Always Series Box Set

by Becs, Lindsay

  “So, that was her, yeah?” Alfie inquires when she leaves the restaurant. I slowly nod, taking a sip of my beer. “I remember her being hot, but she’s fuckable even stripped of all the make-up and shit. Good luck, mate, on reaching that end goal.”

  I give him a side-eyed glance before a smile spreads across my face. “She knows I’m coming for her. And watch your mouth.”

  “Be sure to allow me a front-row seat to watch you crash and burn then.”

  “Oh, I’ll crash. But it’ll be into her,” I laugh before gulping down the rest of my pint. “I’m done. See you later, mate?” He nods, and we give our goodbyes and good lucks to each other. Once the circuit starts, the gloves come off. Friendships shift and change, but Alfie and I seem to keep things balanced enough to compete against each other and still have the other’s back.

  After a quick stop at the front desk and some sweet-talking to the attendant, I make my way upstairs and stand in front of her door. Should I push this early on? Probably not. She’ll most likely knee me in the balls and push me out the door. I have to try though. As I said, I’m starving and need to satisfy my craving.

  My fist knocks on the door and as I stand there, I hear her muffled ‘shit’ on the other side. Peephole. I look up at it and smile. “Open up, Sugar.”

  “No. Go away, Benton,” she says from inside the room, sounding frustrated and exhausted by the thought of me being here.

  “Tatum,” I sigh her name, relaxing and letting all pretenses drop for a minute. “Please?” I plead with my hand on the door.

  I count to fifteen as my heart thunders in my throat before she opens the door. She’s beautiful. Hair in a mess on top of her head, face clean of make-up. Her feet are bare, with the exception of red painted on her toes. She’s wearing cotton joggers that hit at her calves and a loose-fitted tee with a wide neck threatening to fall off her shoulder that reads ‘Messy Hair, Don’t Care.’ I swallow the lump in my throat as I try my best not to pick her up and throw her on the bed to have my way with her.

  “What do you want, Benton?” she asks in that same frustrated and exhausted tone, pulling me from my head as I survey her.

  “You,” I say simply.

  Her eyes close for a second, and when they open again, she looks conflicted. “I can’t. I’m here to work. I’m going to be traveling with you guys. I can’t,” she repeats.

  “Can’t we at least still be friends?” I ask. It sounds so childish coming from me, making me want to punch myself.

  “You know that doesn’t work well for us,” she responds, and I see the slight twitch of her lips in the corners. Her perfect lips. Rosy without any rouge, full bottom lip, the top a perfect bow begging for me to open.

  “I won’t push,” I say honestly.

  “You wouldn’t have to,” she admits, leaning against the side of the open door. The movement makes her shirt fall, exposing her bare shoulder. My eyes follow the path from her shoulder across her collarbone to her neck. Fucking hell, I want to lick that path and then keep going.

  “I promise you, I’m going to breach this wall you built between us. I’m going to make you smile and laugh again. I’m going to kiss you.” Taking a step closer to her, I close my eyes and she fills my senses. I lick my lips and lean into her. “I promised you this wasn’t over. And I keep my promises,” I whisper into her ear. Taking a step back, I turn and leave her, knowing that if I don’t, I’ll kiss her right now.

  Now that I’m hard as a rock and can still smell her vanilla and chocolate, I step into the shower and fist myself. No one gets me as hard as she does, and she didn’t even touch me. Hell, I didn’t even touch her. With my other hand, I hit the shower wall. I don’t like that I feel powerless with her. On the track, I know my fate and what’s ahead. I take what I want and destroy everyone in my path. But Tatum? I grovel at her feet, and she still denies me.

  I remember the way she tasted, the feel of her tongue moving against mine, her soft lips. My hand grips tighter, and I begin pumping. I let out a groan, thinking about how she felt pressed against me. Fuck, I want her so bad. I remember the quick glimpse I got of her naked. Her tits that look like perfect handfuls. I want to taste them, suck them in my mouth and make her quiver. That thought makes me quiver, and I grunt out her name as I paint my desire for her on the shower wall.

  * * *

  Training has been in full swing. Alfie had been here to train with me, but left to go back home the day after Tatum got here. I haven’t seen her since that night three weeks ago. She’s been at the studio mainly, I know. I do keep tabs on where she is and what she’s doing, however stalkerish that may be.

  The other race teams will begin to arrive tomorrow. We’re four days away from the opening race for this season at The Piston Ring. Not many racers or teams have changed since the last, which is both good and bad. I’m not as much of a wildcard this year, but the expectations of what I’ll do with the new bike are high. Pressure doesn’t bother me. Rejection does.

  Today I’ll see Tatum and we’ll do our pictures, like last time. I’m sure the tension will be high again until she lets go and lets me in, like last time. I chuckle to myself thinking about it as I pull up to the studio. I swagger in holding my helmet and make my way to Dave, or Davey as I like to call him.

  We greet each other before he shoos me away to change and get ready. When I emerge from the dressing room, I see her. She’s already on my bike posing, looking like a goddess. My mouth waters again for her as I stalk over.

  “I like you on my bike, Sugar,” I say, startling her.

  She composes herself quickly and rolls her eyes at me, look and move I’m used to seeing from her. Those things are going to roll right out of her head soon, but not before I make them roll for another reason.

  I clap my hands together. “Shall we?”

  Davey gives us his direction. He knows what he wants this time and is very vocal about it. I don’t mind since it involves my hands on her and our bodies close. I like Davey a lot more after today.

  Once he tells us that we are good to move to the track to finish up today, Tatum turns to leave quickly, but I catch her wrist. She turns and shoots fire at me from her eyes. It only makes me smile at her more.

  “Ride over with me,” I say, not asking.

  “No.”

  “Yes,” I grit out between my teeth.

  “No,” she repeats with more defiance, her brow raised and lips pursed. That same look graces posters, magazines, and billboards.

  “I want your ass on the back of my bike,” I say, but this time I cross the line and my hand drops from her wrist to her ass, pulling her against me.

  She shoves me, and I lessen my grip but don’t let her go completely.

  “I can’t mess up my hair and make-up,” she counters, and I see her walls begin to crack for the first time.

  “They can fix it, yeah? Just ride with me,” I plead. I seem to beg her a lot, and I’m not sure if I like that. It’s different. It’s usually girls begging me.

  “What?” Davey’s voice breaks through our stand-off. “You want her to ride over with you?” He sounds way too excited, but maybe it’ll bow in my favor.

  “Yes.” I smile at Tatum. “I want her to ride with me.”

  She gives her head a small shake, and I know she’s pissed and I’ll pay for this at some point, but I don’t care as long as I can get her on my bike to ride at my back.

  “OH! I love that! I can shoot you riding together on the way! People will eat that up, honey,” he gushes to Tatum. “Please, do this for me?”

  She rolls her eyes again, but for once I don’t think it’s directed at me. Victory! “Fine. But they are going to be pissed at you when I take that helmet off and you want more pictures,” she sasses, talking about the stylists. I win!

  Once we get the bike they want me riding out, and Tatum and I in the proper gear, we head outside. “You’re a pain in my ass,” she tells me when I help put her helmet on. She looks so cute with the padding squis
hing her face.

  “I don’t mind being a pain in your ass. Pretty soon, I’ll be your favorite one.” I smirk at her, licking my lips before stepping back to get my own helmet on. “Have you ridden before?”

  She shakes her head and looks nervous. Now I do feel like an ass. She has all this pressure on her now with the photos, and she hasn’t even ridden before.

  “It’s alright. I’ll help you, yeah? You have to relax. I’ll get on first. Then, you’ll put your left foot on this peg and swing your right over and place it on the peg on the other side. Use my shoulders to help you, and wrap your arms around my waist to hold on. Use your legs, too. They can help brace you when we stop and you’re pushed forward. You can squeeze as much as you need.” I stop and smile at her, and she gives me a slight grin when her eyes roll again. “The biggest thing is to move with me and the bike. Lean into the turns with me, not away. I’ll tap your leg if you need to hold on more, and you give me two squeezes if you need me to stop, yeah?”

  She takes a deep breath. “Yeah, OK.”

  “That’s my girl,” I assert before realizing what I said. Oh well, too late to take it back now.

  I climb on and start up the bike. They already changed out the back to add the seat for her while we were talking. I give her a nod, and she does exactly as I instructed and sits behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I give her a thumbs up and smile. Her arms snake around my middle and her legs squeeze tight. I rub the side of her thigh to try to get to her to relax, but she only tenses more from my touch. I’m about to stop when I feel her sink in further. I nod at her in the side mirror.

  The crew already told me which way they wanted me to drive to get to the track. Once they’re all set, we take off, and a little squeal comes out of Tatum when we do. She’s holding on tight, and I like the way she feels behind me. I can smell her and feel her all around. I am more relaxed than I’ve been in a long time. Probably since last season when we watched a movie together and she fell asleep.

  It doesn’t take long for her to begin to relax, and my ease grows more, as well. It feels natural to have her on my bike, riding behind me. I’ve never had a girl on my bike before. I always felt like that was an honored thing, something that had to be earned. Yet, I didn’t even think about it or hesitate to ask her. But I know now that I want her there more than just today.

  Once we reach the track, I help her off the bike. When she removes the helmet, I see a smile, huge and beautiful, grace her face. I kiss her. I want to remember and keep safe each and every smile I earn, and this is the best one yet. I don’t care that the crew will be here in seconds or someone may see—my dad may see. I just want her smiles. All of them. Mine.

  Chapter Nine

  Tatum

  I was shitting my pants when Dave said he wanted me to ride with Benton on his bike. Not only because I’d be pressed up close and personal with him, but also because I’d never been on a motorcycle before. Lie. I’ve been on them for pictures, but never with them running, much less moving. And definitely not as a passenger on the back with a biker who I can’t seem to say no to and who turns me on with one twitch of his lip.

  Now, after Benton was so calm and reassuring while giving me instructions. After holding him tight and trusting him with my life. After feeling closer to him, one with him. Feeling the wind whip around us, my hair tangling in the breeze and my heart pumping and thumping in my chest as it pressed to his back. I want to do it again. And soon. If I could have crawled closer to him, pressed harder into him, I would have, as his warm and woodsy scent of pine and spice mixed with the open air. After feeling free and alive and turned on with this man with an engine roaring and vibrating between my legs, I definitely want to do it again.

  I can’t hold back my smile and excitement any longer. I unsnap and unbuckle my helmet at the same time as Benton after I climb off the back. My smile spreads, big and wide, up at him and he looks in awe.

  With one hand holding his helmet, the other one goes into my windblown hair, and his mouth crashes into mine. We both moan at the same time as sparks ignite and catch fire with the energy around us. The exhilaration, the excitement mixed with sexual tension and arousal, is palpable. There’s no doubt in my mind that if we were alone in a room, we’d be naked already. Instead, we both hold back, letting our lips linger a little longer than they should, before retreating and extinguishing the fire.

  “Girl, your heart-shaped, perfect ass looks hot as hell in these pictures!” Dave gushes, walking up to us and breaking us apart.

  Benton slowly moves his hand from my hair, his knuckles running down the side of my face. He gives me a sexy little knowing grin as he steps away. I raise a brow at him and take my stance as the hard-ass I’m known to be. There we stand in a face-off of who will buckle first in their line of defense against the other.

  We press on with the rest of the shoot for another couple of hours. If anyone saw us kissing or suspected anything between us, they didn’t anything or let on. Much like before, I’m sure these out-of-studio shots will be a hundred times better than in. Seems Benton and I have a way about us. Maybe that will change now. Maybe we’ll just be now.

  We left the track in different directions, but when I get back to the studio and into my dressing room, my journal is open to a fresh page again, sitting on the vanity. It looks like last time when he left me his number. I let myself smile for a second before reading it. Dinner tonight. Room 601. 7:00. You’re dessert. I roll my eyes and close my sacred journal. I want to be mad at him for being so forward and crass, but I can’t be. I like it too much.

  * * *

  I’m showered, shaved, lotioned and potioned up. I only applied a few swipes of mascara and some lip gloss, and my hair is pulled up in a high ponytail. I put on a pair of my favorite stretchy skinny jeans and one of the new Royal King tanks. I feel comfortable and sexy and confident.

  Until I knock on the door and he opens it wearing nothing but a pair of low-hung jeans. His hair is dripping water from the shower he obviously just finished, down his sculpted chest. Mother Teresa, this man. One look and he turns on the faucet between my legs. Damn. Even his pierced nipples are turning me on. I didn’t even know I liked that!

  He grabs my hand and pulls me inside, closing the door behind me. I can’t hold in the squeal and smile that erupts from me. He captures it all with his mouth on mine. His tongue doesn’t wait for an invitation but pushes inside, claiming every inch of my mouth as his. He pulls the band from my hair, letting my locks fall around us. His hands, one at the nape of my neck, the other on my ass, pull me into him harder. I feel his own arousal pressing into my stomach.

  He pulls back, his head on my shoulder, his breaths ragged. “Sugar, I’m sorry. I can’t hold back any longer.” Lifting his head, he looks into my eyes. Our blues meet and burn together in the hottest part of the flame between us.

  My teeth rake over my bottom lip, and his eyes spark, watching the movement. My hand on his chest dances over the ripples of muscle on his skin covered in colors and artwork. When I get to the waist of his jeans, I grip his hard cock in my hand. A groan comes from the back of his throat as his eyes hood over in lust. I place a feather-light kiss on his bottom lip and feel him twitch in my hand. “I don’t want you to hold back any longer,” I whisper against his parted lips.

  He closes the short space between us, our mouths devouring each other. Pulling me up, he wraps my legs around him and walks us into his room. He throws me onto the bed and looks down at me with a smile spreading. I let my own pull on my lips.

  He makes quick work of pulling off my jeans, trailing kisses up from my feet, bending my knees on his way up and spreading me wide. See, I came ready for this. I wasn’t wearing any underwear; that would only be in the way. He drags his nose over the apex of my legs, and I feel him inhale followed by his hot breath over my sensitive flesh. It’s been over a year since I’ve been with anyone, and everything he does is pushing me to the edge faster and faster.

  He looks up
my body, and our eyes meet for a second before I reach down and pull my shirt off, leaving me completely naked. My hardened nipples stand up, aching to be touched. I smile down at him as I cup my breasts, pushing them together and rolling my nipples between my fingers. He watches and emits a growl like someone is playing with his favorite toy.

  He stands and lets his jeans fall. He, too, came prepared and was going commando. I let my eyes take in all of him now. His thick cock, standing tall. And I was right; he’s pierced there, too. I’ve never been with someone like him before. I can’t wait to feel him, all of him, around and inside of me.

  I raise a brow at him, and he gives me that knowing smile. Both of us are ready to fuck and give ourselves over to the other.

  “I can’t decide where to start with you,” he rasps, climbing onto the bed with me. “I want to taste every part of you. Drink from your pussy, suck these pretty pink nipples, lick every inch of your soft, pure skin. You are so fucking beautiful, Tatum.” My breathing picks up with every word he says, and when he finishes, he kisses me. This time it’s soft and sensual and almost loving.

  He kisses down my body, stopping at my breasts to lick, kiss, and suck them. His cock is rubbing against the side of my thigh and that alone is turning me on, but all the hard and soft push and pull of my nipples is making me want to explode. I greedily try to turn my body to line his length up between my legs, where I want him.

  “Oh, you need attention down there, Sugar?” he asks while looking down at me. I’m so turned on I can’t form words, but I nod my head.

  He continues his path of kisses down my body, stopping to kiss my hip bones. He kisses down each side, making me moan and arch wanting more. He inhales me again. “You smell like my favorite meal,” he says before I feel his tongue drag from back to front. A loud moan escapes me as my hips buck in response. “Fuck… you taste even better than I imagined,” he says before diving into my center. Mere seconds and I’m coming all over his tongue.