Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)

by Shey Stahl

  It didn’t take long and I was on my back on the king size bed in the middle of the gigantic bedroom. His kisses were frantic, hands were determined just as they were when he was steering a race car. Only now, he was steering me. Pushing, pulling, and dragging my body against his in all the ways he wanted.

  In between kissing, he whispered against my lips, “Tell me to stop.” I could feel the hesitation in each move he made. It was evident he wanted this but I could tell he held a certain amount of ambiguity.

  He pulled back slightly, his eyes fixed and hooded. “Please,” his voice broke when his breath caught. “Honey...tell me to stop.” Though he was saying this, he didn’t stop. His fingertips ran over my lips searching my eyes for an answer, an answer he didn’t want.

  As I said, we’d been like this before but stopped. Stopping now didn’t seem like an option for either of us. But I also I had a feeling this was his way of making this my decision.

  I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted this just as badly. I always had and now, for the first time, my insecurities surrounding this didn’t matter and I threw myself into it.

  “Don’t,” I mumbled pulling him closer, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “Please don’t stop.”

  He pulled back again, his eyes searching mine and I could see the struggle within as he stilled himself above me, our chests pressed together, moving together with each breath. It was almost as if he was afraid.

  There was no going back, we couldn’t take this back and we both knew that. The second he would enter me, he was claiming my body and that had more implications than either of us could understand right now. Sometimes you think you just want a taste, but is a taste ever enough?

  I honestly believe no one could have just a taste. This went beyond physical attraction. For me, this was bone deep and would never change. With the way I was drawn to Jameson, both frightening and exciting, this couldn’t be just a taste.

  “Sway I...” his voice faded, his eyes opening and flashing with something other than the lust we had both been feeling.

  “I know,” I said softly. I had no fucking idea what I was agreeing to. I just said “I know” but really what did I know? Then I said, “I want you.”

  “I want you too.”

  That pretty much sealed the deal for me right there and soon all thoughts were lost on me when he leaned forward and kissed me.

  “Oh god...it’s been a long time.” He moaned.

  You and me both buddy.

  Jameson broke away for a moment, the clanking of his belt buckle registered, bringing me back to what this was as he pulled his jeans and underwear down and then returned to the bed, pressing his warm naked body against mine.

  It was right about then that I realized I was completely naked as well. Took me long enough to realize that—I’d only been that way for the last ten minutes.

  I couldn’t see very well, the only light was coming from the bathroom down the hall, but I could see enough to know I was in trouble.

  Growing up, I always knew the Riley boys were well endowed but this...I may just require medical attention after this. I may have even gasped at this thought but I couldn’t be sure with all the noises he was making. We were both being very focal.

  Settling between my legs, his lips grazed over my bare nipples. Slowly, he drew my left nipple into his mouth and sucked gently and then let his teeth graze it before pulling back, repeating the process with my other nipple.

  I was dying...a slow agonizing death, wrapped in his warm steel embrace.

  Suddenly he jerked back looking at me, his brow scrunched together. “Are you okay...I mean...are you sure, Sway? We’ve never...” a shaky hand rose to run threw his mess of hair.

  Is he nervous? Why is he shaking so badly?

  I nodded, my cheeks blazing like the fiery sun. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was nervous at the way he was shaking. But I knew Jameson well enough that he was never nervous, why would right now be any different?

  When his eyes met mine again, he looked worried. “Are you sure? We’ve never discussed...friends with benefits before.”

  Friends with benefits? Could I do friends with benefits?

  If it meant other women were nowhere near him, then yes, I could do this. If it meant that by some slim chance he would realize he had feelings for me too, then yes, I could do this.

  I nodded again; Jameson flashed a soft smile leaning over the side of the bed for a condom in his wallet.

  The hesitation returned for a brief moment before his eyes found mine again. With his body pressed tightly to mine, you couldn’t hide much of anything. I could feel him against my thigh and knew he could feel the funbags against his chest. Why I was thinking of our body parts pressed together was a strange thought but that’s what I was thinking.

  Knowing this was about to happen, I swallowed slowly feeling the rapid beating of our hearts and trying not to focus on pressing body parts and more on the actual boring about to take place.

  Then, with a slow lazy kiss, our bodies joined. He pushed forward gradually with a growl that sent shivers and goose bumps all over me, his body trembling intensely as he did so.

  I can’t believe we are actually doing this! We are actually having sex! He’s not pushing me away, he’s pulling me against him and his camshaft is inside me!

  The feeling I got when Jameson entered me was amazing, sappy even. I felt whole...my crankcase was meant to house his camshaft, engineered for each other.

  He gasped and I let out a shuddering gaspy breath against his lips as my bearings adjusted to him.

  “Are you all right?” his voice hindered by his harsh breathing. “Should I...stop?”

  I couldn’t form the words so I simply shook my head against his shoulder placing a kiss into his neck and pushed my hips up letting him know I didn’t want him to stop. My hands moved over the breadth of his hard shoulders urging him on.

  Now I’ve had sex before with a few different people but Jameson quickly put them to shame when he had me screaming like a porn star within two minutes.

  His hips moved languidly for a while, his hands curling under and over my shoulders to pull me into him, holding me tightly to his body. So tightly, it felt as if his life depended on it.

  Intensity and impatience marked everything from his movements to his kisses. Holding my hands above my head against the pillow, his head dipped down to whisper in my ear. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

  Say what?

  All I could do was moan loudly and then he reached down hitching my leg further up his hip.

  “You like that?” he grunted against my shoulder, most of his weight shifted to rest against his arm that was bent near my head supporting him.

  “Yes, harder.”

  Jesus, you sound ridiculous.

  Jameson chuckled breathlessly. “Honey...that I can do,” He growled in my ear fisting his hands through my hair, tugging gently before he flipped us over so I was on top of him. “You like dirty talking...don’t you?”

  I became undone completely with everything, all around me. It was his voice, so low and vibrating that I could feel it pulsing throughout my entire body, every nerve ending reaching out to him. It was his touch, one that I knew so well, firm yet soft and focused.

  It really was everything and so much more than I ever thought possible. So many times, I wondered what this would be like and now it was happening.

  “Yeah,” I moaned eventually to his dirty question because I really did enjoy the dirty talking. You could tell me how to change spark plugs and I was quivering mess.

  Right about that point, I began to sound as if I was auditioning for a Ron Jeremy movie. I was ashamed at how vocal I’d become.

  “I can tell you like car talk too...” He whispered in that low gravelly voice he had from time to time. I moaned again when his lips found the sensitive skin on my neck rough with need. His teeth drug over the path he’d just made. “Proper amount of lubrication makes
inserting the camshaft easier, you know?”

  My response was to moan. I seemed to be doing a lot of that.

  Our dirty talking quickly turned to “Do you need a good spanking?” which I enjoyed but when it turned to “Who’s your daddy?” I slapped him across the face and told him to shut the hell up and just fuck me.

  And he did. Oh god did he.

  He had my body bending in directions I never thought were possible without needing an MRI the next day.

  He also, to his utter amusement, had me screaming at the top of lungs at times, and a few instances where I was sure I saw twinkling stars.

  Wanting to see just how worked up I could get him, I did everything I could to drive him just as insane.

  My theory that he too was losing control was confirmed when his head fell back against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head resisting. “Ah honey, slow down...please slow down.” He moaned.

  I was grinning like a fool.

  He was also very thorough too, I’ll give him that. I swear he covered every inch of my 5-2 frame with kisses or nips and the occasional pinch or lick.

  What wasn’t that comforting was his attention while my ass was in the air with him between my legs behind me.

  For one, I’m sure about the rest of society but for me personally, my ass in the air wasn’t really a comforting position, unless you’re a dog. Let’s face it; your asshole is public knowledge when you walk around on all fours like an animal.

  And for me personally, I’m not that comfortable with my ass in the air or my asshole. I’m just not when the person behind me was Jameson Riley.

  Thoughts of my asshole in the air didn’t last long and soon I drifted completely with the kissing, the sucking, the pinching, it was all almost too much.

  Where’d this boy learn all this and why had I waited so long to indulge? That’s what I wanted to know.

  We were molded together—you couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. But when he sucked down on my nipple once more, I couldn’t hold off.

  Thrashing around beneath him with total futility, his hands held me in place tightly against him and mattress. With a tingling that started in my toes and settled in my tummy, I literally screamed Jameson’s name loud enough for the entire hotel to hear.

  Forget the porno audition.

  Apparently, I was now trying out for the opera.

  Jameson chuckled against me, my breathing turned to something resembling a woman in child labor or an animal in heat. It’d been way to long since I had sex that’s for sure.

  I soon realized Jameson was past the point of stopping or being able to go slow as his breathing was turning from heavy to panting gasps—grunting with each movement. My head hit the headboard with each thrust while his hands moved from my hips to the pillow behind my head, grasping it tightly as he prepared himself.

  I wanted to stop time, slow this down and make it last forever but I knew I couldn’t. After waiting for so long for this, it seemed to be fleeting quickly. I kept thinking I was dreaming until he would move or say something, his voice bringing me back, and I realized it was happening.

  “Oh god Sway,” he grunted, his body trembling for control, I knew the feeling. “shit...I’m sorry...can’t hold on any longer...” his head fell against my shoulder his teeth sinking into my skin as he threw himself into his movements. “Fuck,” he cried out.

  My legs wrapped around his waist and I held onto him anywhere I could, desperate to make this last longer.

  He gasped, his body jerking, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as his forehead rested against mine.

  A few thoughts ran through my mind at that point. The first was, at least he didn’t squeal like a pig, Mike Tanner, a past fuck did and I was very alarmed by that. And secondly, hot damn we just had sex.

  Collapsing on top of me, his head turned to the side, his ear pressed against my racing heart. We laid there, breathing as if we just ran a marathon, which we kind of did, when Jameson rolled moving the sheets over us.

  Once he pulled out, I felt as though a cold breeze blew over me at the lack of contact between us. He surprised me though. He didn’t go far, just slid to the side and tugged my body against his trailing kisses across my shoulder.

  He cuddles after sex?

  If possible, I think I just fell further in love with him.

  After a couple minutes, I felt him smile pressing a kiss into my hair. “Why were we not doing that from the beginning?”

  “You’re so weird.” Tossing my arms over my face attempting to mask my embarrassment and any chance at crying, I shook my head. “Because, we were eleven you pervert.”

  He just chuckled but said nothing more.

  Moments passed and the surge of adrenaline mixed with anxiety and fear overwhelmed me. Suddenly I felt sick as tears threatened again. I wouldn’t cry though, I wouldn’t let myself. If anything, I’d blame it on allergies or something just as ridiculous.

  Would he regret this in the morning? Was all my brain focused on.

  Moments passed where we remained, the fear embedded further with no relief.

  From the morning light coming in through the cracks in the curtains, I could vaguely make out his expression.

  Lying on his back, arms contently resting on his stomach, I steadied his sedated breathing. His left hand rose to run through his hair.

  What really caught my attention was the intensity marking his gaze. His eyes were open staring at the ceiling, the restlessness returned, as did that vulnerability. I couldn’t stop my mind from convincing me he’d regret it. Maybe that’s why he wanted me to tell him to stop.

  Once Jameson was asleep, I couldn’t take just laying there as the gnawing anxiety got the best of me. Turning over, I took in his softened features. With his unkempt rusty hair, the freckles on his nose, he reminded me so much of the boy I fell in love with amongst the methanol and clay of the Northwest.

  Who was I kidding, he was still that boy. Jameson hadn’t changed and I knew that. And knowing that, I shouldn’t have been so worried he’d regret this because the boy I fell in love with wouldn’t. He was still my best friend above all else and sleeping together wouldn’t change that.

  Or would it?

  Here I go again.

  The haze of intoxication was starting to lift; reality was setting in.

  Feeling sick again, I decided to get some water or run away, one of the two was a good idea.

  You’d think his room would have water since it had everything else but nope, just alcohol. No surprise there though.

  I threw on Jameson’s shirt from last night and stepped out the door, tentatively. I glanced outside but no one seemed to be around.

  Half-naked, hair all over the place, I made my way down the long hallway of the Omni Hotel and Resort in search of water.

  When I rounded the corner, I ran right into Emma.

  No, scratch that—I fell over Emma because for god knows what reason, she was on her knees in front of the vending machine.

  “What the hell, Emma?” I grunted pealing myself from the tile floor, slipping on ice cubes that were scattered everywhere.

  Emma started picking up the ice chips frantically and dropping them in a bucket. “What does it look like? I was getting ice and water.”

  She looked over me once, scrutinizing my appearance and then shook her head. “Where are your clothes?”

  “Where are yours?” I challenged. Emma wasn’t wearing much more than me with Aiden’s t-shirt and cowboy hat. “Nice hat.” I added.

  She smiled again and looked more closely at my collarbone that was sporting a purple bite mark from Jameson. “Did you...oh god, Sway, you didn’t?”

  “Shut up.” I snapped and shoved her against the vending machine. “You have no room to talk. Whose saddle were you just in?”

  “Saddle?” Emma glared but appeared nervous. “Don’t tell Jameson about me and Aiden.”

  “Don’t tell Alley about me and Jameson then.” I countered letting g
o of her.

  “Deal,” we shook hands.

  “Well, was it what you hoped for?” Emma asked as we made our way back down the hall to our rooms. “I heard you. You sounded like a damn hyena in there.” She added laughing hysterically.

  I pushed her again, knocking her and her ice chips against some innocent quests door. “I hate you. I really do.”

  When I made it back inside the room, Jameson cuddled against my back. I thought he was sleeping but his breathing hitched when I kissed his arm that he’d placed around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

  “Have you ever thought about this before?” he asked. His voice was out of breath and low but smooth as it always was.

  “Thought about...?” I tried to be vague as though I didn’t know what he was asking, even if I did.

  “This...” his answer was just as vague. His arms flexed around me and he kissed my shoulder once, his lips warm.

  “Yes and no,” I told him honestly, because right now, I couldn’t tell him how I really felt.

  For someone who never ran from anything and spoke her mind frequently, I couldn’t tell him that this was all I’ve thought about for the past four years. The words just wouldn’t form.

  In his arms that morning, I knew then that nothing would ever be the same between us. This wasn’t something where two people just casually slept together.

  It couldn’t be.

  Not with the thirst I had.

  4. Happy Hour – Sway

  Happy Hour – Slang term for last official practice session held before an event. Usually takes place the day before the race and after all qualifying and support races have been staged.

  I was dead.

  That’s all there was to it. Surely, there’s no way someone could feel this badly, and still be alive. My throat felt like the Mohave Desert. My head felt like someone hit it with a baseball bat and my body felt like jelly.

  I laid there for a good ten minutes, wondering if I truly was dead. Stretching, I intended to get up, when my arm bumped something causing me to jump.