Open Wheel

by Shey Stahl

  For a moment, he kept his hand there, feeling himself move in and out of me, and then moved it up higher and higher, until his fingertips were at my lips. “Taste yourself, baby,” he growled in my ear. “I bet you taste good.”

  I let him stick his fingers in my mouth, only because, hello, they were Rager’s fingers and if he wanted to shove them in my mouth, he could. If he wanted to come on my face, I would have let him at that point. Anything he wanted.

  Rager jerked forward, the two of us falling flat against the ottoman, his body tensing as he bit into the skin above my collarbone. “Fuck, Arie,” he moaned against my skin, his tongue following a path toward my neck. And then with two more quick movements, he moaned as his orgasm shook him. I could feel his dick pulsing again, same as before, as he ground his pelvis into me, he released, my name falling from his lips.

  This time I joined him, the relief intense as I felt the bliss pulse through every nerve in my body. He knew I’d gotten there too, his hands working a little quicker as his body stilled.

  When I whimpered, the feelings too strong for him to continue, he drew away with a laugh.

  Withdrawing, he pulled off the condom, looked at it, and then set it on the floor, his expression off. “Fuck…I’m out of condoms.”

  That was a problem, because with a low groan from him, we were going at it again. We’d already used the same condom twice, probably couldn’t do it for a third time.

  I loved how we couldn’t keep our hands off each other and how I never wanted to be away from him. I loved how he was learning my body and wanted to fulfill my every desire.

  “AGAIN?” I giggled.

  It was then I started to think about, man, I should have shaved my legs. Maybe waxed?

  “I can’t stop,” he said, so simple, a statement even. Like don’t argue with me, it’s going to be this way. “But I don’t have any more.”

  That wasn’t an option for me. We couldn’t stop on account of no condoms. “Just pull out before you come.”

  Such a guy thing to say, but it was me saying it, unable to accept that this would be over. I hated to compare the two, but Easton would fall asleep after the first time. Here Rager was going for round three.

  And I desperately wanted round three, despite the soreness between my legs.

  “Okay…” He eyed my body lying out before him on the couch now, my feet flat on the floor. “Can you stick your legs on my shoulders?”

  It was one question after another.

  One position after another.

  Hour after hour.

  We did stop for a little while because he was hungry. I made him scrambled eggs.

  “Can I stick it in your ass?” he drawled breathlessly, throwing his head back when he pushed inside me. His mouth caught mine, hungry, wet, and forceful.

  When I said anything he wanted, I clearly drew the line somewhere. Right here was where that line was drawn. I quirked an eyebrow at him, placing one hand on his chest and shaking my finger at him. “No.”

  He tried to bite my finger playfully, his eyes teasing. “Why not?”

  “Because.”

  “That’s not a reason.”

  I reached for him, my hands sliding over the curve of his shoulders. “Just get over here.”

  He looked at me, his mind working again. I didn’t know what it was with him, but he was trying all kinds of positions I’d never been in before. “Put your elbows on the backs of your knees.”

  I had to think about that one. It was like playing a game of naughty Connect the Dots. When I was in position, he was inside me, barely able to wait.

  “Do you do this with all the girls?” I looked at the clock. “We’ve literally been fucking for four hours. Who does that besides porn stars?”

  He shrugged. “We do.” He grunted, pushing forward, again. “We fucking do.”

  Five minutes later, he asked again, his hands on my ass.

  “Oh, come on. I thought you were a dirty girl.” His brow rose, testing me. “Please?”

  “I said no.” I smacked at his chest.

  His voice was low, throaty, his head buried in my neck now, lips parting so his tongue could slide over my salty skin. “I bet if I just stuck it in, you’d beg me to continue.”

  “Doubt that.” I wrapped my legs around him, heels digging into his ass, forcing him to continue.

  “Have you ever?” I could sense the curiosity even though I couldn’t see his face. It was laced in every word he spoke, begging for the answer.

  “No.”

  “Then you don’t know.” I could hear his smile; he was teasing, threatening in some ways. “And the fact that no one ever has, makes me want it even more.” He pulled back, rising up on his elbows. “To know I’ve had you in a way no one ever has.”

  When he put it that way, I started to consider it, but then remembered it was my ass. No fucking way. Out only.

  “No.”

  He forgot all about that for a while when I arched my back, giving him full view of my breasts in front of his face. His mouth went to work sucking and biting, bringing me to yet another orgasm. “That’s right, come for me again. Don’t deny me. Ever again,” he whispered.

  He let out a guttural groan, slamming into me, thrust after hard thrust. Rager’s breathing felt as shallow as my own, labored and uncontrolled, defenseless to this. But then there were the sounds he was making, coming from deep within his chest, resonating through me.

  When he knew I had reached another orgasm, he pushed hard, faster, his forehead pressed to my cheek, his hair falling into my eyes as I held onto his shoulders.

  With a growl, he buried his face in my neck, teeth clamping down on my skin. Groaning, he sucked and bit, digging his teeth across my flesh.

  Moaning in response, I curved around him as his knees spread my legs further, his hips jerking forward, and then he pulled out, suddenly, rushed.

  Raising my head, I watched as his hand moved between us, bringing himself to the edge. The wetness that was spread over my stomach had a smile tugging at my lips. Still grunting, his hand halted, his head dipping forward, the muscles in his shoulders tensing as his right hand held him up, his left brought him to the pleasures that overtook us both. Rager Sweet came on my stomach.

  In that moment, I would have let him fuck my ass. But he didn’t ask again. I only would have allowed it because I knew then, staring at him, I couldn’t deny him anymore.

  “Do you believe me now?” he whispered, long lashes lowering as he gasped for breath as his body continued to shake.

  “Believe what?” I whispered.

  “That I’m never going to get enough?”

  I nodded, because even though it felt impossible to believe, it was true. Taking a breath in, I held it, not wanting the moment to end, or him to move.

  THE EARLY LIGHT was starting to come in through the room and we were still on the floor. Rager was sleeping, while the blanket that was over me was just covering his legs.

  Seeing him now, naked, made me want him again. I felt like now that I had him, I wasn't going to get enough. So much had built up to this that there was no stopping that feeling of undeniable thirst. Taking my time, I watched him sleeping and the gentle way his body moved as he breathed in and out, content. His hair was sticking up in odd directions from my hands running through it obsessively.

  Tentatively, I shook his shoulder, trying to see what he would do or say.

  “Rager…”

  “Hmmm?” He stirred, his eyes never opening. “I can’t…” he mumbled. “You broke me.”

  Giggling, I laid back down, but I wasn’t satisfied. The heat between my legs throbbed, burned, intensified with each passing minute. I needed him in ways even I didn’t understand, couldn’t understand.

  “Please…” I begged, kissing his shoulders and then his side and lower to his hip.

  He made a groaning sound, the muscles in his sides flexing that he either enjoyed that or he was ticklish. Licking his hips and then dragging my teet
h over his perfectly golden skin. I felt his dick twitch and harden against my breasts.

  “I need more.”

  “Yeah? It wasn’t enough?” he asked, the amusement in his tone clear.

  “It will never be enough. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten myself off to the notion of what this would be like, and now that I’ve experienced it…I may never stop again.”

  Rager lifted his head. “You’ve touched yourself thinking about me?”

  My tongue darted out again making a pass over his length, flicking the end with my tongue. “More than once.”

  That got him. He growled out a breath, his hands fisting my hair. “So hot.”

  It took all of a second before he was hard as a rock and I had him in my mouth.

  His hands cradled my head, his back arching off the floor a few inches, and his head smacking against the floor with a thud he didn’t even register. “Fuck, baby, just like that.”

  Oh yeah, he was up now.

  He pushed my head down so that my lips met the smooth skin of his balls, my eyes watering with the sensation to gag, but refusing to. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to give him everything I could being this way.

  It was so much different than when I did this in the hauler for him when I was sixteen. Because now, there was so much history between us it wasn’t just a sexual act. He still watched me just as closely as he did back then. Only he had more aggression this time. I wouldn’t say more forcefulness, but more…willing to take what he wanted.

  Pushing my head down in probably the sexiest manner ever, I moaned around his dick, vibrating it in my mouth.

  “Look at me,” he demanded, yanking my head back so I could see him. “I want to watch you suck my dick and beg for me to come inside.”

  Jesus, he is fucking dirty, isn’t he?

  When I peeked up at him, the muscles straining and flexing as he cursed, captivated with my every move. I hummed around him, and he gasped again. His hand fisted in my hair, hips bucking upward, shoving the length of him as deep into my throat as he could go.

  I watched his face as he came. He tightly squeezed his eyes shut, the silent plea for his climax to last forever. His entire body taut as he shuddered, warm gushes of him flooding my throat.

  “I NEED TO REPAY the favor,” he whispered, low and throaty against the tender skin he bit earlier when I returned from the bathroom a half hour later. I was wrong. He wasn’t tired.

  Reaching down, his hands swept to my hips and turned me around, backing me up against the table. Hooking his hands around the backs of my thighs, he lifted me up on the table.

  On the kitchen table where Easton and I used to eat breakfast.

  A place where I was going to eat breakfast every morning alone when I was home from now on to remember this moment. I would sit there and recall every flick of his tongue and the jolt it sent through my body.

  “You don’t have to do that…” I breathed the words in what seemed like a moan.

  “I’m not Easton, Arie…” His words were spoken softly, lashes fluttering, eyes penetrating to make me believe him. “I won’t stop until I know you are satisfied completely.”

  The pressure of his tongue emphasized his statement as he circled my clit, almost too much, but then again, all of this was too much. My nerve endings were alive and shocked to the point of numbness, but I couldn’t tell him to stop.

  “Tell me you don’t want me to stop,” he demanded, his mouth drawing back. “Say it.”

  I couldn’t have that. No way. It’d been like a fucking year since someone had done this to me, and that needed to change. Especially seeing how good Rager was at kissing.

  “Don’t stop. Ever!”

  “That’s my girl.” With his tongue still lapping at me, circling and sucking, he pushed his fingers deep inside of me so I could feel his knuckles pressing against me, he was that far in.

  “Hang on, baby. This is going to be worth it, and I promise you’re gonna be screaming my name.” He moved his fingers deep, thrusting inside me. “Fuck, your pussy is still tight.”

  Using his fingers and tongue, sucking and biting, he made good on his word. With heavy breathing and a few laughs, Rager grabbed my hips tighter, his tongue sending me over the edge, writhing in his hands.

  Having Rager between my legs, his tongue giving me the greatest pleasure I’ve ever experienced made my head light, my breathing shallow, my eyes closed and seeing stars.

  Never did I think we would be like this. And now that we were, it was all so hard to comprehend.

  He was right. I was screaming his name. Over and over again.

  Grabbing onto his hair, I fisted the soft waves between my fingers. My mouth parted as a gasp escaped when his tongue swirled over the most sensitive parts, sucking, kissing, swirling; it was all dedicated to me.

  When he knew my need had been met, it took a second; he scrambled up my body, hovered over me, and then reached below to grasp himself. He used his hand, again, to bring himself to the edge I was just on, and spilled onto my stomach, his face buried in my neck.

  Grunting out a breath, his body hunched forward at the edge of the table. “I have no bodily fluids left.”

  Maybe it was the thrill of having him want me so much he couldn’t hold back, or maybe it was that I didn’t want him to hold back. I wanted everything he had to give to me.

  It should have felt like I was betraying my husband, but it didn’t feel like that at all. What it felt like was that I finally gave into something I wanted because I wanted it, not because I felt like I should have done it.

  Maybe I should have been ashamed, but I didn’t feel that way. Not at all.

  “Fuck, the moment I come I start thinking about the next time,” he muttered against my heated skin. “I can’t get enough.” He dropped his forehead to mine. Sliding my hands over the curve of his shoulders, they found his thick, dark, sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s never going to be enough for me.”

  I wanted to beg him never to stop, so I did.

  And he didn’t stop, not for a while.

  We finally stopped, just as the sun rose, he laid there, staring at me, the questions evident in his vulnerable, tormented eyes.

  Steering Arms - The sprint car Steering combo arm bolts to the left spindle, providing the point where the drag link connects to the left wheel. The tie rod also attaches to the combo arm, with the other end of the tie rod bolting to the right steering arm, which is bolted to the right spindle.

  RAGER’S CELL PHONE started ringing, again.

  In an act of annoyance, Rager picked it up and tossed it across the room, his hands returning to my hips. Just the feel of his hands returning to my body left it on fire, a burning, aching touch. Rager seemed to be the same, his mouth and hands roaming over my skin.

  Rager stared at me¸ our bodies wrapped around one another, hearts racing, and I knew what he was thinking. I knew because I knew every look Rager ever gave me, his feelings so clear.

  The weight of everything settled over us, and it was evident what we’d done, the change that occurred. I was still married and technically cheated on my husband. But it didn’t feel like I had cheated on Easton. Not after knowing we were legally separated and he’d moved on.

  What it felt like was I’d finally given my heart what it wanted. The fast but steady beat told me so.

  Rager leaned forward, pressing his ear to my chest. Could he hear the pounding in my heart? Did he know how much I loved him right then? Could he feel it?

  He sighed, the motion moving the both of us. Turning my head, I looked at him now. So many questions were in his eyes. He wanted to know where we stood. He had every right to wonder.

  But I didn’t know where this left us. All I knew was that for the first time in my life, I had been fucked completely, in a lot of ways. Never had sex been this satisfying.

  In reality, it had nothing to do with the act of sex, and then again, it had everything to do with it.

  They say if
you were to put a frog in a pot of boiling water, it jumps outs immediately. My brother did this once. They do.

  If you put it in water and slowly bring it to a boil, the frog is cooked to death.

  Casten tried that too. Frog still jumped out the minute he was in the water.

  That wasn’t my point though.

  Say the frog did stay in and the water slowly boiled the frog. He was never expecting the water would kill him.

  He was unsuspecting.

  With everything in my life, I was that frog placed in boiling water. I jumped out immediately, sensing the danger.

  But with Rager, everything happened over time. I never knew what was happening to us because I was slowly being boiled.

  WHEN I WOKE up hours later, I was still in the living room on the floor and could hear a knocking sound. I lied there wondering if it would stop, praying it would, so I could return to that amazing dream where I finally had Rager.

  And then I realized, just as my eyes opened and the night returned as I stared at the ceiling, what had happened last night.

  Twisting my head to the left, I saw him lying next to me. Him.

  Rager.

  My dream wasn’t a dream. It was reality? Holy shit.

  Rager was still asleep, but as the knocking at the door continued, his eyes fluttered open and he turned over, his left arm flopping over my waist and drawing me into his side. “We still got victory lane.”

  What?

  “Arie, I know you’re home! Your car is in the driveway,” Bailey yelled behind the closed front door. “Don’t bitch out on me.” And then she laughed. “You know your front porch looks like someone tried to break it, right?”

  Rager smiled, his lips pressed to my bare shoulder. “Mmmmmm.”

  Why is he mmmming?

  “I woke up thinking about your mouth,” he mumbled against my skin, trying to draw me closer to his beating heart.

  Raising my hands from under the blanket, I propped myself up on my elbows and looked around at the destruction of my house. It seriously looked like someone broke in. Lamps were broken, the curtains on my window looking out at the backyard was off its rod and half hanging down, the other half still up.