Dangerous Race (9 page)

Breathing hard, they stayed there, clasped together, joined together, for minutes. Without a word, Matthew lifted her off the table and carried her to the bedroom, easing her onto the bed and looking down at her in wonder.

Chelsea felt so much at once. Empowered, exhausted and embarrassed. Easy, sexy and free. Enlightened, amazed and awed. That had truly been the most amazing sex she’d ever had. Granted, her experience was tremendously limited, but still, this had to count for something.

“I’ve never done this before,” she confessed. “What happens next?”

“Never done what before?” he asked, pushing a lock of damp hair away from her face. His soft question sent the goose bumps to the surface.

She never should’ve brought it up. “You know,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “A one-night stand.”

He tipped her cheek to see her face. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why is this only a one-night stand?”

Whoa! Stop! Hold the horses.
“Because…you’re here with work, we don’t live in the same city, I’m only here because—”

“Slow down, slow down,” he admonished, placing a finger against her lips. His brows pressed together. “Did you only do this because you thought it was a one-night stand?”

The partial truth was better than no truth. “I did this because I like you, and I wanted to have some fun.” Before she found herself anymore on the defensive she asked, “What about you? Why did you do this?”

That was easy to answer. Why did any guy go to bed with a woman? Especially one as beautiful, funny and willing as Chelsea?

Matthew rolled away from her and focused on the ceiling. Unsure in the beginning if she meant to cause Tracey trouble, he’d figured the more he talked to her, the better chance he had of determining her intentions. But as the night wore on, her innocence, her eyes and her smile had sucked him in.

“Matthew?” Chelsea turned on her side and looked at him, waiting for an answer.

“We connected tonight, Chels,” he said, tucking some hair behind her ear. “I had a great time with you. I’m still having a great time. Look, you’ve got to know that I’ve never done anything like this either.” He sat up and tossed the condom in the wastebasket by the bed.

Chelsea’s fingers grazed a light path down his back. Despite the voice whispering in his head to leave and take her up on the one-night stand, his body screamed for the opposite. It hadn’t been ten minutes and he was ready for her again.

“What’s wrong? Did I say or do something wrong?” For some reason, the sadness in her voice cut him deep.

He caught her hand in his. “No, no, you didn’t do anything.” He leaned in and kissed her. Her warm fingers stroked his nape and desire flared higher. He laid her down while skimming his hand over her silky skin. He had no idea why he felt the way he did, why such a possessiveness clutched at his gut.
This is insane.

“What’s insane?” she asked.

God, had he said it out loud? “I can’t get enough of you,” he breathed in her ear. It was true. He wanted nothing more than to be buried deep inside her.

Her lips curled up through a kiss. “I like that,” she murmured.

“Do you like this?” Lowering his head, he put his mouth over her nipple and drew her in. She held him against her breast, moaned and arched into him. “Is that a yes?” he said against her skin.

“Yes, yes. It’s a yes,” she panted.

He played with her, teased her. His hands roamed across her smooth belly. His fingers found her slick heat and caressed her.

She moved restlessly as his tongue blazed a path up her neck. “Matthew, are we really going to do this again? So soon?”

“It sure looks that way,” he said, delving deep with his fingers.

“Oh God, I need you inside of me.” She pressed against his hand.

“I am inside of you,” he whispered, then he tasted the shell of her ear. Sweet and salty at the same time.

She gasped and angled her mouth toward his. “You know what I mean. I need your big, solid…the other part of you inside me before I lose my mind.”

He liked her candor, flipped over the fact that she wanted him again. He hadn’t started the night with the idea of a one-night stand. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He’d actually felt something special for her and wasn’t ready to see it end.

“I need to know that I’m going to see you again, Chelsea.” He moved over her and watched her brilliant blue eyes. His fingers continued their erotic massage. “I need to know this is more than tonight.” He couldn’t resist the temptation of her lips and kissed her hungrily.

“Why?” she asked when they came up for air. “Why can’t this be one fabulous night that we’ll never forget?” She closed her eyes. “Matthew, please, I need all of you.”

Introducing her to Trace guaranteed he’d see her again, but not the way he wanted to see her. “Tell me you’ll meet me tomorrow night.” He took her another notch higher.

“Matthew…more…”

“Tell me, Chels. Tell me you’ll see me again tomorrow.”

Her eyes opened as she pressed against his fingers. He purposely moved away from her G-spot. “This is blackmail,” she panted.

“Yep,” he agreed. “Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll give you what you want.” He moved his fingers back and she gasped.

“Yes, yes, I’ll meet you tomorrow, whenever you want. Now please, please…”

Matthew ripped open another foil wrapper, covered himself and plunged inside her hot, slippery entrance.

“Oh God, you feel so incredible,” she breathed.

“So do you.” Matthew kept a slow rhythm. He studied her differences from Trace. Chelsea’s cheekbones were a little higher, or maybe they were more prominent because she was a couple pounds thinner and a half inch taller. Either way, he knew he’d be able to tell them apart in the dark. Chelsea had a femininity that Trace lacked.

Hearing the soft sounds coming from the back of her throat, he wanted to give her everything he had. “Promise me tomorrow.” He pushed inside her again with a long smooth stroke and she moaned his name. “Promise me tomorrow, Chels.” He withdrew and gave her more.

“I promise.” She met him, held onto him with her arms and legs. Gripped him tightly, a woman possessed.

He kissed her as he drove deep inside and they only stopped when their climaxes forced a scream from both of them.

Nothing else had ever been this right.

Matthew opened his eyes. Chelsea lay curled up next to him, breathing in a deep sleep and looking as peaceful as a tiny kitten. He checked the clock, then turned off his watch alarm before it went off. Unable to stop himself, he ran a gentle hand along the dip of her waist, over the curve of her hip and farther down her thigh. Her silky smooth skin gave him another hard-on. He trailed his hand back up the same path. Goose bumps rose under his touch and he glanced at her face.

Shining sapphire-blue eyes watched him.

“Hey.” His hoarse voice carried way too much emotion. He just wasn’t sure why.

“Hi,” she murmured. A feline smile crossed her lips.

Matthew wanted to devour her. “I have to go to work. I didn’t want you to wake up and think I’d deserted you.”

“Mmmm.” She stretched and smoothed a light hand across his chest. Her touch sent his blood pumping hotter, and his dick reacted with a noticeable twitch. “What time do you have to be there?”

“In an hour. But I need to get to my room, shower and grab a bite to eat before I go.”

She snuggled closer and wrapped a leg high around his thigh. He felt her heat and suddenly realized he’d made a huge tactical error. Maybe waking her up had been a bad idea.

“You could shower here and save a few minutes,” she whispered in his ear. Right before she stuck her tongue in it. The sensation shot directly to his groin faster than a car going two hundred down the straightaway.

“I could do that,” he said, rolling her over and ending on top.

“You could also skip breakfast. Food is highly overrated,” she said, pulling him down for her kiss. Apparently they weren’t going to have the classic and dreaded uncomfortable-morning-after-the-one-night-stand.

That suited Matthew fine. He wrapped his arms around her pliant body and buried his tongue in her warm mouth.

But why couldn’t he get out of bed? He’d had girlfriends over the years but he’d never had a problem getting out of their beds. What the hell happened to him last night? Maybe he needed to step back and take a breather.

He tore his mouth from Chelsea’s. “I don’t have time for this, Chels,” he lied. “I wish I did, but I really need to get going.”

“Okay.” She flopped her arms on the bed in surrender.

“Okay?” That wasn’t much of a fight.

“Yeah,” she said. “But go ahead and use my shower. It’ll save you a few minutes.”

Matthew felt discarded. It didn’t matter that he’d initiated the distance. He rolled off her and headed to the bathroom. Maybe this really was a one-night stand for her. It shouldn’t bother him if that were the case, but it did.

After turning on the shower faucet, he closed his eyes and stepped into the hard needles of cool water. It didn’t take long to lose the hard-on.

“This water is way too cold.” Chelsea’s voice shocked him as she stepped into the tub, and he turned to face her. She brushed against him and turned up the hot water. Her wet skin screamed to be touched. Steam rose high.

So did he.

Stepping aside, he let the water douse her. She flattened her wet hair against her head and moved past him. “Your turn,” she said.

Matthew stood under the spray, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She lathered soap in her hands then touched herself, smoothing the foam across her breasts and lower to her stomach.

A devilish glint in her blue eyes and the coy smile curving her lips jacked his blood pressure higher. “Would you like some?” she asked. Presumably she was talking about soap, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Not even close.

He didn’t answer her immediately, couldn’t find words as he watched the water and soap trickle down her lean body in bubbly rivers.

She moved forward, soap in hand, and lathered him. His chest, his arms, then lower to his stomach, and lower still. She wrapped slippery fingers around his hard-on and slid her hand up and down until Matthew thought he might lose it.

Technically speaking, he did lose it. He pulled her against him and kissed her. Kissed her as though he were a starving man and she was his first meal in weeks. As soon as they came up for air, she magically came up with another condom.

“Last one,” she said, waving it before she ripped it open. “I hate waste.”

This time, she covered him. She barely finished before he lifted her up against the tile wall and pushed inside. She was hotter than the water pounding on them…and so frickin’ tight.

Matthew tried to hold back the massive climax he was about to have. But moving in and out of her so hard and fast, with her nails digging in his back, her legs wrapped around his hips in a vice grip and the husky moans coming from her throat, he didn’t stand a chance.

The rumbling started deep inside him, the beginning of the orgasm he was trying to delay. Chelsea cried out. She broke apart in his arms, her body shuddered and there was no stopping his own liquid rush. His climax quaked through him hard and long.

They held onto each other until Matthew thought his arms might break off at his shoulders. He set her down gently but kept her against his chest, refusing to accept that he’d be walking away from her for good in a few minutes.

“I’ll call you tonight when I’m done in the garage, okay?”

She didn’t say anything and Matthew’s blood raced in apprehension. He set her away from him and stared into her blue eyes. “You promised, Chels.”

She sighed as if she just now resigned herself to the idea. “Fine. I’ll see you tonight.” Her eyes turned hopeful. “Maybe you can talk to Tracey today. See if she’ll meet me?”

“Deal,” he said. “Dinner?”

She nodded and he pulled her close, more relieved than he had a right to be.

Hell, he still had no idea what he was doing.

“How’s the car running? Over,” Mac asked, his voice crackling over the headset.

“Not good,” Tracey answered. The car had been running great before today and finding speed hadn’t been a problem, but now it wasn’t responding and doubts about winning wormed into Tracey’s head. She shifted into a higher gear coming out of the chute. “She’s a little pointy. Having a hard time. Feels like I’m towing a big-rig. Over.”

“Roger that. Shit. Bring her in. We’ll take a look. Over.”

“Coming in.”

Four teammates rolled the car into the garage and into Matthew’s capable hands. Tracey went to the office and by the time she shrugged out of her race suit and returned, he was swearing up a blue streak.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Matthew came away from the engine, wiped his hands on a rag then threw the cloth across the garage. Most of the crew had made themselves scarce.

“What? What is it?”

“All the changes we made last night were bullshit. Someone screwed with the telemetry scale and we made changes based on false readings. She should’ve been ready for anything today. This is bullshit,” he roared. “I have to readjust everything to find her balance again. On top of it, whoever jimmied the scale put sand in the oil too. We need a whole new engine.”

“So it was deliberate,” a voice said from behind her.

Tracey turned and saw Mac in the doorway. The dimple in his chin did nothing to soften the hard lines around his eyes. He came forward and took the filter Matthew handed him.

“Shit, yeah. It had to be,” Matthew said, pacing in front of them, anger radiating from every pore. “There’s nothing I can do. We need another engine and it’s going to take most of the day to get it. I swear we came with two extras, but one’s for race day and I can’t find the rebuilt one. It should’ve been in the parts truck, but it wasn’t.” He kicked an empty oil tray, sending it flying across the room.

Mac sighed. “Just find one and fix it. I’ll try to switch practice time with another crew. I’ll call Ed too, and figure out security here. This can’t happen again. We can’t afford the downtime. In the meantime—” he looked at her, “—we can discuss strategy.”

“Oh, goody,” she mumbled. “Can’t wait.”
Not.

Two hours later, Tracey emerged from the office, mentally exhausted from trying to focus on strategy instead of Mac’s dimpled chin. Instead of rehashing their differences of opinion, she cleared her mind, rolled her head against her shoulders and stretched out sore muscles.

There was
one
thing she’d figured out while being cooped up with Mac: how to keep her car safe until security tightened.

The crew was in wait mode. Some sat around idly while others were taking the opportunity to grab a quick snack.

Matthew sat on the counter, cleaning an engine part. He seemed lost in thought, a million miles away. He reminded her of the day they’d met almost ten years ago. He’d been a brooding teenager with something to prove. He could make anything run, fix anything that stopped. Tracey couldn’t imagine trusting her car to anyone else.

“What’s the status?” she asked.

He didn’t look up. “We found an engine, it’s on the way,” he said calmly. His anger had obviously dissipated. “It should be here within the hour.”

“Good.” What was that faraway look in his eyes? Asking would only bring trouble. It was easier to keep him at a distance, keep everyone at a distance. It was funny…no…it was sad how four years changed things. She headed for the door.

“I met your twin.”

That stopped her. She turned back. “My twin?”

“Yeah.” He finally glanced up. “I met a woman in the hotel bar last night and she’s your double.”

“She can’t be my
exact
double,” Tracey said.

“But she is.” Matthew concentrated on the part, rubbing as if he might wear a hole in the damn thing. “I checked your calendar in the office and with the practice time switched it won’t happen today, but I was thinking about bringing her by tomorrow. I thought it’d be interesting to put the two of you next to each other.”

“We look that much alike, huh?”

“Yeah. People have been asking for her—your—autograph. I think she’s getting a little tired of the limelight.”

“What’s her story?” Tracey asked, taking a step toward him.

“She said she saw you on TV last week.” Matthew looked up, his face serious. “She thinks the two of you might be related.”

Tracey groaned. “Aw, Matthew, not one of those. Give me a break. Not this week, okay. I don’t want to meet ‘my twin.’” How many times had she met female fans claiming they could be sisters?

He didn’t crack a smile. “I’m serious, Trace. I think she might be for real. She wouldn’t tell me the whole story, said it was private, but she saw your press conference and…” He shrugged as if that said it all. “I didn’t tell her anything about you. I spent some time with her to make sure she wasn’t…you know—” he twirled his finger next to his head, “—a mental case. She’s nice, down to earth. Funny too.”

“Huh. Exactly like me,” Tracey kidded.

“Ha.
Nothing
like you,” Matthew threw back. “Except, man, she’s a dead ringer for you, Trace.” He set the part down and the word
dead
stuck in her mind. “So, I’ll tell her to come by tomorrow afternoon, after practice, okay? I think you’ll know pretty quickly if she’s for real or not. And I won’t let you out of my sight. I promise.”

Memories of years past, shared secrets and dreams, rushed up and blindsided Tracey. She couldn’t resist a taste of the old days and hopped up on the counter next to Matthew. “Tell me about last night. What did you do…think she was me and make a rude comment?”

He smiled wide. “Kind of.” The devilish grin reminded Tracey of the rebellious eighteen-year-old she’d had a crush on years ago.

He explained the first few minutes of his conversation with her double and Tracey laughed. She easily pictured Matthew trying to shoo the lady away. He’d become professional at getting
her
out from under foot years ago…at least until she’d been old enough to hang around legitimately.

“So she’s nice, huh?”

Matthew nodded. He studied her as if he hadn’t ever seen her before, then he went back to the part in his hand. “Real nice. I like her.”

Yeah, right. “That’s all? You just
like
her?”

He rolled his eyes. “I only met her yesterday, Trace. Give me a break.”

“Okay, okay. It’s just that you’ve got a gnarly hickey, right here,” she said, pointing behind his ear. “Was she a little hungry last night?” Color rose in his face and it suddenly dawned on Tracey
how much
he liked this woman…last night. “Oh my God! You dog!”

Matthew flashed a wicked smile and picked up a new part to polish.

An odd warmth seeped through Tracey as they sat in comfortable silence. Five years ago, she’d thought about making a play for Matthew. Instead she’d chosen Eddie. It had probably been the biggest mistake of her life. But now, after so many years and so many struggles, Matthew seemed more of a big brother. It was nice to see that someone she cared about was happy.

“What’s her name?”

“Chelsea.”

“Pretty.”

His brown eyes looked off at something besides the metal in his hands. “Yeah, she is.” By the look on his face, she’d lost him completely.

No one would ever think about her the way Matthew seemed to be thinking about this Chelsea. “No. I mean her name is pretty.”

“So is she.”

Reverting to days of old, Tracey smacked his bicep. “Did you just compliment me?”

“Ouch!” Matthew snapped out of his stupor but grinned as he rubbed his arm. “I guess I did.”

Holding back her own smile, Tracey hopped off the counter. “Well, cut it out. Someone’ll think I did something nice to deserve it and it’ll kill my reputation.” She gestured to her car. “What time do you think she’ll be ready?”

“We’ll have her ready to roll by this afternoon.”

Tracey raised her brows. “Hmmm…could that possibly be because you have a dinner date with the lovely Chelsea?”

Matthew threw his rag at her, a scowl crossing his face. “Don’t you have something to do?”

Ah, shades of the good old days. “Such as?”

“I don’t know, buy a dress.”

That was a first. He’d told her to do a lot of things over the years, had even told her where she could go a few times, but buy a dress had never been one of them.

“
What?
For what?”