by Alice Ward
And I knew without a doubt that I would love racing the qualifier. Even if I came in at the bottom of the pack, which hell, I planned not to do, the journey would be a fucking blast.
“How’m I looking?” I asked them as I sailed past pit road.
Truthfully, I knew the answer. Damn good. I just wanted them to tell me.
“You’re on fire, girl,” Brody said. “Keep digging. Feel it out.”
He didn’t have to tell me. I was on and having the time of my life. I whooped as I wrapped around my third time, and this time, I pushed it up to one-eighty. “Hell yeah! I love this course!” I shouted.
I heard them laughing at me as I gripped the wheel tighter. Once I got the feel for things, I started to loosen up so I could explore the dash. I got the hang of all the readings, most of which I never cared to know, and probably wouldn’t need. But whatever. This car was awesome. This track was awesome. I couldn’t stop smiling from ear to ear.
After my tenth lap, I started to get a little lonely out there. It was fun, riding with the track to myself, but that wasn’t how things would be during the race.
“Hey, bro,” I said into my mic. “Anyone want to give me a hand out here? Help me test my reaction time?”
“Yep,” Jonesy replied. “We’ve got someone suiting up right now for you.”
“Thank you!” I said, stretching my fingers on the wheel. This would be fun.
To think, I’d been contemplating giving all this up. To think, I’d been wondering whether this was Brody’s game and not mine. Oh, hell no. This was all me. And surprise on top of surprise, wearing lipstick and dresses was me too. I loved this life, racing hot cars and then getting dressed up and making people like Locke Cage lose their marbles by showing a little skin.
I felt better than amazing. I felt invincible.
“Coming out now,” Jonesy said to me as I sailed past pit road.
I saw a white, nondescript practice car in my rearview and slowed to get it in line with me. It sailed up right behind me, sitting right in my draft, a typical Brody move.
Was it Brody?
I knew that wasn’t possible. I needed to win a race to get him that expensive racing arm. But the way he drove, right on my ass, mirrored him. Typical pussy move. I wanted to pound on my brake, just to unnerve him.
Instead, I pushed forward. Then, without warning, the car swerved around me, tapping my right side slightly. Visions of Brody’s accident swirled in my head. Oh, hell no. Was this jerk suicidal? Did he really want to test me like that on a practice run?
I straightened in my seat and swerved ever so slightly, shaking him off, then I lurched ahead, taking the lead.
The driver whirled around me on the curve, cutting me off so that I nearly went against the wall. Cursing him, I sped up, but he matched me.
Then he got behind me, and I knew I was destined for a push. I jammed on the accelerator, not giving him the satisfaction.
Okay, so this definitely wasn’t Brody. Brody wouldn’t have the guts to do that. In fact, I didn’t know a single driver with the guts to pull that move. “Who is this fucker?” I said under my breath.
Jonesy and Brody didn’t hear me because they didn’t answer. But I wanted to know because he was really starting to get on my nerves.
I pushed on, managing to skirt around him on a straightaway, but he got the upper hand again, sailing around me on a curve. This was good. I’d been holding back, I realized. I was in a very expensive car and a little afraid of messing it up. But now…
“All right, boy. No pussyfooting,” I said. “This is war.”
Putting on my big girl panties, I floored it, sailed around him, tapping his left back side. He started to fishtail, then lost control and spun out. I pumped my fist, but the next thing I knew, he’d righted himself and was coming after me again.
“Time’s up, girl,” Jonesy said as I was still grappling with my opponent. Sad that playtime was over, I loosened the strap on my helmet. I realized my forehead was dripping with sweat — I needed to get the vents figured out too — as I wheeled onto pit road.
I pulled in and opened the door as the white car came up alongside me. When the door opened, a grinning Locke stepped out.
I just stood there, mouth open.
“I thought—”
“I may have been practicing a little more in the simulator,” he said to me. “And I may or may not have done a little racing in the past. I don’t like the actual race, but I love the racing classes.”
I recalled some of the more suicidal moves he’d made. Simulator nothing — how had he managed to get past the steep banking? What was he, a lunatic? “Are you fucking kidding me? You almost killed both of us!”
“Not too bad for a pretty boy, huh?” he said with a smirk.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Hmph.”
He motioned me toward him. “Come on. Tell me how awesome I was.”
I gave him a superior glare. Even though all I really wanted to do was jump into his arms and kiss him. Brody was watching, along with the rest of the pit crew, so I settled on holding out my fist.
We bumped.
“You like your car?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m not used to working in such terrible conditions,” I said with a shrug. “But I’ll make do.”
He was still grinning like an idiot as we peeled off our fire suits. “I feel good,” he said. “Does racing always make you feel that good?”
I nodded, smiling at what a fucking dork he was. That goofy grin. It was adorable, but also totally goofy.
He clenched his fists in front of him, like a ball of energy. His eyes were gleaming. “It’s an endorphin overload. I just want to, I don’t know—”
“Let me guess. Lift weights. Run ten miles?”
He stared at me. “Is that all you think I am?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Basically. Tell me you were thinking something else.”
“Okay, no, I was actually thinking of going for a run,” he admitted, his grin going sheepish. He studied his sleek black CageFree and tapped it. “That burned a hell of a lot of calories.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re a dork.” My CageFree was blinking with my calories burned, eight-hundred-twenty. Okay, that was impressive. “All right. Well, I was going to go for a run on the beach. Figured I’d end up at the training center. Do you want to go with me?”
He nodded, held out his hand for another fist bump. “You’re on.”
I stared at him. “This is not a race,” I warned.
“Of course not,” he said, giving me an innocent look. But when we handed over our gear and started to leave, I caught him mutter just under his breath, “Not yet.”
We skipped out onto the street, then made our way to the beach. And of course, he made it a race. But even though I wasn’t a runner, I matched him stride for stride. As we ran, he talked easily about racing and how if he’d known it was that great, maybe he’d have gone in a different direction with his career choice. I didn’t speak as much because I didn’t want him seeing how out of breath I was getting.
When we reached the training center, he said, “So you want to increase your reaction time?”
I was still breathing hard, bent over, trying to get air into my lungs. “You don’t stop, do you, Energizer Bunny?”
He shrugged. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
He grabbed a bag from inside the training center, and headed back outside, staying on the concrete. Frankly, his brand of fun was scaring me. But I went along with it because I really wanted to make him suffer like I had at that parkour course. He clearly lived to exercise and didn’t want anyone besting him, the psychopath. And I loved the challenge.
He dropped the bag and pulled out a small box of ping-pong balls. “Okay, you stand there, hands on your waist. I’m just going to drop these, one at a time, and you have to reach out and grab them. Okay?”
I nodded and did so. It wasn’t hard. I got nine out of ten, the tenth one a narrow miss, bo
uncing off my fingertips. “Easy.”
He reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of fancy sunglasses. “Try these.”
I fixed them over my head. I realized that something inside them kept blinking, cutting off part of my vision. I wrinkled my nose. I didn’t like them at all.
It made things harder. The next time, I only got five out of the ten balls. It frustrated me. “Can we do something else?” I asked, ripping off the glasses.
He leaned forward, a gleam in his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
“I grew my reaction time at home with kickboxing,” I said. “Usually my brother.”
He stared at me, astonished. “Kickboxing?”
“Yeah. So give me your best shot.” I motioned him forward and led him down to the beach.
“My best—”
“Yeah. Punch me.”
“I—”
“Trust me.”
He brought his hands up in fighting position. When his jab came, I easily anticipated it. It was slow and way softer than I knew he could do. “You punch like a girl,” I told him. “You could probably be the star of your next advertising campaign. Bring it, Cage.”
The next one was harder, but still child’s play. “Come on, show me what you’re made of!” I taunted, then ducked his next punch and drove a hard one right under his ribs.
He staggered back, the breath knocked out of him for a moment. “What—” he started. “How did you learn to hit like that?”
I shrugged. “Brody. So stop pussyfooting and fight me!”
“Pussyfooting?” he repeated, circling me, fists raised. “I bet you wouldn’t be on such a high horse if you were distracted. Why don’t I show you some pussy-tonguing instead?”
The suggestion and resulting mental image made me shiver. I faltered, but only for a second. I whirled and elbowed him in the side. “Nice try.”
He didn’t stop. “What if I took down your pants right here and thrust my tongue deep inside you, Emma?”
God, if anything could distract me, that was it. I dropped my hands for a second, but still managed to block his next jab, but with barely enough time.
He knew it was working because he persisted. “Focus, Emma,” he said, even as my concentration wavered.
The sun was setting behind the buildings of Daytona, its orange rays painting a glow on his sweat-covered limbs, making them look good enough to lick. The endorphins had definitely done their thing, leaving me not only energized but also… extremely horny. I was wet from the second he mentioned his magic tongue on my body.
“Mmm, I could just imagine sucking your clit into my mouth, Emma. Right here, on the beach. You’re so fucking wet and perfect and—”
Yes, yes, yes, that was what I wanted. It had been a long day, and all I could think of now was getting closer to him. I let my guard down for one second, but it was enough for him to sweep my legs. He did it so easily that I toppled backward, landing on the soft sand with all the air knocked out of me.
He crawled atop me, and as I poised to wrestle him, grabbed my wrists and held them over my head. “You’re so incredible, Emma,” he whispered, even as I fought him.
I wasn’t sure why I was fighting. I wanted it, and everything he’d said in his taunts. I knew it wasn’t supposed to be, and maybe it could get us in trouble, but I didn’t care. I was sick of living up to other’s expectations of me. I wanted him, now.
I surrendered as he lowered his mouth to mine.
When he broke the kiss, and his mouth trailed to my jaw, I whispered, “You’ve won this round. It’s clear my reaction time isn’t good enough. I think you need to come back to my apartment and teach me more.”
He nodded and took my hand, lifting me to standing. “Are you sure about this?”
“More than ever,” I told him, feeling brazen.
He pressed kisses into my hairline, then found my mouth in the darkness and kissed me deeply. Nothing in my life had ever felt this perfect, and I couldn’t imagine ever feeling this way again. I whispered, “Let’s go.”
I led him back to my apartment. We didn’t talk the whole time. Mostly, we held hands, caressing, touching, holding and kissing each other. When we got inside, I pulled off my bra top as he was closing the door. I grinned at his expression. “I’m taking a shower. I’m all sweaty and sandy. Care to join me?”
He nodded. “Is this a trick question?”
“It may be. I may test your reaction time.” I guided him into the bathroom, toward the bench in the enormous walk-in shower. “Sit.” He did, clothes and all. It made me grin.
I turned on the faucet, and warm water sprayed down on me. Tilting my head up, I let it pour over me, running my hands through my hair, rinsing the sand from it. Then, I turned my back to him, to give him a look at my ass. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw that he was rapt, watching the water cascade over my naked body. I smiled. “You like?”
He groaned. “There are no words for you. You’re gorgeous, Emma.”
I’d never felt so sexy. I took the soap and started to lather myself up in a slow motion that made his tongue hang from his open mouth. He let out breath after tortured breath, just enjoying the view. And I could tell by the way his cock tented his gym shorts that he was definitely enjoying it.
“Locke…” I said as I ran the soap over my breasts, lathering them up.
“Hmm…” His voice sounded faraway as he focused intently on my body.
“Think fast,” I shouted, and I tossed the soap at him without warning.
It bounced off his chest. He only seemed to notice it when it slid into his lap. He narrowed his eyes at me, and I burst out laughing.
Before he could react, I snaked my hands behind his back and pulled him off the seat, toward me, pressing every inch of myself against him. My nipples rubbed against his chest, but it didn’t feel like enough. He wrapped me in his arms for a moment, and we just let the warm water soak our bodies. It felt so amazing, having him so close to me.
But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. He leaned in and nibbled on my ear. “It’s crazy how much I want you, Emma. I don’t even understand it.”
I lifted the hem of his tech shirt and yanked it over his head. “Then take me. Unless I take you first.”
A suspicious smile dawned on his face.
Emboldened, I quickly reached down and tugged him out of his gym shorts. His cock was ready, hard and pointing straight at me. I wanted to make him feel good. He deserved that much. I fell to my knees, took his hard cock in my hand, and began to lick and suckle his balls.
“Oh, fuck,” he breathed. “Emma. Shit.”
I looked up. He was grasping the showerhead in a death grip, his chest rising and falling in short, uneven bursts. His eyes were closed, his face a tight mask of ecstasy… caused by me.
I’d done this.
I had this power over him.
The power to bring this strong man to his knees.
The thought was humbling, and tenderness washed over me in waves.
I licked him slower now, relishing this moment. I’d never felt more powerfully feminine before. I loved it.
And I wanted more.
He growled low in his chest as I took the thick head of his cock into my mouth, feeding it into my throat, slowly at first, then working my way toward the base. I fisted the inches I couldn’t take and pumped him just slightly in and out of my mouth, increasing the intensity and speed, the suction.
Forcing my throat to relax even more, I took him all the way, feeling the tip of his cock scrape the back of my throat, and grabbed his ass, urging more of him into me. I wanted all of him. I wanted everything.
His hands moved to my hair where he wrapped the strands in his fists. He began to pulse, feeding himself fully to me. I took what he gave me, greedy for more. I’d never enjoyed oral sex, but I was enjoying it now.
He thickened in my mouth, and his movements became more urgent. I held on to his ass, wanting this too. But Locke had other ideas. He stepped back,
his cock leaving my mouth with a naughty pop. When I started to protest, he pulled me up by the hair.
“Come here.”
He kissed me hard, then whirled me around, planting me with both palms against the shower wall. Then he was inside me, splitting me open in one smooth thrust.
With one hand on my breast, the other moved down to my clit, and electricity fired through me as it circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, his teeth nipping my ear and neck, adding to the overwhelming sensations.
“Locke… I…”
“I know, baby. I know.”
He pinched my nipple roughly between his fingers, adding pain to the mix, and I tipped over the edge, my body spasming, tightening, soaring into the place I’d only known with this man.
He followed me, his movements wild, his breath hot against my hair. “God, Emma…”
I leaned back against him, feeling him shudder his release into me. “I know, baby. I know.”
Most people would call me naive, and I probably was. I was a track rat, a dirty little tomboy used to grease jockeys and rough talk.
All this was new, and Locke Cage could be the best actor in the world, making me think I was special… but I knew that wasn’t just an act. We were special. What we did with each other was special.
I knew it. And I believed with everything in my heart that he knew it too.
In the aftermath, even as we still trembled and held each other under the spray of water, I felt our lives melting more completely into each other.
Yes, our relationship was complicated.
Yes, we should have stayed away from each other.
Yes, we should have focused on the race, the business at hand.
Yes… I was overthinking instead of just enjoying.
But I needed to overthink because my entire future was in this man’s hands.
I looked up at him and relaxed as he gazed down at me. I might be a fool, but I didn’t think that a man who looked at a woman the way he was looking at me now would be willing to hurt her.
He shampooed my hair, something I was quickly becoming addicted to, and I soaped up his chest and back as his fingers moved against my scalp.