Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (18 page)

Hot damn.

What did I say in that moment?

“Roarrrr!” Complete with a hand gesture.

Yep, in that moment
that’s
what I chose to say.

Why you ask? Because I’m inappropriate and that’s how I rolled. I was just amazed I didn’t belt out the lyrics to him.

Jameson fell against me in a fit of laughter at my reaction but he didn’t get distracted for long, the boy’s determined.

Nudging my legs apart with his knees, he placed one hand behind my left knee and hitched it up his bare hip.

Bending forward at the waist he leaned his face against mine and whispered in my ear. “This is something I’ve
always
wanted to do with you.”

Did he just say what I think he said?

“Huh?”

Jameson didn’t waste any time at all before pushing himself forward into me.

“I’ve
...
uh
...
nothing.” He mumbled hooking his hands on the top of the hood
...
for leverage.

He went in for the kill, assaulting my neck with wet kisses and soft nips while his hips rocked against mine. The steel hood was not designed to support the weight of two grown adults and began to flex beneath us but that also did nothing to deter Jameson.

We didn’t last long before I’m once again moaning like a whore and he started in with the dirty heathen car talk at my ear to push me over the edge.

“You like that honey?” Jameson grunted reaching for a fist full of my hair, wrapping tightly around his fingers tugging gently.

“You have the most amazing camshaft!” I blurted out in my lust drunken somber.

“Fuck!” Jameson cried out slamming his right fist against the hood beside my head, the steel vibrated causing me to once again jump. His other hand was still holding my thigh securely to his hip. “I love the way you say camshaft.” He growled right before his head fell forward against the hood above my shoulder.

I turned my head to get a good look at him, his eyes remained closed, his brow furrowed in concentration and determination, biting down on his bottom lip.

I wanted to take a picture of that face right there, blow it up and hang it on the ceiling in my bedroom.

By that point, we were both panting, my ass was stuck to the hood and I was sure I had sticker burn.

My hair was caught in an air vent, my toe is stuck in a hood pin loop and Jameson was still trembling above me. His hands were gripping my shoulders tightly, holding me against his chest.

I was afraid to move or even breathe.

Drawing in a shaky breath, he whispered. “We should
...
get off the hood.” then placed a row of soft tender kisses along my collarbone, still panting.

He can be so sweet.

“Yeah, we should.” I agreed but we still made no attempt to get up.

I didn’t know if we actually could. We’ve worn ourselves out today. What is this like round six
...
maybe even seven.

Eventually we did peal ourselves from the hood that was indeed dented.

Jameson laughed when he looked down. “This is the one we’re taking to Pocono too.”

Laughing at him, I put on my oil-saturated jeans just about the time Kyle comes walking into the shop with Gentry, his younger brother, trailing close behind.

Kill me now.

At that point, Jameson still hadn’t put his shirt back on. Not that I minded but now they were going to know what we were just doing,
in
a race shop,
on
the hood of a race car.

Jameson had oil smudges on his face and neck with his hair looking like it could easily have its own zip code.

Who am I kidding, I’m sure I didn’t look any better, my hair is all over the place, I had oil literally everywhere
and
I was missing a shoe.

Kyle approached us while Jameson slipped his shirt over his broad shoulders.

“What happened in here?” Kyle glanced towards the oil on the ground
and
on the hood of Jameson’s car.

“I spilled some oil and we
...
slipped in it.” Jameson replied throwing some shop towels on the ground to soak up the mess.

I was still searching for my other shoe when I found it on the spare pit box. I climbed up there and retrieved my shoe while Gentry and Kyle started loading the hauler.

Usually this would have already been done but Jameson insisted on taking this particular car to Pocono so they had to reload the car and the back-up car.

Kyle ran his fingers across the dent, his head quirked to one side. “Jameson, why does the hood of your car look like someone sat on it?”

I sunk as far down in that damn pit box as I could without falling.

What did Jameson do?

He smiled, his head tilting slightly but didn’t look up from his spot on the floor where he was cleaning the oil. “That’s because someone
did
have their ass on the hood of my race car, Kyle.” And then he looked up and proceeded to nod his head arrogantly with that stupid dirty smirk plastered across his face.

I wanted to kill him.

Kyle shook his head in disbelieve. “I don’t even want to know.”

I didn’t think I could be any more embarrassed than this morning in the hotel room
but
this surpassed it.

Gentry, who was standing beside the pit box, nodded his head as he let out a low drawn out whistle. “Damn.”

Once again, embarrassment does not do this justice.

“See you later bud.” Kyle grinned towards me. “And careful with that engine over there—it’s getting ready to be sent out for bearing alignment and sonic testing. Wouldn’t want to disturb it,”

I said nothing because there wasn’t any point adding any fuel to that particular fire. In a matter of minutes, we’d dented a hood and coated the floor with oil. Just imagine what we could do to that engine.

“What’s a sonic test?” I asked pretending to be shy when the guys left and we remained cleaning up our mess.

Jameson’s warm eyes darted to mine from the floor. He grinned with an adorable nod. “Hmm
...
you don’t need much recovery time, do you?”

 “You should know by now, I can go all night.” I told him with very little wavering on my part. I may have shifted my stance but other than that, I was strong and confident. I was wining this battle to make up for all the embarrassment.

He inhaled a breath before letting it whoosh out and smiled. His hand came up as he leaned against the side of a toolbox running it across the back of his neck. “Sonic testing uses high frequency sound energy to measure material
...
” he looked up at me, the warm green in his eyes darkened. “it measures the material
thickness
.”

I nearly fucking fainted because when he said
thickness
, his entire body shifted towards me, his breath blowing across my face. It couldn’t have been much more erotic than that right there.

“And how does that work?” I provoked him stepping closer as well.

Once again, our bodies were nearly touching; just one slight movement and we’d be welded together. The lack of touching was providing all the heat in this though. Jameson may have been the driver, but he knew engines, my engine to be exact. He knew my particular engine didn’t need to be heated prior to the race but goddamn did he know how.

In case you’re wondering, this is a real term too. In sprint car racing, it’s common for the guys to “put heat in the engine” prior to the race. They do this by hooking the car up to a machine and bringing the engine and cooling systems up to race temperature. The main purpose of this was getting the most horsepower during the race.

I had no problems in that particular area, that’s for sure. My engine was up to race temperature in a matter of seconds.

Jameson’s eyes searched mine as he spoke, watching me intently. “The machine sends out a signal and measures the time it takes to echo back. The longer it takes, the
thicker
the material. It measures the cylinder wall thickness as well as the cylinder heads.”

“Is it an effective test
...
this sonic testing?” I did this snicker-snort thing because it was the only other noise I could make at that moment so I didn’t moan and ruin all this dirty engine talking.  

Slowly, he drew in his bottom lip, his tongue dragging across it just as slowly as his eyes squinted slightly. “It’s a very effective test,
if
done correctly.” His breathing increased when I reached forward and grabbed him by his shirt.

“Let’s see how long we really can go.”

“I think we have enough heat in the engine.” He leaned closer breathing a throaty string of words in my ear that sealed whatever deal I wanted. “And I can also
...
go
all night long
.”

5.
             
Rev Limiter
–
Sway

Rev Limiter – Modern engines are controlled by electronic mapping software that controls things such as fuel consumption and ignition timing. Rev limiting is used for two purposes: to keep the engine from exceeding its maximum rotational speed and exploding into pieces of very expensive shrapnel and to adhere to speed limit rules on pit lane.

“So how was getting caught the morning after?”

“How the fuck did you know about that?” I growled at Emma with a mouth full of food.

“Spencer—who else?” Emma took a bite of her eggs, chewing slowly. “Look at it this way; they don’t know it was you.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding since she started talking. “I can’t say the same for Jameson,” I warned. “he knows about you and Aiden.”

“What do you
mean
he knows?”

“That’s exactly what I
mean
, Emma.” I answered taking another bite of my blueberry pancakes. “We
saw
you.” I raised my eyebrows at her as we sat there in the corner booth of the Cracker Barrel restaurant in Downingtown Pennsylvania.

We had arrived in Pennsylvania early this morning and decided to get some breakfast before Jameson had to be at the track.

Alley and Spencer were already at the track so Jameson invited Emma and Aiden to come along with us and I knew the reason why.

Emma slouched in the booth throwing her tiny arms over her head. Aiden was in the bathroom and Jameson suddenly had to make a phone call when Aiden got up.

I’m pretty sure he was having a conversation with him about what we witnessed. I actually feared for Aiden’s safety, which was why I kept looking over my shoulder to see where the hell Jameson had disappeared to.

Emma perked up with a sense of alarm. “Wait,” she glanced around suspiciously. “Where did Jameson go?”