by Alice Ward
Laura rolled her eyes.
“Look,” I said, crouching behind her and studying her reflection in the mirror. God, she was sexy when she got riled up. “We’re not doing the full-on girly look, Emma. And we don’t want to make you a Kardashian. We want you to be you.”
“Sure doesn’t seem like it,” she pouted, lowering her chin to her chest.
Hell, this woman was tugging me toward her, even now. I wanted to pick up where we left off, delving my hands underneath that robe. Instead, I said, “Hey. Look at me.”
She did, through the mirror.
“No, not at my reflection,” I said, turning the chair toward me. “Look at me.”
She raised her chin from her chest, and her dark eyes met mine. That worry crinkle I’d seen on the balcony when she’d trembled in her fear of heights was back. I had the urge to reach out and smooth it down, to hold her to me like I’d done then.
“I won’t put you in anything that you don’t love. If you hate it, I’ll reshoot the whole thing. Trust us. Trust me. Okay?”
She stared at me for the longest moment, and in those seconds, I saw all the fear she worked so hard to hide rise to the surface. She suppressed it quickly, so quickly I would have missed it had I not been looking at her so closely. Finally, she nodded, shifting in her seat, but I could tell she was still doubtful.
Adlar moved in carefully, bracing for resistance, of which she gave him none. Instead, she took her cell phone — I noticed she hadn’t forgotten that — and started thumbing over it like she’d owned one all her life as Adlar worked. He removed the towel from her head, revealing wet hair, and she closed her eyes as he started to brush it out. I stood up, because I needed to get away from her before I pulled her to me, opening that slinky robe and exploring what was underneath.
When I turned back to Laura, she was eyeing me. I had to look away, the guilt had to be everywhere on my face. What I’d done with Emma last night? What I wanted to do to her right now? It was so heavy in my mind that I thought satellites orbiting the Earth were probably getting the message.
Clearing my throat, I squeezed past her, then went to the lounge area to cool down and try to get my shit together.
An hour later, Adlar appeared in the doorway, rolling up the cord on his hair dryer. “If you want me to take on those eyebrows, Herr Cage, I am more than willing.”
I waved him away. “It’s fine. Is she…?”
He nodded. “She is done.” He turned and motioned her out.
I froze as my eyes fell on her. My cock went from flaccid to hard in zero point two seconds. All it took was her walking out, a small, pleased smile on her face. Her hair fell in soft waves around a face that was still all her, just smoother and more defined. She looked sun-kissed, dewy and glowing. And she was smiling, the hint of pink on her lips catching the light.
She touched her hair as I watched her, stunned. “Is it okay?”
I nodded. I was about to say how gorgeous she was when Laura beat me to it. “Oh, honey, you look spectacular!”
I just nodded dumbly. “Yes. Very nice,” I mumbled.
She brought her fingers to the corner of one eye, and I realized there were tears there. So there was a feminine side underneath all that grit, after all.
“It’s all right, isn’t it?” Laura asked, worried.
“Oh. Yes. I just never really felt pretty before.” She gave a soft, embarrassed little laugh.
“Don’t cry, liebling. I show you how to do this yourself,” Adlar said to her, touching up her makeup. She smiled gratefully at him. This soft side of her made her even more attractive.
Laura cleared her throat. “We have your uniform. Let’s get you in it, because we need you to be on the oval in fifteen minutes.”
***
The heat was stifling out on the oval, so it didn’t allow me any breathing room.
Emma didn’t give us any more trouble after the makeover. She seemed happy with her uniform and thrilled with the mock-ups of her race car, a black Fusion with the yellow and black UnCaged logo taking center stage on the hood.
We had the oval to ourselves for two hours, and as I watched her race round and round, achieving speeds of over one hundred and eighty miles per hour, I couldn’t help but replay the previous night in my head. How this fierce powerhouse had leaned into me, afraid of heights. How her breasts had felt when I’d molded them with my hands. How she’d cried out as I licked and sucked on her sweet flesh.
I’d have done anything to feel that again.
Pushing my hands through my hair, I resigned myself to another date with my cock in the shower later that night.
The cameras rolled as her car came skidding into pit road. Before the car had even completely come to a stop, she’d dropped the window net, slid out of the window, tore off her helmet, and said to the camera in her low, confident voice, “Drive like a girl. I dare ya.”
The crew began to applaud, something that had never happened at our previous shoots.
Laura pumped her fist. “That was good,” she said to me, jostling my elbow a little. “Like I said, she’s a natural.”
I couldn’t say what I wanted to say, or else I would’ve given myself away. That wasn’t just good. It was phenomenal. Glorious. I couldn’t have been more pleased even as my body was in agony.
When we were wrapping up, I pulled out my phone as a distraction and headed away from the set as I heard someone call, “Mr. Cage!”
I turned around. Emma was running toward me, holding her helmet under her arm and smiling.
And I’d nearly made a clean getaway.
She stopped just inches from me, her cheeks flushed. She had the same flush on her cheeks when I’d stripped her nearly naked. Close up, in the dying light of day, I could see faint brown freckles over the bridge of her nose. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to thank you, boss.”
“Hey. Stop the boss shit,” I said, digging my hands into my pockets.
“Sorry.” The blush deepened. “You were right. It’s going to be a great ad.”
“Not because of me,” I said. “Because of you.”
Everything was because of her. The best ad we’d ever done. This raging hard-on that was making me have to shift my stance constantly to avoid detection. This maddening urge to hold her, kiss her, take her to my place and make love to her all night long.
I wanted those nipples in my mouth again. I wanted them so bad my salivary glands were working overtime, and I could taste the salty firmness of them on my tongue.
She looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. I knew what was coming. “About last—”
I forced myself to give her a brotherly clap on the arm, which stopped her dead. “Good job. Be on the track tomorrow morning for practice. Laura should have given you your schedule.”
And I turned and walked away.
CHAPTER NINE
Emma
I was all shades of pissed off when I headed into the training center later that week. Laura had given me a new training schedule, but it might as well have been written in Greek. Though Locke had said he’d show me around the training center, he was MIA. Maybe he wasn’t even in action since I hadn’t gotten any texts from him at all. Maybe he was just dead in a ditch somewhere.
To add to that, before Laura even had a chance to show me around the center, she’d gotten called away to another meeting. She texted me that she wouldn’t be around again today because she was flying to San Jose for business.
No mention of her elusive brother, who I would’ve had a hard time believing actually existed if I couldn’t still feel and taste him, nearly a week after my initial “Welcome to Daytona.”
Some great welcome. The way he’d left me, red-faced and wanting more, was like a grand old “fuck you.”
So basically, I felt like a boat without a rudder, left adrift in a town where I didn’t know anyone. I spent most nights playing Candy Crush on my new phone, which had quickly become my best friend while I missed my fam
ily and Wintersburg like crazy.
I might have been green and new to all this, but this didn’t sound like the best way to treat a multimillion-dollar investment.
It wasn’t that they’d left me completely alone though, to be fair. Laura Cage had been texting me nonstop since I got here, trying to make sure their investment was well spent. She was even worse than that beepy piece of shit on my wrist, which I still had a hard time remembering to wear.
But she wasn’t my family. For the fifth night in a row, I ended up ordering delivery Domino’s pizza, eating a whole pie myself and sending a million mammoth, rambling texts to Brody until he finally came back with, Can you fucking leave me alone now? I’m with a girl, and she thinks you’re a psycho ex.
NASCAR drivers didn’t get much time practicing on the speedway — it was against the rules. Most often, they had to rely on realistic simulators, like the one UnCaged had arranged to have set up in the backyard of the offices, in a nondescript warehouse next to the river. It was for all their employees, but they’d had a section of it all set up for me, with the simulator, my own gym, and all kinds of fancy equipment.
Now that I had all the stuff that I thought would give me the edge, it turned out that I didn’t know what to do with it.
Despite never having driven in one before in my life, I’d quickly gotten the hang of the simulator and had been practicing on it every morning to get strong enough to hit my five hundred. I had to say, it helped. When I got done with my first two hundred, I felt the fatigue. And the parts of the schedule from Laura that I could make out were no joke. It had me doing something from eight in the morning until five at night. She had me running five miles a day, then doing the simulator all afternoon. I lifted free weights, because at least I knew how to handle those, and stayed away from the machines.
But something had quickly begun to feel off. After the first couple of days, when all my questions to people around me were met with, “Where’s Mr. Cage? He’s usually all over this,” I realized what it was.
Locke Cage was deliberately ignoring me.
It was bad enough that he’d left me high and… incredibly wet… in my apartment a week ago. I’d spent that night cursing his name. But then, the following day, he’d been all sweet to me, giving me encouragement while that Curling Iron Nazi Adlar tried to pretty me up, so I softened. As he sat there, whispering words that made me want him all the more, I thought that maybe we could pick things up where we’d left them.
And then he just walked away. Again.
I wasn’t going to give him a chance for a third strike. He was out, right now.
At least I told myself that.
When I wasn’t thinking of that rock-hard chest of his. His eyes. The way the right side of his mouth lifted higher when he smiled.
I sighed.
I sucked at playing games with men. I didn’t have time for that shit. But it soon became clear that Locke was a master at it, and the name of this game was, pretend nothing happened.
I wouldn’t have dealt with that shit, had it been anyone else. I would’ve called him out and made him rue the day he ever thought he could pull that shit with me. But something made me bite my tongue.
Namely, a multimillion-dollar contract.
My phone buzzed with a text, and I picked it up. No surprise to see it was from Laura, asking if I was having a good day. Just seeing her last name put me back on the roller coaster of emotions her brother had me on. I scowled. He didn’t have the right to do that. To peel back my layers and delve further into me than anyone else had ever gone, then just leave.
I went back to being mad as a hornet.
I texted back, jabbing in the letters as if the phone was Locke’s face. I’m good, thanks.
Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?
I looked around. I’d done fine with a lot less in my life. But my brother’s voice was whispering in my ear. This was my one shot, and these little extras were here to make me into the best athlete I could be. I didn’t want anyone telling me what to do, including that overpriced beepy bracelet that I was forced to wear, but…
I sucked in my pride.
I could use a trainer to show me how to use all these fancy gadgets in here.
No problem, she texted back. We’ve got plenty of those.
When I slid into the simulator seat, Bruce, who ran the training center, adjusted the ride for me. “Going to go for four hundred today?”
I hadn’t gotten there yet, hadn’t even gone much past three hundred, but I needed something to work off this stress. I fixed the helmet over my head, feeling adrenaline coursing through my veins. “Hell yeah. Let’s do this.”
The simulator was a hell of a lot easier than a regular race. For one, I didn’t have to worry about dying, and it wasn’t nearly as trying on the muscles. It was a good lesson in endurance, and about the best practice a driver like me could get off an actual track. I tightened my gloves and shuffled my backside into the molded seat.
Bruce’s voice was being piped into my ears since he was playing pit chief, taking the place of Brody, who was home doing daily therapy to build his strength. “All right, James. And you are on.”
I waited for the countdown and tore out of the gate, pressing hard on the accelerator so I could get where I was comfortable. This race had me at pole position, so I didn’t have to get around many obstacles. Should have been easy.
But it wasn’t.
I started out fine. But by lap twenty, I started thinking about my family. Being in a new city, away from everyone I knew, had worn on me. Hadn’t seen my parents in a week, which was by far the longest time I’d ever been away from them. Brody was coming next weekend to train as my pit crew chief, but he’d been taciturn during my marathon texts and strangely quiet during our phone conversations, when I gave him the rundown on everything that was happening. I tried to tone it down, but I could almost feel his green-eyed monster eying me. Not that I could blame him. I would’ve been sore about it too.
And then I started thinking about Locke. Weirdly enough, aside from Laura, who was more like my mother, he was the closest thing to a friend I had out here. And I got it. He didn’t want to mix business and pleasure. I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea myself, but I needed someone to connect with, and not just in a sexual way.
But lately, I couldn’t think about Locke without thinking about sex. He’d made that impossible the second he peeled off his shirt and gave me a glimpse of the chiseled manliness underneath.
There was no denying that I’d never been as attracted to a man as I’d been to Locke. When my mind wandered to what we’d done on the balcony, how his mouth felt on mine, the heavy, tortured groans he’d made as he explored my body… I felt my focus shake. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead and into my eye, but I blinked it away, even though it burned.
I made it another ten laps before my thoughts wandered again, this time moving right past what had happened on the balcony. It spiraled out into a fantasy, and soon I was letting out a gasp at the thought of our bodies pressed together, imagining each one of those delicious muscles flexing as he thrust into me…
Shit!
Around a curve, I miscalculated and ended up veering too far to the outside of the oval, clipping the car beside me. The simulator spared me all the flames and the likely whiplash that would’ve happened as my car flipped. Instead of real life screaming, it flashed Danger! Danger!
Crash and burn.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on the steering wheel as Bruce’s voice floated into my ear. “What happened, Emma?”
Locke happened. Locke and that deadly body of his, which he’d made the mistake of showing me. And I’d made the mistake of looking at.
Dammit.
Lifting off my helmet, I blew a stray lock of hair off my face and slid out of the seat, skulking toward where Bruce was coming from the control booth to meet me, a confused look on his face. “You were killing it, the first hundred.”
&n
bsp; “I know, I know,” I mumbled, not willing to say what really happened; that I’d lost it because I’d been drooling at the thought of being in Locke’s strong arms. “But I—”
I froze and swallowed my words as Locke stepped out of the booth behind Bruce.
I blushed red as the Phoenix sunset and hoped I could blame it on the heat of the simulator. I hadn’t seen him in days, and he was like food to a starving orphan. He was wearing a black tech shirt and running shorts that bared his well-sculpted thighs and calves.
“Fucked up?” he finished for me, crossing his arms over his chest.
I frowned.
Bruce was nice about it, at least. “It happens. Want to start again?”
I massaged my shoulder and stretched, rolling it. I was already fatigued from running earlier in the day. Plus, Locke was here now, and that meant I wouldn’t be able to concentrate at all. Shit, that was not boding well for my racing career, if I couldn’t perform in front of my own sponsor. “I think I’ll hold off until tomorrow.”
Locke gave me a hard look. “You think that’s wise? Looks like you need all the practice you can get.”
I didn’t know if he was talking from the perspective of the owner of UnCaged or because it was just wired into his brain to give me shit no matter what I did. “I’m listening to my body,” I said. “Good athletes do.”
He let out a short laugh, and I had to wonder what I said that he found so objectionable. That listening to your body was important? That I was good? Or that I was an athlete? Anyway I sliced it, it pissed me off.
“What?”
He shook his head like he had no opinion, but I could tell he was making judgments in that head of his, and not kind ones. Bastard.
Bruce touched my elbow. “Tomorrow will be another day.” He had his Dale Earnhardt ballcap on and was ready to leave for the night. He looked at Locke. “If you’re hanging around, mind locking up for me, Mr. Cage?”
Locke shook his head and waved him away, still eyeing the simulator doubtfully. It suddenly struck me.
“Oh. I get it,” I singsonged as I patted the cage of the simulator. “You think this is a video game, is that it?”
