” she responds with a lifted brow.

  “Whatever you say, Sugar,” I say, shaking my head, not believing a word she says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I leave her room and make my way outside, only stopping to grab my helmet. I don’t bother changing back into the clothes I came in. Wasting no time, I peel out of there and head back to the hotel. I need a drink to get this day out of my head. I can’t afford to have this girl get to
me. Not now.

  Yet, I can’t seem to forget her. I’m drawn to her. Like most fires, you know you’ll get burned if you get close, but you can’t seem to look away, mesmerized by their scorching beauty.

  Chapter Four

  Tatum

  Holy. Shit.

  I followed right behind Benton’s steps as he opened and closed the door to my dressing room. I locked the door as he left, and my head fell forward as I tried to calm my rapidly beating heart.

  I’m alone. This is what I wanted. I wanted space away from everyone. I wanted to not be attached to anyone or anything here. I wanted to do my job. Alone.

  But every time that man is near me, I lose all control of myself. It’s like my brain turns off and my body ignites a spark inside me, catching me on fire for his pleasure. When he kissed me, I thought I was going to explode. I’ve been kissed a lot but never like that. Never in a way that consumed every facet of my mind, body, and soul. I tried to not give in, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was so enraptured with kissing him that, at first, I didn’t realize what I was doing when I sank into him. I have got to get myself together or this is never going to work.

  Someone knocks on my door, making me jump. I’m afraid of who’s going to be on the other side. Closing my eyes, I take a breath, push all emotion from my face and open the door.

  Lola, the make-up artist who I’ve been working with, stands there. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me coming to check on you. Dave said things were a bit tense today, and then I saw Benton take off from your room. You alright?” she asks.

  “I’m fine. Just a weird day,” I lie.

  “Look, you can tell me to shove it if you want, but can I give you a piece of advice?” I gesture for her to come into the room, and we sit on the couch inside. “I’ve been in the business a long time. I can tell an arrogant asshole who treats everyone like scum from the cocky guy who’s an actual sweetheart within the first thirty seconds of meeting them. Benton, he’s a good one. He might come off as tough, but I bet your cute ass he ran out of here because you are messing with his head and he’s not used to that.”

  I huff a laugh. “I don’t know about that. I think it’s the other way around. He likes getting inside my head.”

  “When I first saw you today, I saw a lot of myself. I used to think I needed to control everything around me and keep this hard exterior all the time. I had massive panic attacks and an unhealthy relationship to go with them. But I became friends with someone who was my polar opposite and he balanced me out.”

  “Let me guess. You married him?” I say with an eyeroll and small smile. She’s being nice, and it feels good to have someone be motherly to me. I’ve missed this feeling.

  “My point is, you don’t have to keep yourself closed off. I understand that in this industry you have to protect yourself. Trust me, I get that. Just don’t shut everyone out. It’s OK to let some people in, even the ones you least expect.” She pats my leg with a smile. “Did I tell you he wears a suit?” she adds. “He wears a fucking suit and loafers for a living.” she laughs shaking her head.

  My eyes travel over her, tattoos cover her skin with pleather leggings and a sleeveless red shirt that matches her bright red lips.

  “Trust your heart,” she says, standing up to leave. “And your gut because sometimes your heart sinks when you close yourself off for so long.” She gives me another smile and leaves me sitting there contemplating everything from the day.

  I start to laugh thinking about how she described her man. I guess you could say that Benton and I look like opposites, too. He’s big with muscles covered in tattoos and piercings. He has a nose ring and gages and who knows what else is pierced. The thought starts to turn me on. Letting out a breath, I change and leave, needing to get out of this studio.

  * * *

  I knock on the door, and I don’t know what I’m thinking. When I turn to leave, it opens behinds me.

  “Tatum?” he rasps to my back.

  I swallow down my nerves and turn back around. “Hey.” Now that I’m standing in front of him, I don’t know what to say. Why did I come here anyway?

  “Did you need something?” he asks. He seems so different from before. More reserved, quiet.

  “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I’m sorry I made things so tense today at the studio.”

  A grin spreads over his mouth as he leans on the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest. “How’d that taste coming out? A bit sour, yeah?”

  “What is your problem? I’m trying to be nice here and you’re being an ass. I thought maybe we could call a truce and be friends, but I see now that I was very, very wrong. I’ll see you to—"

  My rant is cut off when he pulls my hand, which had been flying around in the air as I spoke, into his. His mouth crashes into mine, and I gasp from the force of our bodies colliding.

  “I’ll be your friend,” he says into my mouth. “Your kissing friend.”

  “Why can’t I say no to you?” I ask as he pushes the door closed with us on the other side.

  “Same reason I can’t seem to keep away from you, Sugar.” He pulls my mouth back to his, and we both sink into one another.

  We give in to the kiss, letting go and allowing the magnetic pull we have to take over. It’s not fast or frenzied. though. No, it’s soft and seductive. Our lips and tongues making love to one another as our hands learn the shape of the other’s body. His tongue piercing slides and glides against my tongue making everything more sensual. Benton slowly kisses a path from my lips to my ear.

  “Does this mean you’ll share a meal with me now, Sugar?” he whispers into my ear, sending chills down my spine. “You do eat, yeah?”

  “Yes, I eat.”

  “Good. I’m going to need you to keep eating to keep your strength up.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?” I ask with a raised brow.

  “Because I can’t get the image of you lying across my bike out of my head,” he rasps as he kisses my neck. “And soon I’m going to take you for a ride.”

  I start to laugh, and it takes both of us by surprise. He pulls back, watching as the laugh becomes uncontrollable, his own smile widening by the second. Before long, I have tears seeping from my eyes and I’m bent over, crouching on the floor at his feet. I honestly don’t know why I’m laughing so hard. I can’t remember the last time I actually did laugh, never mind this much.

  “You alright down there?” Benton asks with his head tilted to the side, looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

  “Oh, my stomach hurts,” I tell him as I right myself again and wipe the tears from my face. “And my cheeks hurt from smiling. That’s normal, right?”

  “You're serious?”

  “I haven’t laughed like that in… I don’t even know.”

  “Why not? You’re beautiful when you laugh and let go. You should do it more often.”

  “Guess I just haven’t had a reason to,” I say, looking down at my black patent leather heels.

  He lifts my chin to look at him, staring straight into my eyes. “Guess we’ll have to find more reasons then.”

  And just like that, I wanted him to give me all the reasons to laugh.

  We end up watching Tommy Boy—his attempt to get me to laugh more—and ordering room service. He downed a steak dinner while I ate a plate of lettuce disguised as a salad, wishing it was my cheat day. I had a feeling that since we were both staying in the same hotel, the rest of my time here was going to be a lot more fun.

  “I need to get to bed,” I say, reaching for my shoes that I’d thrown to the side of the couch.

  “Bed? It’s barely nine,” he replies around a mouth full of popcorn. I was so jealous of that bag of buttered goodness.

  “I have to be up early to do a photo shoot with some dickhead at the track.” I smile.

  “I’ll show you a dickhead…”

  “Night, Benny.”

  He follows me to the door, kissing me goodnight. I lick the salt from my l
ips as I walk to my room one floor below his.

  I want to tell myself that this isn’t good, but I have a feeling Lola was right earlier. I need to listen to my heart, and my heart is telling me that Benton is what it needs. I just pray he goes easy when he hurts it.

  * * *

  When I step out of the car that brought me from hair and make-up to the track for our shoot today, I watch Benton’s jaw literally drop. The corner of my mouth quirks up as I see the fire light in his eyes. I don’t have any expectations of anything from him more than what we’ve already done, but it doesn’t stop me from enjoying how I affect him.

  “Like what you see today, Benny?” I ask, walking to where he stands next to his bike, still staring. He’s in his race leathers and boots. His official bike and helmet sit behind him with the twisty track as our backdrop for the day.

  “That early bedtime did you good, yeah?” he says as he gives me a peck on the cheek to not disturb my lipstick or cause a scene.

  I’m wearing the official Royal King Paddock Girl attire. My outfit consists of a black miniskirt, tight cropped tank with the RK logo stretched across my breasts, and black heeled booties. My hair is down in waves around my shoulders, and my make-up is on point with black winged eyes and red lips to match Benton’s bike.

  Paddock Girls are there to stand by the bikes and racers to help enhance their beauty. We also get the task of holding umbrellas over the racer’s head to shield from sun or rain. It’s a similar job to those in boxing who hold up the signs that read ‘round one’ and such. Paddock Girls change from track to track, but since I’m also the new face of RK, they wanted me to be the Paddock Girl for the race here at The Piston Ring this year.

  “Why does it feel like the air around us isn’t thick with sexual tension anymore?” Dave asks as he begins testing out the light.

  “We made nice,” I respond.

  “More like made-out,” Benton says only loud enough for me to hear.