“It’s not,” I cry, clinging to her slim body.
“Tell me everything,” she says.
I spill the entire story. From the night at the club, to our seaside rendezvous, to the night we spent hidden away together, getting to know each other’s minds and bodies.
“Did you guys...?” Bex asks.
“No. We didn’t have sex. I mean...Not technically. He said he wanted that night to be about me trusting him. Knowing that he just wanted to make me happy.”
“Damn,” Bex whistles.
“Tell me about it,” I laugh, wiping away the tears from my eyes. “I’m so lost, Bex. I have no idea what to do.”
“Have you heard anything from him since the race?” she asks.
“No,” I say, “Not a word.”
“I’m sure he’s just caught up traveling,” she says, “You guys have plenty of time to sort things out.”
“I don’t know how we can,” I say softly.
“Look,” Bex says, “I stand by what I’ve said from the start. If you really like this guy, you shouldn’t let anything come between you. Not your family, not F1, not some stupid championship. Your happiness is more important than any of that.”
“Thank god you’re here,” I whisper, laying my head on Bex’s shoulder.
“You kidding?” she says, “This is what best friends are built for. Your guy problems might be slightly more epic than I’m used to, but...”
“Tell me about it,” I sigh, “Some girls try online dating, I fall for my brother’s arch nemesis. Different strokes, I guess.”
Chapter Ten
Together Again
Late that first night, I finally hear from my star-crossed lover. Well, heard is an overstatement. As I’m getting into bed, exhausted and tense, a message pops up on my phone. I snatch up the device, hungry for word of Harrison.
“Staying at another hotel,” it says, “See you as soon as I can.”
That’s it.
All week leading up to the next Grand Prix, my phone is glued to my hand. I try and keep my mind on my work, but some part of me is always wondering about Harrison. Team McClain has him on lockdown, training hard to give him an edge over my brother. For days, I don’t hear a thing. My nerves are frayed, my mind dizzy. My dad and brother barely notice, except when it begins to affect my work. Finally, on Thursday morning, Enzo insists that I take the night off and relax.
I tell him that I’ll do my best.
I’ve been resisting the urge to contact Harrison, but I can’t hold out any longer. I shoot him a text, asking him to meet me at a bar far away from the hotel where my team is staying. After an agonizing wait, he finally replies and tells me that he’ll be there. The rest of the day, my nerves are like live wires. I try and calm myself down with a long soak in the bath, scented candles, a glass of wine.
As I recline in the hotel bathtub, I let my thoughts stray to Harrison. I remember that night in Barcelona, when he spent hours pleasing me with his hands and his mouth. I can feel myself begin to ache, and let my own lets stray down to that tender place between my legs. The moment I let myself think of Harrison, I find myself right on the edge of coming. I roll my fingers over that throbbing spot, remembering the feel of Harrison’s hands. Pleasure ripples through my body, and I gasp at the intensity of the sensation. Trembling, but finally a bit relaxed, I pick myself up out of the tub and ready myself for the evening.
I arrive at the bar dressed in a simple LBD and soft, natural makeup. The last thing I want is to let myself think this is some kind of a date before having any idea where Harrison’s mind is. For all I know, he could be completely repulsed by me, after my brother’s behavior in Barcelona. Maybe I’m guilty by association, or relation, in his eyes. I order a glass of wine for myself and am just taking the first sip when the door swings open and Harrison walks in.
He looks as devastating as ever in black jeans and charcoal tee shirt. In this tiny, quiet bar, he stands out like a super nova. His eyes find me across the room, and a wave of relief washes over me. There’s no resentment or anger in his gaze—only earnest desire. Harrison crosses the room and sits down beside me, drinking me in with those baby blues of his.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” he says.
“Oh, I think I might,” I smile.
“I’d give anything to be able to kiss you right now, he tells me, leaning in close.”
“Why don’t you then?” I ask, my heart hammering.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Absolutely.”
Harrison takes my face in his strong hands and brings his mouth to mine. I stifle a moan as his lips brush against my own. I didn’t realize how much I missed touching him, tasting him. It’s hardly been any time at all, but I’m totally hooked on him. We break away from our kiss, grinning like maniacs.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I say softly.
“How could I ever stay away from you?” he asks. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t sneak away sooner. My keepers have me on quite the short leash these days.”
“It’s OK,” I tell him, “Trust me, I get it. I just...I was so afraid that you were through with me. After what happened at the race.”
“What?” Harrison says, “I thought for sure that you’d want nothing to do with me after I flew off the handle and threatened your brother.”
“You were totally justified in that,” I tell him, “Enzo crossed the line.”
“I don’t understand why he’s coming after me,” Harrison says, shaking his head, “I guess he feels blindsided, but his attacks are way too personal. I can’t back down, Siena. I can’t let him think he has me beat.”
“I know,” I say softly.
“And you still...want to see me?” Harrison says, “You don’t think I’m the enemy?”
“I think...I don’t want to talk about my brother any more tonight,” I say. “We have tonight to be alone together. Let’s actually be alone, OK?”
“OK,” Harrison smiles, “But in that case...I think we’d best find somewhere a little more private. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands off you.”
I leave my barely-touched glass of wine sitting on the bar as Harrison leads me to his car. We jump in and take off through the city together. Harrison lets his hand rest just above my knee, and his touch is making my head spin. We’re flying along the shoreline, the beautiful coast sprawling out before us. Under Harrison’s command, the car sails along smooth and fast. I don’t know what’s turning me on more, his hand on my thigh or his impeccable driving skills. What can I say—I respect a man who knows how to handle a car like this.
“Harrison,” I say, “Where are we going?”
“I haven’t a clue,” he laughs, “Know any sleazy motels?”
“Not off the top of my head,” I grin, “But I think I have a better idea. Why don’t you pull over somewhere?”
His eyes snap toward me, brimming with surprise and excitement. “Are you serious?” he asks me.
“You bet your ass I am,” I grin.
“You wouldn’t rather go the whole rose petals and smooth jazz route?” he asks.
“What I want,” I say, resting my hand on his thigh, “Is for you to pull this car over, take me in the backseat, and make good on your promise to show me what you’re made of. Think you can handle that, Davies?”
In reply, Harrison swings the car off the main drag and down a dusty trail overlooking the water. We screech to a halt on a cliff side overlook, the city of Monte Carlo spread out before us. Without saying a word, Harrison grabs me by the hips and pulls me into his lap. My dress bunches up around my hips as I straddle him in the driver’s seat, bringing my lips to his neck. I kiss him deeply as his hands run down my back, taking firm hold of my ass and pulling me tightly against him. I can feel him growing harder by the second as I run my tongue lightly against his skin.
“I don’t know how I managed to go so long without this,” I moan.
“It’s only been a wee
k,” he laughs, “Are you that crazy about me?”
“And then some,” I tell him, running my hands along his chest.
“Good,” he says, “That makes two of us.”
Harrison buries his strong hands in my curls and pulls my face toward his. Our mouths move together, furious and searching. I writhe against him as his hands find my breasts, and bite down on his lower lip in excitement. In a frenzy, I slip my hands up under his tee shirt, feeling every defined muscle of his chest. I lean back and tug the shirt up over his head, making the car horn screech accidentally. I fall off of him, laughing, and scramble into the back seat, looking mischievously over my shoulder, beckoning him to follow. He certainly doesn’t need much persuading.
He kneels over me as I lay myself out before him. A dozen tattoos are scrawled all across his chest and arms, and in the darkness I can just make out the words inked below collarbone: La Vida Loca. Looking up at my gorgeous, staggeringly built, insatiable partner, I have to agree. This is the crazy life, indeed.
I arch my back as Harrison reaches around me and unzips my dress. The garment falls away from my body, and I lay before him in a lacy red bra and panties. He groans at the sight of my naughty lingerie, running his hands along my slender waist.
“So you were planning to seduce me,” he teases, running his thumbs over my hard nipples, “No one wears red lace without meaning it.”
“If I’d had my druthers, I would have had you right in that bathroom stall the first night we met,” I tell him, letting my knees fall open, “But I think a car is a little more appropriate, don’t you think?”
“I’m not thinking much of anything except how incredible you are,” he tells me, his eyes raking along my bare body, “You’re beautiful, Siena. You drive me absolutely mad.”
“Harrison...I breathe, as he lowers his powerful body onto mine, “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted this.”
“But I do,” he tells me, snapping open my bra with ease, “How I do...”
He rips the bra away from my body, sending it flying into the front seat. I groan as his full lips close around my nipple. He flicks his tongue against the tender little rise, sending sparks of pleasure straight down to my throbbing sex. I reach down and snap open his belt buckle, hungry to feel him in my hands. He slides his jeans and briefs down over his rock hard ass, and I lower my eyes breathlessly.
“Oh my god...” I say, taking in the sight of him.
He tugs off my panties, and I take his hard member in my hands. I can barely fit him in both hands and I work my fingers up and down the length of him, drawing a satisfied moan from his throat.
“Jesus, Siena,” he says, his voice gruff. “You see what you do to me?”
“I can show you much more...” I breathe, running my fingers down along his stiff length. I slip out from under him and pull him to sitting before me. I lower myself onto my knees and bring my lips to his chest. Working my hands up and down his member, I let my lips trail down along the firm panes of his pecs, further across every distinct ab. His fingers work themselves into my hair as I plant a kiss just below his navel. I let my eyes flick up to his as I lower my lips and, ever so slowly, take the very tip of him into my mouth.
“Fuck...” he groans, his hips bucking toward me.
I run my tongue along his sensitive expanse, taking as much of him as I can into my throat. The sheer size of his manhood is staggering, and I know that there’s no way I’ll be able to fit too much of him between my lips. But I know full well how to make him feel amazing all the same. I keep my hands rubbing along his shaft as my tongue flicks against his head. His breathing quickens, and I can feel him growing harder with every lick and stroke. I relish the taste of him, thrilled to be pleasing him just as he pleased me the other night.
Just before he loses it, Harrison lifts me away and presses my back down onto the backseat. I blink up at him in the low light, and see that his eyes are gleaming with barely restrained abandon. He pushes my legs open and poises himself above me. I steady myself, pressing my palms back against the car door. I can feel the tip of him resting right against my slick slit.
“I need you,” I whisper, “Please. Let me feel you...”
My words trail off as Harrison presses himself into me, slowly parting my silky flesh. I’ve never had anyone so huge in my life. He slips into me inch my inch, filling me more entirely than I could have ever imagined.
“You’re so tight...” he growls.
“I’m not used to guys as big as you,” I gasp.
“You OK?” he asks.
“Better than that,” I say.
He rocks back and sinks in deeper, and I cry out in pleasure. I can feel him in the very core of me, opening places I never even knew existed. I grab onto his firm ass and pull him in deeper, leaning into his every pass. His thrusts come harder, faster, and I meet every one. Our words give way to moans and cries as we ride each other, bucking against the back seat. The car windows fog up around us, shrouding us from the outside world.
My breasts billow against his chest as he lowers himself to me, and I kiss him hungrily as he drives into me. I can feel a hot, irresistible pressure building in my core, radiating out from our point of connection. I’m getting so close to the edge, and my entire body is brimming with sensation as he rubs against my clit with each powerful thrust.
“Harrison,” I cry, clutching onto his broad shoulders, “I’m...I’m gonna...”
“Come with me,” he rasps, thrusting as hard as he can.
We topple over the edge together, bursting at the seams with ecstasy. Rippling waves of sensation break through my body, as I hold onto Harrison for dear life as I ride them. His head is thrown back, his eyes closed blissfully as gushes into me, filling me up. My legs tremble uncontrollably, and I give myself over fully to this unbelievable moment.
When the blazing burst of pleasure passes through us, we collapse into each other, our chests rising and falling in time. My head falls back against the seat, and Harrison rests his cheek against mine. For a long moment, it’s all we can do to catch our breath. He pushes himself onto his elbows, and smoothes the hair off my forehead, looking down at my dazed, satisfied face. Am I crazy, or is there something shining in his eyes that goes deeper than pleasure, further than lust?
“I’m hell to get along with sometimes,” he says quietly, “I’ll tell you that right now. I drink like a fish, I lose my temper, and I’m nothing if not wildly impulsive. But I can promise you one thing, Siena. I’ll do everything in my power to keep from hurting you.”
“I know Harrison,” I tell him, resting my palm against his cheek, “I’ll do my best, too. Whatever it takes.”
“That’s all I ask,” he says, “Now come on. Let’s make good on that drink we were gonna have, yeah?”
Chapter Eleven
So Good
It’s amazing what a good screw in the backseat of a car and a bottle of wine will do for your spirits. Over the next couple of days, through the preliminary runs and qualifying race, I feel like I’m walking on a freaking cloud. Enzo’s posturing, Dad’s snapping, Charlie’s brooding...everything just rolls right off my back. All I can think about is Harrison—all of Harrison. Bex nearly faints when I tell her about our little road trip. She’s the only person I’ll ever tell, of course. As happy as I am, I know that whatever’s going on between Harrison and I has to be kept a secret.
The day of the second Grand Prix rolls around, but the chaos of the event can’t touch me. I smile through press conferences, cool and collected no matter what the reporters throw my way. I do my best to diffuse the questions about a rivalry between Enzo and Harrison. That’s the perk of being in PR, I guess. The narrative here is mine to shape. As long as they don’t start throwing punches out on the track, maybe I can patch things up between them from afar.
I spend most of the Monte Carlo Grand Prix clutching Bex’s hand and doing my best to ignore Charlie’s muttering. I’m still not allowed to be down in the pit with Dad and Gus�
��something about distracting the pit crew. But I’m more than happy to watch from afar. That way, no one will be able to see that I’m watching Harrison’s car with just as much enthusiasm as I’m watching my brother's. Split allegiance would be cardinal sin for someone as close to the sport as me, but I know how to be discreet...I’d damn well better.
Enzo pulls out ahead of the pack again in no time, but the herd doesn’t thin out quite so easily as they did in Barcelona. Most every driver is feeling the pressure to prove something after letting Enzo sail away with first place during the last Grand Prix. Almost all the drivers seem more desperate this run around...That is, except for Harrison. If anything, it seems like he’s gained more control, more precision, in the week that’s past. All that training is paying off in a big way. He’s not in first, but his driving is markedly better than most every other drivers'. Not quite better than my brother’s, but then whose is?
Bex, Charlie and I rush forward as the final lap begins, pressing up against the course barrier with bated breath. Enzo lays on the speed and zooms out ahead of the rest of the first ten cars. A few others charge off after him: Landers and Rostov are neck and neck for second, and Harrison surges ahead to fourth. He’s just about to overtake Rostov when Landers closes rank, sending them off toward the edge of the track. Enzo roars across the finish line with Landers on this tail. Rostov takes third, just a hair ahead of Harrison. A twinge of outrage ripples up in me, twining with glee for Enzo’s second win. It’s strange, having two favorites in the same pack. Strange and a little reckless.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Charlie shouts, pulling Bex and me into a bear hug, “Our boy is killing it! I swear, I really think this is his year. I think Enzo’s gonna win this whole thing.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I say, watching as the lead cars glide to stopping on the track. Dad and Gus help Enzo out of his car, and even from here his grin in unmistakable. By when my eyes alight on Harrison, I don’t see annoyance or frustration. He looks calm, like he expected this outcome. Is McClain trying to lure the rest of the drivers into a false sense of security where Harrison is concerned?
Take Me Series (COMPLETE BOX SET) Page 11
