Revved

by Samantha Towle

  My mouth drops open. He’s such a…Neanderthal! But God…so hot.

  Carrick reaches to the nightstand and gets a condom from the drawer. I try not to think of how many of the condoms from that pack have already been used on other women.

  He has the condom on in record time, and he is back on me, pinning my body with his with my hands above my head. Without another word, he thrusts inside me.

  I gasp at the fullness of him, my body tensing around him.

  He stills, his whole body rigid, and his eyes close tight, almost like he’s in pain. “Jesus…you’re so fucking tight.”

  His eyes open, and the look in them makes my breath catch and my heart pound.

  “How long has it really been?” He knows my little I-said-I-haven’t-been-in-a-relationship-in-two-years-not-that-I-haven’t-been-with-anyone speech at the party was bullshit.

  I close my eyes. “A while…but not long enough to seal me back up to virgin status. Maybe you’re just really big.” I push a smile onto my lips as I lift my legs and slide them around his back.

  I feel his responding chuckle vibrate through me. “Not arguing with you there, babe. But tell me, how long? I want to know.” He brushes his lips over mine, making me quiver with need.

  I open my eyes to his, a blush creeping on my cheeks. I’m not used to talking about past conquests with present guys, especially not with one who is currently inside me. “Eighteen months or so.”

  “How is that even possible?” He shakes his head, disbelieving. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  I shrug, looking away. “Honestly, I don’t know. There just hasn’t been anyone I wanted to sleep with, I guess.”

  That brings a cocky grin to his face. “Yet here I am.” He nudges his hips against mine, pushing his cock in further.

  Holding back a moan, I playfully swat his arm. “Are we gonna talk about my sexual history all night? Or are you actually going to fuck me?”

  Bringing his face down to mine again, he kisses me, nipping my lower lip with his teeth. He licks the sting away. “Oh, I’m definitely going to fuck you.” He pulls out and slams back in hard but then stills again.

  Releasing my hands, he traps my head between his forearms, his fingers threading into my hair. He stares down at me, and something in his expression changes. I get the sudden feeling of falling.

  “Andressa, this…with you, is so much better than I ever imagined it could be.”

  My breath catches, leaving me feeling off balance. I close my eyes.

  “Just…fuck me, Carrick…please.”

  “Open your eyes.”

  The moment I do, he pulls out of me and then, drives back inside, all the while holding my stare. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes,” I moan.

  His grip on my hair tightens as he starts to fuck me, slamming in and out, my body pinned to the bed by his.

  “More…harder,” I beg.

  Dipping his head, he kisses me with all the desperation I know I’m feeling as he pounds in and out of me, giving me exactly what I want.

  Then, he’s kneeling up and taking hold of my leg, moving it around to the other side of his body. Tilting my hips, he starts up again, this time with slower thrusts. His fingers find me, and he starts to tease my clit.

  “Carrick…” I moan.

  “That’s it, babe.” His voice is raw and raspy as his tempo increases, moving in and out of me with confident hard thrusts.

  Then, without warning, I’m coming, crying out his name. It’s like a mirror of explosions, all ricocheting off one another, never-ending, creating the most amazing orgasm I’ve ever had.

  “Jesus…”

  I blink open my eyes at the tone in Carrick’s voice. His eyes are on me and filled with what I think is awe.

  “What?” I whisper shyly. Was I too loud? I’ve been known to be quite vocal at times.

  “Nothing.” He shakes his head, blinking rapidly. “You just…I’ve never…felt anything like that before.”

  I suddenly have this feeling like someone is standing on my chest.

  I place my hand over the ache.

  Leaning in, he kisses me again, deeply, his tongue tangling with mine.

  The next thing I know, he’s breaking away from my lips, and I’m moving, being lifted up. Carrick sits back on his haunches, bringing me with him to sit in his lap, with my back against his chest and my legs on either side of his.

  And he does all of that while keeping his cock inside me. The man is a goddamn magician.

  “Ride me,” he groans in my ear as his hands slide up to cup my breasts. He starts to tease my nipples, gently tugging on them.

  My head falls back, desire flooding me. Gripping his arms for support, I rise up on my knees, feeling his cock easily glide out of me, and then I slam back down on him.

  “Fuck. Yeah, just like that,” he growls, his grip on my breasts increasing.

  Feeling empowered at how I’m making him feel, I start to ride him like I’m a goddamn porn star. Okay, maybe porn star is pushing it, but I’m doing a damn fine job, if I do say so myself, and Carrick seems like he’s enjoying it from the words of heated praise he keeps groaning in my ear.

  His hand slips between my legs, his fingers touching my clit again, but I’m still overly sensitive from my epic orgasm only minutes ago.

  I press my hand to his, stopping him. “Carrick, no, I can’t again—”

  “Hush,” he admonishes. “You can, and you will. I want to feel you come again.”

  He sounds so fucking hot when he’s being dominant that I don’t even argue. I just remove my hand from his and let him work his magic.

  And wouldn’t you know it? In record time, I’m right back there, climbing the precipice to heaven.

  “Carrick…” I whimper. I need to press my legs together to somehow relieve the pressure yet part them and never have him stop.

  Without warning, I’m lifted off him and flipped onto my back. Then, Carrick’s head is between my legs, and his mouth is on me.

  “Oh my God!” I cry out, my hands gripping his head.

  He pushes his tongue where his cock was only moments ago. Then, he’s sucking on my clit and wrenching my second orgasm of the night from me in seconds, leaving me yelling his name and my body dropping lax into the bed.

  He climbs up my body, hands on the bed, and he hovers over me.

  I stare up at him in wonderment.

  His lips are glistening with me, his eyes dark, the skin on his face taut. He looks like a man holding on to the edge of control, which is fast slipping away. He runs his tongue over his lower lip, tasting me. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

  I raise my hips to his, letting him know what I want—him back inside me. Honestly, I never want him to leave.

  Gripping my hip, he pushes that amazing cock of his in, shoving right up to the hilt. His hand moves from my hip to cup my behind, angling me up, so he can slide deeper.

  I watch him with fascination as he fucks me, revealing in how truly beautiful he is, even more so as he reaches that moment where all sense is gone, and the only thing that matters now is reaching orgasm. Pure animalistic fucking.

  “Fuck! Andressa…” he says, drawing out my name, his body shuddering. The veins in his neck are straining, his eyes closing as if it’s all too much, while he rides out his orgasm inside me.

  When he’s finished, his head drops to my shoulder, panting. We’re both sticky with sweat, desperately trying to catch our breaths.

  Oh my God, I just had sex with Carrick! Hot, sweaty sex…and it was amazing!

  Lifting his head from my shoulder, he cradles my face in his hands and kisses me. “I’m just gonna go clean up,” he murmurs.

  I give a gentle nod, and then he’s slipping out of me, leaving me feeling oddly empty.

  I watch as he walks to the bathroom, loving the sight of his tight arse, and I’m surprised to see that Carrick has a tattoo on his back. A really large tattoo of what looks to be a fallen a
ngel.

  Maybe that’s what he is—my fallen angel.

  No! Stop thinking like that. Carrick isn’t your anything, and he never will be.

  Once the bathroom door has closed, I cover my face with my hands and let out a muted squeal.

  Holy shit! I just had amazing sex with Carrick, like porn star sex—only better!

  Okay, deep breaths…calm. He’ll be back in a minute.

  I hear water running in the bathroom. Moving my hands from my face, I stare up at the ceiling, forcing my breaths to even out.

  The adrenaline is starting to fade. I retrace those words in my head again.

  I had sex with Carrick.

  Oh God. I slept with a driver. The very one I work for.

  I had sex with my friend.

  All of my promises to myself, and I break them in the most epic way.

  What’s going to happen now?

  The bathroom door opens, revealing Carrick, before my panic can properly set in.

  I sit up. Bringing my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around them.

  Carrick’s gaze is soft on me.

  I feel that softness deep inside of me, like a gentle caress, and it scares the shit out of me.

  I see that he has a washcloth in his hand.

  “I thought you might want to clean up,” he explains, walking over to the bed.

  “Thanks.”

  I reach for the cloth, but instead of giving it to me, he gently parts my legs with one hand and presses the cloth to me with the other.

  Bloody hell. No wonder he has so many women wanting to stay with him if he cares for them like this—aside from the obvious hotness that is Carrick and the amazing sex and orgasms he gives, of course.

  All of the guys I’ve slept with have rolled over and gone to sleep the second they were done, leaving me to fend for myself.

  I watch his face while he cleans me. The way his long lashes brush his cheekbones each time he blinks. The multitude of blue hues, which all blend together to make his stunning eye color. He’s perfect.

  Carrick suddenly looks up, catching me staring, making my cheeks stain. Holding my gaze, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips.

  My heart actually skips a beat. Stupid heart.

  He tosses the cloth onto the dresser and climbs on the bed beside me. He cages me in with his long legs, his arms coming around me, and he presses a kiss to my shoulder.

  I feel kind of awkward now. I mean, he’s being really sweet and everything, but I’m not sure what I should do. Of course I’ve had one-night stands before but never with someone who’s my friend…someone I work for, whom I have to see again in a few hours’ time.

  Should I leave?

  Yes, I probably should go. Carrick doesn’t do repeats, and I shouldn’t have done this in the first place, no matter how amazing it was. And he has a race tomorrow. He needs his rest.

  Resting my chin on my shoulder, I look at him. “I should go. Let you get some sleep. You have a race tomorrow.”

  His brow furrows. “No, stay.” He swallows a breath. “I really want you to stay.”

  I bite my lip, scared by how much I do want to stay with him. I really shouldn’t…but I don’t seem to have it in me to fight my wants versus what’s right in this moment. “Okay.” I smile gently.

  Warmth fills his eyes.

  I move so he can pull the covers back. I climb inside. He gets in next to me, lying down and facing me. He brushes my hair back from my forehead.

  It feels intimate.

  I know, with everything we just did, and I say him brushing hair from my face feels intimate, but it just somehow does, so much more than the hot sex.

  “I didn’t know you had a tattoo,” I say, trying to change the direction of my thoughts.

  “Yeah.”

  “When did you get it done?”

  “A week after I signed with Formula One. It was my present to myself.”

  “Youngest ever driver to sign. I’d have thought you’d have bought a house or something extravagant like that.”

  “Buying a house was the last thing on my mind back then.” He smiles.

  “Yeah, I guess partying and women were at the forefront.” They still are.

  The smile drops from his face, and he looks away. “Something like that. Anyway, I wasn’t the youngest driver. I was the same age as William Wolfe when he signed with Formula One.”

  Hearing Carrick say my father’s name jolts me, reminding me why I shouldn’t be here in his bed. My heart starts to pound.

  “Hey, you okay?” His fingers touch my cheek.

  “Fine.” I force a smile, trying to calm my racing heart. “Can I have a look at your tattoo?” I need him to stop touching me, stop looking at me the way he is. It’s too much.

  “Sure.” Carrick rolls onto his stomach, so I straddle his back, sitting on him.

  The tattoo is of a fallen angel. A man is bowing down, head lowered, his wings shielding his body. There’s script right above it, spanning the length of his shoulder blades.

  PAIN IS TEMPORARY. VICTORY IS FOREVER.

  It’s beautiful.

  I trace my finger over it. “It’s beautiful, Carrick.” Just like you.

  He lifts his head from the pillow and looks back at me, chuckling. “Never tell a man that his tattoo is beautiful, babe. Tell him it’s badass but never beautiful.”

  “Sorry.” I laugh. “It’s totally badass.” I put on a gruff voice, trying to sound dude-like. “It’s the most badass-ist tattoo I’ve ever seen.”

  “Badass-ist?” He raises a brow.

  “It’s a word.” I grin. “Well, in my world it is anyway.”

  “You’re crazy.” He laughs, making me smile. Reaching back, he wraps a hand around my wrist and tugs me forward. I fall off his body to the mattress, lying beside him. Lifting up, he pulls me to him and maneuvers me beneath his body. He frames my face in his hands. “But I really, really like Andressa Amaro’s crazy world—a lot.”

  My heart and head collide, causing panic to ripple through me, but it’s all swallowed up by his kiss. And the exact moment his tongue slides against mine, everything disappears, except for him.

  He kisses me for what seems like forever. Gentle and tender. And I don’t ever want him to stop.

  When he finally does stop, lifting his face from mine, he gives me such a look of want that my heart actually aches.

  I can’t fall for him. I can’t.

  “I should get some sleep if I want to win tomorrow,” he says on a stifled yawn.

  “Of course.” My voice trembles. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

  He reaches over and turns the light off. Then, he pulls me to him. Tucking me into his side, he tangles his legs up with mine. He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Night, babe,” he murmurs, his voice already sounding sleepy.

  “Night,” I whisper, my eyes still wide open.

  I AWAKE WITH A START. It’s still dark out, but the sun is starting to rise. And there’s a warm solid body wrapped around me.

  Carrick.

  I’m in his bed.

  And we had sex.

  Amazing hot sex.

  Images flash through my mind of the night before, making me tingle in all the right places. But what also comes with those images and tingles, now that the champagne and sex-crazed hormones have worn off, is a mixture of regret and concern.

  I slept with Carrick.

  A driver.

  I broke my cardinal rule.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I can’t believe I did that. Well, I can believe it…but you know what I mean.

  And worst of all, I’m feeling things I shouldn’t be. Like how amazing his body feels wrapped around mine and the desire to never leave.

  Wanting more. Wanting him. Again and again.

  Oh God.

  I can’t think this way. Not that Carrick would ever want to be with me long-term. He’s a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy. But this is about me, what I’m feeling for him. Th
at’s the problem. I can’t be crushing on him.

  And right now, here in his arms, I’m way too comfortable. It’s time for me to go.

  Carefully, I slide my leg out from between his. Holding my breath, I wait to make sure that I haven’t woken him. When I’m sure he’s still asleep, I lift his arm and slide out of bed like I’m some kind of ninja.

  Staring down at him in the dark, I resist the urge to brush back the hair falling across his forehead.

  He’s beautiful.

  And I really need to get the hell out of here.

  I step away from the bed, and being as quiet as humanly possible, I tiptoe around, picking up my discarded clothing.

  Taking them with me, I go into the living room and dress quietly and quickly.

  Remembering that my clutch is still in Carrick’s jacket pocket, I retrieve it from where we left it in the entryway last night in my haste to get it off him.

  Memories of last night flood my mind. Carrick kissing me in this very spot, touching me…how much I wanted him. My body starts to ache to go back to him, to curl myself around him and never let go.

  It would be so easy to take this dress back off, go in there, slide back into his arms, and wait to see what would happen when he wakes up.

  But I can’t.

  So, I hang his jacket up on the hook. And with my heels and clutch in hand, I quietly let myself out of his suite.

  I go to the elevator. The hotel is dead. I check the time on my phone—6:03 a.m.

  When the elevator arrives, I get in the empty space and press the button to my floor.

  Padding barefoot down the hall to my room—thankfully not seeing a soul—I slot the key card in the door, trying to be as quiet as possible, so not to wake Petra. But the sound of the lock clicking open sounds really loud in the quiet.

  Closing the door softly behind me, I move through the room, placing my shoes on the floor in the entryway. I put my clutch and key card down on the dresser.

  “Seeing as though you’re coming home at the crack of dawn, I’ll take it that you had a good night?”

  “Jesus!” I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of Petra’s voice. “You frightened the shit out of me!” My heart is pounding like a bitch.

  Laughing, she clicks the lamp on, temporarily blinding us both, and then she rolls over in bed to face me. “So, you shagged Carrick then?” She has the smuggest grin on her face.