Pedal to the Metal: Love's Drivin' but Fate's Got the Pole (The 'Cuda Confessions Book 3) (51 page)

My mother taught me to worry what other people thought, but Dale taught me to put the hammer down and never look back. To trust that I had the skill—or determination—to hang on until the finish. To learn the damn job while doing the damn job, if need be.

I fell to my knees and stared into shocked eyes. “Unzip your pants.”

Want warred with fear in his expression. Shame swept me, for hiding out in Spartanburg Monday and Tuesday night. This gorgeous man shouldn’t be debating. He needed to be dropping that fucking zipper with a smirk.

“I think you need a hug right now, more than I need a half-assed blow job.” He forced a lopsided grin. “You ain’t never lost, you know.”

“Yes, I did. I lost my heart. I’m not sure when it happened. I fought it for a long time, because I’m scared to death that neither of us know a damn thing about love, but I lost it anyway. So, how about sticking your dick in my mouth before you decide my blow jobs are inadequate? I didn’t know how to drive a race car, either. But you shut up and just let me drive. Look how that turned out.”

He leaned against the sink and narrowed his eyes. “You want it? Come and get it.” I smiled when he gripped the edge of the counter. His eyes darkened with lust, but the soft breeze of love stirred the stars in the depths.

The button on the waistband of his Wrangler’s slid free with a twist of my fingers. Tugging the zipper down, I didn’t take my eyes off his face. When I touched him, he was slack, but by the time I worked him free, he’d begun to fill.

Leaning forward, I guided the head of his cock into my mouth. Sliding the soft form down my throat was easy. All I had to do was swallow.

His soft groan spurred me to suckle. His taste filled my mouth. His scent surrounded me and I drew the smell deep into my lungs., for the sheer pleasure it gave. As he started to harden, I stroked the underside of his shaft with my tongue. Soon, he grew so big that I had to pull back, but I had him wet.

Recalling Colt’s instructions from Christmas, I curled my hand around Caine’s shaft, making sure I pressed the edge of my palm to my lips before rocking forward.

The magic and power of sex had always been the force of it, the hard current that dragged me under and didn’t relent until it hurled me into the stars. This was different. It was curling in bed and watching snowflakes fall past my window. It was listening to a gentle rain strike the porch roof while sipping hot cocoa.

It was feeling the veins in his cock slide over my tongue, giving, but filling instantly, tempting me to flatten it again. It was the change in his shaft, from soft to solid, and knowing I’d made it so. It was pushing him deep, despite my discomfort, rewarded by the way he let his head fall back to curse at the ceiling.

It was the shiver of weakness in his strong thighs, summoned by tonguing the spot under the crisp rim around the head of his cock. It was the trickle of wetness inside me when I learned to wield subtle powers I’d never known I possessed. His breathing grew labored. His chest rose and fell like an engine cranking out maximum rpms.

The memory of Colt’s whispered instructions pulled me back from my silent worship. I cupped Caine’s balls, rubbing my thumb over the puckered line down the center, reveling in the way the spongy shapes slid between my fingers, and the way the touch made him push deeper inside me to warm his soul.

This was breaking every speed limit while on my knees. I pushed harder, taking him as deep as I could, sucking with all my might, until tears stung my eyes and my cheeks hollowed.

He let go of the counter, cupping my jaw with gentle fingers that soon turned hard, pinning my head in the position that pleased him best. Thrusting his hips, he demanded I take more.

I took. Breathing was for the weak. This was racing the gods. I ached for the triumph that first salty splash would bring.

My nipples throbbed, as did my channel, not from hard thrusts inside me, but from the beguiling sense that I controlled more than I ever dreamed possible. I soared from nothing more than the way his eyes pinned me. The ragged groans that slipped from his lips were my engine. Now, his cock wasn’t a piston, but a gear shift, and I worked him through third and fourth, hitting fifth with a growing confidence that made me dare for sixth.

Driving my head forward, I felt the dark thatch of curls around his base brush my lips. I forced myself to swallow, despite the tears streaming down my cheeks.

His shaft seemed to swell, pushing my jaws to their limit. His balls contracted. With a shout, he leaned forward. I couldn’t breathe, but this was familiar ground, pinned by a force I couldn’t fight while the world blurred around me and my heart tried to explode.

His cock began to jerk. Hot spurts struck the back of my throat.

Time to gear down
. I pulled away, sliding him out of my throat, but gripped him tightly with my fingers. I let my hand drift away from my lips, but stroked hard with my hand, to wring free every drop of his pleasure, as he’d done for me so many times.

When I pulled back at last, I studied his face. He opened his eyes slowly. His chest heaved. My forearms telegraphed the tremor in his thighs. He sank to the floor, his knees bracketing mine. When he slid his arms around my shoulders, I pushed my arms underneath his, sensing that he was the one needing to be held.

For a long moment, he stared into my eyes. “All grown up now, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

His grin started slow, twisting to one side. “That scares the fuck outta me.” I laughed when he shook his head like he did when coming out of the shower. “You suck cock like you goddamn drive.”

I traced the edge of his jaw. “Speaking of driving. I’m not looking for someone to take care of me, Caine. I need a man strong enough to step back and let me lead at times. This is that time, so think about what you say next. It doesn’t matter what that test says. I’m racing Barnes.”

He dragged his fingers through my hair, raking damp strands off my cheek. “I know you’re your own woman, but....” He curled a hand around the side of my throat. “Just think about this. If Colt jumped off a ledge, I reckon I’d jump too, to try and keep him from breakin’ his goddamn neck.”

I laughed, but he shushed me. “Listen, okay? Kolby and Kasey aren’t like that. One day, they’re close as can be. The next, they’re going after each other tooth and nail. You know Kolby’s fucked up. Dangling the one thing he knew you couldn’t resist, that ‘Cuda? Challenging you with Dad on life support? Who does shit like that?”

He pressed his thumb to my pulse point. “And if you think—”

The sliding glass door crashed open. “Caine? Where the fuck are y’all?” Jonny bellowed. “Here’s the first load of Shelby’s junk.” Boxes thumped, striking the concrete floor. “You can haul this shit upstairs. I have no idea where to put it.”

“Dammit.” I scrambled to my feet and lunged for the counter. Grabbing the little shirt and the stick, I crammed both into the drug store bag. “Go. Go. Before one of them comes in here.” I crammed the baby shirt into the bag as well. Caine got to his feet and yanked his pants up.

“Be right there,” he barked.

“No! He’ll head right this way,” I whispered, grabbing the stupidly large piece of paper with about a million drawings of the simple test stick. There wasn’t a damn trashcan. I gave the toilet a look, then crumpled the page and stuffed it down the front of my yoga pants, praying my T-shirt was loose enough to hide my lumpy abdomen.

Caine stumbled out of the bathroom, still buttoning his jeans.

“Couldn’t make it up the stairs to a bed?” Jonny’s laughter echoed off the block walls.

“Changed pants.”

Caroline’s giggle came from right outside the bathroom door. “So, you have two pairs of jeans with a hole at the bottom left of the zipper? Really? What’s puttin’ all the pressure on that spot, Caine?”

“Why the fuck are y’all here?” Caine demanded.

“Neither of you answered your phone. If I let y’all jump on tunin’ that Audi before we eat, me and Shelby could starve to death and you wouldn’t notice.”

Crap. I didn’t dare take the time to refold the fucking page. Would I crinkle when I walked?

“Can we go to the buffet by the mall? I adore their crab salad.” Deciding I’d hide all the incriminating evidence in Caine’s room, I waited until they trooped outside, then raced up the steps. Taking a deep breath at the top, I dashed into my old bedroom. Leaning against the door, I turned on the light.

Cringing at the walls, still decked out in black and red, I eyed the bed, but that didn’t seem a smart choice for a hiding spot. Ripping the directions out of my pants, I cast around for a better place.
The closet.

In the far back corner, I spied a box full of old magazines. Lifting the top four or five, I hastily folded the page and laid it inside, then added the bag containing the box and stick, before slamming the rest of the magazines on top.

“Just put ‘em right here. I have to make room in my closet.” Caine’s voice drifted up the steps, making my heart stutter. I hurried to turn off the light and headed for the kitchen as quietly as I could.

I drew up short at the end of the hall.

The red and khaki plaid recliner I’d bought Dale stuck out like a sore thumb in the den Mom had redecorated in shades of blue my sophomore year in college.

Whirling, I dashed down the steps. “Text me where to meet y’all. And, either give me my fucking keys or I’m taking the truck.”

“Shelby.” Caine put a hand on my shoulder.

I wrenched away. “No! Goddammit, no! Mom put Dale out. He just came off life support and she kicked him out? I’m going to talk some sense into her.”

Or slap her sideways.

“S
eriously, bitch?”

The Mercedes sedan in the driveway—with South Carolina plates and the Highway Patrolman’s Fund sticker I’d seen before—made my blood boil. Unwilling to risk walking in on my mother having sex with Robert’s dad, I banged on the kitchen door. Was that guilt in her eyes when Mom peeped through the curtain?

I bounded up the stairs. In the worst moment of déjà vu ever, Senior sat at the kitchen table, in the spot where Eddie had left his can of Red Bull two weeks ago.

“We’re not suing NASCAR. Get that out of your head.” With a glare, I crossed my arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. “But I need to speak with my mother. Privately. And right fucking now.”

The lawyer closed the thick leather satchel at his side and got to his feet. “Good night, Macy. Call me with any questions.” Senior had the gall to press a kiss to Mom’s cheek before he strode down the steps, briefcase in hand.

“You better start explaining.” I stalked to the table and jerked out a different chair. “And by the way, Dale gave me his power of attorney. So,”—I gestured to the papers scattered on the table—“I repeat, there won’t be a lawsuit. Why the fuck is he kissing you?” I sucked down a breath. “Why would you even let that bastard kiss you?”

Taking a seat, Mom tucked her hair behind her ear. “The hideous part of this mess is that I love Dale more than I’ve ever loved a man.”

I snapped, “If it’s all the same to you, let’s stick to the truth. Power of attorney means I can slap this house on the market tomorrow and sell it to the first person who waves a dollar bill. Think on that before you lie.”

She smoothed her hands down the thighs of her slacks. I hated the part of me that coiled, waiting to hear how I’d cost her something else. I hated the part of her that made me know it was inevitable.

While she composed herself, I had to admit, Bliss had done a bang-up job. Mom had learned to ease up on the makeup. A fresh version of the cut I’d admired in February hugged her jawline like a lover, yet couldn’t hide the way she swallowed. Her clothes paid tribute to her figure, not the current fashion. She looked elegant in her emerald silk blouse and black slacks.

More call girl than corner whore.

She shifted the chair to face me. I winced at the shriek the metal legs made on the ceramic flooring. “The day I married Dale, I wasn’t in love. The physical attraction was there, and I hoped what I felt would deepen. As for Dale, I had no idea what was in it for him, but I’d have done anything to guarantee you a college education. It was a bonus if I didn’t end up living under a bridge to make that happen.”

I opened my mouth, but she held up a hand. “Please, Shelby. Just let me talk. You can’t imagine how painful this is.”

I pressed my lips together and clasped my hands. But I didn’t buy into the pleading look she gave me. In the rare instances when she took credit for fucking up her own life, she tended to take too much credit. The ploy was hard to explain to an outsider, but when she faced her own failures, she never did just read what was printed on the T-shirt, so to speak. She twisted what she saw in order to wring it for sympathy. She never had that come-to-Jesus moment that led her to correct the course of her life.

And I, her first and best accomplice, dug my nails into my palms and waited while she found a new way to pour the guilt for her unfulfilled life into my lap.

“I did fall for him. Hard. Who can resist Dale Hannah when he sets his mind on bein’ charmin’? But, I kept hearing my mother’s voice. She was just like you, always so good at pointing out how stupid I am. He’d have a cruel streak, or turn out to be a closet alcoholic. Or I’d find out he screwed around on the road. As you know, he’s nothing like that. Or, at least, he’s not that way now. He’s the most honorable man I’ve ever met.”