Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) (17 page)

“But we’re not kids any more, are we Enzo?” I ask, “We’ve
got work to do. And I think I could do mine better if I went on ahead to
London.”

“I trust your judgment Siena,” Dad says, “You don’t want to
be cooped up with us, anyway. Your mother will probably be worrying up a storm,
as ever. You should get out while you still can. We’ll be fine in Italy, and we
can meet up with you in London in a couple of weeks.”

Enzo stares at me long and hard. I don’t even have to look
at him to know that he’s scrutinizing me, looking straight through me. Why do I
get the feeling that he knows exactly what I’m up to, scampering ahead to
London without my family? My team?

“You should do whatever you think is best,” he says, his
voice hard and quiet, “I’m sure we
will
get along just fine without you.”

His casual dismissal cuts me to the quick. He knows me too
well to be fooled into thinking that I’m giving up Harrison without a fight.
And right now, I’m sure he’s well aware of the choice I’m making by not going
along to Italy. What I don’t know is exactly how much he hates me for that
choice.

I make a beeline up to my hotel room the second we’re back.
I’ve finally come to my decision about London. Closing the door tightly behind
me, I whip out my cell and punch in Harrison’s number—the only one I have
committed to memory. He picks up immediately, and the sound of his voice puts
my raw heart at ease. 

“I was waiting for you to call like a bloody school boy,
perching by the phone,” he drawls. “You’re making me soft, Lazio.”

“Funny, I thought I did just the opposite,” I say, smiling
into the phone.

“Did you talk to your family?” he asks, refusing to beat
around the bush.

“I did,” I answer.

“And?” Harrison asks.

“And they’re going back to Italy through Enzo’s suspension.
My, uh...My dad probably won’t leave again for the rest of the tour, once he’s
there. He’s starting to feel his symptoms. You know.”

“Oh, Siena...” Harrison says, “If you want to be with him—”

“I will, in time. And he has plenty of people surrounding
him,” I say, “You, on the other hand, need some company. And I need to be with
you, right now. I want to be with you.”

“I want that too, more than anything.”

“It’s settled then,” I tell him, “I’ll be seeing you in
London, Mr. Davies.”

“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” Charlie asks, pouting
dramatically as the Ferrelli jet sidles up the runway.

“I’m sure. This is for the best, Charlie,” I tell him.

We stand together in the airport terminal, far away from the
bustle of baggage and team members scrambling for a seat on the plane. Team
Ferrelli is headed to Italy for a little R and R before the London Grand Prix.
But despite the fact that they’re shipping off to relax, the tension in the air
is thick. Missing one race won’t kill Enzo’s point count, but it’s hardly
something that anyone can be happy about. Right now, my brother and Team
Ferrelli are both in first place while Harrison and McClain hold second. But
those outcomes were forecasted from the beginning—it’s third place that has
everyone in a tizzy.

After the Moscow wreck, Rafael Marques secured first place,
moving ahead in points above both Sven Landers and Alexi Rostov. Marques is a
relatively new driver himself, and no one had him pegged as a contender this
year. But he’s quietly been racking up the points along the season so far. If
anything goes wrong and Enzo or Harrison is forced out of another race, Marques
might be able to unseat them for good.

“You don’t really think Marques will take the Luxembourg
Grand Prix, do you?” I ask Charlie, thinking aloud.

“I don’t know, Bex,” Charlie says, “He’s a sneaky one. I
barely even noticed him moving into third place. And he’s a decent driver too.
Not the fastest, but an opportunist if I ever saw one.”

“And a disgusting, arrogant chauvinist,” I say, rolling my
eyes.

“Ah, she’s sweet talking me!” says a rich voice from behind
us.

Charlie and I turn and spot Rafael Marques making his way
across the terminal, flanked by teammates and admirers. I feel my face fold
into a scowl at the sight of him. Marques has never said two words to me that
didn’t make me want to punch him in the throat.

“What did I tell you about the Moscow race, eh?” Marques
says, coming to stand before me and Charlie. “I took first after all. Wish you
could have been there to share in the champagne.”

“I was a little busy making sure my brother wasn’t dead,” I
drawl, “He’s doing fine, by the way. Thanks for your concern.”

“I knew he’d be fine,” Marques sniffs, “He caused the wreck,
after all, he was in control of it. Damned foolish thing to do, if you ask me.
And very peculiar, intentionally crashing into another driver for no reason at
all. Don’t you find that strange, Siena?”

“What are you driving at, Marques?” I snap.

“Just that it’s curious,” he smiles, “Very curious. Anyway,
we must be off. Have a few press appearances in Luxembourg lined up. Everyone
wants to talk to the man who’s going to win this tournament out from under your
brother, apparently.”

“Get a grip, Marques,” I say.

“Gladly,” he sneers, moving his hand mockingly toward my
ass.

“Hey,” Charlie growls, knocking the driver’s hand away,
“Watch your step, buddy.”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” Marques asks Charlie, smiling
condescendingly.

“I’m Charlie Spano. Son of Augustus Spano. Friend of
Siena’s.”

“Awfully protective, for just a friend,” Marques sniffs,
“Not like I give even the slightest shit. See you around, my darling.”

“God, I hope not,” I say to his retreating back.

“What an ass,” Charlie says, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about him,” I say, “Just take care of my dad
and Enzo for me while I’m in London, OK?”

“Of course.”

“And do your best to keep an eye on Bex as well,” I wink,
“Think you can handle her?”

“I’m up for the challenge,” Charlie grins, “That’s about as
much as I can promise you.”

“Did someone call for me?” Bex asks, bounding up beside us.
Her arms are loaded with airplane snacks of every shape and form.

“Just wanted to say goodbye,” I tell her, wrapping my arms
around the candy mountain she’s lugging around. “Have a good time in Italy.”

“Have a good time in London,” she says pointedly.

We can’t talk much about my decision to stay with Harrison
while Charlie’s here. I made Bex promise not to breathe a word of my
relationship with McClain’s top driver to Charlie. Even though it would be hard
to imagine that he’s behind those illicit pictures at this point, you just
never know. I don’t want to take any chances with Charlie liable to fly off the
handle over my secret.

I give Charlie a quick hug and watch him make his way onto
the tarmac with Bex. Just as they’re about to disappear from my sight, I watch
as he cups her hand in his. The sweet gesture almost breaks my heart for
wanting to be with my own man, as soon as humanly possible. All I need now is
to say goodbye to Enzo, and then I can be on my way to London. I look around
the terminal for him, hoping to catch his ear before he leaves. When my eyes
finally alight on that brother of mine, I let my eyes roll mightily. He’s
standing across the long terminal from me, deep in conversation with a certain
voluptuous blonde.

“Yo! Enzo!” I shout across the lofty space.

My brother manages to rip his eyes away from Shelby,
McClain’s resident social media whiz. He gives me a quick wave and turns back
to his lady friend, undeterred. I spot a few other McClain team members milling
about—their jet must be leaving from here as well. I want to make sure to catch
a glimpse of Harrison setting off. If we’re both seen at the airport this
morning, people will be less likely to imagine that we’ve headed off to be
together.

I look on in disgust as Enzo pulls Shelby into an embrace.
They kiss as passionately as any long lost lovers in the movies. What the hell
is this girl up to? I still haven’t dismissed that she too, might be
responsible for my blackmail after all. She’s got no business in my brother’s
bed, that much is for sure. Enzo finally detaches himself from a tearful Shelby
and makes his way over to me.

“You’re going to see each other in two weeks,” I remind him,
“Do we all really need to watch your gross PDA?”

“Are you trying to lecture me on decorum, little sister?”
Enzo snaps.

“Don’t throw that in my face every time I speak,” I tell
him.

“Sorry,” Enzo says, “It’s just awfully ironic, I guess.”

“Will you take care of Dad for me?” I ask, ignoring his dig.

“Sure,” Enzo says, “At least one of us will be there for him
in his hour of need.”

“I’ve got work to do. Dad understands, and if anything
happens I can be there in a quick plane ride.”

“Oh please,” Enzo spits, “We both know why you’re going to
London, Siena. It’s to spend time playing nurse with that cocky pretty boy of
yours.”

“Keep your voice down,” I warn.

“Oh, I will,” Enzo says, “I’m ashamed of you for being with
him. I wouldn’t want anyone else to know. So please, for the love of god, try
and be discreet while you sleep with the enemy. You owe all of us that much,
especially Dad.”

“Why are you being so cruel about this?” I ask him, “Why
can’t you at least try and see things from my point of view?”

“Because you betrayed me, Siena,” Enzo says, “We’ve always
been best friends. Partners in crime. And you kept this from me.”

“Are you just upset that there’s another man in my life?
Someone else to be my best friend?” I ask.

“Of course not,” Enzo snaps, “I’m just embarrassed for you,
Siena. You could do so much better than that dumb jock.”

“One day, if you give him a chance, I think you might really
grow to like Harrison,” I say to Enzo.

“That, my dear sister, is positively delusional,” Enzo
sighs, “But I can’t stop you from throwing yourself at him, so...be careful.
Don’t do anything stupider than you’ve already done.”

“Goodbye to you too,” I say, as Dad appears across the
terminal.

We go to him, each taking an arm. He shakes us off like
gnats.

“Don’t treat me like a little old lady,” he grumbles.

“Sorry, Dad,” we say in unison.

“Will you at least swing by the house once Enzo’s back in
the tournament?” Dad asks me, “Since I won’t be tagging along on the trail, I
mean.”

“Of course, Daddy,” I say, wrapping my arms around him. I'm
alarmed to see how much smaller he’s already become. “I love you.”

“Come on, plane’s waiting,” Enzo says, carting my dad away
from me. I watch the pair of them make their way outside to the jet and climb
on board.

And that’s when I spot Harrison.

He’s strolling across the lobby toward his own jet,
entourage in tow. Andy and Cora follow along behind him while Shelby and Sara
chat animatedly to each other off to the side. As they head off onto the
runway, Harrison flicks his eyes in my direction. Those baby blue beacons tell
me that we’re all clear, that it’s time for me to go, too. I turn on my heel
and march out into the bright daylight. There’s a train with my name on it—a
train that’s going to take me to London. It’ll be a long trip, two days at
least, but what’s waiting on the other side will be more than worth it, that’s
for sure.

I’ve always been fond of train rides. As a kid, when we’d
spend time in Italy, I loved nothing more than visiting our neighboring towns
and cities by train. I’d plant my little hands on the glass, my nose
practically pressed up to the window, and watch as the country rolled along
before me. Italy is a beautiful place, the sight of which I’d know in a
heartbeat. However, the trip from Moscow to London is more exciting than any
other trip I’ve taken. The landscape is unfamiliar and new, I’m all alone, and
I have a gorgeous man waiting for me once I arrive. The tension of wanting to
be with Harrison once more, not to mention the scintillating daydreams that
flow into my mind in his absence, is almost too much to be borne. I can’t help
it. It’s just what he does to me.

When we finally arrive in London, I all but skip off the train.
In a heartbeat, I’ve hailed myself a black cab and am cruising through the
winding streets. Having spent so much time in New York, now being in a city
that’s not built on a grid is overwhelming to me. But despite Enzo’s warnings,
London is far from the foggy, drab mess he described. The city is sunny and
staggering beautiful, with the new and the old blending together to create
something entirely unique to behold. The cab whisks me along to Kensington, the
neighborhood Harrison calls home. My heart is hammering as we draw up to the
curb before an incredible town house.

“Here we are, Miss,” the cabby chirps, “Have someone waiting
for you?”

“Oh yes,” I tell him, passing what is probably way too much
money through the window, “Do I ever.”

I step out onto the sidewalk as my cab driver grabs my bags.
On wobbly knees, I make my way up the polished staircase and pause before the
thick oaken door. I’ve just raised my hand to rap on the door when it swings
open before me and Harrison Davies is revealed.

“There you are,” he says, his voice rasping and lusty, “Get
in here, you gorgeous thing.”

I happily oblige, falling over the threshold of the town
house and straight into Harrison’s waiting arms. He stiffens almost
imperceptibly as I squeeze onto him.

“Sorry, sorry,” I splutter, “Still recovering, right?”

“Still recovering, to be sure, but nothing to be sorry
about,” he says, pulling me into the townhouse and closing the door snugly
behind me.

I let my eyes trail all along his tall, perfectly-balanced
body. His dark wash blue jeans and charcoal gray tee shirt are the epitome of
simple stylish. I don’t know how he manages to look so good in the least
assuming clothes imaginable, but hey—he’s quite a special guy. And when I
finally lift my eyes back to his, I see right quick that he’s preoccupied with
my shape, too.

“How can two days feel so long?” I ask, running my hands
through his dark blonde hair.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he says, pulling me into a long
embrace, “Did you get here OK? Did anyone see you?”

“Not that I know of,” I say, “But I’m almost beyond caring
at this point. All that matters is that we’re finally here, together...In your
mansion
. Thanks for
the heads up.”

“It is not a mansion,” Harrison insists, looking around.

“Palace, then?” I ask, “Estate, maybe?”

“Whatever it is, it’s yours for the next two weeks,” he
tells me, “Or however long you’d like it.”

I look around the pristine, polished home of Harrison
Davies. With his bad boy persona, I’d expected something far less...put
together, that’s for sure. I wasn’t hoping for stripper poles and coke residue,
but this place is downright classy. The decor is sleek and minimal, which is a
wonderful contrast to the home’s elegant architecture. It’s funny, but this is
the sort of place I always pictured myself ending up. Not to be presumptuous or
anything...

“You must be wiped,” Harrison says, looking down into my
admittedly tired eyes.

“You’re the one recovering from a car wreck,” I remind him.

“I guess we could both stand to relax a little,” he smiles,
“But I think I have an idea.”

He grabs my hand in his broad, strong mitt and leads me
across the foyer, up the beautiful staircase. My lungs have to work overtime to
keep up with my excited anticipation at scaling the steps to Harrison’s second
story.

“I still can’t really believe I’m here,” I laugh, as we
climb the stairs. “If you had told me when we met in Barcelona...”

“I know,” Harrison says, looking back at me over his
shoulder, “It’s completely mad. But that’s what you do to me, Siena. You make
me a mad man.”

I pause on the stairs, tugging him back down to me. “If this
is madness, I don’t mind too much,” I tell him, my voice low.

In an instant, Harrison’s shifted me toward the staircase
wall. My back is pressed up against the ivory surface, and his beautiful eyes
are hard on mine. He takes a step toward me, pinning me to the wall with his
powerful hips. I plant my foot on the stair above us, letting him press in even
closer toward me.

“What happened to relaxation?” I ask, draping my arms over
Harrison’s broad shoulders.

“It’s overrated,” he tells me, lowering his lips to my neck,
“God, I’ve missed the taste of you. The sounds you make. I’ve missed feeling
you beneath me, Siena. I’ve just missed having you here.”

“I’m here now,” I say breathlessly, letting my fingers dig
into his back just a bit.

I’m glad that I chose to wear a simple pair of skinny jeans
and white tank today. There is so little separating my body from Harrison’s.
And here, in his home, we don’t have to worry. We don’t have to make excuses or
rush back to our own hotels. It’s just me and him for however long we please.
The thought is dizzying.

“Here’s what I think,” Harrison says, kissing along my
collarbone as he leans into me, “I think that we shouldn’t do anything but fuck
for the next week.”

“I can get down with that,” I laugh, closing my eyes as I
feel Harrison’s tongue run along the neckline of my shirt. I want to feel that
tongue everywhere again.

Harrison plants his hands on the wall above my shoulders,
pressing his body up against mine. I can feel how hard he’s already gotten,
feel him growing against my thigh with every passing moment.

“So tell me,” I breathe, grinding my hips against his
stiffening member, “How many women have you brought back to this place?”

“Honestly?” Harrison asks.

“Honestly,” I say.

He brings his mouth to my ear, closing his teeth down around
my earlobe. “Honestly...” he begins, “You’re the first woman who’s ever been
inside of this house. Apart from my mother and the occasional cleaning lady
that is.”

“Yeah, right,” I say, shoving him playfully away.

“I mean it,” Harrison insists, catching my wrists and
pinning them over my head, “I’m a motel, bar bathroom sort of lover, Siena. Or
at least I was until a certain someone wandered along.”

“You mean you’ve never...anywhere in here?” I ask, looking
around with wonder.

“That’s right,” Harrison says, running his hands down along
the sides of my body.

“Well then,” I say, taking his stubbly jaw in my hands, “We
have a lot of surfaces to cover, don’t we now?”

With a grin, Harrison scoops me up and plants me right there
on the stairs. My mouth finds his as he kneels before me. Our tongues seek each
other fervidly, glancing and gliding and entangling. I kick off my kitten heels
and spread my legs, letting Harrison’s hands move down along my thighs. I lean
back on the stairs, my hands whipping my tank up over my head. Harrison tears
off his tee shirt and crawls up to me. The feel of his bare abs against my
torso is warm, familiar...and so divine I could scream.

He kisses me deeply, earnestly, like he’s making up for lost
time. I arch my back and unclasp my own bra, tossing it away over the railing.
Harrison rips himself away from his kiss and lets his eyes take in the sight of
me, sprawled topless on the stairs before him. It’s too much for the man to
handle. He cups my ass in his strong hands and pulls me toward him, popping
open the button of my jeans with one flick of the
wrist.

Harrison slides my jeans and
panties down my legs, and all at once I’m naked before him. I pull myself up to
sitting on the smooth wooden staircase, shuddering at the illicit feel of
letting him see me here. As many times as we’ve had each other, each moment
with Harrison still feels new. I can feel my clit throbbing, aching for want of
him as he whips open his belt and discards his jeans and briefs.

“God, baby...” I whisper, my eyes latched onto the
staggering length of him, “How do I ever even manage to take you?”

“I have my ways,” he grins, kneeling on the steps before me.

I cry out as he lowers his mouth to my wet slit in one quick
motion. My mind spins as I feel his tongue part my pink flesh, licking along
the whole of me.

“Oh...Harrison...,” I gasp.

He presses my knees back, opening me to him even more. I
groan as his lips close around my hard clit, sucking at the tight little bundle
and sending ripples of sensation through my entire body. I buck my hips against
his masterful mouth, wanting nothing but to feel as much of him as I can.

“I love making you feel good, Siena,” he growls, tracing
tight little circles all around that aching button. “I love knowing that I can
make you come in an instant.”

“I hope you take longer than that,” I gasp, “I wish we could
stay like this forever.”

“So do I,” he says, running his fingertips across my
sensitive inner thighs, “The things we would get up to...”

My legs begin to tremble at the mere thought of it. I let my
knees fall open, right there on the staircase.

“Come here,” I command, grabbing onto his hips and pulling
him toward me.

He raises himself up to me, kissing me hard as he poises his
stiff member against me. I let out an ecstatic moan as he drives into me,
pinning me down onto the hardwood stairs. I wrap my arms around his shoulders
as he sinks deeper, wasting no time at all. Again and again we press into each
other, bucking wildly there on the stairs. I bite my lip as I feel him going
deeper and deeper, parting me on his hard, pulsating rod.

Daringly, I swing my legs up over his shoulders, a feat that
surprises even me. Harrison pauses a moment, amazed, looking down at me with
hunger and wonder both. I tilt my hips up, balancing against his sturdy body.
I’ve never had a man like Harrison, and certainly never like this. I take a
deep breath and wait to feel him again.

“Jesus!” I gasp, as Harrison pounds into me, “How can you go
so deep? I can feel you all the way through me.”

“I love seeing you like this,” he groans, pulling me ever
closer to him, “I swear, Siena, you’ve got me right on the edge...”

“I’m there too,” I tell him, planting my hands on his rock
hard abs, “I want to come with you, baby...”

“The way you talk...” he says, his eyes closing in bliss.

“But, I want to see it,” I tell him, leveling my dizzy gaze
at him, “Come on my stomach. My chest.”

“Are you sure?” Harrison asks, his teeth gritted.

“I’m sure,” I breathe, “Please...”

Harrison leans into me, my legs pressed up. He rears back
and barrels up into me, colliding with that spot inside that is the key to my
bliss. A huge roiling wave of sensation crashes over me, and I scream out my
ecstasy to the high ceilings above us. A low groan rips out of Harrison’s
throat, and I feel him slip out of me. A gushing warmth spills across my belly
and breasts, covering me. I let my head fall back against the stairs as we lose
ourselves to each other,  succumbing to this most intense of moments.

His body relaxes against mine on the stairs. For the longest
time, we can’t bear to say a thing. Finally, he turns to me, the corners of his
mouth lifted into a smile.

“Guess we should get you cleaned up?” he says.

“Only if you carry me,” I moan.

“That can be arranged,” he says.

In one swift motion, he’s caught me up in his arms. Harrison
carries me up the stairs like a bride over the threshold.

“Where are we going?” I ask dreamily.

“I have a marble bath tub with your name on it,” he tells
me.

“Dear god,” I moan, “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Only in the most humane way possible,” he laughs, and
carries me up and away.