by Lacey Black
He’s sleeping, and yet somehow, she’s able to hold him and her cell phone. She’s snapping pictures of the guys as they laugh and work. I’ve even seen her point her digital one my way a handful of times. Not just today, but in the last week too. I’ve caught her snapping photos when she thinks I’m not paying attention. Only, I’m always paying attention to Lena, even if I’m not focusing on her.
Once everything is in place, I turn to the woman who’s quickly becoming very important to me once more and give her a smile. I grab the carrier and head her way so we can get Oliver settled into his seat before the SUV gets here.
“Ready?” I ask, helping to fasten his seat harness. Oliver lets out an unhappy little holler, and before I can even try to sooth his irritation, Lena pulls a pacifier out of her bag. He only uses it when he’s really tired or trying to return to sleep after being woken up.
“All set,” she confirms, her full, pink lips grinning my way.
I can’t stop staring at them.
Or wanting to kiss them.
Something starts to happen in my pants because the moment I picture kissing her, I start to imagine taking it further. My hands on her body, and hers on mine. I see her lying on a bed—my bed, actually. It’s pretty fucking glorious, if you ask me, and probably the last thing I should be picturing right now, yet here I am, sporting a semi amongst my team and my son. Not my finest moment.
We’re fairly quiet as we get into the SUV to head back to the hotel. I know I need to bring up the whole Lindsay thing and see what happened, but I’d rather not do it now with a small audience. So I keep my mouth shut and watch her instead. She’s taking a few photos from the vehicle of the landscape, the softest smile on her lips. She always has this serene and relaxed look on her face whenever she’s holding her camera, including the one on her cell phone.
We slip into the back of the hotel, away from the main lobby. There’s an elevator down the hall, and before too long, it’s depositing us on our floor. Silently, I let us into our shared room, grateful for the quiet. The problem is the moment I see the bed, I want to do way more than enjoy the quiet. All I want to do is tear up the sheets and listen to Lena moan. I’m already getting hard again, a combination of recalling what she sounded like when I slid inside her and wondering if she still makes those same throaty little moans of pleasure.
I set Oliver’s carrier on the couch, careful to conceal what’s going on in my groin area. I’m starting to throb, too much time spent in a single hotel room with the woman of my dreams with nothing but my imagination to conjure up every dirty fantasy I’ve ever had starring the one and only, Lena Stanley.
“I can take care of changing him,” she says behind me. “I know you’re probably anxious for a shower.”
She has no idea…
“Uhh, thanks. Yeah, I think I’ll jump in there quick. We don’t have too much time before we need to get downstairs.”
“I’ll start to pack up what’s left after he’s had dinner.”
I’m already heading over to my bag, to the change of clothes I left out for after the race. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it when I’m done. Most of it’s mine or Oliver’s shit anyway,” I add, grabbing my stuff and heading for the shower.
I need some alone time. Time away from her scent. Time away from her smile. Time away from the way she cares for my son. It’s causing my brain to imagine all sorts of scenarios where she stays at the end of her time here.
I divert my own attention from the sexy woman in my hotel room by thinking about the race, dissecting everything from the start to the finish. Honestly, I’ve been doing a lot of it since I got out of the car. I’ll continue to do it tonight, even after I’ve gone to bed. That’s part of the reason I had occasionally taken advantage of a release afterward. The adrenaline, the excitement, the frustration all coursing through me, begging to be let out.
Only now, there’s no release.
Except the one I’ll find with my hand.
I haven’t sought out a woman since Renee.
Why? I guess it just felt wrong. Not because we did anything wrong, but my head just wasn’t in the right place. She was always just a call away, but that road went both ways. There were a few times mixed in when she called me too. I was convenient, a friend, and I didn’t mind being that for her, because we both knew there’d be nothing more. Right or wrong, we made our choices, and I’ll never regret them, especially when Oliver was the result. But even if she had lived, if the stroke hadn’t taken her life way too young, there’d have been no future for us. We weren’t destined to spend the rest of our lives together in any other way than co-parenting.
The water is as hot as I can stand, which is a step below scalding. I welcome the burn as it beats against my skin. I press my forearms against the shower wall, the water pelting me on the back. The tension starts to ease, but not completely. Not in my cock. It’s still hard and pulsing, anxious for release. I should turn the water to cold, but I don’t. I can’t.
Instead, I reach down and take my rigid cock in my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. A shudder sweeps through my blood as a low groan slides effortlessly from my lips. Closing my eyes, I let my imagination run wild as I slowly start to stroke myself. I can picture so vividly, Lena standing directly in front of me, those plump fuck-me lips painted red, the color of sin. Her green eyes gaze up at me, half-lidded and unfocused. It reminds me of how she looked lying in bed, post-orgasm.
She’s wearing a T-shirt of mine and nothing else. Personally, I’d take her that way over any piece of lingerie on the market. There’s nothing sexier than a confident, beautiful woman wearing her man’s shirt. Fuck, it looks amazing hanging seductively off one shoulder and hitting just about mid-thigh.
My hand strokes a little faster as she whispers, “I can’t wait to taste you.”
With her eyes locked on mine, she drops to her knees directly in front of me and unzips my pants. She tugs them down, my cock heavy and hard and so fucking grateful to be freed from its denim confines.
Lena licks her lips as her hand wraps around the base of my dick, beads of precum sliding down the tip. Her pink tongue slips out and glides along the head, shockwaves of pure pleasure sweeping through my body.
“Fuck,” I reply, my hand continuing to stroke faster and harder as my fantasy plays out behind my closed eyelids.
She moves, my cock sliding into her warm, wet mouth, taking me as deep as she can, her eyes still locked on mine. The trust, the lust, the excitement shines in those emerald eyes as she bobs her head, increasing the suction around my dick.
I feel the familiar tingle at the base of my spine, and I know the end is near. So I focus on the fantasy, on the way her mouth brings me nothing but pleasure, those familiar eyes gazing up at me, watching as I start to come. The reality isn’t nearly as good as what I’m imagining, so I keep my eyes screwed closed tight and pretend I’m not fucking my hand. I picture her.
I want Lena.
But this is going to have to do, at least for now.
As the weight of my release washes over me, I lean against the wall, gasping for air. If only she knew what just happened in here. I should be ashamed, but I’m not. I’ll never be ashamed of wanting her, seeing her in my dreams, wishing there was more to our story.
I rewash my body and let the hot water soak into my bones for a few more minutes, but I know I don’t have much time. Turning off the water, I get out of the shower feeling a little lighter than before, the weight of the day no longer heavy on my shoulders. Funny what a good hand job in the shower can do for you.
I throw on my clothes, a team polo shirt and a pair of nice jeans. I run a comb through my hair and use my deodorant. Once I’ve completed the basics, I toss all my stuff into my shaving kit and exit the room. I throw my bag into my luggage and scan the room, making sure I have everything packed up, when the sweetest sound filters into the sleeping area.
“You are the most handsome little man I’ve ever met,” Lena coos, inst
antly making me smile.
I’m moving toward the living space as I reply, “Well, he does look just like his dad.”
They’re lying on the floor, a blanket spread out beneath them. Oliver is lying in front of where she crouches on her knees, his wide eyes and a grin all for her. She looks my way, a happy little smile on her beautiful face. “There’s a little resemblance,” she teases before turning her attention back to my son. She leans down and blows a raspberry kiss on his bare belly, the result an excited squeal and waving of his arms and legs.
“Yep, he’s definitely my son. I always get excited when a pretty girl blows on my belly too.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. My heart drops to my feet as dread sweeps through me. I didn’t exactly mean it the way it came out, but I already know how she’s taking it. I made myself sound like a player, a manwhore who lets any and all women give him a blowjob, but the truth is, I was only thinking of one woman when I made that statement.
The one who’s now looking my way.
She clears her throat. “Yes, well, I do recall how excited you’d get when I got anywhere near your belly.”
Her response surprises me. She’s not mad or reminded of my past, even though there isn’t much of a past there. Have I been a saint? Hell no, but I haven’t been careless either. Well, not besides Renee. Truth be told, I tried dating. Case in point: Lindsay. But every time I tried, I failed, and I’m pretty sure I know why.
She’s sitting in front of me.
Now it’s my turn to clear my throat. “Yeah, well, can you blame a guy? You’ve always been the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever known.”
Her eyes dilate, and she looks away to cover her blush. Lena smiles down at Oliver and absently starts to pick up her mess. Since he seems content, she leaves him there on the floor and throws the diaper in the trashcan before checking to make sure all of his stuff is repacked in the diaper bag. I just stand there and watch, taking in her movement and committing them to memory.
I recall how easily she fits in with everything. My job. My team. My life. I want her to stay, knew it before I even sent that text. Now that she’s here, I’m just not sure how I’m going to be able to let her go again. I’ve never been able to talk to anyone as easily as I can Lena. Hell, some of the girls I’ve dated, I was barely even able to talk to at all.
Like Lindsay.
Knowing I need to have the conversation, I return to my bed to finish packing. A few seconds later, she joins me, double-checking the dresser drawers we used during our short stay and even checking the closet. Her bag is packed, closed and ready to go by the door. Mine is ready to join hers.
As I’m zipping it, I glance over to where she busies herself checking the bathroom. I already know there’s nothing left in there. “Can I talk to you about something?” I ask the moment she steps out.
Lena is directly in front of me, but not close enough to touch. Fuck, do I really want to touch her.
“Tyson mentioned something to me after the race. He said you were approached by a woman.”
I watch as something flashes across her features, but she quickly schools it. Lena gives me a tight smile and shrugs. “Just a fan of yours, I think.”
She tries to walk away, but I reach out my hand and stop her. The skin on skin contact is like a jolt of lightning. When her eyes meet mine again, I continue, “Her name is Lindsay Monahan. We dated for about three weeks.”
I can feel her go rigid beneath my touch. “You don’t have to tell me this,” she says quickly, pulling against my hand. I let her go, but follow as she hightails it to the kitchenette area to finish packing up Oliver’s formula and water.
“I think I do,” I say as I reach her side. “I’m not sure what she said to you, but I’m certain it probably wasn’t nice.” Her guarded eyes meet mine once again, and I hate that look on her face. Like she’s protecting herself. From me. From the pain I might inflict.
I step forward, into her personal space. Her scent wraps around me, beckoning me like a siren’s call. My hand sweeps through her loose hair, the softness of those locks sliding around my fingers. “I met her at the track a few times before I asked her to have dinner with me. It was enjoyable, since she was a huge fan of the sport. We exchanged numbers and kept in touch over the next few days. We were able to meet up a second time for dinner, but that’s when I knew something was off. She was…anxious to spend more time with me. Like all of my time. She started texting and calling nonstop, and when I didn’t reply fast enough, went as far as to contact the CD Enterprises office. I met up with her a third time to break it off with her, even though it was pretty new and casual, and let’s just say, she wasn’t happy with me.”
Her eyebrows pull together in concern. “What happened?”
“She egged my truck.”
“What?” she gasps, her mouth falling open.
“Well, we could never prove it was her, but we’re all certain. She started driving past my house, and I’m not sure how she found out where I lived. I never told her. She kept calling at all hours of the night from a blocked number and hanging up. Hell, she even went as far as to email corporate, telling them she was my wife.”
“Shut. Up.”
I can’t help but laugh at her outrage on my behalf. “Wish I were joking. I had to get a restraining order against her. It was a mess.”
“Wow, I’m sorry that happened to you,” she whispers, her eyes full of empathy and support.
Stepping closer yet, our bodies are mere inches away from each other. I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, hear the quick inhale of her breath. “They couldn’t ban her from attending races because they’re public events, but she’s supposed to keep her distance. She still shows up every now and again and tries to cause problems, but for the most part, I’ve barely seen her.” My hand moves to her cheek. “What did she say to you?”
“That you’d dump me in a month and move on to the next woman waiting in line.” Her eyes hold mine, and I can see the hint of insecurity flash through those orbs.
My hand cups her cheek, my finger gently stroking the soft skin. “There is no line, Lean. There wasn’t when I went on those few dinner dates with her. There hasn’t ever been a line, actually, and if there was, I paid it no attention. I only have eyes for one woman.”
She swallows hard, closes her eyes, and leans into my touch. I move forward even more, aligning our fronts so they’re touching. My left hand snakes around her back, resting just above the waistband of her pants. I can feel the heat of her skin seeping through the material, and suddenly I’m feeling a little drunk.
Drunk on her.
“I’m sorry she’s causing you so much grief,” she whispers, her breath a featherlight kiss against my lips.
“I’m sorry she bothered you. I’d never willingly put you in the line of fire, but I feel like that’s all I’ve done since you arrived.”
Lena shrugs. “It’s okay. I’m here because I want to be.”
I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. All I want to do is kiss her. Years’ worth of pent-up frustration and desire has me ready to say fuck it and kiss her. She’s so fucking close. All I’d have to do is lean in just ever so slightly and claim her lips with my own. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lena how close we are. She grips my forearm, her nails digging into my flesh. She licks her lips, her eyelids fluttering closed, and that’s when I know.
She wants this kiss.
Long seconds pass as I slowly move my lips toward hers. This is the moment I’ve been waiting three agonizingly long years for. My hand moves to her side and my fingers clutch her hip for stability. We’re so close, our lips aligned perfectly. All I have to do is move a fraction of an inch and claim her with a kiss, but Oliver wails from the seating area, breaking the spell.
The moment shatters like glass on a tile floor.
I don’t get my kiss.
Chapter Nine
Lena
It’s a beautiful Wednesday evening in Los Angeles
. Well, as beautiful as it can be, considering the sun is out, but not really out. We’ve been cooped up for a few days at the house, Mack having long days at the shop and training track. By the time he gets home, he spends as much time with his son as possible before doing it all over again the next day.
Now, Oliver and I are a few blocks away at a small neighborhood playground, enjoying the gorgeous summer evening. He’s in the stroller, having fallen sleep not too long after we left. I use the opportunity to grab a few photos of him stretched out, the sun setting in the background behind a row of evergreens.
I take the long way home, yet careful to keep to the neighborhood I’m becoming familiar with. People are outside, enjoying the evening, and a handful even wave. Los Angeles and its suburbs are nothing like Brenton, where you know everyone in town. Even though this isn’t my preferred place to live, it’s not so bad for a visit.
We worm our way back toward the house. I stop and take a few pictures along the way, a bird bathing in a birdbath in a front yard, gorgeous blooms in different hues of pink and yellow, and even a little girl riding her bike down the sidewalk. We pass an older couple as they stroll along the walkway, their hands joined together. They offer me a warm hello as they pass, and I can’t help but stop and snap a photograph of them from behind, their linked fingers the focal point of the image.
We’ve been gone for more than an hour, and I know the time is coming for Oliver to wake up. He’ll want a diaper change, food, and a bath, most likely in that order. Well, the bath part he can do without, but the rest, he’ll definitely be demanding. As we approach the house, a familiar sense of longing sweeps through me. This place, this house, and the people who live here are quickly becoming a vital part of my existence. That thought is almost overpowering, a swirl of excitement and sadness mixing together in my chest.
I head up the drive, surprised to see Mack’s truck in front of the massive garage out back, the doors open. Even though I had left a note on the counter, I didn’t expect him to be home so soon, not after the later evenings he pulled the last two nights. Fontana is this Sunday, and I know he wants to be ready. He wants to win.