by Lindsay Becs
“Fiiiine,” I groan. “One night.”
He bounces excitedly on the balls of his feet, and his face lights up. I can’t help but smile back at him. He’s acting like a kid on Christmas. “Aren’t you too old to go clubbing?” I can’t help but ask.
“Ouch!” he says with a hand on his heart. “I’m twenty-eight, not eighty-two. Aren’t you too young?” he volleys back.
“You asked me to go, dude. Let’s not get this turned around.”
We drive back to our hotel and agree to meet up in a couple hours to grab some dinner before we hit the club. “I’ll see you here in two hours,” he says, holding up two fingers.
“Alright, I got it,” I retort, annoyed that he thinks I’ll bail.
“Good!” he says and slaps my butt. “Oh shit! I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry, Poppy.” He holds up his hand like it’s on fire now, and I can’t help but laugh.
“It’s all good, dude. You guys are always smacking each other’s asses. I’m sure it’s just habit.”
The offended hand goes through his hair, and he still looks weirded out that he just touched my butt. “See ya in a few,” I say and smack his ass this time, trying to make him see it’s not a big deal.
“Yeah,” he replies with a hesitant smile. “See you then.”
I walk in the direction of my room, feeling confused. What the hell was all that? Why did he get so weird over a mistaken, playful butt smack? I try to push the weirdness out of my mind as I enter my room.
This day has already taken a turn, so I might as well keep bringing the surprises. I shower and then decide to make myself up in a way that I don’t very often. I hate being compared to my mom, not that she isn’t beautiful and awesome at what she does. I just hate everyone thinking I’m nothing more than model pretty. My mom has left her mark everywhere in the model world and has done some amazing things, but that’s not me.
Tonight though, I’m putting all that aside and I’m going to give these boys something pretty to look at. Even if I do usually run from it.
4
Zander
Oh shit… I touched Poppy’s ass.
Benton is going to kill me.
But then again, she went and smacked mine right back. Now, I don’t even know what to think. It was like this strange current changed between us the second I touched her like that.
I take a cold shower to try to tame the twitching in my cock that she aroused in me in the hotel lobby. I mean, fuuuuck… it wasn’t even a sexual thing, yet I feel a primal need to touch her again. And more.
This cannot happen! She is a decade younger than me. She is off limits.
On the other hand, she’s my friend. We laugh and have fun together, and I tell her things I haven’t told anyone else before. It’s a genuine friendship that I’ve come to cherish.
I care about her, but it’s not like that. Is it? Shaking my head, I finish getting ready before I meet her in the lobby.
Then I see her.
My eyes about bug out of their sockets when I see her step out of the elevator. I’m in so much trouble tonight…
She has her light brown hair down and curled in waves around her bare shoulders. She’s changed her nail polish to red to match her red lips, which are accented by her black-lined eyes. All of it makes her blue eyes sparkle and pop. The black dress she’s wearing is a halter-style that hugs all of her curves, ending just under her ass. My eyes trail down her toned, long legs. On her feet are heeled strappy shoes that lace up and around her calves, looking sexy as hell.
“Damn, you look hot.” I say the words without thinking, making her laugh.
“Thanks. You look nice too. It’s different from the usual racing leathers you wear.”
I decided to go with a more fitted pair of dark jeans and I bought a new V-neck shirt that doesn’t have a race logo on it for once.
We choose to walk around the streets of the city here in the beautiful country of Spain. I’ve been here a few times before, so I take the lead to show her what the city has to offer before we meet up with everyone else.
We eat at a little place around the corner, enjoying each other’s company. Then we make our way to the club, listening to people play various instruments on corners and watching a group of dancers shake their hips in ways that should be illegal. This place is like something out of a movie, and I love it every time I’m here. From the look on Poppy’s face, she does too.
Conversation is easy throughout the evening, even though I’m nervous things will turn awkward after what happened earlier and this being a different setting than we’re used to.
When we arrive at the club, I check my phone to see that most of the guys decided to head to a different place. I asked Poppy if she wanted to find them, but she chose to stay put and that was fine with me.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask, watching her look at everything in wonder. She nods her head with a smile to answer. “You sit; I’ll be back.” I nod toward a high-top table outside, where the club goers are dancing just as much as they are inside. “I’ll be right back.”
Returning with our drinks, it’s hard to take my eyes off of her as she watches all the dancing going on around us. The music changes from fast to slow to seductive and back again. She said she wasn’t a dancer or club goer, but I could see the excitement building in her.
Neither of us speak for a while, just watching the people around us and enjoying the magnetic air. Before long, her body starts to sway with the music, and she can’t hold back any longer.
I watch as Poppy stands and makes her way to the middle of the people dancing. Closing her eyes, I could see the music take over her, surrendering to the beats and rhythms, her hips swaying, hands above her head and playing with her hair. She looks so fucking sexy and free.
After watching her for a few minutes, I couldn’t wait to dance with and touch her any more. My hands connect with her swaying hips as my chest meets her back. She immediately relaxes into me, and my hands glide down her hips and thighs and back up. Her hands snake behind her at the nape of my neck and go into my hair. My lips instantly find the spot between her neck and shoulder, tasting the salty layer of sweat that’s there.
We continue to dance like that, my front to her back, as the music plays on. I’m sure she can feel my growing erection from behind, but she never pushes me away. When the music slows, we stay glued to one another as our movements slow too.
I turn her body so I can look at her. Her eyes are heavy with lust, and her face is flushed. I pull her by the back of her neck until our lips are pressed together. Humming at the thrill of all I’m feeling, I don’t want it to end, and damned be the consequences. She kisses me back, and we continue to kiss as our bodies keep moving together in the mix of dancers around us.
I nip and bite at her full bottom lip and then soothe it with my tongue. She tastes like rum and mint from the mojito she had earlier. Our lips and tongues move in sync together with the music, doing their own dance.
Our legs are entangled, my knee between her legs and her thighs gripping mine as she rubs against me. We grind and roll our hips against each other. It’s foreplay out in the open for all to see, and neither of us cares who’s watching.
I know I need to stop kissing her. I need to stop touching her and feeling her. I need to stop it all, but I don’t want to.
Pulling all my restraint together, I press my lips below her ear. “Are you ready to head back to the hotel now?” I whisper.
She physically shivers from my breath on her neck and nods in response. Not able to resist, I kiss the sensitive spot behind her ear once more before stepping back. Lacing our fingers together, we begin our walk back to the hotel.
By the time we make it the five blocks back, my mind has caught up to what had transpired through the night. I went too far and need to make sure she knows we can’t cross the line again. I don’t want to use her for a meaningless fuck and ruin our friendship and all we’ve built in the past months. Yet, I’d basically
fucked her with our clothes on in front of half of Spain outside just ten minutes ago. I feel guilty for leading her on, but this is where we stop.
Squeezing her hand, I place a soft kiss on her cheek as we stand outside her door. “Goodnight, Soda Pop.” I smile before turning to head to my own room.
“Night,” I hear her say faintly as I walk away.
Once inside, I fall face first onto my bed. I didn’t chance a look behind me when I left Poppy at her door. I didn’t want to know what she looked like. Was she hurt, angry, happy? None of those seemed like anything I wanted to see on her face after the perfect night we had.
I’m an idiot for letting things go the way they did tonight. I can’t let that happen again.
Today was a race day, and I lost.
I fucking lost because I didn’t get a chance to talk to Poppy after our night out, and it was messing with my head.
I was a wuss and didn’t want to face her the day after, so I lied and told her I didn’t feel well and cancelled our training. Then today, I totally choked on the track. I haven’t seen her all day, and my mind hasn’t stopped thinking about what it felt like to kiss her and touch her in ways I shouldn’t.
I shouldn’t, right? Because this is bad… very, very bad.
I think.
Now, I’ve locked myself in my room and plan on getting drunk tonight in hopes that it’ll help me stop thinking about what I really want to be doing.
Man, I’m such a pussy.
I step onto the plane the next afternoon with my sunglasses on, shielding my eyes from the horrific sun, which is feeding into my pounding head. I drank everything that was in the minibar in my room last night. And guess what? When you’re almost thirty, the next day is way different than when you’re twenty-one.
“Well, don’t you look like a bag of sunshine,” Poppy jokes when she walks onto the plane.
I can only muster up a grunt in response because anything else seems too loud.
“Don’t beat yourself up, dude. You win some, you lose some.” She’s trying to be encouraging, but she has no idea what all of this is really about: her.
We take off and I manage to fall asleep for a while, thank goodness, and when I wake up, I feel much better. I find a bottle of water and down it all in several gulps. My eyes scan to find Poppy, and when I do, it grates me that she’s laughing and sitting next to Austin, my teammate, in a different row.
“Poppy!” I yell up to her to get her attention. She turns around to face me, and I motion for her to come back to her usual seat across from me. She holds up her finger for me to wait, and I’m put off by it. What the hell?
Ten minutes go by, and when she still hasn’t moved, I yell up at her again. This time, I throw my arms out in an “are you coming?” gesture. Rolling her eyes at me, she fucking kisses Austin on the cheek before making her way back.
“The fuck is up with you and Austin?” I growl even though I have no business.
“The fuck it’s your business,” she throws back and sits cross-armed across from me.
She sees my being a dick and raises me one bitch. Touché.
“Sorry. I’m just surprised.” I try to act cool and brush off the fact that I’m simmering and ready to boil over at the thought of her giving him any extra attention.
“Why? He’s a nice guy. We’re just friends. No big deal.” She shrugs.
“We’re just friends too, but you did more than kiss me on the cheek the other night,” I say and then close my eyes, mad at myself for actually verbalizing it.
“You know what, Zander? Have your pity party for one by yourself. I’m going to go up and celebrate Austin’s good run with him. When you’re done being a dick, come find me and we can have an adult conversation,” she says, standing to head back to where Austin sits.
I grab her hand to stop her, and she turns to look at me, her blue eyes searing into mine. “I’m sorry,” I apologize for the second time.
“Accepted. Now, let me go.” I shake my head no, and she lifts a questioning brow.
Tugging her arm, I pull until she’s in my lap. “What is wrong with you?!” she seethes, scurrying to get off and sit in the empty seat next to me instead.
Letting out a groan, I lean forward with my head in my hands. “I don’t know!”
“Well, I don’t either, but you need to figure it out.”
“Soda Pop…”
“No.” She holds up a hand. “You can’t call me a child’s nickname anymore after the way you kissed me the other night. The way you danced and touched me.” She shakes her head like she’s trying to get rid of the memories. “Just… no.”
“That’s fair,” I rasp.
She quiet for a minute, and I don’t know what else to say. There’s so much I want to but not much that I think I should.
“Is that really all you’re going to say?”
I sit back and close my eyes then. “I don’t think I should say what I really want to,” I admit. Turning my head, I chance it and open my eyes to look at her.
I see her chest rise and fall in a stuttered breath. “I want to know,” she whispers.
Gritting my jaw, I battle internally with what I should tell her and how much truth I should admit. When I look up to her face, I see her lick her lip, and it snaps my resolve.
Leaning forward, I cup her cheeks in my hands and land my mouth on hers. I kiss her how I’ve wanted to since I walked her to her door the other night. I kiss her passionately and deeply. Caressing her mouth with my tongue, getting to know it better than I did before.
Every little moan she lets out, every stroke of her tongue on mine, everything she does, makes my dick twitch and harden more for her.
Pulling back, I slow our kiss until we stop, giving her one last peck before I pull back completely. “I didn’t know how to put that into words,” I tell her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I like the way you talk,” she says as a laugh bubbles out of her. I join her laughter until we’re belly laughing and rubbing tears from our eyes.
“Fuck, Poppy, I don’t know what I’m doing with you. I know I shouldn’t be attracted to you.”
“Why?” she asks, sounding offended. “Because of my age? My family? What?”
“Yes. All of it,” I tell her truthfully. “And I’m a mess. You don’t even know the half of the baggage I come with.”
“Then let’s not put a label on it and just… be.”
“Do you really think this”—I motion between the two of us— “can really be that simple?”
“It can if we keep it that way.”
“Why does it feel like you’re the older one here right now?”
“I’m just pretty awesome, I guess,” she says with a smirk.
Leaning into her, I press my lips to her neck and blow raspberries there until she’s giggling like crazy. “You are awesome, Poppy. Don’t let me or anyone else ever make you feel less than.”
“I won’t as long as you promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t ever lie to me to save my feelings or feed me a bunch of bullshit. Be honest with me, no matter what.”
I smile at her and tug her forward, kissing the top of her head. “I can do that.”
5
Poppy
We’re in Germany, and I think it’s my favorite track so far that I’ve gotten to try out. If there is one thing I love most about the IMR, it’s that each race track is different with crazy curves and turns and straights. No two are the same.
Tonight, Zander is on his bike riding with me. He doesn’t do this very often when he’s training so that he can watch me, but tonight he surprised me.
Laughing as I pass him on a corner, I’m sure he’ll overtake me on the next, but it feels good to pass up the champion every now and then. He doesn’t go easy on me either.
We finish our lap and stop next to one another. I pull my helmet off, my chest rising and falling quickly as I breathe heavy from the adrenaline ru
nning through me. It’s always fun and exciting riding on a track, but racing with someone is so much better than doing it by myself.
“I can’t believe you got me on corner eight!” He laughs, pulling off his gloves.
“Felt good too,” I say smugly. I didn’t keep the lead for long, as I knew I wouldn’t, but it was fun while it lasted.
“Let’s hope I do better in a couple days, or I might get fired,” he jokes. “Although I didn’t mind watching you from behind for a few minutes,” he wryly smirks.
I throw my glove at him. “Come on. I’m hungry. I need you to feed me.” He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “And no, I’m not feasting on your dick or whatever other nasty thing you were going to say.”
He barks out a deep, throaty laugh. “I was going to say I know a great place not far from here with the best schnitzel and beer. But are you craving sausage?”
I feel my face flame, embarrassed with where this conversation turned. “Nope. I’m good,” I reply quickly and ride off to park my bike in the bay.
Thankfully, Zander let the whole sausage thing go, and we stuffed ourselves with some of the best German food I’ve ever tasted. Patting my stomach, I lean back in my chair. “That was so good.”
He stares at me for a minute and then begins to laugh around a mouthful of food. Crossing my arms in front of me, I watch him until he’s done. Taking a drink of his beer, he finally sits back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Care to share with the rest of the class what is so funny?” I ask him.
He takes another drink, watching me over the rim of his glass. “You have food on the side of your neck,” he tells me as he tilts his head to the side and points to a spot on his neck. “I was debating whether to tell you or see how long it lasted.”
Grabbing my napkin, I wipe my neck and throw it at him when I’m done. He starts to laugh again, catching the flying napkin before it hits him in the face. “Asshole,” I grumble.