#FinishLine (GearShark #5)

by Cambria Hebert

  When he was finished, he looked at me. “It’s basic. Just a confirmation that I’m Jayson Hamilton and I’ve been working at Gamble for five years. Then it asks for privacy, blah, blah.” He held the paper out to me.

  “You cool with what it says?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It’s pretty standard.”

  “I don’t need to read it. Long as you’re cool.”

  Hopper tossed the paper back on the desk and returned to his seat, picking up my hand once more. “Release it,” he said.

  “It’s going out first thing in the morning,” Gamble informed us.

  “The press is going to be relentless.” Joey worried.

  Lorhaven made a sound of agreement. “They’re already out.”

  “I’ve had a room prepared for you in the empty wing of the house. It’s best if you stay here a few days behind the gates, with security. At least until the statement is released and some other details are worked out.”

  We were supposed to stay here? The idea of security was nice, as was the thought of Hopper not having to watch his back every time he moved in front of a window, but I liked our apartment.

  We looked at each other. Hopper was conflicted.

  “Thanks, we’ll take you up on it,” I said, surprising everyone. Hopper’s icy eyes flared. I gave his hand a squeeze. “It’ll give you some room to breathe.”

  “Smart decision,” Gamble replied. Then he quickly shifted gears. “Now, about the tell-all.”

  “Whoa…” I cautioned. “What tell-all?”

  Gamble looked at me like he was definitely trying to be patient while gesturing to the statement Hopp tossed down. “That statement is only going to buy some time. Hopper is going to have to give an interview.”

  Loud rumbling thundered in my chest and up the back of my throat. “Like hell. He doesn’t owe anyone an explanation.”

  “If he wants the cameras and the sensationalism surrounding his abrupt, dramatic exit from Motocross, the death of his partner, and the fact he was essentially a ghost for the last six years to ever go away, then yes, he does.”

  “Fuck the press.” My voice was gravely and impatient. Sitting in this chair made me feel confined, and I wanted to pace. The muscles in my legs tensed. I thought to push up out of the seat.

  Hopper stopped me. The grip on my hand tightened; he pushed our clasped fingers down into his lap so they were almost trapped by his thighs. Glancing over, I noted the way his body sort of leaned toward me, though he was in his own chair.

  Shuddering with a deep breath, I forced myself to relax. He needed me close by, and I understood. It was a need that far outweighed my own.

  “Like it or not, you’re in the public eye, Arrow,” Gamble said, no ounce of coddling in his tone. “You were even before the season started, but now that it has and you’ve been driving so well, you’re becoming a household name with NASCAR fans. That puts Hopper there as well, especially since you’re in a gay relationship.”

  “If he were a woman, no one would fucking care,” I spat. It was hard to sometimes not feel resentful toward society as a whole. I just wanted to love him. I just wanted to be happy and mind my own damn business.

  Why couldn’t everyone else do the same?

  Gamble nodded. “True. But he’s not a woman.”

  “Unfortunately, he’s right,” Joey put in.

  Hopper made a sound. “I’m so relieved you realize I’m not a woman, Joey.”

  Jace guffawed, and I rolled my eyes.

  “You’re a moron, and I meant my father.” Her voice sounded exasperated. “The press is going to be ruthless, and the longer you’re silent, the longer you hide, the more mysterious and exclusive you’ll become.”

  “Especially since you’ve never talked to the media since Matt’s death.” Lorhaven chimed in.

  Turning in my seat, I gave him a look. “How deep did your damn PI dig?”

  Lorhaven met my stare. “You’re my brother. Obviously, I wanted all the dirt.”

  My body leaned over the arm of my chair toward Hopp. “That true?”

  He nodded. “I’ve never spoken out. Everything that’s been reported has been from other sources and leaked police documents.”

  “My office has been fielding offers for an exclusive since the second the story broke,” Gamble informed Hopper. “The more we say no, the higher the price goes.”

  Hopper snarled. “I don’t want their blood money.”

  “I can understand why you feel that way.” Gamble spread his hands in front of him as he spoke. “But it’s not blood money. It’s been almost six years. This is your chance to tell your side of the story. Matt’s side of the story. No one is going to see this as you profiting off of a loved one’s death. You’re being forced out. May as well get a little compensation.”

  “What’s a little compensation?” Jace inquired.

  “The bids are over seven figures now.”

  Shock rippled through me. Over a million dollars for an interview? That was insane.

  Hopper made a strangled sound, and his hand jolted in mine. “Are you fucking serious?” He gasped.

  “I’m always serious about money.” Gamble assured everyone.

  Lorhaven whistled low.

  “I think maybe some time to think about this—” I began, but Hopper cut me off.

  Calmly, he announced, “I’ll do it.”

  “What!” I demanded, shooting out of the chair. “Why would you want to dredge all that up again?”

  Hopper remained seated. “It’s unavoidable. The sooner I get it over with, the sooner we can move on.”

  I frowned. Was he doing this because he thought it was what I wanted?

  “GearShark called.” Gamble moved right on, accepting Hopper’s agreement.

  I looked to Jace for help. He shrugged. My stare moved to Joey. Her head bobbed encouragingly while she offered a reassuring smile.

  “They aren’t the highest bid, but they’re close. A couple talk shows have called—”

  Hopper cut him off. “No TV. Let’s do GearShark. They’ve done articles on everyone else. Their reporter Emily is tolerable.”

  “This isn’t going to be an article, Hopp,” I pointed out knowingly. “It’s going to be the cover story.”

  “Good, then I won’t have to do it again.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but a guy could hope.

  “So it’s settled. I’ll arrange it with GearShark and let you know when and where,” Gamble concluded. “Take the rest of the day off. Maybe tomorrow, too. I’ll have some extra security put in place at the speedway to keep the vultures out.”

  Hopper nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t talk to any of them,” he emphasized. “This cover feature must be the exclusive, all-access no one else is getting. It will drive up the price.”

  “I don’t care about the money.”

  “It’s not the money. It’s the negotiation,” Lorhaven told Hopp.

  Gamble chuckled. “Spoken like a true businessman.”

  “What can I do to help?” Joey asked.

  Hopp shook his head. “Nothing, but thanks.”

  “How about Jace and I go to your place and get you a change of clothes and stuff?” Joey offered.

  “Yeah.” I smiled at her. “That would be awesome.”

  It wasn’t much, but I could tell Joey really wanted to do something.

  “We’ll go now.” Her dark curls bounced as she tugged on my brother. “Dad, are you going back to the office?”

  “Of course.”

  “Will you be home in time for dinner?”

  “Probably not. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

  Hopper grimaced. “I’m sorry, Gamble. You wouldn’t have to put out fires if it weren’t for me.”

  Gamble made a scoffing sound. “I always knew this day would come, even from the first day I came looking for you. Besides, it’s good for business.”

  I didn’t care for the fact that my boyfriend’
s pain drove up stock prices and interest in the Gamble name.

  Joey groaned. “C’mon, Jace. We have stuff to pack and pizzas to pick up.”

  “Tacos.” I corrected.

  Lorhaven barked a laugh.

  “Tacos it is!” Joey announced. “We’ll be back later.”

  “Oh, one more thing,” Gamble said, effectively freezing everyone in place.

  Collectively, we turned to wait for him to speak.

  “Since there seems to be such confusion about this being a family around here, I’m implementing a weekly family dinner. Friday nights, six o’clock.”

  “Friday nights.” Joey groaned.

  Gamble cut a silencing look in her direction. “Yes, and I expect everyone to be here, except of course when we’re travelling for business.”

  We all gazed around, staring at each other.

  “Well!” Gamble demanded. “Have I made myself clear?”

  Everyone in the room (including me) mumbled various versions of, “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” He sniffed. “I’ll see you Friday. Hopper, I’ll let you know when we have the interview details.”

  Joey and Lorhaven were the first to head out. Gamble’s phone started ringing, and he began negotiating (frankly, he was scary when he was demanding shit), and the housekeeper came to lead Hopp and me to our room.

  Moving through the palatial home and the wing that was basically designated ours while we were hiding out, I couldn’t help but wonder what it was going to be like with Hopp when we were finally alone.

  Photographs weren’t just images preserved on paper. They were more than a moment in time captured forever.

  They were time machines. Genuine transportation into the past. Time was anything but stagnant. The passing of it changed everything from the way people looked and dressed to the places they went. Even in much smaller ways, you often didn’t notice until you looked back and were reminded of what used to be.

  When I walked out on my old life all those years ago, I left everything behind. My identity, my family, and everything that went with it. That meant photos.

  Walking into the room tonight and seeing that giant image of Matt filling the screen was startling. I was instantly transported back into a ghost town, a ghost town that once was filled with breath and life.

  It made me remember things—things I knew—but the pungency had faded. Like how carefree he was, how happy. How there was this light around him that drew in others.

  I had flashes of laughter, teamwork, and family. Then I relived exactly how it all went away.

  “If you would require anything else,” the housekeeper said, sweeping open the double doors to the room we were staying in, “I’ll be downstairs.”

  “Thank you,” Arrow replied, and I nodded.

  The second she turned the corner of the long hallway, our bodies rotated toward the other. Still standing in the hall, we stared for long moments. So many undercurrents flowed between us they blurred together like a giant tangled mess, sort of like the cords behind a TV.

  But there was one emotion that seemed to swell out around all the other tangled ones.

  Arrow held out his hand. Surrendering mine, I let him tow me into the room as if our solitude were an urgent matter.

  “They’re gonna be back soon with the food and shit,” he said, shoving the doors closed with a loud thud.

  “Tell me what you need the most, then,” I rasped, tugging his hand.

  Surprisingly enough, he replied. Not with words or even to turn the question around on me, as I suspected.

  Instead, he all but attacked me.

  My back rattled the doors when I collided with the wood. Arrow’s large palms covered my chest, pushing me into place before instantly moving in to plaster against my front.

  The hunger in his kiss incited my own. I growled ravenously and palmed the back of his neck. His head turned and angled in, sweeping his tongue deep into my mouth. I went slack against the door, reveling in the way his lips ground over mine.

  Between us, the heavy pounding of a heart was almost a mystery. Was it his? Was it mine? Was it both beating in tandem?

  Arrow pulled at the fabric of my shirt with impatience, dragging his hands down my sides and to my waist. Briefly, one hand left me, reaching between my back and the door to throw the lock.

  The sound rang of complete privacy, complete freedom. Gripping his shoulders tight, I pulled him back, held him at arm’s length. Our lips were slick, both chests heaving, and his eyes were dilated like an animal mid-hunt.

  “You’re mine, Hopp,” he demanded.

  Withdrawing my hands from his body, I pulled the T-shirt over my head and tossed it away. His brown eyes deepened to the color of fresh-brewed espresso, and his nostrils flared.

  With a smirk, I surrendered, pressing the backs of my hands against the door above my head. Arrow’s teeth sank into his pouty lower lip. Shooting forward with impeccable speed, his hands hooked into the waistband of my pants and pulled.

  Dropping to his knees, Arrow took off my shoes, socks, boxers, and pants in record speed. Dragging up the front of my legs, across my thighs, and then teasingly across my rigid dick, he stood to his feet, latching onto my nipple. It hardened instantly when his tongue swirled around, drawing the bud into his mouth for a suck.

  I was panting, trying not to call out his name. My arms began shaking as his tongue roamed my naked body. The second they began sliding down the wall, toward my sides, he made a sound, pinned them back up, and pressed along my body.

  My dick ached. It ached so much it actually tinged with pain. There was something about the dominant way he was coming at me right then. The greedy hunger he made no attempt to hide. The small part of my brain that still worked whispered the reason behind his complete need to claim me, and the rest of me urged him on.

  I didn’t want to think just then. I only wanted to feel.

  Arrow’s lips closed around the side of my neck and began sucking. I moaned, my hips jutted out, and he rubbed along my center like a cat.

  Of its own accord, my body started grinding against his. Regrettably his mouth ripped away, leaving a searing wet mark on my skin.

  I glanced over, shook my head, then tilted it, giving him full access to the spot again. “Come back.”

  Instead of complying, he dropped to his knees, grabbed hold of my hips, and took my dick deep into his throat.

  Collapsing against the door, I let my arms fall. Arrow grabbed my hands, knotted ours together, then brought them back to my hips. We both held my body while he fucked me with his mouth and tongue. The way he would pull back and lick over my swollen head made my knees quiver.

  “Babe,” I begged in a shouty whisper.

  Chill brushed over my wet dick when he pulled back. I shivered, but his hand wrapped around it, blocking any of the air.

  His tongue licked over my lips, and I whispered his name again.

  With his hand still wrapped around my rod, we stepped farther into the room, through the sitting room, toward the giant bed.

  My eyes latched onto it because I so desperately wanted to sink into the mattress with his weight on me.

  But he didn’t stop there. He kept walking. I trailed along like a puppy behind him. The shower in the attached bathroom was the size of our entire bathroom at home. It was custom tiled with what looked like travertine, had two giant showerheads on each end, and a giant rainfall showerhead hung from the ceiling in the center.

  Releasing my dick, A moved in, opened the seamless glass door, and turned on all three heads. The sound of falling water reminded me of a heavy rainstorm. Arrow closed and locked the bathroom door, figuring out the remote to engage the room-darkening blinds over the giant window and somehow illuminating the interior of the shower with low, glowing light.

  Even though he hadn’t touched me for several minutes, I was still rock hard. My balls were drawn up against my body, and my hands trembled like an addict who needed a fix.

  Arrow finally turne
d. Only an arm’s length separated us, but neither of us moved to closed the distance. My eyes followed his hand as it reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out several single-use packets of lube.

  Placing them between his teeth, he began undressing. My stomach muscles clenched as all his smooth, tattoo-covered skin was slowly bared. He was teasing me. Making me want him just as much as he wanted me.

  He didn’t have to try. Not ever.

  I physically longed for him.

  Once his clothes were gone and the shadows of the bathroom hugged his body, I grabbed my dick, jerking it once.

  Arrow took the packets out of his teeth and walked toward the shower stall. My eyes went directly to his ass. Just the thought of burying my dick there made my breathing erratic.

  “Figured it might be less messy in here,” he murmured, glancing over his bare shoulder. “And that way when you yell my name, I’ll be the only one to hear.”

  We stepped beneath the spray; it hit from every angle. My body, already completely sensitized from the thorough assault from A, broke out into goose bumps. He tossed the packets of lube on a nearby built-in shelf and drew me beneath the waterfall shower.

  We made out for a while, stroking each other’s dicks, fingering each other’s asses. It was a complete free-for-all the way our hands roamed beneath the gentle fall of the water.

  My head fell back, and drops rained over my face and cheeks. Arrow licked down my neck, sucking up the water as he went, reaching a hand around my body and dipping his fingers into my crack.

  “We need this shower at home,” I murmured, sounding completely drunk.

  Steam rose around us, creating a vapory veil that enclosed us like we were the only two people left on the planet.

  Arrow rubbed a hand over my dick, and I practically jumped away. He chuckled knowingly.

  Next thing I knew, he pushed me up against the wall of the shower, both my palms planted on the tile, my bare back and ass on full display. Arrow dropped down, gently held my ass, and licked up my crack. I shuddered and planted my legs a little firmer and let my head fall between my arms.

  His tongue circled my hole, and I asked him to take me.

  “I need some,” Arrow said between licks. Bracing myself with one arm, I held two packets down, and his hand snaked between my legs to grab them.