Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (36 page)

9.
             
Blue Flag
–
Sway

Blue Flag – The flagman will use this flag to signal to a driver that a faster car is either approaching (steady flag) or attempting a pass (waved flag). The driver being flagged has no obligation to do anything other than be alert, maintain the racing line and avoid intentionally obstructing the faster car.

“I can’t believe Alley rented this goddamn thing?”

   “She’s
your
wife
...
” Jameson pointed when we arrived at his parent’s house.

“I feel like I’m driving a vagina on wheels.”

“Like I said, she’s
your
wife, dude.” Jameson laughed. “And good luck with the whole,” he motioned to his hair and ass. “Just
...
good luck.” He patted Spencer on the back as we got out of the mini-van.

It was around midnight when we arrived at his parent’s house in Mooresville. After last night, and spending the day with Spencer and Emma, I needed sleep.

As soon as Jameson and I got inside his room, we both fell on the bed tangled together asleep within mere minutes.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt so much better. My ass still hurt from my new tattoo but mentally and physically, I was feeling much better.

I swore to myself I would never drink that much Tequila
ever
again. I’m sure that resolution wouldn’t last though. I’d said that before, hell I even attempted to sue them back in high school when I woke up naked in the back of my truck after polishing off a half bottle, okay an entire bottle by myself. Regardless, I was sure I didn’t mean it but I felt better already even if I was lying to myself.

Jameson was still asleep on his stomach so I decided to let him sleep. After showering and dressing in my new underwear I purchased, I made my way downstairs.

When I walked into the Riley’s gigantic kitchen, I suddenly remembered how much I enjoyed cooking. Back home, I usually cooked for Charlie but since I’d been on my pretend summer vacation, I hadn’t done much but spread my legs.

That sounds horrible.

Making my way around their kitchen, I pulled out the ingredients to make Jameson some waffles—the boy was obsessed with them. His motor coach was overflowing with those damn Eggo waffles. I personally found them insanely delicious too but I wanted to make him a meal that didn’t have me as an ingredient.

Not that I was opposed to that sort of thing but we did need to find some balance; and nourishment.

After the batter was done and the waffle iron was heating, I heard footsteps behind me—hoping it wasn’t Spencer or Emma. I couldn’t handle them again today so I turned around warily.

And there, in all his morning glory, Jameson stood, wearing only a pair of khaki shorts. With insanely wild mess of hair, beautifully sparkly green eyes, sexy dirty smirk and his chiseled chest, was my hotheaded dirty heathen staring at me with lust burning eyes.

Hot damn.

He didn’t say anything but placed his hands on the island and the counter, trapping me in the corner of the U shaped kitchen.

“Hi,” My eyes stayed focused on his.

“Hi,” Jameson replied moving closer.

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

“My breakfast wasn’t in bed though, so
...
” he shrugged his shoulders grinning.

“If you would have
stayed
in bed,” pushing lightly against his chest, I grinned as well. “I could have surprised you.”

Jameson shook his head slowly lifting me onto the counter with a soft grunt. “I wasn’t looking for food.” He clarified.

“What are you looking for then?”

“I think you know.”

I tapped my index finger to my lips and looked up as if I was contemplating. “You were looking for waffles, weren’t you?” I teased.

“No,” he shook his head slowly looking around the kitchen. “Try again.” He told me reaching for the honey bottle next to my arm.

“Honey?” I asked softly. “You were looking for honey?”

“I wasn’t looking for honey
...
” his voice trailed off setting the honey aside and reached for the hem of my shirt. “But I found honey.”

I grabbed his hands. “Jameson, your parents—”

“Aren’t home,” He finished pulling my shirt over my head. His hands snuck around my waist dragging me to the edge of the granite counter.

What kind of pit lizard would I be if I didn’t whore moan and arch my back when I felt his already hard camshaft ready and waiting for me?

Not a very good on, that’s for sure.

Staying true to par, I did whore moan and arch my back in response because damn, this boy was good.

Jameson’s strong hands moved with determination up my sides and around my back to remove my bra. Slowly, he pulled the hot pink bra away; my nipples harden in anticipation.

Throwing it behind him, he attacked my nipples with his perfected nipple trick he did so goddamn well. With each nip, I let out a whimper of pleasure and ground my hips against his, earning a moan of pleasure from him too.

Jameson stopped, looking up at me from under his thick black lashes. “Are you opposed to being sticky?”

“I think
you’re
the one with the issue regarding being sticky.”

He smirked. “So that’s a no?”

“Have you ever known me to be opposed to anything while my legs are spread?” I felt the need to point out.

 “Good point.” He grinned now. “You’re going to need a shower after this.” He reached for the honey bottle beside him.

Soon Def Leppard’s
Pour some Sugar
was humming in my head.

I really didn’t know the words to sing them out-loud but the entire situation was certainly playing out to the beat of the song when he leaned back, pulled my jeans off and then reached for the whip cream, shaking it with a quick flick of his wrist.

With his thumb, he popped the lid and winked. “You’re sweet but I think I like my Sway al a carte this morning.”

“Is that so?” I giggled.

“Mmhmm,” Jameson proceeded to pour honey, whip cream, chocolate syrup, and caramel sauce over my entire body.

Within minutes, I looked like a goddamn banana split.

Apparently, Jameson thought the same thing when he laughed. “Look at that,” his head skewed to the side. “I’ve created the perfect dessert. My very own Sway banana split.” He laughed again at his discovery, admiring his creation just as Spencer did with the dick on the wall.

What was even worse was that we were thinking the same damn thing, which was never a good sign.

This just proved Jameson was the other half of my brain, a theory our parents have had for years.

“Are you just going to stare at your dessert, or are you going to eat it?” I asked trying to be all super-sexy licking some honey from my arm but it didn’t go down that way.

Instead, when I lifted the said arm to lick it, I slipped on the sticky slippery granite counter and fell off the side onto the floor.

If that’s not embarrassing, I don’t know what is.

Jameson tried to catch me but I had so some much sticky shit on me, I slipped right out of his hands onto my tattooed ass.

Instantly we were both laughing.

In the process of the intended sexy lick-and-then-slip, Jameson was now covered in the same sticky sweet mess he covered me with, and currently trying to unbutton his shorts with honey fingers—not exactly an easy task.

After some effort, he managed to get the shorts down and proceeded to lick his Sway banana split.

I couldn’t take my eyes off his because holy mosses it was sexy as hell.

Jameson knelt down in front of me where I was sprawled out pit lizard-style on his parent’s cream tile floor, covered in sticky sweets.

“Gimme some sugar,” He grinned bringing my foot to his mouth where he took his time at my toes, licking off the smeared chocolate and honey. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with him licking my toes so I squirmed away.

Chuckling at my discomfort for that particular appendage, he moved up my calf to a dollop of whip cream and drizzled caramel. “You taste good.” His tongue carefully swept over me.

Ah crap
...
now I’m singing Trick Daddy’s
Gimme Some Sugar
.

His tongue darted out once more licking his way up my right thigh until he reached his destination but before his tongue met my ignition switch. He gave me a lopsided smile and bit the inside of my thigh.

I jumped.

“Did that hurt?” he asked in a low concerned gritty voice.

“No,” I assured him. “Just
...
uh
...
surprised me,”

He chuckled licking the whip cream, honey, chocolate, and caramel from my body before he continued his licking and sucking against my crankcase for some proper deburring.

Tongue. Lips. Hands. Fingers.

All of it, dedicated to my banana split and me.

Once his lips touched me, I lost all sense of time clinging to him desperately. The sensations were too much and I felt the sweet tension building within.

I’m not sure if it was being covered in sticky sweets that made this seem so much more intense or if it was just being with him over these past few weeks that was intense.

Every day, every single minute of the goddamn day, I felt myself falling deeper in love, if that were even possible, with this man.

I could feel a shudder rise deep within. It started at my feet, settling in my tummy, passing through me in waves. I knew I was panting, embarrassingly so but couldn’t make myself care.

“Oh god, Jameson
...
I
...
” I couldn’t even form the words.

With a growl that bordered on a roar, he was up my sticky banana split body and sliding inside me with determined thrusts. I thought he was going to come by the way he was moving but instead he pulled out, sat back on his heels to look at me, my banana split now covering his chest and stomach.

“I want to try something.” He said pulling me up with him.

We slipped a few times because Christ, there was a lot of whip cream. Jameson had become slightly carried away when the whip cream was out.

Once standing, he turned me around and bent me over the counter.

Hot damn.

Reaching for both my hands, he placed them securely on the edge of the counter in front of me.

“You’re gonna want to hold on for this.” He advised, his breath blowing across my shoulder. “Jesus you’re sexy.”