Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)

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Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) Page 33

by Shey Stahl


  “I don’t want to screw this up.” I suddenly blurted out running my fingers through her dark hair.

  “What?” Sway twisted in my arms to loop up at me.

  Tracing my fingertips lightly up her shoulder, and then over her collarbone I told her my fears. “This...you...us...I don’t want to screw it up.”

  “Okay, so don’t.” she ventured kissing my lips.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing.” I hinted crushing her against my chest. “I’m not sure how good I’ll be at this.”

  She giggled when I crushed her against my chest.

  “What’s going on with you?” she soothed running her hands up and down my spine, her gentle touch was relaxing but not enough.

  “Sway...Jesus...how do I say this without sounding like goddamn Hallmark card?” I mumbled into her shoulder.

  It took her a moment but she giggled snapping out of my trance.

  “Okay...Hallmark be damned.” I sat her up to face me, my hands moved to her face. “I’ve never been in love before. I don’t know how to be a boyfriend and have a career at the same time.” I paused looking at her nervous expression. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “You’ve never been in love? What about—” she began.

  I shook my head quickly, interrupting her. “I didn’t know what love was back then...I was seventeen. But looking back at it now, no, it wasn’t love at all, not even close. Chelsea, all those other women, they didn’t mean anything to me.”

  She was looking at me so earnestly that I fell in love with her that much more.

  “So...” I continued with a smirk. “I have no clue what I’m doing but I’m willing to try for you. I may stumble along the way but I want to do that with you...as your boyfriend.”

  “Does this mean we’re going steady?” Sway asked between giggles.

  I laughed freely. “I think it does, Joanie.”

  “Kiss me, Chachi.”

  14. Fresh Rubber – Sway

  Fresh Rubber – A new set of tires acquired at a pit stop.

  I woke up to the soft sounds of Jameson playing his piano. I hadn’t heard him play in years, at first I thought I was dreaming. Propping myself up on my elbows, I looked towards the piano situated in the far right corner of his massive gray bedroom.

  I had to laugh at his décor. Everything in the room was white, gray, or black.

  Total man pad.

  He even had an intake manifold in the corner of his room.

  When my eyes found him, I sighed contently reminded of how happy I was that this dirty heathen was my Chachi.

  And my Chachi was currently serenading me.

  His head bowed as if in submission to what he was doing, his long masculine fingers gliding over the ivory keys. I was entranced by how he moved on the bench, his head bent barely looking up. It was a beautiful combination with dulcet tones of the piano.

  He’d memorized this song over the years; it was one of his favorites.

  There are no words to describe how Jameson played, I envied his talent, his eyes closed and it was easy to see how much passion he had for playing just as he did for racing. I could feel it in my bones.

  After a few moments, he began singing in that low rich voice.

  His fingers picked up pace when the song went into a climb, his head leaned back belting out the lyrics, and I could feel my eyes stinging with tears.

  Listening to the words, I could tell why he chose this particular song.

  He was telling me he was scared but ready.

  Jameson played the chorus for a good ten minutes while I observed in awe that someone could have that much natural talent in everything he did.

  When he began to sing again, his voice was lower than before, almost a whisper drawing me in. When he finished, his head hung and he just sat there running his fingers gently over the keys. His hands stilled on the keys, a discordant cadence echoing in the room.

  Without wearing a damn thing, I strutted my no longer pit lizard bare ass over to him to show him a thing or two about talent.

  I wonder what I would call myself now since I couldn’t really be considered his pit lizard. Clearly, I was way more now.

  Pit lizard girlfriend...Joanie girlfriend...pigizzle...ha ha ha...good one Sway.

  You’re now a pigizzle. I told myself.

  Jameson’s head remained down but when he heard me giggle at my pigizzle-self, I saw the corner of his mouth twist into a smile. Placing both my hands on his bare shoulders, I ran my fingers softly over the ridges in his defined shoulders, feeling his muscles flex as his hands caressed my legs.

  Turning on the bench, he looked up at me through his long dark lashes, his green eyes burning. It wasn’t hard to see the change that occurred in us, in him. His once nervous eyes; were now filled with love and adoration.

  He loved me you see.

  “Good morning beautiful,” Jameson whispered against my stomach, trailing kisses from the prominent ridge of my hip, over my belly button and along the other hipbone. Sweeping his tongue up towards my rib cage, he nipped at the skin as he did so.

  My entire body trembled despite my demand for it not to, earning a chuckle from him in response. I hated the way my body was so responsive to him; I couldn’t hide anything.

  With a wink, he picked me up carrying me over to his large king sized bed, lying me down. He pulled away but only to remove his shorts and he was back to worshiping my body, with his hands, his mouth, his tongue, and of course...his glorious camshaft. There was no dirty heathen talking last night but it returned this morning...ohhh did it return.

  What started out sweet and caring; quickly turned sullied in minutes when I told him that this sweet side was great and all, but I wanted my dirty car-talking heathen damn it. More importantly, I wanted to be fucked.

  You ask and you shall receive.

  With another wicked smirk, he flipped me over so I was on my knees in front of him and wrapped his hand around my hair, gently pulling me back against his chest.

  “Jameson...” I moaned as he pushed inside.

  He took a firm grasp on my hip with the hand that wasn’t tangled in my hair bringing his soft wet lips down on my shoulder, biting and kissing his way along the top of my collarbone.

  The teasing and biting continued for a few moments but when I was starting to shake, I had to put an end to it. I needed this and I needed it now.

  The moment I felt him inside of me, I wanted time to stop, to stay with him that way forever. The feeling was indescribable and the more he gave me, the more I craved. I knew being him physically would be unlike anything we’d ever experienced together but now, it was so much more than before. His intensity was evident in every kiss, every touch, showing me this was different, showing me the love he had for me.

  “Just fuck me already!” I blurted out when he continued with his slow movements.

  “Are you ready for some align boring ‘cause I’m not holdin’ back any longer. These bearings need aligned, properly.” Jameson grunted, his hips meeting mine slowly at first but I could feel a change coming.

  “What does no holding back mean?” I asked slightly confused. I never thought Jameson held back anyways.

  What would this mean?

  In my head, I was envisioning whips and chains or some shit so I turned to look back at him with wide eyes. I’m all for the dirty talking and rough sex but I was slightly terrified of any S & M. I once watched a porno that involved this and couldn’t sleep for a week thinking that shit was something only serial killers did.

  “What I mean is...” he squeezed my ass. “...there are times when I’m going to make love to you...slowly and with more passion then you ever thought imaginable.” Jameson then moved my hair to the side kissing along my neck slowly. His hand tangled in my hair once more and tugged with just enough force to make want to scream. “And there are times when I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

  Why am I suddenly excited as hell to see which one I’m getting today?r />
  Of course, my excitement must have shown on my face because Jameson suddenly chuckled, his laugh marred by his heavy breathing.

  “Which service are you offering up today?” I arched my back against him, keeping my eyes locked with his.

  Jameson smirked. His eyes were half-opened watching me. His gaze darkened, burning my skin as it ran over my body. “Guess which one...” he ground out through his clenched jaw as I swiveled my hips against him, causing him to moan.

  The dirty talking tapered as did any talking for that matter. Jameson’s third floor bedroom was filled with nothing but his grunts, my whore moaning, and sounds of Prince in the background.

  We were starting to have an obsession with Prince.

  A few minutes passed where we just lied there afterwards, until his phone started buzzing next to the bed.

  He leaned forward, kissed my forehead, and then reached over me to his phone. “I’m sorry, I have to get up. I need to be in LA later today for a commercial for Simplex and then I have to fly to Memphis to meet...my biggest fan.”

  I looked at him confused. He sat up running his hand through his mess of hair peeking back at me.

  “Your biggest fan?” The dread in my voice present, I was praying this wasn’t some woman.

  “Uh...yeah...he’s a five-year old little boy who has leukemia.” He told me. “He’s being treated at St. Jude’s in Memphis and I was his wish.”

  “His wish?”

  His eyes dropped to his lap and his hand ran across the back of his neck. “Well he has leukemia and well he’s dying from it and his wish was to meet me. He wanted to be a race car driver when he grew up. St. Jude Children’s Hospital got in touch with Melissa and asked if I could come out to spend the day with him.”

  I didn’t realize I was crying until Jameson brushed the tears away. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He whispered turning me slowly in his arms and linking his hands behind my back. I shrugged slightly, staring at his chest and tracing the light dusting of hair he had there.

  Gently he tugged on my waist and my eyes rose to meet his, sighing when I saw his eyebrows rise in question.

  “No, it’s okay...I just...there’s always so much sadness around, you know? I just hate that there are children out there that can’t even live to see their dreams come true or fall in love.” I said softly, my arms sliding around his neck, bringing his lips to meet mine, he responded and kissed me softly.

  “I know what you mean, honey.” He cradled me against his chest. “I know what you mean.”

  I was about to get up when he stopped me, tugging on my hand.

  “You could come with me, if you want.” He suggested. “I’m sure Axle won’t mind.”

  “His name is Axle?” I smiled thinking how perfect of a name that was for a little guy who loved racing.

  Jameson chuckled. “Yeah, it’s cute. He wanted to be a race car driver...it fits, huh?”

  “It does.” Sitting on the edge of his bed, I nodded. “I don’t think I’m going to go.”

  “But you—”

  “No, his wish was to spend the day with you.” I shook my head in reassurance. “That’s what he deserves.”

  “Thanks Sway, for everything.” His eyes held mine intently. “For coming yesterday, for last night and this morning...just...thank you. I wish I could tell you how much it meant to me but I don’t think I could without sounding trite.” He said with so much sincerity, it made me start crying again.

  Jameson left to Los Angeles and then Memphis so Emma and I flew back to Washington. Emma hadn’t been home to Washington since last winter so she enthused as hell to come along. Though I’d never admit this, I was excited to spend some girl time with her.

  Alley was going to come along as well but Lane ended up getting the flu so she stayed home with him.

  I wanted to be in Daytona this weekend with Jameson for his race, but his schedule was packed that weekend and wouldn’t allow much time for me anyways. So I just decided to fly home when he left to California. It’d also be good for me to see Charlie again and Emma was anxious to see the crazy guy as well.

  The only problem with Emma coming along was entertaining her in Elma Washington. We didn’t have much there to offer a crazy shopaholic. No malls, no fancy department stores, hell, we barely had a grocery store. All of this meant I had to take Emma to the mall before we made it to Elma.

  She insisted on the Tacoma Mall...I’m not sure why anyone would want to go to the Tacoma Mall but alas, there we were walking into every goddamn store they had while she bought shoes, dresses, and god knows what else.

  I had a hard time focusing on anything between Emma whirling around me, texting Jameson, thinking of Jameson, missing Jameson, and wanting to be with Jameson. I didn’t get nearly enough alone time with him that I wanted. I was a pathetic pigizzle.

  The thought of calling myself a pigizzle had me laughing while I enjoyed my iced mocha and followed Emma around, who was once again, trying on another pair of god-awful red boots. Where she would wear those was a mystery to me. But when she said that Aiden had a fantasy with her in red boots I ran away to the pretzel stand.

  Quietly enjoying my buttery salty goodness, Emma came skipping back with another bag from Macy’s and plopped down beside me on the bench.

  “So...I...made us an appointment.” She whispered looking the other direction, avoiding eye contact.

  There’s one thing you need to know about Emma, when she knows you’ll disagree—she avoids eye contact.

  Forcing the little shit to look at me, I grabbed her face. “What kind of appointment Emma?”

  I had to ask because when we were in high school she once made as appointment for us to get our...let’s just say they’re some things even close friends don’t do together, I don’t care how close you are with them. A line needs to be drawn. I now had a line and Emma was sure to step a foot over it any time she saw an opportunity.

  “Justwaxingthatsall,” She said quickly, her words scrambling together in her rush not to reveal.

  “Come again?”

  “Waxing,” Emma replied through squished lips and my firm hold on her.

  “I don’t need any waxing...my bits are nice and trim.”

  “Vajazzling,” she blurted out flinching back like an abused dog.

  “What?”

  “It’s vajazzling...it makes the goods sparkle.”

  “I don’t want the goods to sparkle.”

  Yes you do...admit it...you’re intrigued by this.

  Who wouldn’t want their crankcase to sparkle?

  “Yes you do,” Her eyes bright with excitement; she knew she was wearing me down. She now had a leg over my line. “It’ll be fun.”

  “How does it sparkle?” Now I was avoiding eye contact.

  Why have I never heard of this?

  In my head, I was thinking of flashing lights or some shit like that. The thought of anything electric down there wasn’t comforting—unless of course I had control over it.

  Emma smiled triumphantly. “You’ll see.” Her in expression was something similar to...well...someone who’d just gotten their way.

  Am I going to regret this?

  Yes...it was Emma’s idea, it couldn’t be good.

  “Look at that girls tattoo...” someone snickered behind us as we gathered our bags. “Jesus.”

  Since Jimi and Nancy found out about Emma’s tattoo, she stopped hiding it and rebelled against everyone by showing it proudly.

  In a blink of an eye, Emma grabbed my mocha and chucked it at the teenage girl who snickered at her Trash-R-Us token. She had horrible aim so the cup only went a few feet and fell to the ground, spilling my five-dollar mocha all over the marble floor of the Tacoma Mall.

  “Can you believe the nerve of her?” Emma shouted, not attempting to keep her voice down. “Some people!”

  “Um—” I was about to say something when my phone vibrated.

  It was a text from Jameson that read: Hey beautiful. Missing yo
u right now. Axle says hello and I quote: She’s hot! Chachi

  I laughed and sent one back.

  Hello handsome. Missing you too. Tell Axle thanks, I think. Joanie

  Seemed a little strange that a five-year old would say: “she’s hot”. I had a feeling Jameson may have taught him that, he was never a good influence on children. His idea of helping Spencer potty train Lane at the tracks was allowing him to pee on bushes instead of making it to the bathroom.

  A few minutes later, my phone buzzed again with a media message of the cutest picture ever. Jameson kneeling beside Axle, they both had helmets on but what caught my eye was they both had the biggest grins on their faces. Jameson appeared relaxed and content there with him. Little Axle, with his huge brown eyes, was looking over at him with such veneration it made me start crying, again.

  Thanks for making me cry!

  Soon he replied with: Sorry honey, I didn’t mean to. Axle wanted you to see a picture of him. Gotta go race now, he thinks he can beat me. Love you.

  My curiosity for vajazzeling got the better of me. An hour later Emma and I were laying on table, in separate rooms, getting vajazzled.

  The entire process was strange and rather uncomfortable. Especially when the tiny Asian woman ripped out my beaver pelt and began adhering diamonds on it. When she was finished, vajazzled dazzle lady handed me a mirror to observe her meticulous handy work.

  I wasn’t sure what freaked me out more during the entire process, her wide grin when I’d scream or the fact that my legs were now spread with a mirror between them.

  Instead of worrying about that, I focused on the situation at hand.

  Wow.

  Examining my crankcase, she looked sparkly. She’d been turned into a shiny sparkly smooth vajazzled crankcase, complete with a checkered flag and a number nine.

  Hot damn if I didn’t look good.

  I was tempted to click a picture and text Jameson, but I refrained, he was with children today. Then I thought, I need to reveal this Holy Grail extravagant masterpiece in person, maybe even with fireworks.

  When the tiny Asian left, carefully I put my clothes on. I didn’t want any diamonds to fall out in fear they would...get misplaced. The thought made me cringe of having anything sharp making its way inside my crankcase.

 

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