by Eden Connor
When he was rigid, he drove one knee into the mattress.
Crawling over me, he pressed his lips to mine with a sigh that pierced me like a knife. Pulling away, he kissed the end of my nose, sliding his lips along the ridge. He moved them to one eyelid, then the other, before he slid to my ear. His nip of my earlobe made me shudder with anticipation. The next silken touch behind my ear stirred more than my hair. The head of his cock brushed my knee and the heat rolling off him made me sweat almost as much as my guilty conscience.
I fucked up. I fucked up so damn bad.
“I’m scared to death. Scared you didn’t mean what you said upstairs. So you hear me and hear me good. It don’t matter if it takes till you’re twenty-eight, or thirty-eight, or fucking sixty-eight to stop runnin’. You will belong to me. I’m gonna move heaven and earth to see to it you don’t want no other man. Except the men I wanna share you with.”
The tears I’d fought for so many hours sprang to my eyes. He drew back and his eyes held a suspicious gleam, too. If I let him finish, he’ll feel like a fool when he learns—
“Caine—”
“Hush. I finally know what I wanna say to you.” He leaned in to kiss me. A forceful onslaught might’ve strengthened my resolve to fight his all-out assault on my soul, but his soft exploration broke me in new ways. My spine turned to jelly, my thoughts to mush, leaving me hating myself twice as much as before.
As surely as Caine’s his father’s son, I’m my mother’s daughter.
Settling onto his knees, he slid his fingers through the hair at my temples. “I know you’re gonna run again. I ain’t never gonna chase you, because foxes were born to run, but I’m gonna be right here, waitin’. I’ll take however much time together you give us. Or however little.”
Or however little. I felt those words like a blow to my chest.
“You can’t say things like that. That’s not fair.”
A sob caught in my throat, but his lips were there to ease it free.
“Not fair.” He didn’t phrase the words as a question. Dragging his fingers through my hair, he let his hands drop to my shoulders. My heart galloped when he curled huge palms around my neck. He rested sandpapered thumbs on the pulse point at the base of my throat. A tender touch, but possessive. I couldn’t survive either, not today, not from Caine. I raked my nails down his back, urging him to switch gears.
“Fair’s for games, Shelby. Don’t’cha know? That’s why folks like sports so much. Only games have rules to make things fair. Life ain’t no game. There’s just one rule. You gotta keep livin’ till you die.” To my horror, tears turned his lower lashes to spikes.
He backed away, dropping kisses along the centerline of my body, only to stop with his lips hovering above my navel. Warm breath swept my belly, stirring the curls over my mound. Heat painted my cheeks. Anywhere but there!
“Woman, I ain’t dyin’ without you.”
“Caine. Stop talking.” I tried to drag him closer. He clasped my wrist, digging his fingers into my skin.
“We’re doing this my way.” The flicker of pain in his gaze made me let go.
Dropping my hands to the mattress, I fought to endure the tender kisses he placed on my hip and mound. Every heartbeat called me a fool. Every breath dragged his scent into me. Every time I licked my lips all I could taste was Caine. I battled my emotions while he dragged his lips along the sensitive dip where my thigh joined my abdomen.
Each kiss along my inner thigh left a whispered promise. He worked velvet lips down my calf to the spot above the half-boots I’d worn every day since buying them for Ernie’s funeral. I panted. I writhed, fighting to press my knees together to stave off the mounting ache.
My body responded with a gush when he dug hard fingers into my thighs, pinning me the way he wanted, while he worked his way up the other leg. Chill bumps streaked up my legs and disappeared into my channel, where they turned to sparks.
At last, he moved past taunting my core and dipped his tongue into my belly button with a groan. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Fuck me, dammit.
Ignoring me, he pressed a kiss to each rib. The ticklish touch made me squirm, but Caine wouldn’t be tempted. He dragged his lips along the outer curve of one breast. Want curled low in my belly, until the sensation was nearly a cramp. His chest hair made contact with a nipple. I hissed and tightened my tummy. Now, his shaft lay between my thighs, but he made no move to enter me. I growled and dug my heels into his ass.
Chucking under his breath, he traced my areola with the tip of his tongue. The rigid point begged for attention, but was ignored.
Somewhere between one breast and the other, I gagged the voice in my head that chanted, idiot, idiot, so I could feel every thump of his heart.
I pressed my lips together to choke back any words. Admitting how I felt was impossible now. Tears slid down my temples, but I gave up my attempts to urge him along. I had to endure, but I’d been fucked by strangers and not felt such shame.
No. This isn’t fucking. I can’t let him make love to me for the first time when I might be pregnant by another man.
In the next heartbeat, I knew he’d take me in his time. He always had. He always would.
He raised his head and tugged my left hand from his shoulder. With a sinking heart, I watched him focus on the stupid diamond.
“Today was the worst day of my life. You wanna hear about the second-worst?”
To my horror, a tear ran down his cheek and plopped onto my breast. I didn’t want to know, but I nodded.
“Last weekend in Martinsville. When Macy told me that you and her had reached an understandin’ and said she’d get out of our way. So, I gotta wonder why you never called. Why you’re still wearin’ his goddamn ring.”
I opened my mouth, but he shook his head. “Don’t talk. Not yet. I know why.”
“I don’t—” Can’t cry. Not now.
“I went tearin’ outta their house that day, back at Christmas, after you left with that jerk. Dad jumped in his truck and come after me. Ran me off the road. Yanked my ass outta the cab and pinned me against the side.”
My heart twisted with pain. Caine’s eyes held the same expression they’d had when he’d hauled my suitcase to Robert’s car.
“Dad said, ‘Son, if you ain’t man enough to stand up under the way she’s gonna test you, every fuckin’ day of your life, then let her go. That testin’ ain’t about her bein’ redheaded. She’s not strong because she wants to be strong. She’s strong because there ain’t been no other choice. She will fuckin’ test you, to make sure you’re stronger, till your dyin’ day. Because she’s had a gutful of weakness already.”
Make him stop. Give me back my silent Caine. Not the one who drives every word into my heart like a stake.
Caine shifted his hips. At last, the head of his cock nudged my entrance. Resting the weight of his hips on me, he slid his fingers through mine, gripping my hands so tightly that his nails dug into the backs of my hands. Slowly, he lowered his chest to my breasts. His lips hovered above mine.
“So, here I am, baby girl. Skin to skin and heart to heart. Fuckin’ test me, woman. Tell me why you’re still wearin’ his ring.”
No. I pressed my lips together. The steady thump, thump of his heart knocked the faster beat of mine off course, like a damn engine. The traitorous muscle slowed to match his rhythm, like he owned it, and not me.
I could fight my mother. I could fight George England. I could fight the world, but I couldn’t fight my body when it urged me to give Caine everything. I wasn’t even sure that urge was weakness. It felt like something stronger. So strong it teased the words right past my lips.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
He paused long enough to add up that our encounter in Jonny’s shower had been eight weeks ago. Was that... excitement in his damn eyes? The expression dimmed when he realized he’d worn a condom and wasn’t the father.
Caine shook our entangled fingers free. Eyes blazing, he gripped my
upper arms. Jerking onto his knees, he lifted me until my nose touched his. His jaw worked, but he said nothing.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I-I haven’t taken a test. I wanted to, but they were locked up behind the counter at the store and I was ashamed to ask someone to get me a box. I decided they’d test me at the clinic anyway, but then, I wasn’t sure I wanted an abor—” The pain in his eyes shut off my babbled rush of words.
For the third time in my memory, his eyes didn’t look black. Tiny starbursts of pale blue danced in the deep navy depths, like whitecaps on a choppy Atlantic Ocean, seen from far, far above. Air from an overhead vent blew straight down on the mattress, chilling the silky spread, but fear sent the shivers up my spine.
Caine never hesitated to drop a hard hand on my ass, but he wouldn’t hurt me. He won’t hurt me. Will he?
In the next heartbeat, I was pissed off for being scared of him, for even a second. He’d better not hurt me. He and Colt had hurt me enough for one lifetime. I’d ached and tossed and turned and yearned for Caine, and for Colt, and for things I knew in my heart were wrong, and he’d made me crave those things.
I hated him because he probably had all the free ass he could handle on the road.
I hated him because he was my goddamn brother and yet, not my brother.
I loved him with every fiber, and hated him because it was so.
So, why not let him feel my pain? What had Caroline said? The fastest way to get rid of a man was to tell him your troubles?
“I don’t know if it’s Robert’s or Jonny’s.”
He let me fall onto the pillow.
Lurching forward, he slammed his hands into the pillow on either side of my head. My heart jumped, kicking my ribs in a frantic bid to be free. Unwanted tears spilled down my cheeks. I’d never paid much attention to how damn big he was. Since the night I’d turned eighteen, I’d seen him as a gigantic teddy bear that could fuck like a cave man, but cave men did more than fuck, didn’t they? They killed wild beasts with nothing more than rocks and clubs—
“Shelby.” He traced the side of my face with calloused fingertips. My heart lodged in my throat, but I’d die before I flinched. “Don’t you know? All the babies you’ll ever have already belong to me.”
I blinked, as though that would help my hearing. “W-what?”
“If it’s your baby, it’s my baby. I’ll raise it, feed it, wipe its ass, make sure it’s better’n you at math.”
“But, this—”
“Is another test? Did you think I’d fail, like Brandon? Don’t matter to me how that baby got started. She’ll slide into the world and land in my hands. And that’s all there is to that.”
Oh, God, the earnest look in his eyes sank through me, washing away the pain. Not just the pain of today, or any hurtful yesterday. Every bit of pain I’d ever felt submerged under a tidal wave of love.
“Much as it hurts me to say this, I’m gonna let you teach her to shift. Or, if you ain’t ready, I’ll hold you tight through whatever comes next.”
If there’s a place where the dead live on, Caine Hannah, your mama’s proud of you right now.
I was a fool.
A fool for this man. A fool to think I could ever give any other man more than a shadow of myself.
A single thrust of his hips split my heart wide open. I gripped his hands while he rocked into me. The tender honesty in his eyes stoked the slow burn in my belly every bit as much as his rigid cock. He never lifted his upper body, allowing nothing between us but our sweat. I locked my legs around his waist, arching with need and drowning in my two private oceans. Flurries of harder thrusts followed slow, teasing penetration, until my head spun with the ways he played my body.
“I love you.”
“That’s a race you’ll never win,” I murmured, shutting off any argument with a heated kiss.
I held on for dear life when he got to his knees. The same sensations that ran through me before a race ripped through me now. He tensed and gathered himself. Soon, the hard slap of skin against skin rang in my ears, but inside my heart, another sound played.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Forced open in new ways, my climax soared and broke, leaving me shuddering. He ground into me one final time, moaning with each pulse of his cock.
Glued together with sweat, I floated back to earth, only to meet his steady gaze.
“This is one test you better never try me on again.” His eyes flashed and he let go of my hands, only to grab my left wrist. Wiggling the ring over my knuckle, he tossed the thin band onto the nightstand, then lifted my hand to his lips. “This finger stays bare till I put somethin’ on it. Understand?”
With him still buried inside me, his words hit me with the impact of a vow.
“Yes.”
He rolled onto his side, pulling me with him. I squirmed until I had my head on his shoulder, then pushed my knee between his thighs.
His silent chuckle shook the bed. “Don’t get too comfortable. The world’s still blowin’ up around us.”
I had to process too many emotions before we could talk about... us. Thankful Caine seemed to sense that, I seized the first question flitting through my head. “Why would Dale take Jesse on as a partner? Why does he even need one? I thought that was what sponsors were for.”
He cupped my head and brought my lips to his before he answered. “If one sponsor gives you five bucks and another promises you fifty, and the one writin’ the big check reneges, the guy who gave you the five bucks still expects to see the car out there. The actual money we’re talkin’ ranges from a quarter of a million, to thirty-five million bucks. You can’t go racin’ without about five million in the bank—per car—for rainy days. Jesse’s pockets are pretty deep.”
Too much was riding on this. Robert and his father were right. If I went out there, I’d screw up.
Then, my brain made one of those offbeat connections. In the memory, Dale and I were in his truck in the teacher’s parking lot at the high school, waiting for Coach Tindall to show up. He’d started talking about Robyn. About how the mean girls tore her down. But, he put some of the blame on Robyn, too, for not believing in herself.
Buildin’ her up got to be too damn much for me. I was just a kid myself.
Ernie’s voice chased the confrontation with Coach Tindall away. But only you have the car and two million people who already listen to what you got to say.
Thanks to the smack upside the head that Kolby had given me, that number had soared far north of three million this semester, because playing around on social media was easier than trying to decipher words I’d learned back in third grade. Every time I’d get frustrated, I’d peel off task and play on Twitter or Instagram.
He took my hand, smoothing his thumb across my knuckles. “Dad failed with that little bastard and he can’t admit it.”
I jerked my hand away. “Failed? How?”
He sighed. “Quit lookin’ at me like you’re pickin’ the spot to cut my throat. The man don’t walk on water. Dad had Kolby winnin’ his first couple of years in the Cup series, but, just like Ervin’s buddy, Randall Underwood, Kolby quit listenin’ when he started rackin’ up trophies. Dad’s done everything he could think of to dial that motherfucker back in, but Kolby ain’t hearin’ him.”
Assuming Caine was right, if I did what Jesse suggested and kept quiet, Kolby would still be on the track next season, holding a grudge. If he needed professional help—how long before Barnes killed someone?
Grabbing my hand again, Caine repeated the stroke across my knuckles. His voice was so low, I had to strain to make out the words. “Dad’s never forgiven himself for my mama takin’ her own life. Not that there was one damn thing he coulda done about that. But, the man might have a savior complex.”
Kolby’s misbehavior wasn’t my only problem. “Do I need to worry about Colt taking matters into his own hands? Or you? Kolby made bail. Sounds like he’ll be back at work any day now.”
His har
d eyes sent a shiver down my spine. “If I was him, I wouldn’t walk into an empty garage any time soon.”
I grabbed his hand this time. “Caine, if anything happens to Kolby, for oh, the rest of his fucking life, they’re gonna look at you and Colt first. So, stop telling me I’m the one limiting our time together if that’s how you’re thinking.”
“One of these days, I want you to tell me what you really think.” His grin looked more like a wince. “Right after I go out and buy one of them athletic cups.”
I pushed to a seated position, grabbed a pillow to hold in my lap, and crossed my legs Indian-style. “They’re going to ask about the drag race. Did Dale cheat?”
He traced the silver studs on the toes of my boots. “The only cheatin’ done at that goddamn race is the way Barnes is cheatin’ you outta the credit for bein’ one of the finest goddamn short track racers ever born.”
“Exaggerate much?”
Something flashed in his eyes. “You don’t even know it, do you? I’d kill to be able to do what you do.” He chuffed out a laugh. “First fuckin’ time Dad slapped you behind the wheel of the ‘Cuda, you wound that car all the way out. Not a lick of fear. Not of the car, not of Dad. He loves to tell people about that. Take that attitude out there with you and this’ll go just fine.”
“Don’t avoid the question.”
“Kolby knew about the engine swap before the race. He still put his nose on the line. How’s that cheatin’? You hold your head up and answer any question they ask. Just do it smart. So the bastard don’t sue you for defamation or some shit.”
He took a deep breath. “If you can drop George to his knees like you done Dad, when you told him about Colt, I reckon that’s what needs to happen.”
He raked both hands though his hair. “Follow your instincts, Shelby. If we get kicked out of NASCAR, we get kicked out. George won’t go after Dad. I’ll still be able to support us. You just won’t be havin’ them nasty crab legs you like as often.”
I rolled to the edge of the bed and snagged my dress. Grabbing my phone out of the side pocket, I logged into Twitter. What are the call signs of the local news stations?
