Revolution: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  “Oh god—Garret.” I caught myself with a quick gasp, feeling him roll his hips and rub his tip against my G-spot.

  Desire soared through my blood, eviscerating oxygen in search of orgasm.

  “Now, ye canna drive this car without thinkin’ o’ me,” he grunted, sliding out and driving forward. “Without remembering me pinnin’ ye to the front of it.” I felt the sheen of sweat on his shoulders, every muscle in his body flexed with a single purpose—to bury himself as far inside me as he could go. “Without rememberin’ my name on yer lips and my cock wedged in yer sweet cunt.”

  “Garret,” I pleaded, brokenly, searching out his mouth and biting onto his taunting lips that chose speech when I needed action.

  “Without rememberin’ that I’d do anythin’ fer ye because ye deserve it, lass. Because I’m in love with ye.” I scored my nails over his shoulders and his head tipped back in pleasurable agony.

  Dragging one hand to his head, I curled my fingers into his hair and pulled his lips to mine.

  “I love you.”

  With a ragged growl, he gripped the edge of the Aeroscreen with one hand and my knee with his other. Resting his foot on the edge of the front wing as hard leverage, he thrust into me, jamming me against the screen with each punishing drive.

  I stole oxygen from his mouth as he stole sanity from my mind, replacing it with a pleasure I couldn’t comprehend, only be consumed by it.

  He was rough because I needed it.

  He made my body feel things I didn’t think it was capable of because I deserved it.

  And he left me with no recourse against his actions because I would do anything—willingly—for him, too.

  Because I loved him.

  Because I belonged here—and here would always be with him.

  The suspension of the car tremored under the force of his thrusts, my slick core spreading and welcoming each spear of his cock.

  “Fuck, lass.” He grunted, beginning to angle his hips at the end of each thrust—curl them into me and pressed the head of his cock right where I needed him. “Yer so wet. So fuckin’ wet fer me. Like yer cunt is tryin’ ta swallow me whole.”

  I gasped, feeling the need in his words in each and every one of my cells—especially the ones clenching around him.

  I clung to him and let go of reality.

  I let go of the fear that had driven me here.

  I let go of the fear that held me back.

  And I clung to him—the grouchy Irishman with a heart of gold.

  “Garret,” I gasped his name, feeling the waves pull me under. “Please… I need—Oh, god.” My eyes squeezed shut as my lungs seized, and with a breath that very well could’ve been my last, I gladly spent it on him. “I love you.”

  With a violence that was rarely achieved with pleasure, my body fractured under the strength of my orgasm. Grinding his cock into me, I lost sense of everything except the white-hot bliss that exploded from where we were joined.

  Blindly, I clung to him, my legs and feet shaking from where they’d been stabilizing me against his demanding thrusts.

  This was where there was nothing left between us.

  Not his past nor my future.

  Not his family nor my career.

  Nothing but us.

  Him and me.

  And it was heaven… it was everything.

  Distantly, I felt my back press against the windshield-like structure as he drove deep one last time, climaxing with a hoarse cry that seeped into every inch of my skin just as surely as the hot jets of his cum filled my core.

  His head dropped to the corner of my neck, harsh pants warming my pulse under the gentle pressure of his lips.

  “Christ, lass.” His rasp made my exhausted body tighten greedily around his pulsing length, eliciting a weak groan from his chest.

  “You survived.”

  He grunted. “I wouldna be too sure.”

  Slowly lifting himself above me, he slid a hand up to cup my cheek, brushing strands of revolting red waves back from my face and placed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

  “We can double-check again later.” I grinned and his head dropped with a laugh mingled with a groan.

  “Ye tryin’ ta kill me, lass?” he asked through tight teeth as he carefully lifted off of me, his semi-hard cock glistening under the lights as it bobbed in front of him.

  Extending his hands, I let him lift me up off the car, my dress laying like a battle-sunk flag over the nose.

  “Any chance your mechanic’s hands are good with a needle and thread?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I destroyed yer dress fer a reason. I won’t confess ta bein’ able ta fix it.”

  Garret

  While she probed me about my needleworking skills, I half-hauled my pants back on and grabbed her the spare shirt I carried in my bag.

  “How are you always prepared?”

  I laughed. “Prepared? Because a dirty mechanic carries a spare shirt?” I shook my head. “There is no preparin’ fer ye, lass.”

  She rolled her eyes but complied as I tugged it over her head.

  It fell safely to her thighs, but then Kacey took the mangled remains of her dress, the mess we’d made on it still drying, and tied it around her waist.

  “Should be enough to get us back to the hotel without too many long looks.”

  My jaw tightened.

  Notching my finger under her chin, I lifted her attention from her task.

  “About that talkin’, Kacey…” I rasped, my eyes locking on hers like a missile onto its target.

  Her eyes flashed. Her body was tryin’ to shift into fear again. Fear that she’d lose what she had because she didn’t deserve it. “We don’t have to do this now.”

  “We do, lass. We do.” I brushed my thumb over her pink cheek. “I do.”

  That was the truth. I had to do this—not just for her, but for myself.

  “What about the car?” she asked as I gathered our things and led her toward the door.

  “I think the car has had enough o’ us fer one night, lass. She’ll be there waitin’ fer me in the mornin’.” I squeezed her hand.

  I pulled her against me in the cab, locking her smaller form tight to my side as we rode in silence back to the hotel.

  This was the moment. And I knew she felt it like I did.

  Not the moment when you got everything you ever wanted. Not the moment right after it, filled with effusive elation. It was the third moment. The one where you questioned everything.

  How was this possible?

  Was this really mine?

  Was this real?

  Back at the hotel, minutes passed in a blink as we showered and climbed into the bed.

  “I love ye.”

  She sagged against me, tipping her face to mine. “I love you, too, Garret.”

  I couldn’t stop my hand from sliding around her neck as I pulled her lips to mine. Maybe this was why I’d refused to give her my name—because the way she said it put an end to all rational thought; the way she said it brought me to my knees.

  I settled for a long, slow kiss. I savored the need that lingered from the garage—the embers my tongue stoked back to life.

  Finally, with a small groan, I drew back and stared down into those bright green orbs.

  “Fer a long time, lass,” I began hoarsely. “All I let myself think about was all the things I couldn’t do. All the things I couldn’t do—couldn’t have because my brother couldn’t have them either. Because he was gone.”

  She shuddered, feeling the pain in each of my words. But it was a good pain. A healing kind of pain. I pressed my thumb against her lip—against where it was quivering so damn badly.

  “And then I met ye. And I told myself the stubborn, aggravatin’, beautiful driver was just one more thing I couldn’t have.”

  Her eyes blinked quickly, tears clinging to her long lashes and watering her cheeks even though she attempted a small chuckle.

  “I know I was a rude asshole, and I pus
hed ye away.” I cleared my throat. “I know I’ve made ye think this whole time that I can’t stand racing or this world or the people in it.”

  Her head shook slightly. “I can’t—I didn’t want to keep you in this world for me.”

  My finger pushed on the seam of her lips, pleading for her silence.

  “The truth is, lass, I couldn’t stand it because it reminded me of everythin’ I gave up to punish myself fer somethin’ that wasn’t my fault—somethin’ I regretted more than anythin’, but still somethin’ I didn’t cause,” I admitted hoarsely, and I saw the moment she recognized the insight she’d given me weeks ago. “Cars. Engines. The challenge. The race. It was always my dream, too—it still is. I just told myself fer so long I didn’t deserve it.”

  “Garret…”

  “But you, lass, wantin’ ye was somethin’ more than I could continue to punish myself for.” I brushed her tears away, leaving little streaks of dirt where the water dissolved it from my skin. “And lovin’ ye, lass… lovin’ ye is something far more than I can let ye continue thinkin’ ye don’t deserve.”

  She shuddered. “You didn’t have to do this, Garret,” she murmured with an unsteady breath.

  “Oh, I did, lass. I did.” I chuckled and, making sure I had her gaze, told her, “This was where my rubber met the road—or so a wise, teddy-bear loving girl told me.”

  Her eyes grew wide and her plump lips, reddened from my kisses parted.

  “This was where I stuck. Where there was no more space to doubt. To fear. Ta tell myself I didn’t deserve ye or deserve ta love ye, Kacey.” My head sunk closer to hers, desperate to kiss her again. “I’ve told Claire she needs ta fight fer these kind o’ things fer so long, and it’s time I stop tellin’ her and doin’ the opposite. It’s time I start showin’ her.” I dragged in a rough breath, feeling it go deeper into my lungs than ever before, like space had been cleared out with my confession. “This was where it was only me needin’ ta love ye, and there was nothin’ goin’ ta get in my way.”

  “Claire?” Kacey trembled.

  I nodded. “She gave me a good lashin’ about that day—about how I’ve been. And I realized it was time that you weren’t the only person she could look up to. I realized I wasna honorin’ Danny’s memory nor doin’ right by his daughter if all I was was a man who pushed people away in order to hold myself back. Claire deserves ta know that us, Gallaghers, went after what they wanted—went after what made them happy—no matter what obstacles were in the way.”

  “Garret…” The curve of her neck. The pink in her cheeks. The hum of her breaths. All the little pieces of her that slipped into the corners of my mind, making her unforgettable, and into the cracks of my heart, making her inescapable.

  With a groan, I pulled her roughly closer to me until our breaths mingled. Heated. Heavy. Aching.

  “I love ye, lass.” My voice was nothing but a deep cavern of rocks, heavy and hoarse with love and need and everything I’d left buried at the very pit of myself for so long.

  “I love you, too, Garret.” Her voice broke. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was just so afraid you’d regret this—resent me.”

  My heart slammed against my chest. “I could never resent ye, Kacey. And the only thing ye could do ta cause me regret, would be ta let me continue ta live in my past—ta continue ta bury myself in it right along with my brother.”

  Her eyes searched mine but my gaze held steady—held strong in the truth.

  “I know.” Her tongue dragged over her lips, wipin’ away the last of her doubt from her lips. “I’ve always felt like I wasn’t enough, and I’m starting to realize why. I’m starting to see all the little things that shaped me into someone who was so fearless and yet, so fearful at the same time.”

  “What are ye afraid of now?”

  She turned her face into my hand, her warm breath rushing into my palm.

  “Having you. And losing you.” She paused. “Letting you down. Losing the race.”

  “Hey…” I drew back her attention. “What did I tell ye about the race? About winning?”

  “That it’s not about winning. It’s about being there.” She gave me a sad smile. “But I want to win.”

  “Lass, if ye judge who ye are only by what ye win, ye’ll never find yerself good enough.” I exhaled low. “Sometimes, winnin’—really winnin’—has nothin’ ta do with what ye take home but with what ye leave behind long after yer gone.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Change.” Her eyes sparked. “You bein’ there is a break from the past. It means they can’t go back. I know ye can’t believe winnin’ will change their minds; ye know they’re too fuckin’ stupid for that. But no matter whose name is announced at the end, they have ta announce ye at the start. Gentlemen and Lady.”

  “They do,” she agreed quietly.

  “I can’t promise ye everythin’ or anythin’ will change on the track,” I rasped. “But I can promise ye that ye’ve changed everythin’ fer me. Yer my revolution. I thought what we had was impossible, and now, lookin’ back, I know it was inevitable.”

  “So, that’s why you offered to work for Donavan?”

  “I offered ta work fer him because that’s where my dream was headin’ before I cut it off. And now, you’ve brought me back there. And I’m not lettin’ you or it slip through my fingers again.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Was my offer part of the bargain, too?”

  I drew back. “What offer?”

  Her tongue slid over her lower lip. “Donavan hinted… more than hinted… that he wants me to drive for him after this season is done.”

  My eyes grew wide. “That feckin’—no.” I cleared my throat. “No, it wasn’t. I didn’t even know, though I had a feelin’ somethin’ was brewin’ in that pretty head of his. Before I left his house, he told me he was goin’ ta give me more than an engine, but after everythin’ was sorted, there was nothin’ else.”

  I let out a short laugh. Donavan knew the whole time, the bastard. As soon as I told him I was there for her, he knew that the engine… the job… wasn’t the only thing he was givin’ me—he was givin’ me a future tied to her on the track.

  “I didn’t ask because I had what I needed, but he knew this whole time he was goin’ ta offer you a spot on the team—that he’d give us a chance ta continue workin’ together. Damned arrogant—”

  Her lips on mine cut me off.

  “I think the words you were looking for were ’thank you,’” she teased. “Although, he shouldn’t have been so reluctant to tell me there was a brilliant, brash, and demandingly sexy Irishman included in my deal.”

  I grunted and searched her eyes. “Yer going ta take it?”

  It was a question, but the roughness of my tone didn’t come across that way.

  This was it. Our future that we would’ve figured out regardless, grew intertwined with two selfless acts.

  Hers to save me from a future she thought would hurt.

  And mine to give her another shot at a dream I knew she deserved.

  “And if I don’t?” she murmured, pressing herself flush against me. My body lit up, and the end of the conversation came into view. “Are you going to tell me that I belong there? Or do you only tell me when I don’t belong places?”

  Desire charged through my veins like electricity through water. Violent and deadly.

  Sliding my mouth along her jaw, I settled my lips next to her ear, biting the shell firmly. “I’ll tell ye that ye belong with me every damn day fer the rest of our lives, lass, if that’s what ye need,” I said with a low, husky voice. “But yer goin’ ta learn real quick that I much prefer showin’ ye over tellin’.”

  “I much prefer when you show me, too.”

  So I did.

  Kacey

  “TIME TO SHOW THEM WHAT you’re made of, girl.” Renner reached out and squeezed my shoulder.

  Meeting his gaze, I had to wonder if he’d known all along what my being here meant—why he’d ca
lled me ‘girl’ all this time.

  I smiled, but before I could reply, I heard my dad call across the pavement.

  “Speedy!”

  I turned and my excitement dissolved into shock seeing my mom beside him. I knew she was coming today, but I assumed she’d stay up in the stands; even with earplugs, this close to the track would be ear-splitting.

  My dad wrapped me in a huge hug.

  “So proud of you, Speedy,” he murmured before kissing my cheek and stepping aside to let my mom have a turn.

  “What are you doing here?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking even as I squeezed her tight.

  She pulled back with a gasp and waved my concern away. “My daughter is driving the Indianapolis 500, where else would I be?”

  I smiled. “It’s loud down here.”

  She poked my shoulder through the fire suit. “You know what’s loud? This mom as she cheers her daughter on.”

  I laughed and hugged her again. “I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted for me.”

  She reached up and cupped my face. “What do you mean?”

  Healing starts with the truth, so I told her. “You told me I was too smart to race.”

  Pain flashed in her eyes, and I could see that she’d forgotten her short statement said in a moment when her head was throbbing all those years ago; I could see that she never imagined I’d remember it, let alone take it to heart.

  “No mother wants to see her baby do something so dangerous,” she began with a remorseful sigh, reaching up to hold my face. “But you are too smart, Kacey Snyder… too smart to listen to your mother when she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

  My shoulders shook, and we both fought—and failed—not to cry.

  I realized we were embracing again only when I felt a small tap on my shoulder and a warm Irish lilt in my ear.

  “Time to go, Kacey.”

  Garret quickly greeted my parents who’d shared dinner with us last night before escorting me over to the car with a possessive hand resting against the small of my back.

  We stopped next to the car and I looked up, letting his gaze warm me.

  “I love you.”

  “I love ye, too.” He handed me my helmet, but before I could put it on, his fingers nudged up my chin. “Take it to the limit one more time, lass.”