Always Series Box Set

by Becs, Lindsay

  He looks up at me, his lopsided grin shining with my arousal. My own sated grin looks back at him and I nod, letting him know I’m ready for more. He reaches for one of the condoms on the bedside table. Sheathing himself, he strokes his impressive length a few times before nestling between my legs. He rubs through the wetness there, coating himself and making me hum more already. I feel the extra metal he has, hitting me just right.

  He kisses each of my nipples, between my breasts, my throat, my chin, and finally my lips. Then, with practiced, slow precision, he slides into my tight, wanting pussy. A deep, guttural groan comes from his lips into my mouth. He slowly, too slowly, slides out and in, groaning each time. His response, his sounds, to me and what my body is doing to him is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s erotic and sensual and sexy as fuck. Not all men will let their own cries out when pleasure finds them.

  He picks up his pace little by little, and little by little my body begins to ignite again. With all the sensations, from having his size fill me to his apadravya piercing, I’m going to be done sooner rather than later. Our mouths close over each other, our sounds and cries of pleasure being passed from one to the other through our parted lips.

  “Fuck, I’m so close, Benton,” I manage to moan out in a squeaky, needy voice.

  “Me too, Sugar. Let go with me, yeah?”

  I nod my head and our eyes meet. He’s in and out, in and out. I gasp, brows pulled together as my stomach tightens, sparks light, and my body tips over. As I clamp down around him, he pushes back in and lets out a deep-throated growl. He keeps slowly, jerkily, thrusting in and out until we’re both liquid lava after erupting together.

  He slowly leans up on his forearms and kisses my shoulder, collar bone, and then my lips. “Promise me we can do that again,” he sighs with a small laugh. “I knew I liked you and wanted you before, but now I don’t want to ever let you go.”

  “I think you were right. You just became my favorite,” I tell him with a small, sated grin.

  He kisses me, and before long we’re giving and taking more. We never did eat dinner, but I think it’s safe to say we were both left satisfied with dessert.

  * * *

  I wake up hearing my phone buzz in the distance. Confused at first, I soon realize I fell asleep with Benton. My head is on his chest, leg over his. The ache between my legs reminds me of the night we had. I bite back my smile before letting it take over my face. Slowly, I try to slide out of bed to turn off my alarm and leave without waking him.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Sugar?” His deep, raspy voice is even more so this morning.

  “I was turning off my alarm, but I do need to go. I have to be at the studio in an hour,” I tell him, walking to the living room space of his suite. Locating my phone, I turn off my alarm and walk back into the bedroom to find my clothes.

  “A man could get used to waking up looking at you, yeah?” he says with a growing smile as he looks at my naked body.

  I don’t shy away from his predatory gaze. No, I sweep my hair up in my arms and turn in a circle, swaying my hips for his pleasure. I smirk at him over my shoulder when I bend to pick up my jeans. I hear his groan behind me as I slide them on. I can’t find my shirt, though, so I look around, coming up empty. I hear him clear his throat, and when I look up at him, he’s got it, holding it up to his chest.

  “Give me my shirt,” I say, tilting my head as I give him a disapproving look. He shakes his head no as he licks his lips, staring at my chest. “Benton!”

  “Come and get it, Sugar.”

  We have a stare-off, but I need to go, so with an eyeroll I climb onto the bed and crawl on my hands and knees up his legs until I’m straddling his lap. We both slept naked, so if he’s going to be an ass, so will I. I rub against his hard dick and reach for my shirt. But he’s too fast and his hand goes to my back, pulling me to him. His mouth lands on my breast, closing over my nipple. I close my eyes and let myself enjoy the feel of his tongue as it makes circles over the pebbled flesh.

  “Shit. OK, you win,” I tell him, leaning into him more, and I feel his smile against my breast. He’s such an ass. I smack his shoulder and climb off the bed. He’s laughing, arms behind his head, not trying to hide the fact that a small child could camp out under the tent he’s making with the sheet over his lap.

  I pull on my shirt and pile my hair up on top of my head. Leaning down, I squeeze his cheeks in my hand and peck his lips. “Bye, asshole!” I tell him as I turn to go.

  “Tonight, yeah?” he asks, wanting a repeat.

  “We’ll see.” I blow a kiss at him and throw in a smile while I’m at it. This whole thing is out of character for me, yet feels so right with him.

  “We will see! I’ll see your pussy tonight!” he yells as the door closes behind me. Asshole.

  Chapter Ten

  Benton

  Tatum and I have a good thing going. Not just the sex, although that is pretty fucking fantastic, but we also bring out this happy, playful side in each other. We don’t act on it when we see each other during “work hours,” as she calls it. But then that door closes, with the world locked away, and it’s just us. I never thought I’d be the guy to get married, but spending time with her makes me begin to think maybe I could do it with her. And all of a sudden, I don’t want to keep her hidden anymore. I want everyone to know that she’s mine and mine alone.

  We’re a couple months into the race circuit and getting closer to my home track in the UK. It’s one most racers dread because as its reputation stands, it is usually raining. Rain and race tires on a motorcycle aren’t exactly a good pair. For me and Alfie though, we’re used to it. Those other fuckers can suffer and be scared if they want.

  We’re in Italy this week, the home track for Moretti. Travers is still an ass, and with the battle for the top spot still strong, it’s looking like the three of us will be the ones duking it out at the end of the season. Moretti and I have a respect for each other. We’re competitors, but we still show the basics of respect out there on the track when it’s dog eat dog.

  Travers, on the other hand, doesn’t give a shit about respect or sportsmanship. That dickwad will clip, tap, or straight up knock you out if he wants. He’s the dangerous kind of racer. Riders like him keep the race alive and fans on their feet, but to his fellow racers, he’s a shithead who no one can stand.

  I’m walking up to get my good luck glimpse of my Sugar when I spot said asshole talking to my girl. “Don’t touch me. I’m not one of your girls. Get. Off.” I hear Tatum snarl and it sets my blood boiling.

  “She said get off, motherfucker!” I seethe, walking up to block her from him.

  “I simply wanted a picture. She’s beautiful, no?” he says with his French accent.

  “She is. She’s also mine. So back the fuck off.”

  His eyes widen for a second, and then he relaxes into a laugh. “Oh. Traveling pussy must be nice.” He eyes her up and down, and it grates on every one of my nerves. I take a step forward, ready to fight him to the ground, but I feel her hand on me. I see her shake her head from the corner of my eye, telling me to stop and not make a scene.

  “Don’t,” I grit out with my finger in his chest. “Don’t talk to her, look at her, think about her. Or I will destroy you.”

  “Perhaps she wants a winner at the end. I cannot forget then, no?” He smirks, winks at Tatum and then leaves.

  I move to go after him, but Tatum stops me again. “He’s not worth it. Don’t ruin everything you’ve achieved because he’s an ass-eater pussy.” A laugh bubbles out of me from her insult on him.

  “You’re right.” I drop my voice then so only she can hear me. “I want to kiss your pussy now, after hearing you say the word.”

  “Perhaps I do want a winner at the end of the night,” she says, mocking Travers’s words while batting her lashes. “You’re due a win. Maybe if you place, I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight.” And then she’s gone, and I’m left with a boner an
d the biggest reason ever to win today.

  I’m starting in the fourth position. Alfie is in third in front of me with Moretti at second and Travers at first. Alfie and I share a head nod of luck after our warm-up lap. The light changes to green, and we’re off. I have a good start and manage to get around both Alfie and Moretti from the start. We have twenty-four laps at this track, and this early, anything can happen. I never try to get too comfortable or cocky early on. A lot happens in these laps. Comfort settles in around halfway, and then as we near the last ten, everything shifts. Everyone speeds up, paces change, leaders change, more passes and advances happen. Everyone is out to gain as much as they can.

  I’ve been sitting at second behind Travers for a while. I feel someone gaining behind me, and if I don’t make a smart move at the next curve, they’re going to take me. From the board at my pit, I think it’s Moretti. Fuck! I go wide and he takes advantage, getting past me. I’m pissed at myself for letting that happen. I gun it trying to gain on him again to make a move and squeeze through where I can.

  Racing isn’t just about being a good driver and fast racer. It’s also about being smart and watching the others. It’s about learning their tells and habits and taking advantage of those. It’s part of what makes me a good racer. Just like Dad always says, “Be smart. Be wise. Be fast.” There’s a lot of truth in those words.

  I see an opening and push it, passing Moretti. He’ll be pissed later that I got through, but he’ll be a good sport about it. Now, I just have to hold him back these last five laps. Maybe I can take Travers in the meantime. It’ll be close, but I wouldn’t be a good racer if I gave up. I’m giving all I can, trying to get around him, but he’s blocking me at every try. Him doing that is slowing both of us down. Moretti could easily try to push there while we fight it out.

  Then, I see it. I see the break I need to take over Travers. I push the throttle and gun it as hard as I can. I feel the sweat rolling down my face, my heart pounding as adrenaline fires through my veins. I’ve got him! I pass him and smile, knowing how that’s going to taste to him.

  BAM!!

  I hear it before I feel it, I think. I’ve crashed plenty of times before. It’s a huge part of being a racer. Almost as normal as brushing your teeth every day. We’re taught how to crash in the safest ways.

  But this time my leg gets pinned under my bike and I spin with it across the track, skidding into the gravel. Then it flips, my leg caught with the tire for a second. Pain radiates up my leg. I lie there breathing. Thank God, I’m breathing. I haven’t had a crash like that in a long time. Typically, I can gracefully slide off the track and be fine. Guess my number was up on this one.

  Paramedics get to me, and I know my leg is broken. I think I might black out from the pain. They carry me on a stretcher and I remember them placing me in the ambulance, but after that, I pass out.

  * * *

  Tatum.

  I see her face. That’s all I see. I see that smile she tries so hard not to show anyone. I’m in and out of consciousness, but I stay focused on her.

  I hear her voice. “Benton, I’m here.” She takes my hand in hers and squeezes. “Are you awake? Oh my gosh, Benny. You awake?” her frantic voice asks.

  “I’m here, yeah?” A laugh pops from her. “Do it again, Sugar. I was dreaming of your smile, but your laugh is even better. It’s more of a rarity than a smile.”

  “You scared the shit out of me,” she says, brushing the hair from my face. I finally open my eyes to see her blues watching me. It looks like she’s been crying.

  “Were you crying?” I ask, reaching up to cup her face. She nods in my hand. “Don’t cry, Sugar. I’m OK.”

  “I know that now. But watching you crash like that and then get carried off. I was freaking out.”

  “Shhhh… it’s alright.”

  “I told your dad about us.”

  My eyes widen then. “I’m still living, so he was good with it then, yeah?”

  “It was the only way he’d let me in to see you. He said he thought it would happen.” She smiles. “Gosh, I was so worried.” She kisses my head.

  “My leg is broken. I remember that much.”

  “Yes. You broke your tibia and fibula bones. It was a clean break, though. You’ll wear a cast, maybe surgery.”

  “Come here. I need to feel you. Lie with me.”

  Without question, she crawls into the hospital bed with me. I think she needs to feel me as much as I need to feel her.

  “I told you, you could do whatever you wanted with my body. I think this is a little extreme to get your way, don’t you?”

  I kiss her neck. “Probably. But I don’t do anything half-assed.”

  “I know that’s true.”

  My leg throbs, but having Tatum here makes it better. I don’t know what will happen with racing after this, but I have to be positive that I can keep going.

  “Good thing it’s our mid-circuit break, yeah?”

  “You’re still going to race? You have a broken leg.”

  “I will if I can.”

  Silence. That’s what I get in response. That’s alright; she’s still learning about this life. She doesn’t see me sitting in ice baths after crashes. She doesn’t know the backaches I get from riding. She doesn’t understand how much the high from racing wins over all the bad. But maybe this won’t be as forever as I thought.

  * * *

  Two days after the crash, I had surgery to help set and heal the bones in a proper way. Tatum didn’t agree with me wanting to keep racing, but she also never left my side. I got lucky that after that race, we had a four-week break instead of the usual two weeks between races. It gave me extra time to heal before getting back on my bike.

  Which I did. Two weeks after surgery, despite still being bandaged up, I managed to get on my bike and ride the ring. Hurt like a motherfucker, but I did it. I’m not giving up this season because of a couple of broken bones. I’ve come too far to give up now. With the help of the doctor, crew, and painkillers, I was going to finish this season. If it killed me, I was going to make that podium again, and hopefully, it’d be in the number one spot.

  At least the crash that Travers caused took him out, too. It left Moretti, Alfie, and Delgado to take the podium that day. The overall standings have Travers and me close and battling for number one with Moretti on our tails and Alfie close behind him. I have to finish this season out. I have to.

  “How’d it feel?” Dad asks while one of the crew helps me off the bike.

  “Hurts,” I say with a laugh, “but I’ll be fine. I’m getting that trophy.”

  He pats me on the back. “You know I want that, too. But I also understand if you need to sit out a race or two, Benton. Not only are you my son, but you’re my driver who I’m invested in. I want to do what’s best for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, tell me about you and my girl,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Your girl?” I ask with a raised brow.

  He chuckles. “Just checking where you were at. No need to tell me more. I understand enough now,” he says with a raised hand to stop me from saying more.

  “I really like this one,” I confess with a smirk.

  “Treat her well and you’ll be fine. She’s a force, that’s for sure. She did not mince words with me about how she felt when I wouldn’t let her see you in the hospital,” he says with another chuckle.

  “Sorry for that surprise news with everything else. I would have told you after that day regardless. I knew earlier that day that I was ready to tell everyone she was mine.”

  “Be careful, son. But I’m happy for you if this is what you want.”

  “It is.” I look up and catch a glimpse of her joking with Alfie in the back of the garage. She’s got on her stone face, and he’s trying to get her to crack. The toughest woman I’ve ever met and the only one strong enough to put up with my bullshit.

  On my crutches, I hobble over to them. “How do you not get ma
de fun of at every corner?” Tatum asks Alfie.

  “What do you mean, beautiful?” he asks, pouring on his Alfie charms.

  “Bilbo? Your name rhymes with dildo. How do you not get laughed out of every race or called dildo on accident?” she sasses him. A deep rumble of laughter spills out of me causing her to look in my direction, her eyes catching fire with mine.

  “She’s got a point, mate,” I say to Alfie, who’s standing there with his mouth agape. Not like he’s never heard it before, but I doubt it’s ever been from a beautiful woman.

  “I will not talk about… those with a woman. That’s undignified!” he stutters.

  “I know you use them with women. Need a little help in the bedroom, yeah?” I tease him more.

  “Just because you’re on crutches doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass,” he says with a laugh.

  “Hey! I’m the only one who gets to touch his ass,” Tatum tells Alfie, whose eyes go even wider. He doesn’t know how to talk to women like her. He’s way too intimidated by strong women to say anything.

  “That’s it. I’m out. Good luck with this one, mate,” he tells me, hanging his head in defeat and leaving us.

  I pull Tatum into me, kissing her lips. “Come back with me,” I demand into her mouth.

  She hums in agreement. I plan on having my way with her. It’s been too long. Pegleg and all, I’m having my woman today.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tatum

  “Are you hungry?” Benton’s voice pulls me from my daze. I’m cuddled up next to him as we watch White Chicks.