Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (19 page)

His fingers were quick,
his hands were strong, his tongue was fervent and his mouth was scorching.

The problem I had is
that Jameson would get me right to the point of my release and then pull away
with a chuckle. He did this probably five times before I screamed, “Fuck me
Jameson!” at the top of my lungs.

What
was
even more embarrassing were the chuckles from the announcer’s booth next to
Jameson’s office.

Yep, ten grown men,
most of which I grew up with, just heard me tell my boyfriend to fuck me.

Was I embarrassed? Yes,
immensely so.

Did I care? Not one
fucking bit. What I cared about was Jameson finishing what he started.

“I swear to god
Jameson!” I whisper-shouted, “If you don’t fuck me
right now
...
I will never have sex with you again.”

He chuckled looking up
through his dark lashes. “Don’t threaten me.” His eyes grew solemn. “You and I
both know that wouldn’t happen.”

“Don’t test me.”

“You know, I don’t
think you’re in the position to be threatening me.” His eyes shifted to my
hands. “You are in fact handcuffed to a chair and I have the
only
key.”

Why you dirty fucking
heathen!

I knew what to do to
get him. After all, I
am
a woman. Naturally, we have a built in defense
mechanism for when a situation isn’t going our way.

We cry.

So I cried. Big
crocodile tears with my puppy dog eyes. “Please Jameson
...
” the clanking of the handcuffs as I
pleaded caught his stare and he weakened just like I knew he would. For a deal
sealer, I raced to add, “I need you!”

He ripped the handcuffs
off the next second, dropped his pants and had me bent over his desk instantly.

In forty six seconds
exactly, I was clenching, screaming and quivering against his dark cherry wood
desk.

With the funbags
dangling over his laptop, his hands grasped firmly around my hips as he let out
a groan and a few words I couldn’t distinguish.

He fell forward against
my back. “I’m weak.”

“Yes you are. I won
again.”

“Only because you used
tears,”

“I have to use any
advantage I can when
Jameson Riley
is my boyfriend.”

I felt him chuckle
against me, his lips dancing along my shoulder blades. The rhythm of our hearts
slowed into relaxation.

“You say my name like
I’m some kind of god.”

“You are.”

“That’s right, remember
that.”

And he’s back.

“Remember I won. Sway
two. Jameson zero,”

Jameson stood and
pulled his pants up. I watched as he slowly buttoned them with that damn smirk,
his belt clanking.

God,
that
sound
!

“I don’t think so. You
still have to walk through the announcer’s booth after what
you
just
said. Jameson one.” He waggled his eyebrows at me and headed for the door after
pulling his t-shirt back on.

I searched the floor of
his office for my panties but when Jameson got to the door, he looked over his
shoulder. His hand came up, his thumb running back and forth across his lower
lip as though he was hiding a secret. That’s when I notice him holding my
panties up.

“We’re tied honey.”

5.
               
Gasket
– Sway

Gasket – A thin
material made of paper, metal, silicone, or other synthetic materials, that is used
as a seal between two similar machined metal surfaces such as cylinder heads
and the engine block.

“Jameson, this is a bad
idea.”

“No
...
it’s
not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No,” he shook his head
kissing down the curve of my neck; my dress came up in the next motion. “It’s a
good idea, a very good
dirty
idea. We like dirty, remember?” Jameson
groaned against my neck, pushing his hips into mine. “Dirty is good.”

Yes
...
I remember very well,
but this in fact is a bad idea.

There Jameson and I
were up against the billboards on the other side of the track with the World of
Outlaws on the track, racing the C-Feature event. Jameson would be racing in
the A-Feature because miraculously, Justin brought a sprint car for him. All
part of their plan I think.

I got sidetracked, back
to what’s important.

There was nobody out
here but us and on the other side of this billboard, five thousand screaming
fans watching a race at a track Jameson and I ran. But here we were, going at
it against the billboards.

It’s no wonder I got
knocked up.

“Jameson
...
” I breathed when his mouth went to my
collarbone. “We should probably get back.”

He shook his head and
growled. Fucking growled. “No,” both hands cupped my face. “I
want
you.”
His wet cool mouth moved from my lips to my jaw, down my neck and then bit down
on my shoulder.

“You just had me not
more than two hours ago.”

“I don’t care.” He said
shaking his head. “
you
shouldn’t have worn this
dress.” Jameson’s hands reached up as though he was going to pull my panties
off and then chuckled against my lips. “Oh yeah, I have those.” Another chuckle
escaped him before he deepened the kiss.

Wrapping my legs around
his waist, I dug my heels into his ass. He groaned fumbling with the button of
his jeans, trying desperately to free the eager camshaft. Struggling with this,
he shifted my weight to one hand, pushing his leg under my ass to support me.
The other one slammed against the billboard in frustration.

“Damn it.”

“Hey, calm down.” I
reached between us. “Look here
...
let
me help.”

“Sorry
...
I just want you, right now.” He growled
attacking my neck with kisses. “I can’t wait.”

“Here
...
see, not that hard.”

“I am hard!” Jameson
responded defensively.

“Jesus Christ Jameson!
I was talking about getting your pants off, not your camshaft.”

“Oh,” he mumbled
positioning for boring. But he didn’t slip it in right away, instead he
lubricated it, sliding back and forth against my oil slickened crankcase,
teasing with reciprocating motions.

“Jameson,” I warned. He
knew I didn’t care for assembly prep. I wanted to get to the good stuff.
Assembly was for virgins in my mind.

He chuckled pressing me
hard into the
Coors Light
billboard we were press forging against.

It was impossible for
me to record the sounds that issued from both of our mouths. Moans and groans
mixed in between sounds that were so close to sobs that I would’ve been worried
if I was not so focused on my own pleasure. Our eyes never broke contact and I
could see the uncontained lust in Jameson’s, mirroring my own, the pale
moonlight illuminating the spark between us.

His hands never stayed
in one place long, instead they lingered over my entire body, seemingly
touching everywhere at one. He held me, caressed me, felt me, embraced me
...
it was as though his hands were trying
to memorize the feeling knowing our time was limited.

I moaned indecipherably
arching my back against the billboard with a new intensity, breaking our
rhythm.

I felt him twitch at
the change in pace and knew that he, too, was close. “So close
...
” was his assuring
reply.

The rumbling of the
engines on the other side of the billboard, vibrating my entire body only
heightened the sensations.

“FUCK!” I moaned,
though it sounded more like a shout or some sound a dying cat would make.
Without realizing it, I pulled him impossibly closer to me, my arms around his
shoulders, our chests colliding.

Removing my lips from
his, biting down on his neck, sucking as I felt the rapid beating of his pulse
under my tongue. My eyes clenched together so hard I could see stars, my heart
felt like it was going to explode.

A whimper of pleasure
escaped me as my orgasm coursed through me. At some point, I realized that
Jameson must have too, as I could feel his heartbeat slowing, his muscles
relaxing. He looked up at me from there, flushed skin under the moonlight,
swollen lips, and deep purple love bite—my mark on him.

My shaking fingers
traced along it. “Sway three. Jameson two.”

His eyebrows arched
setting me down, eyeing my hair. “Nice sex hair.”

Damn it.

His hand brushed over
my cheek, his thumb swept softly across my lower lip. A grin formed. “We’re
tied again honey.”

We made it back around
to the pits after our abrupt disappearance to find Spencer smiling at us.

“What?” Jameson snapped
walking toward his sprint car to get ready for the race. “Why are you so
smiley?”

“Charlie fired the
flagger. Someone needs to go flag the next race
...
and well
...
Emma
is up there so
...
” his smile grew. “I
don’t think I need to say the rest.”

Shit!

Jameson turned toward
me. “Can you go take care of that?”

“Why
me?
You’re the owner.”

He nodded. “Yes
...
but you’re the general manager and well,
I have to race so you get this one.” His smile matched his brother’s.

“That’s hardly fair.”
Tommy walked by and smacked the back of my head.

“I think it’s fair.”
Jameson kicked his leg out tripping Tommy. He fell forward into a set of rear
tires.

“Jerks,” I grumbled
referring to him and Tommy.

“I love you!” He
shouted before climbing inside his sprint car.

I found Emma where
Spencer said she was, enthusiastically waving the flag for the B-Feature event.
The rumbling in the distance of the cars lining up for the A-Feature caught my
attention for a moment. When I turned around, I noticed Emma wasn’t doing a bad
job. More importantly, she appeared as though she was having a good time.

Charlie walked past,
his cell phone in hand.

“Who are you talking
to?” I asked. He never talked on his cell phone unless I call it.

“How the fuck should I
know.” He grumbled throwing his free hand up in the air. “I don’t know how
these people get my number.”

“Who?”

“The person on the
other line,”

“Oh,” I shook my head
trying to make sense of all this. “Why did you fire Hank?”

“Sway, life isn’t
always shits and giggles.” His eyes narrowed making me feel like a child.
“Sometimes you have to be the bad guy
...
or
the shit.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” the
person on the other line must have said something because Charlie was now
glaring at his phone. “Who the fuck is this?” he paused and then said, “oh
...
well yes, I know a Logan and no you
can’t talk to him
...
Why?
...
because he’s six fucking years old
asshole, that’s why!”

Seeming annoyed, he
hung up.

“Where’s the little
bastard Logan?” Charlie shouted.

“Try under the
grandstands!” I yelled watching him disappear into the crowd.

And to think, we still
had to get through the feature event and the concert afterwards.

Emma continued to flag
the rest of the race and actually did a good job. I ran around after Charlie
making sure no one else was fired; called Hank and gave him his job back and
warned Logan to stop stealing people’s phones, especially Charlie’s if he
wanted to see seven.

By the A-Feature event,
I was exhausted.

I forgot all about the
exhaustion when a familiar sight, something I hadn’t seen in years, appeared.
Jameson Riley, in a fire breathing winged sprint car, made his way onto his
home track with the sounds of
Welcome to the Jungle
blaring over the
speakers.

I listened carefully as
they announced the starting line-up, knowing the way my heartbeat would quicken
with the mention of his name.

“Ladies and Gentlemen
...
your starting line-up for the World of
Outlaws
...
inside on the pole for
the tenth time this season we have the
Edan
Manufacturing double zero of Jimi Riley! On the outside we have none other than
his son, NASCAR Winston Cup driver, and the owner of this fine facility,
driving the JAR Racing Simplex number nine
...
Jameson
Riley!”