Fast Girls Are True (Panty Droppers)

by LeMar, Tigra-Luna

  Back Cover

  Fast Girls are True

  A Novella by Tigra-Luna LeMar

  Jonica "Jon" Samuels is a woman that knows what she wants in life. The problem is, it seems the world is conspiring against her. She wants to become the first female motorcycle racer to qualify and win the Shinobi Grand Prix. No business will sponsor her and she cannot run her cycle without a sponsor--she's barely making ends meet as is. When Derrick Bridger offers to sponsor her, she feels like the luckiest woman alive--that is until the sexy businessman begins to seep beneath her skin.

  Fast Girls are True

  Book One in

  The Panty Droppers Series

  Tigra-Luna LeMar

  MuseitHOT, division of

  MuseItUp Publishing

  www.museituppublishing.com

  ADULT CONTENT: This story contain sexual content, graphic language

  Chapter One

  The sun mercilessly glared over the race-track. He prayed they dragged him from his air conditioned home, on his day off, for a reason. He took these days quite serious since they were few and far between. He usually put his cell phone on vibrate, turned off his computer, hid everything to do with his business, and relaxed. He didn’t even put pants on during his days off. In his line of business he couldn’t afford the luxuries of much time off from the office. All he wanted to do was lay back in his den, with the A/C howling, watch a few old Bruce Lee movies and drink a beer. He was a simple man that enjoyed simple pleasures.

  He watched the motorcycle speed around the track from behind designer shades. Derrick Bridger received the call to scope out a new racing prodigy and see if he would like to sponsor him. He took his attention off the rider for a quick moment and glanced at the face of his watch. The seconds ticked by silently, but to his shock, the time hadn’t gone as long as he thought it would. He tapped the watched and lifted it to his ear to test it, ensuring it was working right before he watched as the rider took the fourth corner smoothly—perfectly. The rider was moving faster than he had seen in a very, very long time. The motorcycle dipped to the opposite side racing around the next corner before straightening and zooming over the finish line. Derrick quickly looked down at his watch and squeezed the sides to stop the timer.

  “Damn,” he muttered, obviously impressed.

  He couldn’t remember another person doing the lap so quickly. He pushed from the rail where he stood and walked toward the man who called him away from his day of movie bliss.

  “So?” Andrew McDonald wanted to know.

  “He’s amazing.” Derrick nodded with a smile. “That has got to be the quickest lap I’ve witness in—ever.”

  “So you like what you saw, eh?”

  “I sure do.”

  “I told you it wouldn’t be a waste of your time. Come on, let me introduce you to Jon,” Andrew offered.

  Derrick nodded and followed his business associate down the path leading toward where the rider was. He was perched on the seat of his cycle, with his helmet on, still staring at the track.

  “Jon!” Andrew called. The rider turned around and climbed off the cycle. “I’d like you to meet Derrick Bridger.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Derrick offered a hand.

  The rider removed his helmet and what Derrick saw caused his eyes to widen. He had to remove his sunglasses to ensure they weren’t blocking his view. The Jon that stood before him had long braids tied back from dark, chocolate skin, big brown eyes and pouted lips that would drive any man wild. Jon wasn’t a he at all.

  “Jonica Samuels.” She extended a hand to him with a smirk.

  “Well, hello,” Derrick shook her hand while eyeing Andrew with something along the lines of contempt. “Never saw that lap done so fast.”

  “I can tell you’re shocked I’m a woman.” Jonica released his hand and tucked the helmet beneath her arm. “I told Andrew not to waste your time. You can do what all the other potential sponsors do when they find out I don’t have a dick—turn right around and walk away.”

  “Is that right?” Derrick smirked. He couldn’t help it. He loved the way her spine straightened and her chin lifted at her comment. He saw fire flash through her brown eyes and he had to say he was intrigued. He loved a woman with a little pep to her. He loved a woman who could keep him on his toes and Jonica looked like the type to call him out on his shit.

  “I’m a businessman, Ms. Samuels. My father always told me looks can be deceiving. I always listen to my father and I don’t base any of my decisions on looks. Can I be honest with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “I base my business decisions on ideas, concepts and the like that will help my business grow and put some money in my pockets. You want to change and talk business?”

  He saw her eyes flash from impatience to confusion. She glanced at Andrew before looking back at Derrick.

  “Excuse me?” She tilted her head.

  “Ms. Samuels, today is my day off. It’s hotter than hell out here so the sooner we can have this meeting, the sooner I can go home again to a nice cold beer and Mr. Bruce Lee.”

  “Oh—gimme a couple of minutes.”

  Derrick nodded and stood out of her path as she walked by him. He watched her hips moving from side to side and shook his head. He should have realized Jon was a woman by the way the suit clung to her curves. Perhaps since he was expecting a man, he hadn’t looked over her body before, nor had it occurred to him to check out a man’s curves. He turned to glare at Andrew.

  “You set me up,” Derrick accused.

  “I know you’re mad.” Andrew held up a hand. “But you’ve seen how good she is. All she needs is a shot and I’m sure she can win. She’s worked long and hard for this and everyone just walks past her because she’s a woman. It ain’t right—you know it. I know it.”

  “And I agree, but you could have told me sooner.”

  “Would you have come if I had?”

  Derrick thought about it—Andrew was probably right. He probably would have rescheduled the meeting for another day just so he could have his day off in peace. Shaking his head, he walked back up the path and pushed into the building. Andrew’s office would do for the meeting with Jon once she changed her cloths. He stood before a vending machine and shoved in some coins. When the cola fell into the bottom, he grabbed it, pressed it open and took a long drink. Settling into his chair across from Andrew, Derrick glanced up when Jon walked into the room. She looked remarkably different.

  The jeans she wore clung to her hips. Her tank top lay against her flat stomach with just a hint of mid-drift showing. It was enough to be titillating—sexy, but not vulgar. He licked his lips and stood up, motioning to an empty chair across from him.

  “Thanks,” she said, shyly and fell into the chair.

  “All right.” Derrick pushed his drink away from him. “So I’ve seen you race as you can probably tell and I like what I saw. Actually, I was very impressed and it takes a lot to do that. Why haven’t you entered the Shinobi Grand Prix before?”

  “No sponsor.” Jonica shrugged. “No one wants to sponsor a woman and I can’t afford to run without a sponsor. I can barely afford gas and repairs now as is.”

  “That’s it?” Derrick arched a brow.

  “That’s it,” Andrew interrupted.

  “Well, a little bit about me. I own the Maverick Production Studios—”

  “I know about Maverick—I think I’ve seen all the movies that have come out of that studio and the music videos...though I have to tell you Sexy One – no offense but that video stunk.”

  Derrick laughed at her honesty. “To be honest with you, I agree... that wasn’t our best moment. Anyway,
if you don’t mind having a production company on your back I’d be honored to be your sponsor.”

  He saw the look in her eyes and smiled. “I’m serious,” he added.

  “Don’t play with me.” Jonica pushed backward into her seat, covering her face. “How do you even know I’ll qualify?”

  “If you can do what I saw you do today, on qualifying day, then there’s no if. You’ll qualify—it’s a matter of when.”

  “I’m dreaming.”

  Derrick reached over and pinched her.

  “Ow! Damn it!”

  “No, you’re not dreaming.” He smiled. “I’d like to change your colors actually.”

  “To what?” Jonica arched a brow.

  “Right now it’s pink and white.” Derrick rested backward in the chair causing it to creak. “I don’t think many take you seriously because of that. I know it’s the whole girl color thing but you want them see you as a threat to win it all—am I right?”

  She nodded.

  “Might I suggest red and black—or a dark blue and black—something that will tell them you’re in their faces and you won’t leave until you take that giant trophy home.”

  A smile played about her lips and Derrick knew she liked the idea.

  “I don’t have any paperwork with me, but tomorrow I’ll have my lawyer draft something up and send it over. After that we can have another meeting to get the ball rolling. We have only, what? Two and a half weeks to get you and your bike ready?” He looked at Andrew for confirmation.

  “That’s right.” Andrew agreed.

  “All right, so as I said the contract will be with you soon. You guys can go over it with your lawyers and if you accept the terms then we’re in business. But I do have to ask a favor.”

  “Are you kidding?” Jonica questioned eyeing him. “Name it.”

  Her eyes were shimmering and Derrick knew she wanted to cry.

  “Keep this under wraps until race day.”

  She arched a brow at him. “What do I tell them when they ask why I am running qualifiers?”

  “You really don’t have to tell them anything.” Derrick frowned. “Since you don’t pay the entrance fee until you are running in the actual Grand Prix race, right? It’s none of their business.”

  “Tell them you’re running without a sponsor,” Andrew told her. “You’re allowed to do that. As long as your cycle passes the inspections and Shinobi gets their entrance fee, they won’t care really.”

  Derrick nodded. “All right then.” He stood up and extended a hand to her. “I shall be in touch. Now I do have a date with a beer and some movies.”

  Jonica shook his hand. “Thank you—thank you so much.”

  He nodded his head to her before reaching over to pat Andrew on the shoulder. Turning on his heels he exited the room and jogged lightly down the steps while sliding his sunglasses over his eyes.

  Jonica was just a business—but there was something about a mocha goddess who could rip a motorcycle faster than most men he knew. There was something about watching a woman with a machine between her legs, going over two hundred miles per hour with the vibration of the engine against her most intimate areas. A low rumble left his chest and Derrick couldn’t help but smile. It had been so long just looking at a woman got him hard. He welcomed it. The women he was around on a regular basis were fake—fake smiles, fake skin color, fake breasts. Jonica, when she walked he could tell her tits were real from the way her cleavage danced with her movement. She wore no make-up, but a sliver of gloss over her pouted lips. He loved that—she looked natural, elegant and so delicious.

  Damn she’s sexy.

  He hit the remote on his key and with a sound, the front lights to his luxury car flashed on and off. He pulled open the door and slid into the front seat exhaling loudly. His legs squeezed against his arousal, sending torrents of electricity surging through his body.

  “Hello there.” He looked down at the bulge in the front of his pants. “Your timing stinks.”

  He sat there, head rested against the seat and eyes closed, wondering if he could work with her and keep his hands off. He had to though—business was business. He learned two things from his father when it came to making money; looks can be deceiving and never mix business with pleasure.

  Chapter Two

  Long after he left, Jonica stared over the balcony of her tiny one bedroom apartment, she was still shocked. In one afternoon, Derrick Bridger waltzed into her life and gave her an opportunity she had been yearning for ever since she was eighteen. She raced dirt bikes when she was younger, but made the switch to Shinobi at eighteen because she wanted to be taken seriously. The men in the field only laughed in her face and the businesses weren’t any different. For years, she would race the track when everyone else was gone home—hoping, praying someone would see how good she was and give her a chance.

  She nearly gave up—she only raced because she had the motorcycle still. She didn’t have the heart to sell it or park it in her garage and leave it there. Letting a cycle like hers go unused for any amount of time was the same thing as sacrilege in her book.

  Giving in to her overwhelming urge to scream, she spun around and entered the apartment. She closed the glass doors behind her and eyed the telephone. He asked her to keep her sponsorship to herself, but she felt if she didn’t tell someone she would burst. She knew she couldn’t tell her best friend. Maggie had a habit of blurting things out. Biting her finger, she dove across her bed and grabbed the phone. She dialed Maggie’s number before she could stop herself and waited while it rang.

  “Yelo!” Maggie answered.

  “Maggie, I got some good news! How fast can you get to my place?”

  “Uh—I’m just down the street at the Stafford Market. You want me to pick up anything?”

  “A bottle of red wine.” Jonica giggled.

  “All right, I’ll be there soon.”

  She hung up the phone. She wouldn’t tell Maggie who her sponsor was—she would simply tell her she had one and due to contract obligations she couldn’t say who it was yet. Nodding her head defiantly, Jonica stripped and walked into the shower. She had to hurry.

  With the water flowing over her, she thought back to Derrick Bridger. He didn’t look like the business man type. He resembled a pretty boy out of a magazine. Each time she looked at him she thought of those air brushed posters of sexy men in suits with a bottle of cologne at the bottom of the page. His long black hair lay over his head in large curls while his deep, blue eyes looked straight through to her soul. The black dress shirt he wore had draped beautifully—perfectly over wide shoulders with just a bit of his chest peeking out where he hadn’t done up the last two buttons. She knew he was built like a brick house beneath it. His blue jeans hung loosely over muscular thighs—she saw it when he crossed his legs at the table during their meeting.

  Derrick Bridger was sexy and if she was any other girl she would have tackled his ass across the table. But Jonica knew she had to be good. In another few days, Derrick Bridger, and his sexy self, would be her boss.

  Damn it!

  With thoughts of her new boss in her head, she began touching herself, but didn’t get very far. Her phone began peeling. She wanted so badly to ignore it. Moaning, Jonica turned off the water, wrapped a towel around her body and hurried into her bedroom.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m downstairs,” Maggie announced.

  Buzzing her friend into the building she knew she had at least a couple of minutes before Maggie got to her. Quickly, she dried her skin, slipped into some clothes and sprayed perfume on her neck. She released her braids over her shoulders and rubbed a little lotion against exposed skin before darting into the kitchen. She finished placing wine glasses into the freezer when the doorbell rang. With a grin, she darted to open the door.

  “You look happy.” Maggie hugged her.

  “I don’t think happy is the word I’d use.” Jonica grinned proudly, leading her friend into the living room.


  Maggie placed the wine down, but Jonica picked it up and walked into the kitchen. The glasses wouldn’t be as cold as she wanted but they would have to do. She took them out, opened the wine and poured two glasses. Handing one to Maggie, she took a seat across from her friend. “Thanks.” Maggie accepted her glass. “So what’s this big news that has you so giddy.”

  “I have a sponsor,” Jonica announced.

  “Really? About time! Who?”

  “I—can’t—tell you. It’s a part of the contract.”

  “Oh—forget that then! I’m happy for you! It’s about time someone saw how good you are! I’d drink to that.”

  The two touched their glasses together and Jonica sipped. “No one is more shocked than I am. I mean I gave up on ever entering Shinobi, and then he just waltzes into my life with those deep blue eyes and said, ‘I would be honored to sponsor you.’”

  “Were those his exact words?”

  Jonica nodded. “He would be honored? Him? Can you believe that? I never thought I’d hear that ever in my life about racing or anything else. But I have to change my colors—”

  “That’s nothing though,” Maggie interrupted. “I mean that’s a small price to pay for the millions of dollars this sponsor is going to throw at you and your team.”

  “I don’t have a team, remember?”

  That thought sent sadness through her. She didn’t have a team because all the qualified mechanics and pit staff were working for the male racers. The only person that stuck around was Andrew and since she couldn’t pay him, he had taken on a full time job, but volunteered to help her on weekend and evening runs at the track. She sighed and rested back in the sofa.

  “No one thinks I can do this—except you and Andrew.”

  “And your sponsor—I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have agreed to give you the backing you needed unless he thought you had a chance to qualify and at least place in the top four.”

  Jonica nodded taking another sip from her glass. “I guess. But it’s a horrible feeling knowing no one believes in you.”