Dangerous Curves Ahead (Watchers Crew) (11 page)

I opened my legs and wrapped them around his waist. His penis behaved, aiming up instead of arrowing inside of me. I didn’t hide my disappointment.

Christopher set me down on the bed and toweled me off. He paid particular attention to my breasts again. I felt the flutters rising within me.

“Careful, you’re getting a little too excited, princess. We don’t want to make a mistake.”

I struggled to remember why that was a bad thing. Then I remembered our deal. We were dating. Well, he was dating me. I’d already planned out our life together. In my mind, my belly was swollen with child number three. My mind would not let go of the idea that I was going to marry this man. It didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in the institution.

For Christopher, dating meant dinner, conversation, and kissing. Kissing anywhere on my body. We’d only been at it for a day. We’d had the house to ourselves. He’d made dinner. There’d been light conversation. But mostly, there was kissing.

“You are so sensitive.” He pressed my thighs together, and then pressed a kiss to my lips. “I could play with you all day, princess. But I have to go to work.”

“You won’t be late. It’s just a few steps from your house.”

“No, my other job.”

“Your mom won’t mind if you’re late,” I said. “She likes me.”
He stood and passed a grin over his shoulder before turning away from me. “I don’t work at my mom’s store.”

I lay naked on this man’s bed, in a house he shared with other men I didn’t really know, and I had no idea how he spent his days.

As though sensing my confusion, Christopher came over to the bed. “I race cars.”

“Like for NASCAR?”

He chuckled. “No. Street racing.”

My brows furled. “Is that legal?”

He waggled his head. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no.”

So that was that. The guy I’d mentally planned my life with, the guy I now had two kids with and was working on number three, that guy was a quasi-criminal. I didn't know what I’d tell the children. He wouldn’t be able to go to Career Day at their elementary school.

“You’re freaking out, aren’t you?” He grasped both my hands and pulled me up until I was sitting before him. Now that I was leveled with his eyes, I saw that there was a speck of wariness there.

I reached up and ran my hand over his eyelids. He let me, turning his face into my fingers and pressing his lips into my palm. My heart squeezed as hard as my core had moments ago.

“I’m not freaking out,” I said.

His lips quirked up. That mischievous grin told me he knew I wasn’t telling him the whole truth.

Instead of owning up to it, I decided to change the conversation. “I’m just thinking about my own work. I’m having trouble with the middle of the book.”

“Tell me. Maybe I can help.” He went into his dresser and pulled a pair of jeans out of a drawer. He stepped into them. Commando.

I stood and pulled my bra and panties on. “The story is an ugly duckling trope.”

He snorted as he put his arms into a button-up shirt. “You amaze me. I don’t know how you write these things you know absolutely nothing about?”

I peered at him. He didn’t appear to be joking. He truly didn’t see how I didn’t know the ugly duckling trope. How could I not be falling for this guy? I pulled my dress over my head and then continued the sketchy tale that was my steamy novel.

“The guy is popular and handsome,” I said. “He approaches the heroine because of a joke. Then it turns out he needs her help. And then he starts to have feelings for her.”

“I like it.” Christopher came around the bed and buttoned up the back of my dress. “Let me guess what happens next. The friends and families get in the way of their love? They try to break them apart?”

I nodded. “They’re from different worlds, so yes.”

He turned me to face him. “I don’t see what the problem is?”

“I’m in the middle of the story and it’s sagging. I started off with a bang, but I’ve lost momentum. I can’t figure out where to go next. If I go too fast, it might feel like I’ve missed all the details of why they fell in love. We call that the Fun and Games section in romance writing. If I go too slow, I risk getting too deep into the details and the readers will get bored and might put the book down.”

“It sounds like racing,” he said, putting his arms around me. “When you’re at the starting line, there’s always some jerk-off who revs his engine to show his balls are bigger. It gets attention. But if you rev too high before you take off, you can loose traction and the tires will spin out and you lose all power.”

“So, how do you win?”

“You gotta pace yourself. You gotta know where the sweet spot is. And when you find it, you gotta take your foot off the brake and go full throttle. Wanna see? Come with me to the race.”

Chapter Fifteen

There were women’s booties everywhere that I looked. In threadbare skirts that were knit crochets. In Daisy Dukes riding up their crotches. In skirts I would bet were originally used as headbands. The women were all draped on cars like in the magazines. Or in men’s laps like in porn videos.

“Hey Crow.” A girl wearing a bright yellow bandanna over her ass sauntered over. “Want a tune-up before you get behind the wheel?”

Christopher grinned at her. “I’m good. My girlfriend took care me this morning.”

The girl’s eyebrows rose. I turned redder than the candy apple convertible she sat upon. I didn’t know what shocked me most? That this girl publicly announced that she wanted sex? That Christopher publicly announced that we’d been intimate this morning? Or that he called me his girlfriend.

Christopher pulled me into his side. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and bussed my forehead. The girl shrugged and went to the next car and its driver.

“Stop playing footsie, Crow," Eagle shouted from across the way. “We got work to do.”

Eagle’s eyes landed on me before he ducked into the racecar. Leaning against the hood of Crow’s racecar, I saw Ellie and Hawk kissing like no one was watching. Next to Ellie and Hawk, I saw a black woman and an Asian man leaning into each other.

Christopher brought me over to them. “MK, you know Eagle, Ellie, and Hawk. This is my other brother, Owl, and his girlfriend, Shakira.”

Owl nodded, his dark eyes bright and welcoming.

Shakira looked me up and down. “I didn’t believe it when Ellie told me Crow brought a girl home. You’re nothing like I imagined.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted? Shakira cocked her head to the side and continued to stare at me. She didn’t frown. It was an assessment. I tried not to take it personally that the two African-American family members didn’t take to me immediately.

“Don’t worry, she said the same thing about me a few months ago.” Ellie came around the car to join us.

“I told you then that Hawk would eat you up and spit you out,” said Shakira. “I was half right.”

The two women looked over at Hawk. Hawk winked at Shakira and blew Ellie a kiss. I looked at the two women and wondered if they shared their men. They stood together like they were friends, sisters from different mothers. The men laughed and joked like they were family. It was clear that not a single one of them shared parents.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking, sis,” said Shakira. “How are we cool if we’re sharing dicks? I felt the same way at first. I’ve been cheated on by every man I’ve ever been with.”

“So now you’re with a guy who does it in your face with your friend?” The words were out before I could take them back. Mercifully, neither girl looked upset.

“Not at first,” said Shakira. “Owl, and I broke up because I couldn’t handle it.”

“I don’t believe all men cheat,” said Ellie. “I have fidelity and freedom in my relationship with Hawk. There’s gender equality in poly relationships.”

Is that what this was? I’d heard about polyamory. Mainly from television shows on cable. It was a religious thing. Mormons in Utah. Muslims in the Middle East. Even some countries in Africa.

“You do know that the guys are all polyamourous?” Ellie asked.

“No, they’re not.” Shakira sighed as though she were talking to a child. “They’re all kinky freaks that like to fuck anything with a cunt.”

She said it with exasperation, but there was no bite to her tone. Well, not much.

“Calling them polyamorous,” Shakira continued, “implies they love and commit to all the women they fuck. Hawk loves Ellie and Owl loves me. I like fucking Hawk. Dude has a monster dick. And Eagle plays some wicked games.”

Shakira glanced over at Eagle who was behind the wheel of Crow’s car. Eagle caught her eye and licked his lips.

Owl looked between the two and chuckled. There was no jealousy in his gaze. He looked back at Shakira the same way my grandfather would gaze at my grandmother, like how Christopher looked at me the night he asked to date me.

I looked over to Christopher. He was bent under the hood beside Hawk. Another girl came over to them. Christopher smiled at her. She reached out and ran a hand down his bicep. He didn’t remove it.

He’d said he liked sexual things I might never be ready for. Polyamory, open relationships, kinky sex, these were indeed things I might never be ready for.

I looked away from Christopher and into Shakira’s watchful gaze. Her raised eyebrow said she knew this was too much for me and she was expecting me to bolt.

Ellie placed her hand on my shoulder. It was a friendly gesture. “You and Crow should talk about this,” Ellie said. “Set boundaries.”

I looked back at Christopher. He was shaking his head at the girl. She pouted and took off. He returned his attention to his engine.

“He said he wants to date me,” I said.

Ellie nodded encouragingly. “Crow’s a good guy. Funny, child-like, sometimes. Unfailingly honest all the time.”

That was good to know. But had I set any boundaries? Other than not breaking my hymen? We’d never clearly defined the boundary between his cock and other women. I hadn’t told him that I’d already set a picket fence around us in my mind. That fence was the boundary I wanted someday.

I looked at Ellie. “Is this a fling for you? With Hawk? Or is this the real deal?”

Her eyes softened. “It’s the real deal for me. It’s true love.”

I looked to Shakira. Her gaze was hard and sharp.

“That true love bullshit makes your pulse race and your heart pound,” she said. “Who wants that all the time? I’ll take trust. Trust is a warm blanket on a cold night, like a dog. It doesn’t let you down. Shit, listen to me.”

“But don’t you believe in soul mates?” I asked her. Didn’t all women? That there was one person in the world meant solely for you.

Ellie nodded enthusiastically.

Shakira shrugged. “I can see myself spending the rest of my life with Owl.”

“Hawk is my soul mate,” said Ellie. “But even though he’s my soul mate, I do enjoy having sex with other men. Not sex for sex’s sake. I need a connection with someone to have sex.”

Shakira nodded at Ellie’s words as though she agreed.

 I didn’t know what to think of any of the words they were saying. These looked like two confident, well-adjusted, beautiful women. But they let their men be with other women. They themselves were with other men. I didn’t understand that.

“It’s called compersion,” said Ellie as though that was a real word.

Shakira rolled her eyes. “You got her totally in nerd mode now. Buckle in. This may take a while.”

Ellie ignored her. “Compersion is when a partner derives pleasure when the other receives sexual pleasure from another.”

I couldn’t imagine any pleasure in knowing that my boyfriend was having sex with another woman.

“Hawk has regular sex partners,” said Ellie.

“Like Mrs. Robinson.” Shakira said.

“That’s not her real name. That’s just what we call her. Mrs. Robinson likes it rough,” Ellie explained. “Neither Kira nor I like that kind of stuff. So, the guys play rough with her.”

“Don’t you get jealous?” I asked.

“I do,” said Shakira. “But that’s just my nature. Owl knows I don’t like being ignored. He gives me a lot of time and attention. And orgasms. It’s hard to be mad when you’re coming.”

“No,” Ellie said. “I don’t get jealous of Hawk having sex with other women. I get jealous of the time he spends working on his car or hanging out with the guys. That’s the type of quality time that I want with him.”

Behind us, the engines roared. I turned to see Christopher behind the wheel of his car. He caught my eye and blew me a kiss before heading off to the start line.

A girl in hot pink booty shorts walked up to us. “There are the Watchers Crew sluts.”

Shakira stepped in front of me. Her hands came to her hips in a defensive posture. “What’s the matter? Sad you’re not invited to the party?”

“Can I come to the party?” A guy came up to me. “I’d like to spread those sweet thighs.”

He reached out to touch me. Before his hand made contact, I heard bones crack.

Hawk appeared out of nowhere. He engulfed the man’s fingers in his huge paw. The man whimpered and then crumbled to the ground.

“Did you have permission to touch that piece of tail?”

I jerked back. It was like being slapped on both sides of my face. On the left side, from the brutality of Hawk’s actions. On the right side, from the degrading words. I was not a piece of tail.

The man couldn’t answer Hawk. He sobbed as bones continued to crunch.

“In some societies,” continued Hawk, “you get your hand chopped off for touching what belongs to another man.”

“Sorry,” the man whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

“Not to me, dip shit.”

The man’s eyes rose to mine. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Now, you do.” Hawk shoved the man away. “Don’t ever touch my brother’s property.”

The man scrambled off.

I opened my mouth to deny that I was anyone’s property. But the words were stifled by the truth. I wanted to belong to Christopher. I wanted to be his piece of tail. I didn’t want anyone else touching me. I didn’t want anyone else touching him. I wanted to break off the finger of that woman who had touched his bicep before.

Hawk turned to me. “You okay, Mary Katherine?” He placed his thumb on my face, tilting up my cheek to check for bruises.