Chevelle 6x9

by Sapphire Knight

  Ace steps up beside me. “All drivers are ready. They listened to your suggestion and didn’t bring their race vehicle on the property until thirty minutes ago, and I’ve had someone watching them all in case one of the drivers needs to leave for a minute or whatever.”

  “Good, thank you.”

  “I didn’t like the last race any more than you. I don’t want you hurt, Chevy.”

  Smiling gratefully, I nudge his shoulder like I would if he were an older brother. He’s always reminded me of what it’d be like to have one. “All right, let’s get started. The sooner we can erase the last race from their minds, the better.” I nod toward the stands, and he agrees.

  “I’ll signal the music.”

  “And I’ll line up.”

  I quickly peer around and hightail it to my ivory painted nineteen sixty-eight Dodge Charger RT. It’s been a few weeks since I drove him and it’s his turn to have a little fun on the track. Mercenary’s distracted and hasn’t had a chance to dig into me again about racing tonight. Not that I’d listen to him if he tried—he doesn’t own me and never will. The man will learn that I do whatever the fuck I want to.

  “Flower” by Moby begins to play through The Pit speakers, and a smile takes over. I haven’t heard this song in forever, and I love to race to it. There’s something about the beat; it’s made to be listened to in a fast car.

  I slide into the matching buttery soft leather seats—the beautiful chiffon color complementing the beast of a car and slide the key in the ignition. My stomach flutters excitedly as I twist the key and he thunders to life. He sounds like a grouchy old bastard pissed off for being woken up. No worries, he’ll be purring like a kitten once I give him a little gas.

  Pushing the link’d button, the stereo inside syncs to the speakers blaring through the dome. At the roar of my engine, Mercenary’s gaze pins on me, and boy does he look furious. I send him a little wave with my fingers and romp on the gas. The car fishtails before straightening for the line. It’s been too long since I drove him. He seems a bit angry with me.

  “It’s okay, baby,” I soothe and rub my hand along the ebony dash. Yes, I talk to my vehicles. Anyone in their right mind who loves their cars speaks to them.

  The other three vehicles I’ll be going against roll up, lining up around my spot. My car rumbles, just waiting to be set free to whip some ass. The song changes, and right on cue, the passenger door swings open, a large body sliding in. I’m so focused on the sound of my engine and exhaust, gearing up for my race that it takes a moment to grasp that he’s right next to me.

  My mouth drops open. “What the hell? You can’t be in here!” I yell as the engines around me drown out the music. I’m racing against some experienced fuckers, and I don’t need Mercenary distracting me right now.

  He whips the belt across his chest. “Bullshit. You want to race when it’s not fucking safe, then I’m riding with you.”

  “You’re like two hundred fucking pounds, man, get out!” I yell, pissed and glare at his stone cold blue eyes. The smoke slowly creeps up, surrounding the vehicles and cocooning us as various racers smoke out their tires.

  My foot presses on the gas, my engine roaring in response as the car shakes, wanting to be let loose. It’s to warm the engine up, and it also helps play a part in psyching out my opponents. They know I race to win, no matter what I drive, but Mercenary is adding unnecessary weight to my ride. It’s one of the reasons I don’t have a massive sound system in my car. I do without big speakers, and in return, my car weighs less than the others.

  “I’m not moving, so if you want to win, I suggest you pay attention.”

  “I’m so kicking your ass for this shit,” I swear as the song changes to ‘Zombies’ by The Cranberries and the race begins.

  I let up the brake, and the car’s so powerful the front end lifts off the ground. All of my cars do, and I freaking love the feeling of immense horsepower at my fingertips. Mercenary’s arms shoot out with a curse, one holding the dash, the other gripping the oh shit handle like it’s life or death for him. An evil smile takes over as we slam back to the ground and the Charger shoots forward as if the devil’s nipping at its heels.

  My rear tires squeal even though I already ran the set of rubber earlier and Mercenary shouts, “How is this legal?”

  I scream at the distraction. “Shut the fuck up, cupcake!” I shift gears and swerve to the right, blocking the clown coming up behind me. I have to concentrate. It’s the main reason I always win—not the car, but because I pay attention, I don’t get sidetracked. I’m sure he growls in response, but I shut everything out and race. There’s five grand on the line, and I don’t plan on losing it.

  We head around the last turn, and one of the cars bumps my rear end. I swerve, nearly losing control, but keep my cool as I sail over the finish line. As we pull to a stop, I leap out of my car and fly for the other driver.

  He’s just climbing out when I lay into him. My fist flies at his face in spite of his carelessness. We have rules in place to keep drivers as safe as possible. It’s already dangerous enough driving at that speed on an enclosed track around so many people, but this asshole wants to rub me? “You hit my damn car!” I yell and throw another punch.

  He reciprocates with a punch of his own. He has enough muscle behind it, I see stars for a moment, and then I hear a roar. I’m thrown to the side as two hundred pounds of pissed off alpha makes ground beef of the dude’s face that just hit me. I stand there, shocked as I witness why the guy I’ve come to push around without a second thought is called Mercenary. The man wails into the other guy with such speed and strength the asshole’s knocked out within moments of it even beginning.

  Odin and Torch hurry to him, each grabbing for the mammoth of a man, taking hits in the midst of pulling him off the unconscious body below him. They eventually wrestle him off, but it’s no easy feat. Breathing deeply, I stare, wide-eyed. Mercenary could’ve easily killed the other driver.

  I lost my temper, and he fed off of it, going ballistic. The man is raw power, ready to dole out punishment. It makes me think that when I flipped him before, that he touched me with kid gloves. The animal in front of me could’ve killed me that day if he’d wanted to. Instead, he pulled my hair and stared at me like he wanted to fuck me. Jesus Holy Wow Christ.

  Ace is by my side the next time I blink. “You okay?”

  I swallow and nod. “My cheek is throbbing, but it won’t hurt too badly until my adrenaline wears off.”

  “You could’ve wrecked, had that asshole hit you off to the side, and you spun out.”

  “I know. I was so pissed I couldn’t stop myself.”

  He nods. “I figured.” Our gazes lock on the rear of my Charger. “At least the car’s good.” He’s right, there’s paint on the bumper, but it’ll buff off.

  “I love old cars,” I sigh in relief. I would’ve been even madder had it been dented up.

  “Me too,” he agrees. “What are you going to do with him?” He gestures to the guy on the ground.

  “Someone drag him out back and drive his car out too.”

  “You want him banned?”

  I nod. Whoever drives his car outside will spray paint “banned” across both sides of his car. He’ll be pissed, but he’s lucky I let him keep his car after breaking the rules. I should be a real bitch and send it to a chop shop.

  I make my way to a panting Mercenary. My palm finds his cheek, his crazed gaze finding mine. “You okay, big guy?” I swear he grows an extra foot taller and wider when he gets into a fight. He was massive the last time the Iron Fists came to my office too.

  “I’d be better if you’d listened to me and parked the damn car.”

  I roll my eyes and Odin interrupts us. “Prez wants you at the club, right now.”

  “I’m racing next,” Mercenary argues.

  Odin shakes his head. “Forget the race. Head back before more shit hits the fan.”

  “You tol
d him I was in the car with Chevelle?” His brow furrows.

  “I had to; he told me if you tried to stop her from racing to call him immediately.”

  “Fuck!”

  We’ve caused a big enough scene; I can’t do more drama without losing business. Last week it was a bomb, this week a near wreck, and then an all-out brawl. We need to get out of here so the others can race.

  “Hey, Titus,” I call to one of the workers on the track. “Park my Charger in his spot, please.”

  “Okay, boss.” The kid nods and hops into my car eagerly.

  “Let’s go to the club, Mercenary.”

  “No, I’m racing and staying here to keep you safe.”

  “Fine.” I shrug and start walking to my other cars. “Then I’ll go by myself and tell Viking all about tonight,” I threaten and quicken my steps.

  “You’re a fucking tattle tale now? Is that how you’re going to play this?” I hear him behind me, his voice getting closer. I know he’s chasing me down, his fast stride easily catching up.

  I hop in my Chevelle and push my door lock down. He watches me on my side and with a huff, rounds to the passenger side, sliding in and slamming my door.

  “I hit that fucker back there because he touched you! None of it would’ve happened if you’d listened to me, damn it!” he grumbles, and I start the Chevelle, heading for the bay in the back. Ace will take care of everything here for the time being.

  13. A king only bows down to his queen.

  - 100XSUCCESS

  I can’t believe she went against everything I warned her about and decided to race. She’s so damn stubborn. The woman has me vibrating with anger. I can’t believe she hit that fucker rather than letting me take care of it for her. I would’ve killed him had my brothers not wrestled me off.

  “You’re infuriating, the most difficult damn woman I’ve come across.”

  “You’re no spring picnic yourself, you know. You come into my life, demanding to take over. It won’t happen with me, I don’t need to be smothered.”

  “If I want to take over, you’d know it, and it’d fucking happen.” Smothered my fucking ass, I’ve stayed so far back when it comes to being all up in her shit. She thinks this is bad, she hasn’t seen smothered yet. Once this bitch is mine, she won’t be able to walk five feet away without me knowing about it.

  “Oh really? Is that what you think?” she huffs, her cheeks turning a sweet shade of pink with her frustration. “Clearly you didn’t catch my drift when we first met or every day since then!”

  “I caught it, trust me. You need me to spank your ass and fuck you until you break.”

  Chevelle’s gaze flashes to me. “I let you spank me.” Her eyes train back on the road in front of us. She’s driving way too fast, still pumped up from the race and the fight no doubt.

  Arguing with her only increases my heart and turns me on. “And you were soaked from it. You need to be fucked, Chevelle, and hard. You need to feel what it’s like to have a real man between those thighs and in your life.”

  She snorts and my face flushes, not being able to show her right this second. My cock wants to be buried in her so badly it’s on my damn mind constantly. Prez was right about me not being able to focus. Especially when she gets like this, all wound up and gorgeous and shit. Fuck.

  “You won’t break me, Mercenary,” she declares, and I respond with a smug smirk, watching her breasts heave with each heavy breath she draws in and exhales.

  “The hell I won’t. When this is over and done with, you’ll be begging me for more. I’ll have my cock in you so deep you won’t be able to speak, and when I finally let you, it’ll be my name on that tongue.”

  “Does your ego have no bounds?” She shakes her head.

  If she only had a clue—my ego’s bigger than this damn car. I’ve had way too many women to not be confident when it comes to my cock and the female anatomy. Women love me when I’m eight inches deep. I may not be able to bend her to my will right this moment, but I can tease her a bit.

  Turning in my seat, I reach across with my right hand, tweaking her nipple.

  She sputters, her mouth dropping open as a deeper blush spreads across her cheeks and chest. “What are you doing? I’m driving!”

  “Exactly...and I’m doing whatever the hell I want to,” I grumble, and my left hand takes over, plucking her now erect nipple. My right hand lands on her thigh and the gas falters momentarily as I catch her by surprise. My palm slides up her thigh, closer to her core and her neck moves as she swallows, trying to remain unaffected.

  “Mercenary?” It leaves her with a breath, the sound making my shaft grow.

  “Right here, sweetie.”

  “You have to stop, I’m driving.”

  “Nah, don’t think so.” My palm stops at her juncture. I move my fingers and palm against her core, her back arching her chest against my other hand.

  “Oh!” Chevelle moans. “I’m not fucking you. When I park this car, this stops,” she threatens, and I continue to rub her until she’s a turned on, whimpering mess. “You should’ve trusted me back there,” she mumbles, her thoughts jumping back to earlier and then back to the present.

  “If you want my trust, Chevelle, you’ll have to give some first. And this body is aching; it needs me to fuck it. You want me just as much, whether you admit it or not.”

  “That’s not how this works, Mercenary.”

  We arrive at the club far too soon in my opinion. I was enjoying being in the position to drive her crazy and her not being able to stop it without pulling the car over. She brings the vehicle to a stop, and we both hop out, rounding the front until we meet in the middle. Chevelle believes she’s in control. She’s the most infuriating woman when she attempts to fight me for dominance.

  “I’m the fucking alpha, Chevelle. I run this shit,” I declare with a harsh growl, glowering down into her horny stare. Those eyes of hers are swirling with emotion. She’s pissed and turned on all at once, and boy is she the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen when she gets like this.

  “Others may put up with your Neanderthal ways, but I don’t. I’m in control,” she hisses. “That back there was bullshit. You weren’t being fair!”

  Another growl rumbles my chest. “In control?” I ask with a deadly undertone lacing my voice as I lean in, my nose a hair’s breadth away from touching hers. “Fuck control! I take it. I own it. You want control, pet? Too fucking bad, ‘cause I bend it to my fucking will. You will bend.”

  My hand flies to her toned bicep, yanking her to me like a rag doll; my other grabs her high ponytail and wrenches her head back. She moans at my dominant behavior, wanting to possess every ounce of the control she thinks she has. “You’re mine,” I declare and slam my mouth to hers.

  I take the kiss. Stealing whatever bit she’ll offer me of herself. I have to own her. I need this woman on my cock too fucking badly to be gentle with her. Our teeth clash, both of us strung so tightly and wanting to dominate the other.

  I hold her so tightly to me that she can barely move. Her breath’s come out ragged as she attempts to catch her breath in the midst of me owning her mouth with mine. Nails that she’s bitten down to the skin try to rake over my chest, dragging me to her and pushing me away all at the same time. Chevelle fights the desire we’re both so desperately filled with. She calls to my body like none other—it’s the type of craving that’ll make a man lie, cheat, and kill to possess it.

  Wrenching back from her blissful lips, I draw in a few deep breaths, and in the next blink I’m grabbing her other arm and slamming her back down onto the hood of her car.

  “I’m not yours,” she chokes out, glaring daggers at my mouth. The mouth that just stole a kiss from hers, that branded her until her lips reddened and swelled to a delicious pout.

  “Keep telling yourself that. I’ve already decided you’re mine and I take whatever the fuck I want.”

  She burns for me; I can see it.
Her nipples are hard through the thin tank top material, her cheeks flushed. My nostrils flare as her scent hits me. Her pussy is wet and ready, and I’ve barely even begun to touch her. It’s enough to cloud my vision as I jump forward, taking over every ounce of her space. Shoving her up farther on the hood, her body’s sprawled against the warm metal. She’s angry, needy, and absolutely beautiful.

  Without another thought, my hands yank her tank top, ripping the thin cotton in half. Flinging the barrier to the side, her tits left exposed. Her breasts heave as she draws in a stunned breath at my so-called Neanderthal ways.

  “You tore my fucking shirt!” Her hands fly toward my chest, shoving me hard once and then grabbing my shirt to yank me closer. I bet her panties are soaked from me taking over and I can’t wait to find out if I’m right.

  My mouth laps at her breasts as soon as I see them. My lips switch from one to the other, wanting to have them both at the same time. I squeeze the melons together to my delight. She has the perfect set of tits, just big enough if I squeeze them a bit she has a sexy line of cleavage. My cock’s so fucking hard, if I’m not careful I may dent the hood of the car.

  I make her wither and groan in delight as I suck and nip at her divine chest, before beginning my trail lower. Her hands find my spikey hair, gripping the locks between her fingers to tug. My tongue skirts along her tummy, dipping into her navel. She shudders at the movement, enlisting a primal growl from me. I must have her. Own. Conquer.

  My fingers find the button and zipper of her shorts, plucking and tugging until the obstacle’s free. I can’t move fast enough when it comes to Chevelle. I have the insatiable need clawing through my veins to pound into her pussy until she gives in to me and swears to obey me in every way.

  “That feels so good, Mercenary. You better stop. I’m not some cheap whore you pick up whenever you want. We fuck when I say so.”

  “You better shut that fucking mouth, Chevelle,” I grumble. “I’m fucking you. Now.” At that, my hands close around the waist of her shorts, tugging them over her muscular thighs. She can pretend to fight me, but I know the truth. I can feel her practically vibrating with desire under me. Her scent is all around, utterly intoxicating.