Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (59 page)

I tried to reach behind
me to help Jameson out with his need as well since his magical fingers were
sending me over the edge.

“No,” he shook his
head. “Just you
...
”

My high-pitched hyena
cries peaked a few seconds later as I moved my hips against his hand. While
doing this, Jameson added his own reciprocating motions. It just added to the
entire experience of being manhandled by my dirty heathen and I let go because
I knew he was enjoying it as well.

Now I’ve never gave a
man an orgasm by just rubbing my ass against him, other than the time Jameson
and I woke up in a sleeping bag together after a race the summer he won the
USAC Triple Crown, but in the land of the
knocked-up-naughty-bed-ridden-pigizzle, there was a first time for everything.

Or a
second time if you counted the first.

I didn’t realize this
was happening until I heard him gasp loudly, his arms tightened around me; and
felt his entire body clench and begin to shake and tremble right along with me
as he growled out “Oh fuck,” against my shoulder and pull my hips harder
against his.

That was by far the
best reciprocating motion assessment I had ever experienced.

“Did you?” I don’t know
why I asked, I could feel the warm sticky mess on my ass and back.

He didn’t answer me
just let out a deep breath like he’d been holding it and rolled onto his back,
right off the bed.

“Fuck
...
”

“Hey, where did you
go?”

“I fell.”

“Poor dirty
heathen,”                                                                                           

I didn’t offer to help
him up. Instead, I reached for the Chunky Monkey and began eating my ice cream
once again. My flailing spaz was letting me know it was time.

Jameson
peeked
his head up from the floor. “That’s okay
...
I’m all right. Thanks for checking.”

“No problem.” I mumbled
with my mouth full.

After showering once again,
without the bubble brigade, I decided it was time to change my sheets since I
got them dirty. This has me smiling all the way down the hall to the laundry
room. Once I entered the laundry room, I spotted Emma in there doing laundry of
course bouncing up and down while she shook her ass to the music blaring
through her iPod.

Watching this for a
moment, just confirmed my testament that the crazier you are, the more calories
you burned. She never stopped fucking moving, even in her sleep. That’s why psychos
are always so skinny, they never stop moving.

“What are you doing?”
she asked nonchalantly looking at my sheets yanking her headphones out.

“What does it look like
captain obvious?”

“What happened
...
did you pee the bed?” she teased
smirking folding a pair of jeans.

I’ve had about enough
of Emma in the last three weeks. Between the road trip from hell, the biker
bar, the taint tank, the endless amount of Britney Spears songs, her stalker
tendencies toward Miley Cyrus and her obsessive lotion fetish, I snapped.

“No,” I smiled widely.
I used this smile once before when my political economics professor in college
told me not to come to his class drunk anymore. “But they do have your
brother’s
jizz
on them.”

She was obviously not prepared
for my response. Her features surprised, shocked even. When it finally dawned
on her what I said, she had a reaction similar to the cameraman in those
Jackass
movies when Steve-O shits himself.

“Oh my god!” she was
screeching and retching and gagging and a lot of other concerning noises. “I’m
gonna be sick.”

And what did I do next?

I tossed the sheets on
top of her and laughed my ass off. I was laughing because the gagging motion
she was making strangely resembled Mr. Jangles when he was trying to cough up a
hairball. It was also incredibly rewarding after everything she’d put me
through recently.

“That
...
is
...
so
...
” more retching and other weird noises
I’ve never heard a human make. “Gross
...
”
she didn’t make it and ran full speed for her size to the bathroom.

Mission accomplished.

I trotted back to my
room to get dressed. I had a doctor’s appointment in less than an hour so I
thought it was time to actually put on clothes besides sweat pants and tank
tops. I was becoming good at being lazy.

Once dressed, I met
Jameson downstairs in the living room where he was sitting with Charlie. I
caught the last half of their conversation when I finished waddling over to
Jameson.

“
...
you’ll win. There’s no way Tate can
catch you.” Charlie told Jameson. “Even if you do finish last the next few
races, you’ll win.”

When I yelled at
Jameson a few weeks ago for
punking
out, I had no
idea that would turn into the determined heathen he’d become. Charlie was
right; no one stood a chance against him now. All that frustration, all those
fears he had, all those emotions he felt about what Darrin had done to us had
now been turned into determination to become a champion and prove the world
wrong.

I wasn’t sure if he’d
moved on, but he had channeled his anger.

“Yeah,” Jameson mumbled
running his hand across his jaw. I made him keep the beard, I kind of like it
for now. “I don’t wanna get my hopes up but I think I got it under wraps.”

“You do son.” Charlie
stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a nap to tend to.” He tipped his head
toward us and then proceeded up the stairs with Mr. Jangles in tow.

Charlie slept a lot
these days, he also reminded me of Mr. Jangles. Every time I turned around he
was taking a nap but Andrea told me this was normal. If there was one good
thing about this bed rest, it was being around Charlie more. He’d also become a
reality TV whore just like Emma and me. We all fit in nicely together.

I felt bad for Van
having to endure not only Emma, but also all of us watching reality TV all day
long, and the endless amounts of ice cream we all consumed. Charlie had yet to
try all the flavors of Ben and Jerry ice cream we’d tried. He had some catching
up to do. Van also gave in when he finally tasted their Mud Pie flavor. So we
were now a bunch of reality TV whores and Ben and Jerry taste testers. If you
put all four of our weight gains together, we equaled a tiny person named Ben
or Jerry, whomever you prefer.

Van was also not very
happy about that.
Something about running ten miles a day and
feeling fat jiggle.
I wanted to ask him how he thought I felt but
didn’t. I’m sure, by my frequent complaining, he knew my thoughts on getting
jiggly
.

Just as we were about
to leave for my appointment, Emma finally came out of the bathroom with a wash
cloth attached to her as she frantically scrubbed her skin. She obviously
didn’t rub the self-tanner in very well, but how could she of known to?

Anyhow, now she just
looked like that clown fish off Finding
Nemo
with
strips of orange and white and once again, smelled like burnt popcorn. She used
an excessive amount too, but yet again, it’s not like she knew what exactly she
was lathering up with.

Jameson and I both
burst into laughter but as soon as Emma spotted Jameson, she started gagging
again and ran back to the bathroom without saying anything.

Finally, something has
made her speechless.

“What was that about?”
Jameson asked through shakes of laughter, his arm slung around my shoulders.

I couldn’t stop laughing
long enough to actually tell him what I did so I just simply waved around like
a peacock with my arms flailing trying to tell him. I eventually gave up and
just sat there laughing with him until I needed to change my underwear because
I once again,
peed
my pants.

On the way to my
appointment, Jameson took a detour that led us to Summit Lake. He spotted a for
sale sign off Highway 8, so he followed it and then found ourselves at one of
the most beautiful homes I had ever seen.

I fell in love immediately
in the kitchen and its dark cherry cabinets and black granite countertops. I
was already imagining a repeat performance of the Sway Banana Split.

The house was beautiful
but way too fucking expensive. I almost went into labor at the price. Seeing how
we already had one home in Mooresville, I hardly saw the need for one so
expensive here but I also knew I couldn’t stand living in the same house with
the Lucifer twins much longer.

We walked through the
house after I told him I didn’t want to but of course he threw out the smirk, I
gave in despite myself.

I finally told him my
worries when we were standing in the back yard looking at the view of Summit
Lake from the homes’ private dock.

“We can’t afford this
place.”

“We can, we—”

“No, we can’t, we have
a baby coming and we already have a house in Mooresville.” I interjected,
whirling to face him. He stared down at me with an amused expression. The
setting sun was illuminating the rusty highlights in his scruff along his sharp
defined jaw.

“We can. I—” he started
again, and I shook my head.

“Jameson, you’re—” I
began, but stopped when he pressed his fingers against my mouth.

“Keep interrupting me
and watch how fast you get tossed in that lake,” he warned with a twinkle in
his eyes. I just smiled so he continued. “Sway, we
can
afford it. If you
forgot, I’m a huge NASCAR star and soon to be champion.” He finished breaking
out into his signature-crooked grin. “We can do this.”

“You’re pretty
confident you’re going to win there, huh?”

“I have no doubt in my
mind I’m going to win.”

“Jesus,” I rolled my
eyes when he winked. “If your head was any bigger it’d need its own zip code.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Fine
...
we’ll get the house, but you’re buying
it money bags.”

“House for us?” he pulled
me against his chest looking down at me.

“Yes
...
house for us.”

Alternator –
Jameson

In bed with Sway was
torture.
Pure fucking torture.
Sure, we had messed
around numerous times today but this was hell. All I wanted was to make love to
her, but no
...
no
penetration for
another eight weeks. No matter how hard I tried, it’s all I thought about when
she was close to me. I felt every touch, every kiss with a burning intensity
that didn’t fail to shake me to my core every single time.

“I hate this,” I groaned
throwing myself back on the bed.

“Hate what?” Her eyes
were still glued to that retarded reality TV show she was watching.

“This,” I motioned
toward my straining erection. “This is like that goddamn summer all over
again.”

“Huh?”

“Our summer, it’s like
reliving it all over again.”

“What are you talking
about?” her brow creased as she turned her head to look at me.

I sighed dramatically
throwing my arms over my face. I couldn’t believe she didn’t remember but how
could she really? I never said anything. I never told her how it was her that I
imagined with me intimately back then. She had no idea of all the countless on
nightstands I had; I was imagining her as those women. I even went as far as
saying her name one time in the heat of the moment with another woman. I think
at that point, I realized my feelings might be deeper than purely physical
desires.

“Staying away from you,
do you know how
hard
that was for me?” I told her after a few moments.

“Apparently not
...
”

“Well, do you remember
that time outside of Williams Grove when you fell asleep on my lap and we woke
up like that the next morning? You complained about my
...
uh
...
flash
light as you called it, digging into your hip.”

She giggled like I
thought she would.

“Yeah
...
not
a flashlight,”

“Wow,” was all she
said.

“Wow what?”

“I didn’t know you were
attracted to me back then. I mean, I know we made out occasionally but I guess
I just thought maybe it was a means to an end or something.”

I groaned wrapping my
arms around her waist, pulling her on top of me. “I don’t know how many times I
have to tell you this
...
but I’ve
always
been attracted to you in the worst way.” I intoned. “I didn’t know what those
feelings meant for a long time. That summer
...
”
I shook my head at the thought. “Watching you run around in those tiny jeans
shorts you wore all the time and those skimpy tank tops, it was hell.”