Fast Lane

by Margot Radcliffe

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cole said, leaning back on the loveseat and putting his feet up. “Now, I feel honor bound to tell you before any of this gets started that I am not an easy fellow in the sheets.”

  “Of course not, I wouldn’t expect you to be a completely different person in bed than you are in life.”

  That comment was rewarded with a huge grin. “Hell, Blair, you’re a treasure.”

  While a joke, it felt like a compliment to Blair, who for one reason or another had been known to be a challenging person herself. She hadn’t grown their wine to worldwide success by being easy, after all. It was probably why she’d accepted so little from the relationships in her life—she’d just been thankful someone found her tolerable.

  His arm came around the back of her seat and it felt like a line had been crossed and there was no going back. The bounds of politeness had been breached. They were touching and she liked it, and yes, her body wanted very much more of it.

  “Where are you going after this?” she asked, bringing things back to the ordinary.

  “Spain,” he said. “Barcelona to be precise.”

  “Do you like announcing?”

  He gazed out into the dark vineyard beyond, the butter-colored dirt standing out in relief against the darker rows of vines. “I like it well enough but not so much that I want to keep traveling to do it much longer. Hence the winery.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a plan,” she said, wondering idly what she’d be doing if she couldn’t make wine and literally coming up with nothing. Could one eat cheese professionally? Seemed improbable. “So I know why you hate racing now, but don’t you miss it a little?”

  Cole’s head shook immediately, but then he blew out an audible breath. “How the hell should I know? I’d never let myself race again regardless, but I do love to drive fast.”

  “I have a car and there are roads on our property no one drives on, you could show me just how fast you are.”

  That arm behind her, resting innocently against her back, curled in as he moved forward and before she could blink, she was being hauled into his lap looking down at his satisfied face. “That’s how fast I am, sweetheart.”

  From her new vantage point, lots of things were suddenly very clear to her. First, he was larger than he looked. Two, straddling him was erotic and he liked it too. And three, there was no stopping this now because her body would revolt if she tried to move. His thighs were thick and strong against hers, his chest was unmoving as her hands pressed against it, and his eyes held hers when she might have looked away.

  “I have an idea,” he said, “to make this fun and so we don’t get too serious and fall in love with each other.”

  Her eyebrow rose. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” Cole huffed another laugh. “Yeah, well, do it for my poor little old heart then, Blair. You’ve nearly got me on my knees for one night with you, who knows what two nights might bring.”

  A good compliment that had her asking, “What’s your proposal then?”

  He met her eyes, a dark brow winging upward in challenge. “A game of truth or dare.”

  Blair, who had been preoccupied with the flex of his thigh muscles under her own and not giving his words too much attention, sat up straight and choked, “Pardon me?”

  “You know,” he said, “like truth or dare. We’ll go back and forth and choose truth or dare until one of us wins.”

  “How do you win truth or dare?”

  Cole’s eyes waggled. “I think we both know how you win this particular game of truth or dare.” At Blair’s groan, his hand came around the back of her neck and drew her gaze down to his. “You win when the other person won’t answer your question or complete your dare.”

  “What’s the prize for winning?” Blair asked, still skeptical and ready for another lewd reference to having sex with him being the prize.

  But to her surprise, he just shrugged. “I promise not to bother you afterward.”

  “A big sacrifice for you, I’m sure.”

  His thumb started caressing the back of her neck and suddenly Blair found it difficult to think. “You never know,” he said, staring at her mouth, “we could fall in love right here on this porch and I’d be unable to ever contact you again. A lost love for the ages.”

  Blair snorted but found herself scooting closer to him, wanting to feel the rest of his body against hers. “I’ll go first,” she declared. “I choose dare.”

  “That’s my girl.” Cole grinned, meeting her eyes again. “As you know I like a daring woman.”

  Blair just stared at him, not condoning his ill-conceived flattery. “The semi-insulting word you used earlier was mouthy,” she reminded.

  He leaned in, his mouth so close to hers, and she waited for the kiss, her body primed and ready to go. Except his lips never fell and instead she heard him whisper, “I dare you to pour me another glass of wine.”

  Blair’s nostrils flared. “You know you’re the worst, right?”

  Cole’s shoulders were shaking in laughter and his hand drifted down her back. “Yeah, I’m well aware. Does your irritation mean you’re refusing to complete the dare?”

  Instead of answering, Blair reached over and opened the additional bottle of wine she’d brought out earlier, poured it and then handed it to him. “I really hope you don’t choke.”

  She’d heard Cole lightly chuckle before and he was always quick with a grin, but when he threw his head back with laughter she grinned too, enjoying the rich sound echo into the night beyond them. They were all alone on her porch with no one around, only the fireflies to see them, and it felt cozy yet also somehow illicit to be outside about to do who knows what in the outdoors.

  Sobering slowly, he took a drink of the wine, making a big deal to swallow without incident and when he was finished, she said patronizingly, “Good job.”

  He was still grinning when he said, “Your turn. I choose dare.”

  It would be sweet justice to torture him the way he’d done to her and it was all part of the game anyway, the anticipation, the one-upmanship. “I dare you to take your clothes off and run down one of the rows of grapes out there.” Then she added out of consideration for his safety, “You can keep your shoes on.”

  He met her eyes, his green ones dark in the dim light of the porch. “I’ll need a good reward for that, princess.”

  Blair’s eyes closed at the goofy endearment. She’d already figured out that he put on that Southern act when he wanted to annoy her. Incidentally, it worked.

  Rising from his lap she stepped back and hoisted herself up on the porch railing to watch the upcoming show.

  Holding her eyes, he unbuttoned his crisp blue shirt, the light glinting off his silver watch. Once that was on the ground, he reached behind him and pulled off his T-shirt and she just shook her head.

  “That shirt move is so obvious,” she taunted. “Absolutely shameless.”

  Undeterred but amused, he dropped the shirt on the floor with the first and she found her gaze riveted to what he’d revealed, the hard pecs, the dark hair covering his chest and arrowing down beneath his pressed gray pants. He looked effortlessly expensive and athletic and hard in all the right places.

  “You know, people complain about stuff being obvious, but you eat apples, don’t you? Those are delicious and I don’t see anyone complaining about how they’re over apples because everyone eats them.”

  “Deep thoughts, Cole,” Blair said, nodding. “Maybe you should write a philosophy book sometime. But for now, why don’t you take your pants off instead?”

  “Hell, Blair, can’t a guy ease into nudity?” He scratched the back of his head like he was embarrassed. “I’m ready to get things rolling but it sure would be easier if you’d take a little something off too.”

  She shook her head. “You had your chance to get me out of my clothes,” she reminded him. �
��Instead you chose to aggravate me and have me pour you a glass of wine. Seems like you got yourself into quite a pickle.”

  Then she nodded in the direction of his pants and pointed down to the ground with her finger. His eyes alight, he gave her one last look of disbelief before unbuckling his black leather belt, way more slowly than was necessary, before dropping it on the loveseat behind him. That finished, as if his fingers were broken, he played with the button of his pants, seemingly trying and failing to get the button through the hole multiple times before it poked through.

  Then, obviously, the zipper was temperamental, a full minute passing as he struggled to get it unstuck.

  “Have you used clothes before?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest now. “I hope you don’t plan to become a male erotic dancer anytime soon because I’m not sure it’s the career for you.”

  The final rasp of his zipper sounded and her eyes zoomed back to his crotch, seeing that he was already stiff behind his pants. It crossed Blair’s mind that he might actually be truly embarrassed or shy. But then she was reminded of the wealth of pictures of him on the internet where he’d been partying flagrantly seminude and decided he was more probably just messing with her.

  Achingly slowly, he pushed down his pants, finessing them over his tobacco wingtips before dropping them on top of his shirts and belt. Their eyes met as his hands played with the elastic of his blue boxer briefs, the final piece of clothing and indisputably the most important.

  “You’re sure I’m not going to run into something out there that will maim me?”

  Blair thought of the vines. Most of them were strung up with wire but she couldn’t truly be sure something wouldn’t slap him. It would be difficult to see in the dark and it felt cruel to make him venture out there. She was a hard-ass, but she wasn’t without mercy.

  “You can leave those on too.”

  “You’re a good woman, Blair Sandoval,” he breathed in relief, giving her a salute of gratitude. Then he made his way off the porch, and Blair had never considered herself someone interested in the male form before, but leave it to Cole to prove her wrong. Even his back had muscles, and really nice ones.

  “I thought you drove cars and talked for a living. Where’d you get so built?”

  “A gym, Blair,” he said to her as if she were a child. “The place where people exercise. I have a trainer and everything.” Then that grin again. “Incidentally, she likes my ass too.”

  Blair just pressed her lips together and watched him as he made his way toward one of the vine rows. “Do you want a flashlight?” she called.

  “Nah, the moon is bright enough,” he said, then turned around to face her on the porch. “You gonna signal the horn or should I go anytime?”

  She made a hooting sound and started laughing the moment he began running, a string of curses floating behind him as he went.

  “I hate this!” she heard him yell as his footsteps grew fainter the farther away he got.

  Just as she took a drink of her wine, she heard, “Oh, shit! I need help!”

  Blair didn’t believe him for one second. He was one hundred percent just trying to get her out into the dark with him. “Did you find another woman out there to annoy or what?”

  A pause. “Blair! Please, I need your help!”

  The tone of his voice was one she’d never heard before and she immediately became alarmed.

  “Are you okay, Cole?”

  “No, woman, I AM STUCK!” he shouted urgently.

  Then, for what had to be a record number of times for her in a single evening, she went against her better judgment and went to help him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  COLE KNEW HE was probably going to hell for tricking Blair, but, by god, if the little troublemaker didn’t deserve it. He’d started easy on her by giving her the wine as a dare only for her to command he get completely nude right out of the gate? No way was she getting away with it, no matter how cute she looked checking out his ass.

  She took her time about coming to help him, however, and it felt like forever before she appeared at the end of the row, peering down it to see him. “You look okay to me,” she called.

  “I am not okay,” he returned, pretending to unsuccessfully pull his leg out of a small dip in the ground that he hoped looked like a hole from far away in the dark. “And honestly, I’d say by the looks of this hole you have yourself a gopher problem.”

  Blair snorted. “If you knew just how big of a problem that would really be, you wouldn’t joke about it.”

  The comment got her moving, though, and while he probably should have come up with a plan before she was halfway down the row, he wondered what he should do when she finally got to him besides the thing he wanted to do—which was tackle her to the ground and get to some dirty naked business.

  “I don’t even know what you expect me to do that you can’t,” Blair told him, her tone dripping with suspicion. “If you’re stuck in a hole, just dig yourself out. I suspect you’ve had practice in that.”

  Didn’t he know it. “It’s a weird angle,” he lied. He watched as she finally stopped in front of him, looked down to his foot that was clearly not stuck in a hole, glanced at his face, then bowed her head with a put-upon sigh.

  “You just can’t not be this way, can you?” she asked, her head shaking at the silliness.

  He laughed at her exasperation. “I mean, I thought we could enjoy the night sky together from here.”

  “You’re just trying to get me off balance,” she disagreed, crossing her arms over her chest. “And besides, we could see the stars from the porch.”

  “Yeah, but this is a more romantic setting for our first kiss, wouldn’t you say?” he asked. “Under the stars amongst the very grapes you grow. You should be thanking me for being so thoughtful. I’m creating a moment, Blair. Enjoy it.”

  So saying, he tugged on her arm, pulling her closer. She didn’t rush into his arms, but she also didn’t resist so it felt like a win. “Now it’s your turn, truth or dare.”

  She looked him straight in the eyes, a mischievous twinkle there that signaled to him that she definitely was going to choose truth because she knew he’d dare her to kiss him. And as he’d suspected, she said, “Truth.”

  “Truth it is.” He grinned, wishing he wasn’t such a crafty person, but enjoying every second of it. “Now, remember, while you’re not quite under oath in a court of law, you are bound by the sheer magnitude of personal ethics that comes with a game like truth or dare, a game that has been operating since the dawn of time on the very rigid presumption that those who choose truth will, in fact, hold themselves to the high standard of honor that precedes the game by telling the absolute truth.”

  A bland stare before she gave him a sarcastic salute. “I get it.”

  “All right,” he drawled, “if you’re super sure you don’t want to choose dare.”

  Then he took his foot out of the imaginary hole and stood up straight, giving her a once-over that took his cock from resting hard to actively growing, but he could tell she was into it too, because by the time his gaze had touched every part of her, there was heat in her eyes.

  “I’m sure I don’t want dare,” she told him, eyes pinned to him in challenge.

  “Truth it is then,” he declared. Then, “Do you want to kiss me right now?”

  Her nostrils flared at the question because he’d still gotten her. And he would have his kiss with her under the moonlight in a vineyard. He wasn’t much of a reader or a poet but he was still a romantic at heart, and he really was ready to let a little bit of whimsy into his life after two years of drudgery. He didn’t know why or how it had happened on this particular trip, at this particular vineyard, with this particular woman, but he wasn’t a man to question happiness when it came along. Not when he knew now how fleeting and rare happiness could be.

  Blair opene
d her mouth immediately and he could tell by the look on her face that she was going to say no, so he held up a hand to halt her. “Remember now, if you lie, you’re challenging the venerable legacy of truth or dare. Imagine if young children weren’t taught to respect a code, where we’d be as a nation, nay, as a civilization?”

  Blair’s eyes fluttered closed before they opened again so she could openly glare at him. “Fine,” she bit off. “I want to kiss you.”

  He brought her closer then, could feel the heat of her body against his bare skin, the soft brush of clean cotton fabric. She looked like an angry bohemian angel in her flowy skirt and tunic, her long, wavy hair a messy curtain down her back. He let go of one of her hands, letting his own drift up her arm until he hooked it gently around the back of her neck, his thumb running over her bottom lip. She was so soft and he could smell the sweet scent of vanilla on her, bringing to mind ice cream on a summer day.

  Then he leaned his head down until their lips were mere breaths apart and whispered, “It’s my turn.” With a quirk of his lips, he continued, “I choose truth.”

  He watched with delight as her eyes flared again and she took a spiteful step back. While he regretted the fact that she’d created physical space between them he simply could not stop riling her up if he tried.

  “Why me? Why after two years of celibacy are you choosing me to sleep with?”

  Well, shit. His girl knew how to play too. He wanted to lie, of course he did, and maybe if he hadn’t goaded her into telling the truth earlier he would have, but she’d pounced on the opportunity like the smart-ass she was.

  “And remember, don’t sully the spirit and integrity of truth or dare,” she tsked when he continued to hesitate.

  “I wish I had a straight answer for you, sweetheart, but after my brother died I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, let alone having someone in my bed. Then as time went on, it didn’t feel right to be living like I had before he died, like I needed to honor his memory by not wasting my life fucking everything that breathed. But then I came here and you didn’t know anything about my brother and talked to me like a normal human being. It was nice.” Then he met her eyes straight on. “And the fact that you’re sexy as hell doesn’t hurt. You’re just making it seem okay again, and since I’m not a man to overthink things I’ve made the decision to go with it. Also, the calluses on my hand need a break, if you know what I mean.”