The directions Gabe had texted were easy to follow. She had to cut through downtown, go east on Lake, and then drive north on Lawton. Piece of cake. To her delight, the traffic wasn’t heavy either. She had thought that at this time of year, everyone would be antsy to finally get outside after the cold winter, but her ploy to leave early seemed to have worked. The sky was heavy with clouds, but they didn’t look like the kind to carry rain. Getting wet would really suck.
Parking was free. Of course it is. This is Pleasure not Philadelphia. She wished she could borrow that memory erase stick from the movie Men In Black and believe John never existed.
To lessen the chance of another vehicle dinging her Lexus, she parked quite far away from the track. As soon as she exited her car and studied the area, she understood why Gabe said to wear causal clothes. The track, surrounded with a three-foot-high black, plastic barrier, was pitted with large tire tracks. For as far as she could see the winding dirt road with its manmade hills went every which way, and the course itself looked ridiculously deep. In some places, the dirt was maybe six inches to a foot deep. The most outrageous part was the intermittent puddles at the base of small hills. She closed her eyes for a moment and pictured a swarm of bikers coming around the corner, flying over the hill, and careening across the ten-foot-long water slide. Mud would fly, and her worst nightmare would result. She inhaled, determined to get through this event and enjoy herself for a change.
Chapter Three
Within minutes of Ceci’s arrival, the area began to fill up with a ton of people. It was a little sad that she didn’t recognize many of them even though she’d been in Pleasure for almost a year. Maybe she had stayed cooped up in her house too much of the time.
A strong set of hands clasped around her waist, and Ceci jerked around. “Gabe!”
Oh, my. He was dressed in a form-fitting jumpsuit that accentuated his broad shoulders and slim waist. His uniform’s basic color scheme was red and white, but there were colorful logos all over his arms and legs alike. The red boots were a bit too much for her, but from her research, it was what these races demanded. She did like that his suit had built in kneepads, and that he was carrying a very secure looking helmet under his arm.
“You ready for an adventure?” Gabe nodded to the track.
“I am.”
He grabbed her hand and led her close to a platform that loomed over the racetrack. Maybe there was a referee or someone who stood up there.
“You should be safe from the flying mud if you stay here. Whatever you do, don’t get too close to the start line. When we take off, there’ll be a shower of dirt that will even obscure the riders.”
“Yikes.” She appreciated the warning. Since he’d lived with her for a week, he’d seen how much dirt bothered her. She also liked everything neat and organized. The shrink she’d seen a few times said it was her way of coping. Her obsessive need for control stemmed from her inability to save John. She believed her need to stay clean was her way of keeping out the guilt.
She really didn’t want to think about that now, as she was here for a good time.
“So how many riders are in the race?” she asked, wanting to focus on something fresh and exciting. The fewer the number, the greater the chance he’d win.
“I haven’t seen the roster, but I’m guessing between twelve and twenty.”
She tried to picture all twenty at the starting line at once but failed. The road was too narrow. With some parts of the track super deep, she didn’t know how anyone could stay upright and not bump into each other. “Is it safe?”
He grinned. “You worried about me?”
Qualifying her answer might get her in trouble. “Yes.”
“Good.” He looked behind her and nodded. “Here comes Dylan. He’ll protect your from the adoring crowd when they rush to the winners’ platform and bow at my feet.”
She laughed and appreciated how he was always able to lighten the mood even when she was scared to death with concern.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Dylan asked Gabe. He then faced her and nodded. “Wall Street.”
Wall Street. She liked the nickname. He’d started calling her that when he and Gabe were protecting her. From the first, it stuck.
Just then several bikers raced around the track, their engines whining at a high pitch. Darn. She didn’t think to bring earplugs.
Gabe tapped her arm. “That’s my cue to go. I’m riding a yellow bike with a number seven on the front.”
“Good luck.” She meant it.
“A kiss would go a long way to ensure my win.” His eyes sparkled and her stomach twisted.
Go for it. It’s just a kiss.
She leaned over and brushed her lips on his cheek.
He straightened and held her gaze for a moment, but there was no censure, only lust. “I want to win, not come in third or fourth.”
She laughed, not believing he’d just rated her kiss. If there was one thing about Ceci that too many of her graduate school acquaintances eventually learned, it was that she was a competitor.
She moved in close, clasped his face between both of her palms, and planted a big one on his luscious lips. She’d meant to shock him, but she was the one who was taken by surprise. Holy shit. His lips were soft yet demanding, and her pussy actually vibrated then cramped with need. It probably had been years since she’d been affected like that, and her mind fogged.
Though he didn’t deepen the kiss, from the way he clasped her back and pressed his body against hers, he wanted to. His kiss held such promise that she didn’t want to stop. The shape and hardness between his legs suggested he was wearing a cup, but for a split second, she could imagine his erect cock pressed against her.
Stop it.
As if he sensed her change in mood, he stepped back and grinned. “Oorah. I’m going to win or get damned close. You rock, baby.”
Gabe trotted off to where the competitors had their bikes. Before she could figure out exactly what happened, Dylan wrapped an arm around her waist as if they’d been a couple for years. Her first instinct was to pull away, but then she decided she didn’t want to fight her demons any more—at least until they came for her again.
“Let’s move a little closer.”
“I can see from here.” Standing too near to the barrier would increase her chance of accidentally getting sprayed, but hey, it was only dirt. Right?
Take a chance. You want to restart your life.
The shrink didn’t need to tell her that dirt represented her guilt, and if she wanted to boot the shame to kingdom come, she had to start somewhere.
Dylan tugged her waist. “I want to cheer him on.”
“I doubt he can hear you no matter if you stand on the track.” Four riders whizzed around as if they wanted to get a feel for the race, the high pitch almost hurting her ears.
“Probably not, but he can see me if I’m at the barricade.”
She wasn’t going to win the battle so she let him guide her to the black plastic fence. “How long is this course?”
“Not sure, but the riders have to do twenty laps. This is strictly a non-professional race, but I’ll tell you what, sanctioned or not, all of these guys are in great shape. Your body takes a beating on one of those bikes.”
“I’ll take my Lexus with its superior shocks anytime.”
He huffed out a laugh, but she didn’t miss the slight wince that preceded it. She hadn’t meant to sound like a princess, but he acted like she was one. So what if she liked her luxuries and wasn’t the type who ever wanted to ride on the back of a motorcycle? That had been yet another bone of contention between her and John.
Once more she nodded to the track. “You don’t race?” He seemed the kind to love speed. Only an adrenaline lover would volunteer to defuse bombs. He must have asked for the assignment, as she couldn’t imagine the Army making someone do that job.
“I have a dirt bike and like to tool around, but Gabe is the competitive one—at least when it comes to th
is sport.”
A man’s voice boomed out over a loud speaker and she looked up at him standing on the platform. He waved a flag and a man at the start line did the same. The riders approached the line, and the noise from the machine nearly deafened her.
Even though the entire track had a short fence around it, if a biker lost control, the flimsy material wouldn’t be enough to stop him. Fortunately, the two hundred or so spectators were lined up along a straightaway, though many were crowded closer to the mud puddle at the end of the ramp than were at the start line. That was asking for a dirt bath.
The announcer asked the crowd to quiet for the national anthem. She didn’t see a flag, but nonetheless placed a hand over her heart while the canned music played. She glanced up at Dylan, who appeared more solemn than usual. She tried to imagine what he’d gone through while serving but couldn’t. No doubt, his demons ran deep, too.
After the lovely song, the announcer discussed the details of the race, but instead of listening to him, she studied the men on the bikes. Gabe was easy to spot on his brightly colored bike. He was the fifth one from the end and appeared larger than most of the other riders. She wondered if he was older than most, too.
A gun sounded and she jumped. The race was on. “Shit.” She immediately clamped a hand over her mouth and moved out of the way of the flying dirt that rained down everywhere. Gabe had warned her, but she didn’t think the spray would reach this far.
Dylan had the nerve to laugh. “You can’t escape the dirt, Wall Street. It’s the nature of the race.” He dragged her back up to the line. By now the dirt had settled. Thank goodness for yesterday’s light rain. That seemed to have kept down the dust. The mud, however, flew farther.
She shielded her eyes and tried to keep Gabe in her sights as he raced around the track but couldn’t. Because of the length of the course, and the many hills they had to traverse, there were times when she could only hear the bikers instead of see them.
She looked up at Dylan. “What happens if someone falls?”
He pointed through the thin line of trees. “There are watchers stationed along the way to radio for help. If this were a big race, people would be lining the entire course.”
“Someone could get hurt if the biker lost control.”
“If more people showed, the organizers would have put up metal barricades, but this is a friendly race so not many come out for it.”
She liked friendly. Another wave of racers sped by. Gabe was in fourth place, but she bet a person’s position after the beginning laps didn’t represent who’d be first at the end. When Gabe went over the big hill, she held her breath. She could see him land and when his bike emerged, she let out a breath.
There was a certain rhythm to the laps that she found almost soothing in a loud kind of way. The only mildly disturbing aspect was that after each pass, the ruts in the road grew deeper. By the tenth lap, Gabe’s bike no longer looked yellow, and the white on his suit had turned brown.
She wasn’t sure how it happened, but Dylan kept edging them closer to the finish line, and Ceci found herself yelling and cheering as the race neared the end.
Dylan grabbed her hand. “Let’s see Gabe jump the mound.”
Not giving any more thought to the condition of the track, she let herself be pulled toward the exciting jump.
“Look. Gabe’s leading!” She raised her hands above her head and waved them.
His bike shot up the mound and literally flew through the air. When he landed, his wheels slipped and his bike tilted, spewing mud everywhere. Dylan flipped around and tried to protect her from the clumps of mud but failed.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Let’s move away from here.”
She looked down and gasped. Not only were her jeans covered in mud, so were her shirt, hands, and she bet her face. She cracked open her purse and pulled out a package of cleansing wipes.
“Don’t bother. You’ll only smear it and make more of a mess.”
He was probably right. Damn. She wiped her hands anyway, then shoved the dirty tissue in her purse. Coming here might have been another mistake, but damn, she was having fun.
Many of the spectators had moved closer to the finish line, and with only two more laps to go, so did they.
Gabe was still in fourth place as he neared the end but then he leaned his bike over so that his knee practically scraped the ground. When he finished the turn, he was in third place.
“Go, Gabe. Go.”
He wouldn’t be able to hear her between the screaming crowd and the noise from the engines. Three bikes passed them in rapid succession. When they crossed the finish line, it looked like Gabe and the man on bike number seventeen were tied.
Her pulse raced and she was actually tired from all the excitement. She looked up at Dylan. “Could you tell if he came in second or third?”
“No, but there are cameras to help with the decision.”
“I wouldn’t have thought a track like this would have sophisticated equipment.”
He smiled. “The racers take the event seriously. Without confirmation of a winner, a brawl might break out.”
“Then I’m glad for the cameras.”
Since she hadn’t been to one of these events before, she didn’t know what to expect now that the race was over. No one seemed to be leaving.
Dylan led her over to a bench situated near the podium. “Take a couple of minutes to rest. The racers will need to get a drink and stash their bikes. Then the awards ceremony will start in a few.”
So that’s why most were staying around. She was watching the crowd when a set of rather smelly hands clamped over her eyes. He let go immediately and jumped in front of her.
“Gabe!” She wanted to clean her face, but decided there was no way to do that in this place. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” He held out his ungloved hand. “Come on.”
She had no idea where he wanted her to go. She looked up at Dylan who merely smiled and shrugged. Gabe seemed so excited that he half-dragged her the few feet to the podium. Maybe he wanted her to have a front row view of him receiving his award. But then he led her up the steps.
Halfway, she stopped. “What are you doing?”
“I want you to celebrate with me. Please?”
While his mouth wasn’t quite in a pout, it was close. This reminded her of high school after the football and basketball games when everyone was so excited at a win that they’d storm the field or the court. The players loved it when the crowd joined in to celebrate their victory.
“Okay.”
When he pulled her next to him on the podium, she cringed at all the mud he was getting on her clothes. It’ll wash out.
The announcer talked about the great race and then held up a small trophy. “Third place goes to Steve Selzky.”
She looked at the young man who didn’t look a day over twenty. The crowd cheered and he waved and smiled, acting like he’d won a million dollars.
“Second place goes to our veteran rider, Gabe Henderson.”
More applause. He leaned over. “Veteran means old man.”
She laughed.
“And first place goes to Harold Stemler!”
All three men lifted the trophies over their heads and waved them at the adoring crowd. She was so happy for Gabe. She’d even surprised herself how much fun she was having, despite being coated in dirt head to toe. For some reason, she wasn’t freaking out.
That was until the announcer, along with two other men, popped open champagne bottles and aimed the spray at their faces. Her mood turned so foul that she knew there was no chance in hell she’d ever go out with either man again for as long as she lived.
Chapter Four
“I can’t believe he did that.” Ceci had to shout her objection over the crowd noise as she swiped the dripping liquid from her face.
Gabe didn’t even seem to notice they were covered in champagne. Wet faced, wearing his filthy jumpsuit, he dragged her to him and kissed her. Okay,
maybe “never going out with them for the rest of her life” had been an overreaction.
The contact with Gabe was brief, but in those few seconds, she ceased to hear the crowd or think about her sopping hair as his kiss swirled inside her and headed straight between her legs. Before she was ready to end the mind-numbing connection, he stepped back but still held her tight. “I bet you’d like to clean up, huh?”
He knew her well. “You guessed right.”
That was his polite way of saying it was time for her to go home. That worked for her.
Liar. You had a great time. Her heart probably hadn’t beaten that fast in a positive way in longer than she could remember.
Gabe motioned she step down first. Dylan pushed his way through the crowd, met her at the bottom of the steps, and held out his hand. “Easy there.” He pulled a white handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped her face dry.
By now, she had to be caked in dirt and her makeup would be totally streaked. Just wonderful. “How about you clean up at our place? It’s only a mile from here.”
She was tempted, but what she really needed was a shower and a change of clothes. “That’s okay. I’ll head home.”
She expected a look of disappointment, not a half-smile. “You’re actually going to get in your Lexus with all that mud on you?” He nodded to her dirt-encrusted boots.
Shit. “I can’t walk home, can I?” Getting mud in her car would suck. She couldn’t be sure she could remove the stains from the carpet. “You have a better suggestion?”
“I’ll take you to our place, you clean up, and then I’ll drive you back here.”
She liked his simple solution. “Okay.” She could rinse the soles of her boots and be good to go. Or not.
Gabe tapped her shoulder. “I gotta take care of my bike. See you back at our place then.”
“Sure.”
Dylan clasped her hand as if he’d been doing it for a long time and followed the crowd toward the parking lot. Being with Dylan seemed comfortable until he walked her to a motorcycle. She slipped her hands from him. “I don’t do motorcycles.”
Dirty Pleasures [Pleasure, Montana 10] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3