Crossing the Line (Hard Driving)

by Audra North

  On Monday morning, after a restless night without Cori, he walked into the garage to find several cars he didn’t recognize parked out front. His first, insane thought was that she’d driven down here from Norfolk, but the rational part of his brain finally intervened. She would have had to drive through the night, and she certainly wouldn’t have come to the garage first. And certainly not with a bunch of other people.

  Who would have come unannounced like this?

  When Ty walked in, Dad was standing with some guys wearing suits and somber expressions and . . . oh, shit. He recognized one of the men, who had interviewed him a couple of weeks ago about possible cheating at Riggs Racing.

  This wasn’t a good sign.

  “Uh . . . good morning.” He slowly approached the group, raising an eyebrow in question at Dad, who looked completely drained. Already defeated.

  No. This could not be happening.

  One of the suited men stepped forward. “Mr. Riggs. Paul Christensen. We met the other week.”

  Ty took the other man’s hand robotically, responding out of habit as his brain tried to process what was going on. “Yes. Of course. Mr. Christensen. Good to see you again.”

  Christensen cleared his throat. “I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.”

  Ty jerked his head over to look at Dad.

  “They’re launching an investigation, son,” he murmured. “These men will be going through our books and interviewing the crew over the next few weeks.”

  Ty’s mind was reeling. Seriously? Now? He’d thought things were winding down. He’d thought it was almost over. Now what? Back to hiding?

  No. He couldn’t do it.

  Christensen made a sound of displeasure. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry it has come to this. Gilroy has been rather, um, vocal, and given his refusal to back down, we decided it was best to make it official and get it over with. Put this whole thing to rest.”

  He was tired of hiding. He was tired of giving in to fear.

  He opened his mouth to say as much, to tell them to take their sad excuses and shove ’em, but before he could say a word, Dad spoke up.

  “I’ve let these gentlemen know that they have our full cooperation. I’ve given them my word that we’ll help in any way we can.”

  Fuuuck.

  Dad’s warning was clear. And he did look alarmingly frail . . .

  “Mr. Riggs,” Christensen said, his voice annoyingly even, “I know this is a difficult thing to deal with, but we’ve started the process already in hopes of making this whole thing as expedient as possible. The press release is already in the hands of the news outlets, and we’ll do our best to get through it quickly.”

  Ty closed his eyes for a second, trying not to shout with rage.

  Press release.

  That would mean Cori would probably have already seen the news. Queued it up for publication at the agreed-upon time.

  He had to talk to her. He had to talk to someone who understood.

  Now.

  Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room.

  Chapter 12

  Cori was getting nervous.

  This past weekend with Ty had been amazing. She’d felt like it was something truly special, and even though she didn’t want to flatter herself too much, she couldn’t help but think she’d had something to do with how much more relaxed he’d been since that Media Day when she’d met him.

  But then Ty had called her early Monday morning and told her that the investigation was happening after all. He’d given her a rundown of meeting the review team and how Bobby had insisted on continuing the farce of having nothing to hide.

  Even though it had been a difficult conversation, she and Ty had also agreed that she had to write about what was happening, since the investigation was being made official. He’d also given her an exclusive quote during the call, the two of them reluctantly trying to focus on the story she was going to build.

  At least some good had come out of it. She’d had enough advance notice to push out her article at the same time that the press release dropped, and the timing of the piece had helped the hit count go wild. Even more so than on the first piece she’d written on racing.

  Another race, and she might be in the clear.

  But it still pained her to see herself gaining recognition on top of Ty’s suffering.

  Every day, they talked as much as they could. He was trying to stay focused during training for that weekend’s race in Texas, but she could hear the fraying in his voice and prayed the investigation would end as quickly as the investigators seemed to think it would.

  She landed in Texas on Saturday afternoon. She’d missed the qualifying rounds, but would get to the track in time for the Diamond series race, then stay through the Intercomm series race tomorrow evening. She’d wanted to get out earlier, to have some time with Ty, but Alex had bitched about how much extra money it was costing them for her to fly out on Fridays, even with her hit count skyrocketing.

  Fine. She was on her way to getting what she wanted, and she didn’t want to rock the boat now and have Alex force her hand into quitting for any reason. So even though it pained her to lose a night with Ty, she didn’t argue.

  Her flight landed and she texted Ty, who immediately texted back.

  I’m glad you’re here, gorgeous. Come to the pit. Watch the race from here. With me.

  But she couldn’t do that. He knew that, too. The fact that he’d even offered was a testament to how much stress he was under.

  She texted him back, letting him down gently, but he seemed to be expecting her answer, because he replied Then come to my room tonight. I’ll take any of you that I can get.

  Sure enough, when she knocked on his door shortly after the Nationwide race had closed, he was already there waiting for her, yanking her inside and stripping her with a ferocity she’d never seen in him before. He’d kissed her, hard, and bit her neck, and she’d responded like she always did—with equal need. Greater need, in fact.

  Because she in fact needed him. She needed him as something good in a world where everyone seemed against her. She needed him for the way he made her feel. For who he was as a man.

  When she was completely naked, he tossed her onto the bed, then stared down at her with eyes burning with desire, and she couldn’t help but think that a part of him was using her to expend some of his angry energy.

  She was okay with that.

  It made her open her legs wide and welcome him to give her everything. She would take all of him, because it was him—the man she needed—and she would cherish it.

  He was still mostly clothed—he was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, anyway—and she sat up, reaching for his zipper, but he batted her hand away, and instead used his own palm to press against the hard bulge in his jeans.

  It excited her, to see him grabbing at himself in such a lewd way, and she followed his lead, lying back again and snaking her hand down between her legs to gently stroke over the hood of her clit.

  He groaned and grabbed her legs, lifting her up until her opening was pressed against the cloth-covered ridge of his erection, grinding against her body. It felt rough and hard and pleasant and uncomfortable all at the same time, and soon enough, when she could see that she was leaving a damp spot on his jeans, he released one of her legs to unbutton the waistband and pull the zipper down before pushing his jeans and underwear to mid-thigh.

  His cock sprang out, big and hard, and he took hold again of her other leg, supporting her hips up off the bed, and he stroked his shaft over her clit, his sac pushing against her opening at the end of every slide.

  She was so wet now that she was slick with it, and he finally let go to lean over and grab a condom from the nightstand before flipping her to her belly, yanking her hips up and back to the edge of the bed before putting the wide head of his cock at the entrance to her body and teasing her with it, just the tip, in and out, until she was practically crying for all of it. Until she had her
first orgasm, groaning as he finally pushed all the way home just as her inner muscles started to squeeze, and the feel of it made her close her eyes and lose herself to the sensation.

  And then he started to stroke into her in earnest, deep, slow thrusts that had them both moaning and panting for several long minutes, until she felt another climax coming on, and then he gave a shout, pulling her hips back and onto him hard enough that she followed him over the edge.

  * * *

  The pack thundered down the straight and started funneling into the curve. Ty gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to keep his second-place position in the madness. He hated when everyone bunched up like this for so long. They were on lap 342, and it had been pretty much bumper-to-bumper the entire way.

  But he wasn’t going to give up his place. Not while Cori was watching. Having her here was helping ease his mind, and he wanted to show her that he wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Last night had been nothing short of amazing. Incredible sex—everything he wanted, and without a single word between them. He’d had so much pent-up frustration and lust, and she’d taken everything he could give her, and reveled in it.

  She was the only person, it seemed, who wasn’t willing to cave in to the demands of others.

  It made him wild for her.

  The pack came out of the curve, shooting like pinballs down the straight, over and over, round and round, until there were only three laps to go and he could hear the spectators roaring in the stands.

  He was still in second place, right on Randy McFadden’s tail. He knew he could take McFadden. The older man was a great driver, but he’d never been consistently at the top. Experience had made him a solid bet for second, third, eighth place . . . but he made too many of same mistakes over and over.

  Ty was counting on those mistakes right about now.

  He came out of the curve on McFadden’s right side, gunning it. He had to at least pull even with the other racer as they went into the second curve, to see if he could pass him up high. But he couldn’t sustain this speed for too long. The strain it would put on his arm and back muscles to keep the car under control through his hold on the wheel would simply become too painful.

  A low laugh sounded through the earpiece in his helmet, then his crew chief’s voice said, “You’re the best, Ty.”

  McFadden had a tendency to panic when he was being passed on a curve. Nothing too dangerous—he’d been racing too long to go completely off the rails. But he usually let the car drive loose, just enough to slow down a bit . . . and get passed.

  Sure enough—

  Ty pulled forward in the curve, tight as he started to ease into the straightaway and . . . yes! He shimmied the car into first position, leading McFadden as they headed into lap 499. Adrenaline surged through him and he steadied the wheel, whipping around the final two laps like a man possessed. By the time he hit the last straight, he was a full car length ahead of McFadden, and he hollered a victory cry in the car as he zoomed over the finish line, the shouts of the crowd echoing in his ears.

  At least no one could question his win today. Because of the investigation underway, two more race officials had been present at the pre-quals and pre-race checks of the Riggs Racing cars. During the inspections, everything had been cross-checked multiple times and photo documented.

  All their cars passed, of course. But everyone had worried, just the same. Extra scrutiny meant that mistakes might be misconstrued as attempts at cheating, and the entire team had taken pains to make sure things were perfect.

  It was exhausting.

  Not to mention that the committee assigned to looking into the allegations hadn’t given them any updates on what they’d seen so far. Ty knew they’d combed through the financials already, and of course they hadn’t found anything, but they would start interviewing different people next week, and the stress of it had taken its toll on Dad.

  That was why Ty had insisted his father stay out of the pit for this weekend’s race. Mom had agreed, and after being faced with the combined power of his wife and son pressuring him to take it easy, Bobby had finally conceded. He was watching this one from up in the box and had promised not to attend the post-race conference.

  Good. Let me fight this fight for you. For once. He hadn’t said that to Dad, but it had made him feel better to think it.

  A victory lap later, Ty was once again in the pressroom, eyes seeking out Cori . . .

  There. In the second row. Smiling at him, the corners of that beautiful mouth turned upward. The same mouth he’d kissed . . . that had been on his body just last night . . .

  He quickly stepped behind the podium to hide his growing erection and somehow managed to make it through the press conference without diving into the crowd and snatching up Cori to carry her away. He didn’t even care about the questions concerning the investigation. As long as she was there, he had faith that there was someone who understood him. Someone he could trust.

  And man, she was hot.

  She was wearing a damn prissy-sexy outfit as usual. She should have looked ridiculous, tottering around in that getup while all the other reporters were in casual stuff, but somehow it worked for her. And it definitely worked for him. He wondered if she had on garters and stockings and nothing else under her skirt again . . .

  “Thank you all for your questions. We’re looking forward to Vegas in a couple of weeks.” Frank was speaking into the mic, wrapping up the session before he guided Ty offstage and back into a private conference room.

  “You okay?” Frank patted Ty’s shoulder.

  Ty nodded. “Would you do me a favor? You know that woman out there? Second row?”

  Frank nodded. “Cori Bellowes.”

  Ty shouldn’t have been surprised that Frank knew who she was. It was his job to know the press, after all. But it still felt strange. He had to remind himself not to shout, She’s mine!

  “Would you please ask her to come back here?”

  Frank gave him a heavy look, but then nodded and headed back out the door. A few minutes later, he returned with Cori in tow.

  “Ty!” For a moment, eager happiness flashed across her face, but it quickly fell away as she assumed her usual professional demeanor. Frank was still in the room, and no doubt she was trying to keep things silent.

  “Frank, would you please give us a minute?” Ty glanced over at the other man, but Frank was already slipping out the door, apparently on to what was happening between the two of them.

  Ty supposed it was a good thing, after all, that his publicist didn’t miss a beat.

  As soon as the door shut, Cori came to him, arms out. But he gently wrapped his hands around her wrists, stopping her.

  “Gorgeous, I’m covered in oil and road grime and . . .” He wrinkled his nose. “I’m trying not to contemplate my own stink right now. I don’t want to mess up—”

  But she broke free of his grip and came forward, sliding her arms around his neck and kissing him, like she hadn’t seen him in weeks instead of hours.

  “—your clothes,” he finished, when they’d finally broken apart.

  She laughed.

  “You’re an amazing woman.” He squeezed her tightly, trying to convey just how much he appreciated that she wanted him more than she wanted clean clothes. It might seem like a small thing, but it meant a lot. But instead of seeming happy, she sobered, taking his hands and stepping away from him. “Ty. God. You’re amazing, too. But we can’t do this here. Someone will see.”

  “I don’t care.” He bent to kiss her again, but a knock sounded on the door. That would be Frank, probably warning him about something.

  Why did this seem to keep happening to them?

  “Hey. Can you wait for just a bit? I’m sorry, but if Frank is knocking—”

  The door swung open and she jumped away from him. The disappointment he felt at the loss of her touch was intense.

  “Ty, Wendell just called. They’re all ready to roll out. Just waiting on us to get t
o the plane so we can head back to Charlotte.”

  The plane? Leaving? But he’d barely seen Cori. Unless . . .

  He turned to her. “When were you planning to fly back to Norfolk?”

  She frowned, looking confused. “My flight is in a couple of hours. I’ve actually got to get to the airport soon.”

  He grabbed her hand, not caring anymore whether Frank saw them. Frank saw a lot, anyway. “Come back on the jet with us.”

  Her jaw dropped. “On your jet? I can’t do that. It’s too suspicious and—” She stopped and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Aren’t you going to Charlotte? I live near Norfolk. It’s a five-hour drive and I have to be in the office tomorrow morning.”

  He pulled her forward, feeling pride well up when she came—just one step closer, but it was something. “I didn’t mean that you’d have to drive the rest of the way. We’ll have Wendell drop everyone in Charlotte and then you and I can go on to Norfolk. It’ll be a forty-five minute flight. You’ll even get home before you were originally going to. There will be plenty of people on the plane. It won’t be a big deal even if people see us. Reporters travel with us sometimes, even if it doesn’t happen a lot.”

  She hesitated for a moment, long enough for him to pull her even closer and whisper, “I’m not ready for this weekend to be over yet. That kiss just now wasn’t a proper good-bye.”

  She blushed.

  And that’s when he knew he had her.

  Chapter 13

  Cori hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. The Riggs Racing jet was luxurious and relaxed. Big seats set out almost like they would be in a living room, with footrests and everything. The entire team laughed and joked and teased one another for the short flight from DFW to Charlotte, and Cori sat next to Ty, close enough to touch, even though they didn’t so much as hold hands while everyone else was watching.

  Ty had told the guys that he had promised her an interview, but they’d run out of time in Texas, so he was making it up to her. From the looks on the others’ faces, she didn’t think they were buying his excuse, but no one said anything.