Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (22 page)

“All I think about now is her amazing body wrapped around mine, broken furniture
...
” his hand traveled closer to the promise land, inching along with both determination but just enough hesitation it was enough to drive me mad. “Race car hoods
...
” he breathed heavily, his hand reaching my crankcase and then dancing circles around my ignition switch, “and bearing alignment,” His lips pressed to my neck once and his tongue darted out, licking me. “
...
assembly lube and align boring. God honey, the affect you have on me is
...
unbelievable.”

Hot damn.

My hand flew up in the air as though I had the golden ticket. “Check please!” I suddenly yelled.

In all actuality, I did have the golden ticket, only it was a little more in the shape of a camshaft and calling my name.

Jameson chuckled against my neck and leaned forward to pull out his wallet. “Someone’s
eager
.”

On the way back to the track, his hand never left my leg and neither did the feather light touching or the dirty car talk whispering he did so goddamn well.

“I don’t get it.” I said reaching for my bag on the floorboard. “How did you go a year with that sex drive?”

Jameson shifted in his seat. “Is that really a question you want an answer to?” He looked at me with a strange expression.

“Well yeah, I asked, didn’t I?”

He let out a nervous chuckled. Jameson was a lot of things but nervous or shy was never one of them. “Were you lying when you said it’d been a year?”

“No, I wasn’t lying.” He assured me. “It’s actually been longer than a year. The last time was in Vegas last March, well over a year ago.”

“So you
...
”

“You’re not actually going to make me say it, are you?”

I looked at him confused, completely lost as to what he was referring to. I don’t think I’d been this confused since I saw my first penis. Imagine my surprise when I found out it had balls attached to it and was covered in hair.

Jameson sighed loudly rolling his eyes dramatically, annoyed by my confusion. He glanced over at my puzzled expression closing his eyes as though he didn’t want to say it. “Jesus Christ, there’s uh
...
other
...
you know
...
ways to satisfy the urge.” He hinted and I
finally
understood what he was insinuating.

Self-lovin.

What did I do then?

Giggled.

Not only because it was funny to me that Jameson Riley would have to resort to “self lovin” but also because I found the idea of Jameson and his “self lovin” incredibly hot and all I could do was giggle.

“You’re such a shit head!” Jameson barked pushing against my shaking shoulders.

“Do you remember,” I paused drawing a much-needed breath. “when Jimi used to refer to it as bleeding your pressure valve?” More giggling escaped me.

“I’m not really amused by this.” He shot back watching my breakdown in disbelief.

Once I stopped laughing, the car hummed in silence for a few moments before I broke it. “Why do you
...
I mean, you
...
uh
...
have women all over you.”

Surely, he’s had opportunities. Look at him, who wouldn’t want him?

“I
...
don’t know,” he shifted in his seat again. His shoulders seemed tense, that vulnerability rolling from him in waves. “I guess I got to a point where I just got tired of it. They only wanted one thing from me or they were in it just for the pit lizard fame. They didn’t want me, they wanted the lifestyle. And anyone that did want something more than a one-time thing, I couldn’t offer it to them.” His eyes shifted from the road towards me briefly. “This isn’t the
ideal
lifestyle for a relationship, Sway. I’m on the road at least forty weeks out of the year, sometimes longer. How can I ask someone to make that type of commitment?”

I got the feeling he was implying a lot more in this conversation than he was letting on. Like the fact that he couldn’t offer me what I want. He was telling me he couldn’t offer me more than what was going on right now.

“Did you apologize to Emma?” I asked wanting to change the subject away from this. I reached for my gum in the bottom of my bag.

“Yeah, we talked.”

“Do you understand
why
she didn’t want to tell you?”

Jameson sighed. “I get it. Spencer and I can be scary.”

“Spencer can be scary.” I clarified shoving the stick of gum in my mouth and then offering him a piece. “
You
on the other hand, you’re like
...
the incredible hulk.”

“Am not,” he replied defensively taking the gum.

I gave him an unconvincing look. “Really, what did you do to her first boyfriend when you caught them making out?”

“Pft,” he snorted. “That fucking brat deserved it.”

“Or what about the time you found out she lost her virginity to Ryder?”

“Hey,” he barked back at me. “I’m still friends with Ryder.”

“Probably because he’s afraid you’ll kill him. He’s keeping his enemies close.”

Jameson was in complete denial of his anger problem; the boy could snap in matter of seconds and be a
completely
different person. He had multiple personalities as I called it and they didn’t always get along.

“So what’s the deal with you and Darrin?” I handed him his water bottle.

Just by the constant media attention surrounding them, I knew the gist of the rival but still, there seemed to be more to it than the standard “rubbing is racing” term.

“He’s had it out for me since Daytona.” Jameson answered. “Before the race, his girlfriend, Mariah
...
well let’s just say she made it known she was
interested
. I didn’t respond to her advances or anything but she told Darrin that I hit on her.”

I’d never seen Mariah before, but now, I felt the need to know what this woman looked like. She was probably beautiful like all the other pit lizards wandering around the track on race weekends.

“Seriously, she did that?” I asked incredulously, my eyes wandered to the passing cars headlights. Briefly, I was reminded of our time spent traveling together that summer, how different is seemed now.

“Yep,” Jameson shifted in his seat again and switched hands on the steering wheel, turning towards me with his shoulders. “She’s a bitch and he’s a real fucker on
and
off the track, well, you saw.” He threw his right hand up in the air before letting it dangle loosely over the wheel. “Not only did he wreck me back in USAC but once I got to cup he spun me around on pit road in Phoenix and then ran into me after the fucking race in Dover. Each week it’s something else. You saw the Winston
...
” he sighed in frustration. “It’s hard to believe in a sport with guys that are supposed to be professionals—he can get away with that. I still think he was behind the fuel additive in Charlotte.”

“Has Mariah talked to you sense then?”

“No,”

I knew Jameson well enough to know he hated the drama of all this. He only wanted to race, not embroiled with the trivial high school bullshit that came along with some of the other drivers in the series.

Our conversation continued like this for a while until we arrived back at the track, I was surprised to see that we didn’t pull in towards the paddock.
Instead
, he turned and drove towards the garages.

“Where are we going?”

“You said you wanted a
ride
.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Did you clear it with NASCAR?” you couldn’t miss the excitement in my voice.

“Yeah,” he chuckled at my enthusiasm. “Gordon said it would be fine.”

I’ve always wanted to ride in a cup car and could hard to mask my excitement.

I was giddy as hell when he strapped the helmet on me
and
nervous as hell when he pulled on the track. He stopped the car on pit lane and shut the engine off to explain some rules he apparently had.

I was scrunched on the passenger side, which if you’ve ever seen the passenger side of a cup car, there was not one.

Crammed in between roll bars, the discharge nozzle for the fire extinguisher and me were getting
real
acquainted.

Jameson pulled his helmet off so he could talk to me, running his fingers through his distraught mess of hair nervously. “Now, this isn’t safe at all, so I
won’t
be going full speed.”

“No, no, no
...
I want the full experience.” I shifted my ass a slightly to get the nozzle out. “Fuck safety.”

He chuckled giving me a lopsided grin. “We’ll see about that
...
now, if for some reason we
...
uh
...
crash,” he shook his head at the thought. “Just
...
hold on to anything you can.” He gave me a tortured expression. “This is a bad idea Sway, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Jameson. When have we ever done
anything
that was a good idea?” I was trying to emphasize our situation.

“Good point,” he loosened his belts. “I’m not wearing these if you don’t have any. So, let’s see
...
” he gave me a wicked smile and stared at me for a moment. “Just hold on tight, honey.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on my helmet, flipped my visor down, and put his back on.

Taking note of his every move, he flipped switches and then shifted the car in low gear keeping his foot on the clutch revving the engine a couple times.

Craning his neck to look over at me, he winked once.

I couldn’t focus on anything with the revving, the roar alone vibrating my girly bits in a
very
nice way.

It wasn’t lost on me though that we were doing something incredibly stupid. Here Jameson was paid millions each year to race and he’s taking his car out for a joy ride with no belts. It wasn’t exactly the smartest decision either of us had ever made.

All thoughts were lost when he revved the engine once more.

There’s something to be said about the sound of a stock car revving to life, I can’t explain, it’s a sound but it’s
the
sound, if that made any sense at all.

I bit down on my lower lip when the car began to move at a slow speed down pit lane, then on the apron of the track.

Jameson took his hand off the gearshift and gave me thumbs up. I gripped the roll bars tightly and gave him thumbs up as well, letting him know I was ready for
my ride
.

Even over the engine and the wind, there was no doubt he could hear my screams when he slammed the car into high gear as we hit the straightaway.