Chapter 17
Erica
There’s something no one ever talks about with racing—how sexual it all is. The purr of the engine, the vibration of the seats beneath you, the barely controlled power, it’s all such a turn-on. Or at least it is for me.
When Brody asked me if I was ready to go, a tiny whisper of doubt had tried to worm its way into my heart. He doesn’t want you here, doesn’t want you racing. But then I saw the sexy promises in the dark depths of his eyes, felt the fire licking along his skin, and realized I was so wrong. He didn’t want me to leave. He just wanted me. As in, if I’d said no to leaving, he’d have happily turned me around, bent me over the nearest front bumper, and fucked me right there until we both screamed.
In an instant, my doubts evaporated like smoke, leaving only hope and hunger.
I’m driving as fast as I dare back to the garage, and almost before I can turn Foxy off, Brody and I are out of our seats and leaping toward each other. We meet in front of the hood, his hands going to my ass and lifting me easily. My legs wrap around his waist as our lips smash together, devouring one another.
“Goddamn, you’re a fucking beast behind the wheel. So sexy, Erica.” The words are stilted and murmured against my lips.
“It doesn’t scare you that I do that?” I whisper, throwing my head back and closing my eyes as he kisses a line of heat along my neck. Even now, I’m challenging him, testing his reactions, and expecting him to bail or go into lecture mode.
“Terrified me, but it was worth it to see that smile on your face when you climbed out. Gonna make you smile like that for me.”
I’ll have to remember to revel in the sweetness of that later because he lays me back on the hood of Foxy and I forget everything but how I feel as Brody leans over me, looming and large. The car’s warm beneath me, keeping me from chilling as Brody shoves my shirt up and runs his callused hands along my sides.
“Do you even own a bra?” he growls.
“You complaining?” Arching my back, I silently demand for him to touch my breasts. Finger, tongue, mouth, any of them will do.
“Never. Complimenting.”
The explanation is enough as he gives me what I need, his finger and thumb rolling one nipple while his mouth suckles the other. I weave my hands into his hair, scratching at his scalp before holding him to me, not letting him go as I demand more. He nibbles lightly, and I cry out and arch harder. He works my breasts back and forth, sucking one and then the other, never letting one feel neglected though his hands work their way to my waistband, undoing my jeans and shoving them down along with my panties. I manage to kick them both over my boots, leaving me in a rather oddly incomplete outfit, but I don’t give a shit.
Brody pulls off my breast with a pop and stands tall. He looks me over and I let him, not shy in the least. I know I’m not for everyone. I don’t have big tits or an ass they write songs about, but my body is strong and I’m confident in my own skin. And that’s sexy.
“Beautiful, Lil Bit.”
The soft and honest confession unexpectedly pierces my armor, reaching dangerously close to my heart. I’m bitchy and prickly, mean and hard, and so defensive my picture’s probably beside the definition in the dictionary. But Brody finding me not just sexy, not just a hot fuck while we’re riding on endorphins, but beautiful? “Thank you.”
There’s a burning in my eyes I don’t like, so I blink and reach for him.
Brody gathers a handful of T-shirt behind his head, pulling it over in one swoop, like my own private magician. I expect him to drop the shirt to the floor, maybe to the hood if it’s a favorite, but he wads it into a ball and lifts my head to slip it underneath like a pillow. Sweet, sexy, romantic . . . and not the rough fucking on the hood of my car that I want. “Condom?”
“I want to taste you first,” Brody says, his eyes locked on my core as he spreads my knees. I let him, enjoying the cool air on my overheated pussy, knowing he’s getting off on the slickness I can already feel gathered there.
“Later. Racing always makes me horny, and right now, I’m on edge and I want to come with your cock buried inside me.”
“Shiiiiit.” Brody’s groan is lazy and drawled out, but his hands reach for his wallet and he holds up a condom packet. He unbuttons his jeans, pushing them and his underwear to his knees before rolling the condom down his hard length. I watch the whole show, my hips curling up and my pussy pulsing. I feel a droplet of my juices run down toward my ass, and Brody’s eyes trace its path. He dips down and licks one long line, savoring it. He grins that ‘gotcha’ smile, so cocky that he got a taste, and then lines up with my opening. “Need you, Erica.”
My heart is damn glad he doesn’t give my brain time to pick that apart, because those words seem dangerous and deep. Instead, he thrusts into me with one stroke, bottoming out. I spasm and clench tight on his cock and somehow feel both invaded and complete at the same time. I didn’t know I was empty without him. Wait, what?
My brain starts to dip into that, knowing that sharing my secret with him, taking him to the track tonight, and how he reacted so well are important. Not just for me, but for us. But there’s not supposed to be an us.
Except when he’s buried inside me, it feels like maybe I’m wrong about that.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Brody pauses, his fingers brushing the hair out of my face before tracing the dots along my cheekbone. He cups my jaw, eyes looking deep into mine, almost as deep as he is inside me. And I’m not sure I only mean his cock.
I shake my head, not wanting to do this now. For now, I just want to fuck and enjoy him. “I’m here. Fuck me.”
That makes his eyes narrow suspiciously for some reason I don’t understand.
“Show me what you do. When you come home from a race, turned on by the vibrations underneath you, the power you wield . . . show me what you do.” He takes my hand, kissing each fingertip, pinky . . .ring . . . middle . . . and swirling his tongue over my index finger, and then guides my hand to my clit. “Show me while we fuck.”
There’s an emphasis to his words that brings me back to this moment between us. Not the future, not somewhere deeper, but right here, right now, taking pleasure in each other.
I spread my lips open, knowing that it probably looks obscene and sexy to him to see the place where he disappears inside me. I tease a circle around my clit, heat gathering there from my own touch and his eyes. I find a rhythm, speeding up slightly, and then a pattern, circling a few times before tapping my clit. Brody watches each movement, adding slow and shallow thrusts to the building momentum of my orgasm.
“That’s it . . . fuck, that’s sexy.” I’ll never admit, not even to myself, that his words turn me on even more. I’ve never been with a dirty talker, but I swear, Brody’s more verbose when he’s having sex than when he’s not. “Want more?”
I don’t trust my voice not to waver so I nod, and before I know it, Brody’s got my ankles on his shoulders, dirty boots and all, and his hands locked over my thighs for leverage. He pounds into me, hips slapping and slamming against my ass as I struggle to keep up. He’s going at me so hard my breath escapes with every thrust, leaving me lightheaded and on edge.