Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)

by Shey Stahl

We both burst into laughter, as did the rest of the crew working on the car. Emma was laughing so hard there were tears streaming down her face while she pointed at Jameson and laughed louder holding her stomach.

  “Fuck all of you!” he shouted, slamming the door to the hauler.

  Emma leaned closer to me. “The best part was she stole a pair of his underwear when she was in there.” She burst into laughter yet again.

  None of us saw Jameson again until it was his turn to qualify.

  Kyle went inside to let him know and then went down to the garage, leaving me the only one there at the hauler.

  I wasn’t sure what he did in there for two hours but his hair in complete disarray when he emerged, appearing to have taken a nap. He walked over to me and sat down in the chair Emma had been sitting in to tie his shoes.

  “I thought you would have come in there.” His voice was thick from sleep.

  “I thought you could use a nap and I was spending some time with Emma. She left to go get some dinner with Aiden.”

  Jameson accepted them being together but it didn’t mean he liked it by the look on his face.

  “So you chose my sister over me?”

  “You were being mean,”

  “Was not,” He argued.

  “Oh, sorry, you were being such a sweet guy.” I teased with a smile, rubbing his shoulder.

  “That’s better. Now,” he picked me up from my chair and set me on his lap. “I have to go qualify but after that...” the tip of his nose swept along my neck sending tingles down my legs. “I’d like to take you somewhere.” He nuzzled me more, his face scratchy. His other hand slipped up the back of my shirt and traced circles over my bare skin.

  “I have to check my schedule.”

  Jameson leaned back giving me a warning look. “His determined benefits, remember?” he arched an eyebrow.

  “Wow, I don’t even know what to say to that.”

  “Don’t say anything, just go with me,” he didn’t give me a chance to respond before he was dragging me with him towards pit lane again.

  Qualifying went better than practice. Jameson was surprised to find the back-up car was better than the primary car and ended up qualifying fourth for Sunday’s race.

  After taking a quick shower and putting on some shorts, we made our way towards town.

  Jameson refused to tell me where he was taking me. I asked if I needed to change out of my jean shorts and flip-flops, but he assured me I was dressed accordingly.

  “Where are we going now?” I asked sometime after we picked up Chinese to go and got back in the truck.

  He leaned his head back against the seat and slowly looked over at me with a grin. “Somewhere alone. Somewhere that I can have my way with you and not worry about someone walking in on us. Somewhere that I don’t have to worry about breaking furniture or...sticker burns.”

  “That only leaves this truck and the middle of nowhere.”

  “Exactly,” He nodded gesturing to the blankets he grabbed before we left.

  “So we’re going to hump in the woods and eat Chinese food.”

  “No,” he grinned. “we are going to hump and then eat Chinese food. We’re not doing it at the same time. I think there’s some kind of health code against that.”

  I laughed, shaking my head at him.

  Soon we found ourselves in a wooded area where there was a clearing and a beautiful view of Long Pond.

  “This is amazing.” I told him climbing into the back of the truck.

  Jameson had already laid out the blankets. “I came out here the last year when I was racing in the Busch series.” He told me pulling me onto his lap where he sat on the tailgate, the faint sounds of Wicked Game hummed over the stereo.

  “Really,” I gave a sidelong gaze toward Jameson. “who was the lucky girl?”

  He let out a soft chuckle against my shoulder he was kissing. “I told you, I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. I came out here by myself. In fact, I actually spent the night texting you from this exact location.”

  I couldn’t say anything to that.

  What would I say?

  He didn’t give me a chance to think about it before he turned me around so I was straddling his hips, my legs wrapped around his waist. His lips skimmed along my collarbone and then back again before he removed my tank top as the song continued.

  How could one song fit our situation so perfectly?

  I was stumbling through this, falling deeper in love with this man, yet he remained clueless.

  He honestly had no clue how madly in love I was, or did he? I had no idea how he felt, his guarded expressions left nothing.

  “You’re so beautiful honey.” He whispered before leaning in for the most passionate kiss I think I’d ever had.

  When he pulled back to look at me his expression changed, softened even. His mouth opened as though he wanted to say something but he didn’t, he just stared back at me with his hand rested against my cheek.

  I wanted to say so much in that moment, it seemed fitting.

  I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and how much I’ve always loved him but just like him, I didn’t say anything, I just gazed back at him. I could feel myself nearing tears so I leaned in kissing him again, and then removed his shirt.

  Jameson lied back against the bed of the truck closing his eyes. I skimmed my fingers across the muscles in his chest, down the ripples in his stomach to the sharp lines of his hips.

  Rocking my hips against him once, the friction of our clothing caused him to moan and grab my hips securely with his hands, moving me the way he wanted.

  I took everything he gave me that night, knowing I was falling deeper and deeper into whatever this was between us but I also couldn’t make myself care.

  This was fun, this was exciting, and this was us.

  Everything with Jameson and me was always so simple and easy that I couldn’t think of a reason why this couldn’t be too.

  There was a change occurring, I knew that but I lived for the moment and enjoyable the simplicity of the undefined.

  I knew the nagging feeling was a cast of what was to come but I couldn’t for the life of me stop.

  7. Air Pressure – Sway

  Air Pressure – Mechanics can adjust a car’s handling by raising or lowering air pressure in the tires. Flex in the sidewall of a tire acts like another spring in the suspension. Increasing the air pressure makes the overall spring rate higher, while lowering the pressure will make it softer. This adjustment can be made much more quickly and easily than changing a spring or a shock.

  The next morning, standing there staring at myself in a full length mirror was a sight to see. My hair resembled Rob Zombie’s—I had no idea how I was going to get those knots out. Seriously, it was some sort of cross between the frolic in the sheets and dreads. Nothing about it as sexy though.

  My body actually had bruises on my upper arms, hipbones and my ass. I couldn’t remember a point when his grasp on me was too tight but it must have been, judging by the bruises.

  Jesus, you’ve been manhandled.

  Eh, I’m complaining, it was a good time, bruises or not.

  I tried to remember how many times we’d bumped uglies in the past few days but I honestly couldn’t tell you.

  It wasn’t really important to me so I shrugged to myself and stepped inside the shower. It felt so good to finally take a hot shower.

  Rolling my sore neck around, the jets soaked blissfully over back. I was incredibly tender and aching everywhere from sleeping in the back of a pick-up truck last night, not that we really slept but I was still uncomfortable. Not only would I require a therapist when these three weeks were up, but a massage therapist was beginning to pull rank as well.

  Besides being small, his bathroom was luxurious. It had everything you would need and then some with the cream tile floors, black granite counters, glass shower door and mirrors everywhere. It’s nicer than most people’s homes—including mine. Not that I have a hom
e of my own, I still lived with Charlie but this was way nicer than Charlie’s house and a fucking mansion compared to that dorm I lived in.

  Once I stepped out of the shower, I heard some commotion outside so I opened the door thinking Jameson had returned from the drivers meeting and could hand me a towel since I forgot.

  Without thinking, I stepped outside completely naked. “Jameson, can you hand me a towel...” My voice trailed off when I ran into him. “Oh, hey, is there a towel over there?” I asked but when my eyes met his, they weren’t his.

  “OH MY GOD!” I screamed but Spencer screaming like a four-year old girl and covering his eyes silenced my screams.

  “I thought it was Jameson in here, not you!” He cried out tossing a towel my direction.

  “Jesus Christ Spencer,” I wailed just as loud trying to cover myself with my hands. It would have worked if I had three hands, but I didn’t. “You didn’t think to knock?”

  “What the fuck is going on in here?” Jameson asked from behind Spencer, his voice a blistering snarl as he stepped inside the motor coach, slamming the metal door. I never heard the door open but how could I with the volume of Spencer’s screams?

  Now let me take a moment here to really explain how this would look to Jameson.

  I was standing next to the bathroom door, completely naked with my girly bits on display because when Spencer threw the towel, he was so freaked out that I wasn’t Jameson, he didn’t even throw it remotely close to me.

  In fact, the towel was on my ceiling fan whipping around the room—and I say “my ceiling fan” because this particular ceiling fan, had housed a few of my undergarments in the past few days.

  Spencer was now gaping between Jameson and me. Jameson, who was not even remotely amused, looked as though he was going to have a heart attack any second. Body shaking, fisted hands, he was a little worked up over this.

  He might possibly kill Spencer.

  “I...I...um...shit.” Spencer stammered staring at me. “I thought it was you in here.” He backed away holding his hands over his eyes. “I’m so sorry dude.”

  I will give Spencer credit, he really was trying not to look, but his hands kept coming away from his eyes so he can take a better look. He’s a man, you can’t blame him really.

  I wanted to giggle, that’s how inappropriate this whole situation was but I decided that wouldn’t be best given how worked up Jameson appeared.

  “Spencer,” Jameson growled slowly. “Get the fuck out now!”

  I flinched at his furious tone.

  Poor Spencer all but ran out of there but before he got to the door, he reached for his hat, the whole purpose of him coming in here, but the hat was next to me. Naturally, Spencer looked at Jameson and back to me, wondering if he should just leave the hat.

  “Spencer—GET OUT!” Jameson roared.

  I swear the entire racetrack could have heard him, I actually covered my ears—it was that loud.

  In the entire time I’ve known Spencer; I have never seen him scared of Jameson, or anyone. Right now, he honestly looked terrified of him.

  Once the door shut, Jameson reached for the towel on the ceiling fan and threw it my direction. “You might want to check who it is before you come out of the bathroom, naked. There’s no privacy around here.” His voice was low and bleak but less furious. His eyes flickered to mine and then away. A moment later, his expression softened. “Please put some clothes on.” He ordered walking out the door.

  Well, that was interesting.

  I know he had to get to driver introductions but seriously...I was naked. How can we not take advantage of that?

  Oh, relax Sway. You just had sex less than four hours ago. It won’t kill you.

  Just as I turned around, the door flew open and Jameson stormed back in, locked the door, and started ripping his clothes off, stumbling around as he tried to rid them quickly.

  When he got the majority ripped away, he stood there in front of me, breathing heavy. His eyes a dark jade color that smoldered with hunger. Reaching for the hem of his shirt, he pulled it over his head roughly, throwing it against the wall.

  I didn’t know what to do or say, so I just stood there watching.

  Standing before me, naked, he finally spoke. “I couldn’t just leave you in here, naked,” was his only response before he carried me towards the bedroom.

  “I only have a few minutes.” He grunted pushing me up against the mirrored wall.

  Facing the mirror, the funbags smashed against it, made them appear larger. For someone who was barely a B-cup, this was a good thing.

  “If you only have a few minutes, then you better stop looking at the funbags and fuck me.”

  His eyes narrowed at me and he winked. “Hold on tight then, honey.” And then he flipped me around so my ass was pressed against the mirror and in the next second, he was sliding into me with a low fierce growl that actually gave me goose bumps.

  The nice thing about a luxury Featherlite motor coach was the mirrors. Now, with my back to the one mirror, I had a perfect vista view of Jameson’s ass with my legs wrapped around his waist. If that wasn’t a pit lizards dream, I don’t know what is.

  This was another picture I wouldn’t mind framing on the ceiling of my bedroom.

  Jameson’s hands gripped my ass, using the mirror to keep me firmly in place.

  Never in my life had I ever thought a quickie would be considered one of the best sexual encounters I’d ever had, but this, was definitely in the top five now.

  Jesus Christ, look at that ass, hard, round, muscular...perfect.

  I think I actually whimpered at that point watching his ass flex with each thrust brazenly.

  “I’m sorry...I’m...” his thick gruff voice trailed off while he tried to reach between us.

  I knew what he was trying to do.

  Capturing his hand with my own, I placed it back on my ass. “Only you,” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I brought his mouth to mine.

  That’s all the encouragement he needed. He threw his head back and it was glorious, probably one of the best five minutes of my entire life.

  Afterwards, Jameson stayed there for a moment panting and kissing my lips, jaw, neck, and then my shoulders. “That was—”

  “Amazing,” I finished for him.

  “I’ll say.” He smirked. “That wasn’t very good for you though.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He looked surprised. “Huh?”

  “That was hot!” I clarified pointing to the mirror behind him.

  He glanced over his shoulder and then shook his head in amusement. “I feel...like I should charge you for that now.”

  “I feel like I should pay you for it.” I agreed and we both started laughing.

  I looked around for my underwear while Jameson put his clothes back on. I found them on the nightstand but again, they were ripped.

  “Jameson,” I held up the shredded underwear. “Stop doing this. I don’t have any more underwear here.”

  He chuckled putting his Simplex hat on. “Ah...it looks like Emma needs to take you shopping.”

  “I hate you for doing that to me.” I grumbled in frustration.

  The last thing I wanted to do was go shopping with Emma. I loved her but not enough to go anywhere near a department store, of any kind, with her.

  “You don’t hate me,” He pulled me against his chest, his breathing still uneven. “I just gave you a free show.”

  “Whatever.” I sulked pulling away to put my jeans on without underwear.

  Jameson watched me closely. “You’re seriously out of underwear?”

  “Yes you asshole!” I held up the pieces of the black pair from last night. “These were the last pair since you ripped the other ten pairs I brought.”

  “You can’t go commando.” He stated firmly, as though it wasn’t an option.

  “What the hell do you expect me to do?”

  His fingers raked through his hair. “I don’t know.” He t
hrew his arms up. “I won’t be able to concentrate if I know you have no underwear on. Put something on.”

  I was silent for a moment trying to think. “Fine, leave and then you won’t know if I put some on or not.”

  He shook his head violently. “No, no, no,” he quickly disagreed. “That makes it worse. Then I’ll spend the entire race wondering if you’re wearing any or not. You have to put something on.”

  “My god Jameson,” I yelled and stomped over to his dresser to pull out a pair of his boxer briefs and slid them on. “Happy now?”

  “Immensely,”

  We left the motor coach after that, Jameson immensely happy, and me sporting his underwear.

  As with any race weekend, the time just wasn’t there and soon race activities were in full swing.

  “Jameson, what do you think your chances are here for a win?” A reporter with SPEED asked him as we stood alongside his car prior the start of the race.

  “I think we have a shot at it but it’s hard to say. I didn’t get a lot of practice time in this car since we crashed in practice yesterday. This Simplex Ford ran great in happy hour though. I think we could easily pull off a top five today.” Jameson answered mechanically continuing to sign autographs for the swarm of fans huddled around his car on the grid.

  I couldn’t believe how many people were gathered around his car compared to the other drivers, yeah most of them were under twenty-five and female, but Christ almighty this boy was popular.

  You could barely move an inch without bumping into someone. I almost felt out of place, like I should have been asking for his autograph but really, he gave me something better not more than an hour ago.

  Jameson rarely looked up, just signed autograph after autograph.

  I wonder if his hand ever got tired? I know something that never gets tired.

  The thought had me giggling next to him. With his head still down, his eyes darted over at me to see what I was giggling about.

  Quickly, I looked away like I wasn’t doing anything so he went back to signing his autographs.

  One brave garage groupie was standing considerably closer than the rest and kept glancing at the way Jameson and I are standing together, I assumed. Either that or there was actually something wrong with her, no one stares that much.