by Shey Stahl
“Duh, I’m an idiot,” Tommy shrugged taking a drink of his beer.
Casten, who was a little worked up, smacked the beer out of his hand and fisted his hands in his white t-shirt. “Where did you even get it from?”
Some would think, oh, that’s sweet he’s defending you, Hayden. No. Don’t go and get all sappy and shit. I understood completely that he was only acting this way because he was so fearful of snakes. It had nothing to do with me.
“A friend.” Tommy replied self-consciously yanking at his shorts. Then he raised his hands to shove Casten back a little. “You replaced my team shorts with smaller ones, didn’t you?”
Casten laughed, his eyes suddenly bright. “No, I think you gained some weight.”
Casten and Tommy got into a little bit of a wrestling match after that and I lost interest in them and a beer sitting on the picnic table caught my eye. I didn’t care whose it was, I started drinking it.
That was until Jameson sat down next to me, all relaxed, wearing board shorts and no shirt.
My mouth almost dropped open. He could have been my dad. Could have. But no dad in my mind had a body like that and the smile to match.
Jesus.
“That was my beer,” he said, opening another Coors Light. After taking a drink, he smiled. “How’s your foot?”
I shrugged as if I was completely comfortable around him, when I wasn’t. “It hurts.”
Jameson looked at my foot propped up beside me and then at Tommy. “I thought they were joking when they said Tommy put a snake in his truck.”
“They weren’t,” Tommy replied for me, sheepishly hanging his head as he took a seat beside me. “I’m really sorry.”
Apparently, that friend Tommy got the snake from had been bitten before and nothing happened. I would then say he was full of shit. But, and this is a big but, he was bitten by a scarlet king snake. NOT the coral snake that bit me. Stupid fuck got the rhyme mixed up.
Sway came up to us sitting at the table, all mother-like and smacked Tommy in the ear. “How could you do that?”
“Hey,” Tommy gestured to Casten who was now smiling. “This asshole has done his fair share of shit to me!” He tugged on his nut-huggers. “He replaced all my team shorts with ones two sizes too small!”
Casten chuckled beside me.
“Has he ever put a poisonous snake in your truck?”
“I don’t have a truck.” Sway gave Tommy a murderous stare. “No, I suppose he’s never done anything that serious. But I didn’t think it was venomous,” he defended holding his palms up.
Sway smacked him in the ear again for good measure.
“You guys are a bunch of fucking weirdos,” I said, finishing off my beer.
They all laughed at me but I was serious.
Strangest fucking two days of my life.
Speed – Speed is the rate of motion of an object.
I wasn’t sure what to make of seeing the Riley family all together. So far this was my first time meeting his mother, with me fully clothed, and the rest of the clan.
His brother, Axel, was there with his wife and two boys, as well as the one cooking in Lily’s stomach. She barely looked pregnant. Not even a bump that I saw and turns out she was four months pregnant. Anyhow, his nephews, Jack and Jonah, were adorable little versions of Axel except with blonde hair and blue eyes.
Jonah, the two-year-old, had these long curly eyelashes and a freckled nose. When he looked up at you, his eyes were all you saw. They reminded me of Casten in a way. And, sure enough, Jonah was a Casten lover.
As soon as they spotted their uncle, both boys and Abigale, who I had yet to meet in person, came running toward him.
Jameson laughed, smiling at me. “He’s a fan favorite around here.”
He was right. Casten was a good uncle and quickly become engrossed in their little games they wanted to play of him giving each one of them piggyback rides and crawling on all fours to chase them around the small patch of grass next to the motor home parked at the campsite.
In the distance was the lake but surrounding the campsite was a small fire pit, two motor homes, and three different tents.
Willie, Dave, and two other drivers who raced for Jameson, Rager and Cody, were apparently at a hotel closer to the track with the haulers and decided against camping.
After a few hours, I kind of understood why.
It was crazy.
Sway and Jameson had disappeared into their motor home. Axel and Lily were at the lake with Jack, who insisted on swimming up until the very last second they had to leave for the track. Casten was still chasing Jonah and Abigale. Spencer, Cole’s dad who I finally met, introduced himself.
“Fuck, you really did get bit, didn’t you?” I could tell instantly he was Cole and Lane’s dad.
Slightly bigger than Jameson, you could tell they were brothers. Same eyes, just different colors and same hair texture, again different colors.
Spencer’s seemed darker and had some gray shades to it now; however, it was cut shorter on the sides and messier in the front. Jameson’s was short and about the same length as his beard he sported these days.
“You know,” I began when Spencer handed me another beer from the place I’d been sitting since I got there. “Let me ask you something, Spencer …” I paused for the effect and he smiled, leaning forward on his elbows his hands wrapped around the silver beer can in front of him. “How long have you known Tommy?”
Spencer seemed to think about that answer for a minute, then shrugged, making eye contact with me. “Since we were kids.”
“Okay … in all that time did you ever think he was smart?”
He laughed and answered immediately. “No. Never.”
“Then why is it surprising to anyone that he put a snake in Casten’s truck?”
“He’s just never done anything that stupid.”
See, that made sense, but knowing what I knew about Tommy, he seemed to be fairly naïve. I honestly don’t think he knows what’s dangerous and what’s not.
Spencer made his way back to his wife after that, who was fully engrossed in her granddaughter, Abigale.
That’s when Casten found me again and wrapped his bare arms around me. It never took long for him to remove his shirt once he was free to…I didn’t mind one bit.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, kissing the side of my neck.
Part of me thought maybe with him being around his family I might see a different side of him. I wasn’t sure how his family would react to me and while they all seemed welcoming, you just never know if you’re that girl they smile at, then turn around and roll their eyes while calling you every other slutty word they could think of behind your back.
None of the Riley family seemed that way.
The Harris family, we were different. Walk away and we made fun of anything we could think to poke fun at.
While I grew up around that judgmental presence, it was nice to have this laid back atmosphere.
“You okay?” Casten asked, giving a nod to my toe.
“I’m good.” I said to Casten who moved me on his lap. It might not have appeared appropriate, but I straddled him.
He groaned and set me beside him pulling at his shorts like Tommy had done earlier. “Shit, this might be hard today.”
“It’s been two days …” I sighed, feeling pitiful with my foot all jacked up. Didn’t exactly feel sexy.
“I think I can make it up to you in ways you’ll approve,” he breathed against my neck as he leaned over and kissed the pebbled skin.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jameson walk up, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt now and his bag in hand. “Knock it off,” he said to Casten letting his bag knock into his son as he walked by.
Casten laughed, rocking backward slightly. “Ready for some dirt track racing?”
As I looked around, it seemed everyone was making their way over to the cars and trucks parked in front of the campsite.
“All I can say is that if t
here’s a snake, or any other animal that bites me, don’t count on me building you another fuck fort.”
He pretended to be hurt and his eyes did this slow blink. “That’s an awful thing to say. I had nothing to do with that snake.”
He didn’t, and I didn’t blame him for it. I also couldn’t have him thinking he was off the hook either.
I gave him a glare and then allowed him to carry me to the truck.
We left for the track around one that afternoon. The track, about an hour from the lake, was out in the middle of nowhere, dry and dusty. When you entered the grounds, a white sign with black letters led you inside the grounds of the half mile D-shaped clay track.
Welcome to Devil’s Bowl Speedway
I’ve been to dirt tracks before so this wasn’t my first time. It was my first time to Devil’s Bowl and Texas Nationals. I’ve been to nearly every NASCAR track at one time or another as well.
And this was my first time with the pit experience, too.
While everyone seemed to have something to do at the track, I stayed seated in a chair next to Jameson’s hauler watching everything. Occasionally someone would come by me and ask if I needed anything, but other than that, I was on my own.
Casten was helping his brother, who’d apparently blown a motor the other night in El Paso.
It was hot and if I wouldn’t have been wearing a sundress, I probably would have spread my legs to allow a breeze up there, had there been one.
Eventually, I got bored and walked over to them standing beside Axel’s car they’d just replaced the engine in.
“What are they doing?” I pointed at the ground beside Axel’s car. “What’s that box?”
“They’re putting heat in the engine.” His chin rested on my bare, sunburnt, shoulder. The faint scruff of his jaw scraped against me. “Methanol, the alcohol they use in the engines—”
Menthol? Finally, a term I knew. “Like cough drops?”
Casten, now dressed in black shorts that matched the rest of the team and a JAR Racing button down short sleeved shirt, lifted his chin and turned me around to face him, his brow quirked in both confusion and amusement. “Yes, like cough drops. They just put the cough drops inside the engine and it starts.”
He was joking with me. Ass.
I shook my head. “Never mind.”
I tried to walk away but he grabbed my shoulders bringing me back against his chest and wrapping his arms over my chest holding me there. He kissed my shoulder again.
“Alcohol, not cough drops, but methanol which is what sprint cars run off of. You know, like your piece of shit Corolla runs off gas or ethanol, well, sprint cars use methanol.” He kissed my earlobe and then continued. “Alcohol burns very cool. The engines don’t need a lot of cooling either because they don’t produce a lot of heat internally. So with a sprint car,” he gestured toward Axel’s car once more, “when they get out on the track it’s a sprint, usually under twenty-five laps and fewer than that in the first part of the night. They need the engine to be up to temp by the time the green flag is thrown.”
“What happens if it’s not, you know, up to temp?” I shifted my hips and, in turn, rubbed my ass against him. You can guess his reaction. He pressed forward giving me a good indication that he was enjoying it.
“Well, if an engine isn’t up to temperature and race ready,” he pressed forward once again. I sighed. The heat of the day, the smell of him wrapped around me, it was all so wonderful. “It causes premature failure, or premature wear.”
Tommy walked up to us, beer in hand and smiled at me, then winked. “It’s like not waiting until a woman is wet. You go out there and expect power when it’s cold and you’re asking for problems. No one likes a dry track either.” He winked again. “We like ‘em moist and slick.”
Oh my God.
Tommy and Casten exchanged a look I couldn’t see and then I felt Casten smile. “It also reduces start up wear on the engine and produces maximum horsepower as soon as they’re on the track.”
“How long does it take to get them up to temperature?”
Tommy, who was beside Casten, let out a laugh and then walked back over to Axel who was looking at us curiously. I heard Tommy holler over the sound of the sprint cars rumbling two pits down. “He’s telling her about putting heat in an engine.”
Axel rolled his eyes and walked between the haulers and up the hill to watch track preparation.
“Hour and a half,” Casten finally answered.
I turned this time in his arms to look at him. The sunlight blinded me but I saw enough to know he was smiling down at me. “Good thing I don’t take that long.”
“Very good thing,” he reached forward and grabbed me by the hand and into him. “Let’s take a walk.”
I knew exactly where we were going. That announcer’s booth he showed me earlier.
And I couldn’t fucking wait.
Casten had a key to the announcer’s booth, how I don’t know and didn’t care. There’s something about doing it in public that’s thrilling for any girl.
When you’re strung out on pain pills and beer, it’s just that much more exciting if you ask me.
Once inside the booth, I was on my knees and tugging at his belt. He had no objections and let his shorts fall to the floor around his ankles. Slowly, I palmed down his dick, excited to have it in my mouth once again.
No objections from him.
“Fuck my mouth!” I said around him, gurgling and gagging, but still doing everything I could to get it all in my mouth. Casten slumped forward, his hands on the table behind me and then started moving his hips. With one hand securely supporting him and had the other wrapped around the back of my head slamming himself inside my mouth repeatedly.
I couldn’t see his face any longer but by the grunts and soft moans, I’d say I was giving him what he wanted.
“Fuck, you really know how to give head,” he said in between gasps.
I like to pride myself in my dick sucking abilities. It’s an acquired artistic talent of mine.
I was really getting into it. I was proud of this blow job. It could have been in a fucking porno, it was that good of a display.
In the distance I could hear someone knocking on the door, beating on it actually, but ignored them for the most part when I knew Jameson was outside. “Open the goddamn door, Casten! Turn off the intercom!”
Casten stopped, but not for long, I don’t think he cared and smacked his hand against the wall behind my head.
I paused, and he had something to say about that. “Don’t. Don’t fucking stop.” His hands tangled in my hair again forcing himself back in my mouth.
I had no problems with that.
Before I could finish him off that way, he flipped me over and was entering me painfully slow.
His hands smoothed over my ass and then over my hips to take a firm hold of me. Needing it harder, I started to push back pounding myself against him. Taking my clue, he moved faster pumping in and out of me in a fevered motion I needed.
I turned my head to look over my shoulder at him. “Oh, yeah, you like that daddy? Fuck me, give it to me! Fuck me harder! Harder!”
I’m not sure Casten knew what to make of me acting like this but he kept pace.
It was all too much and I was moaning and screaming. I couldn’t take it anymore and I fell back against the window when we both came down from our high, and noticed, or heard for that matter, cheering.
Casten didn’t pay any attention and pulled his shorts back up and then helped me right my dress. You could hear the cars on the track now and the announcer was banging on the door. “Casten, get out here right now.”
Apparently, they’d had some kind of deal and I learned early on of Casten’s ability to negotiate.
Taking me by the hand, we walked out and the cheering was louder. Way louder than I would expect for what they called hot laps.
A tall man with a bald head and red cheeks met us outside the door. “You had the intercom on.�
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Turns out, they were screaming for what they’d heard.
Casten swallowed and then a huge smile took over. “I’d say they heard a good show, pretty girl.”
I did the only thing appropriate…I bowed to the crowd.
Jameson and Sway were standing there, arms crossed staring at us when Jameson fixated on Casten. He surprisingly didn’t say anything and walked away shaking his head.
Casten kissed my cheek quickly and then jogged to catch up with his father leaving me to walk with Sway.
“What did you hear?” I asked Sway, who couldn’t help but laugh at my expression.
“It cut off after you asked my son if he wanted to fuck your mouth like a …” she paused, “and then it cut off … thankfully.”
I’m glad he hit that button when he fell forward. I thought to myself.
Have you ever had one of those moments in your life when you wished you could reverse time and take back what just happened?
While I didn’t want to take back that amazing sex, I wished my head wouldn’t have hit that button on the desk.
Sway didn’t seem upset, and instead, swung her arm around me. “We used to do it against those billboards out there behind the track,” she squeezed tighter. “No judging here. No judging.”
I had an amazing night at the races and an even better night once we were inside our tent that night.
When I woke up the next morning it was hot, humid and I was incredibly sore. I felt like the room was spinning or I was spinning. It almost reminded me of a seasick feeling like the time my uncle Tate took me and Haley out in the Atlantic Ocean on his boat one summer. I puked all over him and his boat, and was never invited back.
The rocking motion I felt now was similar.
It wasn’t a good feeling either. And something was sucking on my toe. Something wet and slimy. It wasn’t painful and I gathered it wasn’t my bandaged snake-bitten toe. Thank God for that. Casten accidently touched it last night I nearly broke his hand.