Turn & Burn (23 page)

“All I want right now is for someone to find his
cojones
.” I turned toward Colt. “Just me and you, big brother. You in? Winner gets head.”

Jonny and Caine laughed, but Colt studied me. “I know what happened last time I let you close to my
cojones.
After that, you seriously wanna challenge me? Because, babe, I’m gonna go for your throat.”

“Oh, yeah? Bring it.” I tossed his keys across the hood of the ‘Cuda. He snagged them and shook the ring till it jingled.

“Merry Christmas to me. You know I’m gonna make you pay up when you lose, right?”

“I’m counting on the loser paying up.” I shoved Caine out of the way and tried to slide behind the wheel of the Barracuda, but he grabbed my arm.

“Hang on a minute, little biggie. Let me and J.J. get the exhaust hooked up.” Caine tapped the end of my nose with a dirty finger. “Can’t win if you’re passin’ out from carbon monoxide poisoning. Get your sweet ass back on that stool.”

I huffed, but took my seat, watching him and Jonny jack up the rear end and slide underneath. I’d been sitting in the same spot since I’d returned from meeting Chris, just watching the way Dale and Caine worked together. They didn’t even talk most of the time. Jonny and Colt kept up a steady stream of bullshit, but the father and son team seemed to communicate on a whole other level.

Had I forgiven Caine? I vividly recalled asking Dale for his credit card the night they moved our stuff into this house, but his sons had been outside on the porch when Dale offered to pay for the college application I’d been trying to submit. So, yeah, I could almost see Caine’s point.

Had he invaded my privacy? Without a doubt. But there’d been something in his voice when he admitted he’d been hurt as badly as I’d been by his spying that made me want to forgive the unforgivable. For Caine to act in defense of Dale was as natural to him as breathing. For Caine to be hurt that I’d fallen for Colt... well, that was kind of sweet.

Twisted as fuck, but sweet.

There was one thing I hadn’t figured out. Dale must have a bigger goal in mind than teaching Kolby Barnes a lesson. I mean, I already knew that the man didn’t preach, but I doubted he’d put his four million dollar baby on the line for that reason alone, so was he trying to say that the car didn’t mean as much to him as... us? All of us.

An outsider would say that was also twisted as fuck. But, I had to admit, the car was the single thing we three had a common interest in.

What did Dale mean to accomplish by giving Kolby the Barracuda? Because, no matter what anybody said, I was pretty sure a NASCAR crew chief with twenty-five years experience knew my odds of beating Kolby were... less than awesome. So, was it worth four million bucks to Dale to give us all a reason to work out our differences?

Did an orphan dream of money and fame?

Or did he dream of a loving, close-knit family?

If you ain’t riskin’ nothin’, you ain’t livin’.

Dale had found Mom on the side of the road and he’d decided to go for broke, so this bet didn’t seem totally insane, looked at in that light. The grand gesture seemed to be his thing.

He’d bet the thing that meant the most to Caine, but Caine hadn’t argued. He’d rolled up his sleeves and gone to work. And Colt... well, I was still pissed off that he’d let me believe something so horrible for years, but I had to admit, he had a point about me swallowing the tale about Brandon buying Caroline’s car with her supposed earnings, while believing I’d barely earned gas money.

And Colt had clocked as much time as anyone under the hood today. Based on what he’d told me about my race with Rowdy, he must think I had a shot. Or else, wouldn’t he be bitching about the bet?

No, my stepbrothers hadn’t gone out of their way to run after me when I left home. Neither had Dale. It was pretty clear that if I hadn’t cut myself off from this family, I could’ve learned what I’d learned in the last twenty-four hours much sooner.

None of the Hannahs were what I’d thought. And I wasn’t what they’d thought, so we’d all been wrong.

What happened when I lost to Kolby and he drove off in the Barracuda? Or Dale and Caine had to deliver it to his fucking house?

I was missing something. But what?

Oh. Duh
. I nearly tumbled off the stool.

I should be suspicious precisely
because
I hadn’t heard either stepbrother say a negative word. This was how they’d fucked me over the first time, by pretending everything was just peachy.

Jonny tossed a handful of tools into the tool chest, then strolled out of the garage. Caine rolled from underneath the car and got to his feet, moving to lower the floor jack.

“Guess it’s on now.” Colt strutted toward the door.

I jumped off the stool. “You bet your ass it is.”

Caine stuck his head into the car while I buckled up. “Need a pit crew?”

“Oh, no. This is just me and him.” I smiled and reached for the key, but didn’t turn the switch. “But, maybe when I get back, you and I can polish your wrenches.”

I’d made one decision. Why walk around so horny I was cross-eyed when surrounded by a primo collection of cock? It was my turn to manipulate a few people.

Turn and burn, baby.

“Oh, yeah?” He scowled. “Reckon they’d end up as shiny as Rowdy’s wrenches?”

Trying to hide my grin, I cranked the car and gunned the motor. Caine whirled and stomped over to slap the button that controlled the rollup door. Before I could get the ‘Cuda into reverse, he punched the button a second time. The door lurched to a stop, only a few inches from the ground. He gave the device another whack. The barrier started down again.

While I tried not to laugh out loud, Caine strode to the walk-in door and turned the lock. He sauntered to the sink in the corner and washed his hands without as much as a glance in my direction. My tummy fluttered when he spun to face the car. Three strides and he yanked my door open.

“Lower this damn top and put your feet on the ground. Hands in the seat.” He ripped open the button on his jeans, tugged himself free, then jerked his wallet from this back pocket. I stared at his cock while he rolled the condom over it, recalling exactly how that hard column felt driving into me. I’d seen a lot of cocks since my first look at Caine’s, and frankly, none seemed as perfect.

Every sensitive point in my body throbbed with a demand that I give him his way. I unlatched the hooks over the windshield and pressed the button to lower the top, holding his intent gaze. That look was burning me alive. It made me feel like I had little choice but to move into the position he’d ordered, which was hot. At the same time, my need to comply scared the hell out of me.

I turned off the engine and got out of the car, thinking that was what they’d always done—scared the hell out of me, but I was hooked on the thrills. Looking over my shoulder, I held his gaze and bent till my palms touched the seat.

Caine raked my tights off my ass in one hard yank. His seeking fingers found me wet. His cock was hot against my ass, and his thrusting fingers felt delicious, but not for long. I felt him center himself on my entrance and tried to take a deep breath. Anticipation raced through me so hard, my arms trembled.

He entered me with such force I cried out, but not from pain. I tightened around him, but that didn’t slow his hard thrusts until he’d claimed every inch of me.

“Fuckin’... tight... little... pussy.” His fingers curled into my hips. “You make me... crazy.” Each vicious thrust made me moan, but God, he felt good. This was what I sought but could never find anywhere else. “Watchin’ you eat Caroline out....” A long groan completed the sentence. “Bad to the fuckin’ bone.”

I supposed the flurry of hard thrusts was my punishment? I gripped the edge of the seat, thrilling to the way he filled me.

Just as I got close, he paused.

“Don’t stop,” I panted, trying to urge him to action with my internal muscles.

He remained still. “Did you fuck Rowdy?”

I peered over my shoulder. “And if I did?”

His smile was pure devil. “Good. I ain’t no Rowdy fan, but don’t ever let no man make you feel bad for likin’ to goddamn fuck.” I felt him slide out of me as he stepped back. “Now, go kick Colt’s ass. You win, you can have the rest.”

I looked over my shoulder, forcing a smile while I waggled my ass. “You could at least kiss it goodbye. Because, after this, you may never see it again.”

Laughing, Caine jerked off the condom. “Okay, I reckon I could do that much.” Discarding the prophylactic into a fifty-five gallon drum filled with empty car parts boxes, he tucked himself up. Biting the inside of my cheek in frustration, I wrenched the tights up my thighs and over my ass. Ignoring my scowl, he hoisted me into his arms and sat me on the back of the car.

Colt banged on the metal door. “Caine! What the fuck, dude?”

“One minute,” Caine yelled. “Loose connection. Gotta tighten it.”

“Right.” Colt barked. “I’m just a natural blond. Lie to me again, motherfucker.”

While I snickered, Caine raked my hair from my face. He imprisoned my face, cupping my cheeks between rough palms. His pupils were blown. I thought he might laugh, or kiss me, but something in his eyes made my heart take an alarming leap. My laughter died.

“I lied to you, Shelby. About those videos I made of you in your room.”

I brought my arms up between his, using my forearms to knock his hands free. He ducked his head, but gripped my thighs, preventing me from jumping down. “Listen. Just fucking listen, okay? I looked at ‘em all the time. I still do, but not at the places you prob’ly think. I fast-forward every one to the moment you come home from school and throw yourself on your bed. The sun comes through the front windows that time of day. It lights up your hair. You look like an angel, and that’s what I keep going back to see. I didn’t know what to talk to you about, except cars, and all I had to do was look in your eyes to know you wanted to hear so much more.”

He lifted his head. We were practically nose-to-nose and I was drowning in his eyes. The desperation in the dark depths made me ache in new ways.

“After you left, I wished I’d just talked to you about the stuff I didn’t know. Wished I’d told you how many times I’d thought about what it’s like inside a star. Whenever the sun lights up your hair, I think my chest’s gonna explode, so that must be like bein’ inside of a star, right?”

My heart thumped against my ribs. I’d seen this look in his eyes once before. The night he talked and talked and talked about the ‘Cuda, to keep me from crying over Colt.

I’d rather he’d just step on my toes.

“I wished I’d thought to ask if you knew what it felt like to have a hummingbird sit on your finger?” He raised a brow.

I shook my head slowly.

“I think I do. They’d have teeny tiny claws, right? So, whenever you laugh and your eyes light up, every hair stands up on my arms. I can’t help thinkin’, that’s gotta be what it’d feel like to have a thousand hummingbirds sittin’ on me. And when they flutter their wings, that’s gotta be the same feeling as when I look at you and realize I could be happy just lookin’ at you for the rest of my life.”

What. The. Fuck. Just happened?

He spun away. I stared at his back as he strode over to slam his palm against the button to raise the door. I dropped my gaze to the faded denim molded around his ass. God, someone needed to give Wrangler a hug.

The door lifted to reveal Colt with his hands on his hips. “Scared?”

Terrified.
I darted a glance at Caine, catching the smug look he gave Colt.

Wait a damn minute.

They’ve just reversed roles, fool. They don’t love me. They use me and they make me like it.

I hopped off the trunk and refused to give Caine another glance. “You should be.”

C
olt’s headlights strafed the orange and white barricades across Old Cottonmouth Road
.
His brake lights flared.

He jogged to my window. “What the fuck?”

I lowered the glass. “A little gift from Mack Brown. Seems Kolby Barnes doesn’t have many fans around here. Just move the barricade so we can get through.”

“Oh, okay. So, you’re just gonna sit on your ass while I get that done?”

“That’s what big brothers are for. Duh.” I batted my lashes.

“Go signal.” He flashed three fingers, then made a fist. “I ain’t payin’ off if you leave early. Don’t expect you would, either. But I ain’t out here to do a bunch of false starts, so play it straight and let’s rock.”

While he put his shoulder to the barricade so we could pass through, I texted Gerald.

Brought your present.

Laughing at his response—
ho ho ho
—I tossed the phone into the passenger seat, punched the button to turn on the dash cam, and breathed deep, trying to focus on the impending race.

When Colt had made an opening wide enough, I pulled around his car. Twenty feet inside the barrier, I set the Cuda’s nose on the start line and started my burnout to heat the tires, while I waited for him to pull the Mustang beside me and put the barrier back in place. I focused on the reverberations of the engine flowing through my body. This was the kind of racing I recalled, surrounded by darkness, anticipating the payoff for winning, or the price to be paid for losing.