“The authorities are on their way,” the man says, “But they may not get here before the race is finished. Could Marques have something planned for the finish line?”
The prospect spurs me into action. I race out into the open air, straight up to the barrier. Harrison, Marques, and Enzo roar by just as I slam up against the concrete wall, the sounds of their engines deafening. I can’t even think about winning or losing right now, just as long as my boys make it out OK. I keep waiting to hear blaring sirens or see police cruisers soar onto the track, but two more laps go by, and suddenly they’re on the second the last.
And to my horror, Marques has passed Harrison.
The cars soar through the penultimate lap. When they reappear, the final lap of the championship, the single stretch that will determine the winner, is underway.
Enzo and Harrison edge along the length of Marques’ car, looking for an opening. But the Spanish driver isn’t giving up an inch. As they fly past us, I can see clearly that it’s no use. Marques is going to win this thing.
Just as an enormous wave of disappointment readies itself to crash through me, the world all but stops before my eyes. Harrison’s car is flying ahead on a draft of speed, right out in front of Marques’. I wait to see my man soar over the finish line ahead of all the others, but my expectations are foiled. He lingers in front of Marques and holds his speed as Enzo edges along to meet him. I can almost see my brother and Harrison trade glances as they draw even with one another, speeding toward the finish line.
And that’s when Harrison spins out.
The crowd gasps as his car turns about in a controlled loop. Marques panics and slams on his breaks, toppling and spinning dangerously away toward the wall. His hood crunches against the concrete as Enzo speeds on ahead. Harrison regains control of his car and takes off after my brother like a shot. I watch from afar as Enzo jolts over the finish line ahead of every other driver, and Harrison arrives right behind him.
A roaring cheer rips out of my throat from the very core of me as the crowd goes absolutely mad. The rest of the cars zoom, one after another, straight past Marques and onward to their own finishes. Enzo and Harrison loop around the track in a victory lap, gracefully decelerating as their teams race out to meet them in the pit.
I vault down onto the track, unable to feel anything but joy. The emerald and ruby cars are mobbed as they finally come to a stop. Champagne rains down on the assembled crowd as Harrison and Enzo pull themselves out of their cars, and I’m suspended between them. I watch them each search me out and find me, and reach out my arms as they come running.
Without pausing, they throw their arms around me together, and the three of us are wrapped up in a crushing embrace. Sudden tears roll down my cheeks as I hold onto them both. The crowd surges around us, surrounding us with love and triumph.
“You stopped that asshole in his tracks,” Enzo laughs, clapping Harrison on the back.
“We did,” Harrison says, looking intently at my brother, “We did good, Lazio.”
“Hell yes we did, Davies,” Enzo laughs.
“You two don’t know the half of it,” I say, laughing through my happy tears, “Just wait until you turn on the news...”
An ecstatic cry cuts through the noise around us, and I whip my head around toward its source. I gasp as an unexpected scene greets my baffled eyes. Charlie and Bex are all but frozen in a perfect tableau. Bex stares, beyond words, as Charlie kneels before her on the track, holding up a tiny box with something decidedly shiny glinting inside.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim, “You guys—You—You’re—”
“Quite the day, huh?” Shelby grins, appearing at Enzo’s elbow.
“I’ll say,” Harrison smiles, scooping me up in his arms.
“You took second for Enzo,” I say, looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes, those bottomless orbs I’ve come to know so well.
“I took second for us,” he tells me, and brings his lips fervently to mine.
Our mouths move together, and I kiss the man I love in front of the entire world. Wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, the rest of the incredible scene around us melts away. All of this—the scandal, the drama, the excitement—has always paled in comparison to what we really share. At the end of the day, we’re just two people madly in love. The rest is simply circumstance.
Howling sirens tear through the celebratory cheering, and we all turn to see an ambulance and three police cars race onto the track and surround Marques’ ruined car. The driver staggers out of his minor wreck and is handcuffed immediately, led away like the criminal he is into the ambulance.
“What the hell is that?” Harrison asks.
“You’ll find out in time,” I tell him, “But right now, you have some more celebrating to do, Davies.”
He takes my face in his strong hands and kisses me again, with abandon. I give myself over to this all but perfect moment. Surrounded by the people I love, in the world I love, having done my part to keep my sport safe and just—I am truly happy.
“What do you think?” Harrison asks, pulling away from our kiss, “Was I worth all the trouble, Miss Lazio?”
“And then some,” I smile, “But next season, maybe let’s take a slightly less...scandalous approach, huh?”
“I’m not making any promises,” he tells me, “But I’ll do my best.”
A hundred clamoring reporters rush us as Enzo is handed the first place trophy. They’ll have plenty of questions for us, I’m sure, but they can wait. I’m too busy enjoying this perfect moment, too happy to give a damn about appearances. My dad must be so proud right now, and the thought brings tears to my eyes.
I wrap my arm around Harrison’s waist and let the world race on at full speed around us. Because for this moment, and every moment we’re together, we are truly champions.
Epilogue
I wake the next morning as sunshine splashes across my face through the hotel window. I can't help but smile as I recount the debauchery and revelry that went on during last night's celebration. After we all cleared off the track, the Team McClain and Team Ferrelli camps made a beeline for the nearest bar. Each willing to bury the hatchet, at least for one night, to celebrate Enzo's driver championship win, and McClain's team championship win.
Unfortunately, my stomach was bothering me and after only two glasses of champagne I wasn't up for much in the way of getting sloshed. We still had a great time though, and seeing Harrison and Enzo drunk together singing a Karaoke rendition of Queen's We are the Champions was literally priceless.
I turn to nuzzle into Harrison's muscular chest, he smiles, still asleep, and puts his arm around me.
I hear a light knock at my hotel room door and I slowly rise, my stomach still feeling weak from last night. I grab a robe off the bathroom door and wrap the plush garment around my body, attempting to smooth down my sex hair as I go to answer the door.
Bex's bright face greets me through the crack in the door, the new rock glimmering on her left ring finger distracts me immediately. Charlie done good.
“I hate to bother you babe, but do you have any tampons? ” she asks with a sheepish grin. “I thought I'd ask before I make a trip out to CVS.”
And then it hits me like a truck load of bricks.
“Shit! ” I hiss, hurrying into the hall and closing the door lightly behind me, careful not to wake Harrison. “I just realized I haven't gotten my period in over a month! Things have been so chaotic lately that I just completely forgot about it...”
“Oh, Siena...” Bex says, her face dropping for my sake.
“Bex what if—”
My voice is cut off suddenly as my stomach does a triple back flip. I bring my hand to my mouth, and run back inside, tearing open the bathroom door and diving headfirst into the toilet.
And I let loose, literally spilling my guts to the Porcelain God.
After what seems like a good five minute volley, I pick myself up just enough to look out of the bathroom and see that Ha
rrison's still sound asleep.
Jesus, what have we gotten ourselves into now.
FASTER HOTTER
BOOK FOUR
Prologue
Just after the Dallas Grand Prix...
A tipsy little gasp of surprise slips past my lips as Harrison lifts me up into his arms. The hotel hallway carpet falls away beneath me as he scoops me up like a bride on her wedding night. I look into his clear blue eyes, willing my gaze to steady itself. This hasn’t been the soberest of evenings, after all—what with our championship titles to celebrate.
“Babe, we’ve made it back to the room,” I tell him, “I think I can manage to walk the rest of the way.”
“Come on,” he grins, cradling me against his firm chest, “Let me escort the champion over the threshold.”
I laugh as he nudges the door of our hotel room open with his sculpted shoulder and carries me inside.
“I think you’ve got the wrong Lazio, lover boy,” I giggle, “Last I checked, it was Enzo who won the championship, not me.”
“I most certainly do not have the wrong Lazio,” Harrison says, bearing me across as the room as if I weighed nothing at all. “You were the real champion today, Siena. You were our champion. You know that, don’t you?”
“I guess that was some fancy footwork with Marques, huh?” I smile.
“That was some super sleuth shit, is what that was,” Harrison says, attempting to set me down gently on the bed. But I’m not the only one who’s been raising a few celebratory glasses tonight. Harrison loses his balance and falls onto the bed beside me, drawing raucous laughter from us both. We role towards each other, our hands unable to be kept to ourselves.
“Uh-oh,” I chide playfully, “Did Mr. Lead Driver have a few too many at the bar?”
“On the contrary. I don’t think I had nearly enough,” Harrison says, pulling me toward him. “Lead Driver: Harrison Davies,” he says, tasting the words as if they were a fine smoky scotch. “Goddamn, I like that sound of that.”
“That makes two of us,” I tell him, planting my hands on his solid chest, “Do you know how proud I am, after what you did today?”
“It was a bloody good race,” Harrison says, smoothing down my unruly curls.
“It was, but that’s not what I mean,” I tell him, “You could have easily taken first place today; you were right there at the finish fine. But instead, you let Enzo have it. I want you to know how much that means to me.”
“I didn’t let him do anything,” Harrison insists, “I just needed to make damn well sure that Marques didn’t make it across that finish line. And, well...maybe I cut him off with the knowledge that Enzo would take first. And that maybe I’d make it onto his good side, finally...”
“Aww,” I tease, “Trying to get in good with my big brother, huh? Maybe now he’ll let you take me to the prom.”
“You are incorrigible, Siena Lazio,” he growls, pulling me on top of him. I swing a leg over his trim hips, straddling him on the bed.
“I am...surprisingly drunk,” I tell him, “I don’t get it. I only had a couple of drinks at the bar. The rest of you were pounding them like there was no tomorrow.”
“Well, champagne goes to your head right quick,” Harrison says, laying his hands on my hips, “You’re more of a red wine girl, most days.”
“Damn straight,” I smile, moving my hips ever so gently against him, “What can I say? I’m a lady with pretty good taste.”
“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” Harrison winks.
“Now, now,” I say, clicking my tongue, “Don’t let that team championship title go to your head, Mr. Davies. You’ve got a long career ahead of you, now. Can’t be getting cocky this early in the game. I might just have to put you in your place...”
“I’ve always been cocky,” Harrison reminds me.
“You can say that again,” I say, pressing tantalizingly against his crotch.
“As fun as wordplay can be,” Harrison says, sliding his hands over the rise of my ass, “There’s something else I’d much rather be doing with my tongue than twisting it.”
Harrison’s arms circle my waist and pull me down. I fall forward onto my hands; my body drawn tightly against him. I stretch out across his tall, cut form—savoring the feel of his hard, muscular body beneath me. My fingers find their way into his dirty blonde hair as our mouths come together. Harrison’s tongue arcs into my mouth, and a sigh of bliss escapes my throat. As our tongues entangle, I can feel my pulse begin to quicken in my veins. So much for leaving the tongue twisters behind.
“This time next year,” Harrison growls, rolling me onto my back, “I’ll be a world champion. I promise you that, Siena.”
“You don’t have to promise me anything,” I tell him, running my hands over his rock hard biceps, “Only that we’ll be together.”
“That part’s easy,” he smiles, bringing his lips to my neck. His hands travel along the length of me, leaving searing trails of sensation wherever they go.
“Easy?” I laugh, “We haven’t even known each other a year, Harrison. We’ve already been at the heart of a major scandal, a crime spree, and a few rather nasty fights, if I’m remembering things correctly. We’ve traveled the world, beaten up spies, witnessed countless wrecks and acts of mayhem...”
“Like I said,” Harrison shrugs, “Easy as pie.”
“I think you may have developed some memory problems after your last crash,” I tell him, cocking an eyebrow, “Our relationship so far has been anything but a walk in the park. Not that I’m complaining or anything...”
“Well sure,” Harrison says, training his eyes on mine, “But everything we’ve worked through together, it hasn’t felt like work. Not to me. We belong together, Siena. No question. So anything we have to overcome, we will. There’s no other option; there’s no ‘maybe not’.”
I feel my heart begin to race with an irresistible cocktail of love and lust. How can one man be such a bad boy sex god and a passionate romantic all at the same time? And what the hell am I doing wasting time with questions when he’s laying on top of me?
“There’s no doubt in my mind either.” I tell him, wrapping my long legs around the small of his back. He leans into me, his stiffening member pressing right where I want to feel it most. I grind against that firm length, reveling in the feel of it against me. It’s an incredible thought, but there’s literally not one thing about Harrison that I would change. Sure, he has his flaws. He’s quick to anger, and quicker to put himself in insanely dangerous situations. But all of those things just make me love him more, in the end. He may be a cavalier bad boy, but he’s my cavalier bad boy. And only I know that there’s a heart of pure gold beneath those hard, smooth pecs. I love being the only person who truly knows Harrison—and the truth is; he’s the only one who knows me, too.
Looking up at him in our darkened Dallas hotel room, a novel, crazy idea strays into my mind. What if Harrison and I made our love for each other more...official? I’ve never thought of myself as the marrying type, and picturing Harrison Davies settling down might have seemed mad before I knew him. But now I can’t help but wonder. When we’re together, it’s like we’re in a world of our own. We understand everything about each other so well, share the same ambitious drive and diehard tenacity. We’re already poised to be F1’s new power couple. So what if...
“What are you smiling about?” Harrison asks, running his fingers along my legs. I shiver as the skirt of my black dress pools around my hips, leaving nothing but a thin layer of cotton covering my aching sex. Without thinking, I arch my back, bucking my hips toward him.
“I’m just really...glad I let you buy me a drink in Barcelona,” I whisper, as Harrison runs his fingertips along the flimsy cotton panel of my panties, teasing me.
“That must have been one hell of a margarita,” he says, slipping two fingers beneath the thin fabric. “I’m just glad I managed to guess your drink. Imagine what might have happened if I sent you a gimlet.”
> I groan as I feel him slide up inside me, ever so slowly. The firm, deft pressure of his fingers sets my vision to swimming. My legs fall from his waist as my knees part. I can’t help but open myself to his expert touch. We’ve gone so wild together where sex is concerned, testing each other’s boundaries and limits. But sometimes, a simple touch like this can get me to the edge just as quickly as the wildest, kinkiest act. Harrison doesn’t need to do anything else but touch me to turn me all the way on, but that won’t stop him from going the extra mile.
My hands clench against the comforter as his thumb finds that throbbing nub, the center of all my pleasure. He traces long, slow circles there, sending rivulets of ecstasy dancing all along my body. I writhe beneath him, my eyes screwed up tight. The rolling waves of pleasure intensify with each round, and my breath is coming hard and fast. The entire world is narrowed to our two bodies, my entire mind is made up of Harrison.
“You’re going to be the end of me Davies.” I moan.
“Maybe,” he breathes, “But this is still just the beginning.”
He lowers his mouth swiftly to my sex, his tongue flicking irresistibly against my clit. The attention of his hands and mouth are too wonderful for me to take quietly. I can’t be bothered to swallow my ecstatic cries as Harrison sends me toppling over the edge of bliss again and again. If this is how he likes to celebrate his world championship victories, well that’s just fine with me.
Chapter One
A Rough Start
The next morning...
I steady myself against the edge of the hotel bathtub and pull myself up off the cool tile floor. Quickly flushing the evidence of my alarming sickness down the porcelain throne, I tiptoe past the sleeping Harrison, out into the hallway. My best friend Bex is waiting there for me, concern knotting her brow. She arrived just a few moments ago, waking me from a slightly drunken, very satisfied sleep to see if I had any extra tampons lying around that she could use.
Take Me Series (COMPLETE BOX SET) Page 47
