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The Widowmaker

Page 12

by Amy Gallow


  "Goodnight, Glenn,” Sandra said, turning away. “We'll see you in the morning."

  Kieran rumbled his agreement and they left.

  "Well...” Lexie was suddenly shy. The change in Glenn had unsettled her.

  "Bed?” He was smiling at her.

  She nodded and led the way. It seemed simpler. They reached her bedroom and she waited while he shut the door to the rest of the house and turned back to her, the sudden shyness holding her captive.

  "Second thoughts?"

  She shook her head.

  "A kiss?"

  She nodded and stepped into his arms.

  He was gentle, his arms supporting rather than holding, his movements deliberate so she had time to become used to each stage. Her eyes were still open when their lips met. They stayed open until her body took over and she arched herself into him, fingers becoming claws as she tried to force her way into the same space. Shyness fled, as did thought; nothing mattered beyond the reality of their embrace.

  Their kiss lasted forever, changing everything. A different Lexie surrendered his lips and opened her eyes. “I like sleeping on the left,” she said. “What about you."

  "No preference.” The bemused look was back in his eyes. “You are very beautiful."

  "We'll see what you say in the morning.” She stepped away from him and walked around the bed.

  Lexie's mind clung to the façade of normalness even as her body screamed for action. She'd felt his arousal and, if she relaxed for one instant, she'd be clawing at him, ripping aside the clothing that barred the way to consummation. Had the first night, or the night after, reached this point, Lexie would have rushed ahead without a thought for the consequences, carried forward by lust. It was different now. She'd glimpsed the depth of Glenn's love and feared making herself seem less than worthy.

  "I'll set the alarm,” she said. “You won't want to be late at the track.” She turned to Glenn and drowned in his eyes. They were tender, loving, amused. He'd seen inside her mind and understood.

  "Let's do that later. There'll be time enough then.” He was undoing his shirt. “I think pajamas might be superfluous."

  She nodded and turned away to undress, not looking at him again until she was naked and ready to slip between the sheets. He'd beaten her to it and was holding open the bedclothes. She slid in beside him, her body trembling with need and her lower lip tender with the gnawing she'd used to control herself.

  He turned towards her, his left hand coming to rest on her hip and raised himself on one elbow so he was looking down at her face. “I love you,” he said ... and the world became perfect.

  The first kiss was gentle, exploring, stimulating, and Lexie responded in kind, her urgency muted by awe. This was love as she'd dreamed. As far removed from what she'd known as possible. The next kiss raised the ante and the third unleashed the tempest. She arched her body to meet his and received him with joy, penetration becoming union.

  A thousand sensations clamored for supremacy and she tried to sample them all, impression crowding in on impression until her mind whirled and darkness threatened. Insatiable hunger saved her, focusing her mind until nothing existed but her need and every thrust lifted her higher, gave her new horizons to crave. Her body cooperated mindlessly, driving her towards self-destruction, the point where she must surely burst.

  She reached it ... and went on, the world spiraling away beneath her.

  Then his release triggered hers in a cataclysmic spasm that was only the first. Her body shuddered as succeeding waves built to their peak and passed, each driving her a little closer to exhaustion. When it was over, she lay sated amidst the turmoil of bedding, Glenn still clasped in her arms.

  Never one for polite little orgasms, Lexie enjoyed sex too much to dissemble, this was something else. The ultimate big bang, and eerily selfish, her focus narrowed to herself and nothing beyond—until gratitude for the sound attenuation of her home's solid brick construction and tightly fitting doors intruded. Being forced to share the moment might test her parents’ approval.

  A memory from Lover's Walk surfaced, triggering a smile. “Another,” she said ... and waited for his response.

  A chuckle rumbled in his chest and shook the bed. “A kiss I can manage. The other will take time."

  "Show me."

  Glenn rolled them back to their starting position, Lexie lying on her back and him raised on one elbow. “Like this.” He kissed her lips. “Or this.” He kissed her eyelids. “Perhaps this.” He kissed the lobe of her ear. “Was this what you had in mind?” He kissed the hollow of her throat. “Or this?” He kissed her nipples and they budded urgently.

  Lexie's exhaustion vanished, hunger for this man blossoming like the opening petals of a flower demanding its place in the sun. She breathed the mingled scents of their lovemaking, savoring the warm musk of their bodies as an aphrodisiac, something she'd never noticed before. It drove her beyond passive acceptance. They were both involved. Her fingers entangled in his hair and she guided his lips back to hers. “My turn."

  He gave way as she rolled him onto his back and lay half across his body, their kiss unbroken. Her hand wandered south and found his recovery had begun so she completed the move, guiding him home so she lay, her legs straddling his, her breasts pressed against his chest. She'd done this before, but never with such importance. His pleasure demanded it.

  Her first movements completed his recovery and she could continue with more surety, even allow their kiss to be broken as she raised her upper body, using both elbows for support. His eyes were open, his lips curved in a smile and his hands rested on her hips to both steady and guide her.

  "Not so much later after all,” he admitted. “He's standing tall for a lady."

  She could feel the truth of his words. “A fine upstanding gentleman,” she said ... and gasped as he hardened to pleasure her more.

  Deliberate movements gave way to ecstatic responses, her hips grinding mindlessly as her control slipped and her own gratification took command. Her eyelids drooped and then closed completely as she focused every sense on the junction of their bodies. Riding the building tension like a surfer, letting it carry her forward, racing the break as she milked it for everything it had before the orgasmic wipe-out. He kept her on the wave, his hands, still resting on her hips, buffering her more extravagant movements, slowing her tempo to extend the moment and she blessed his control. It was so far beyond hers.

  Exhaustion claimed her a second time, slowing her tempo. She'd held on too long and the break had faded, leaving her stranded on a diminishing wave. Her eyes opened, imploring him to save her, and he did, surging up until she had to cling to him. His tempo took over, and her excitement rose to an impossible peak, curling over the top of her like the perfect tube and crashing down to drive her beyond its turmoil to the perfect slope, lost in utter exhilaration. She collapsed over him, tension draining, and muscles rubbery. He held her, kissing her shoulder, her neck and her forehead until she turned and claimed his lips with her own.

  It lasted forever, steadying her as the reverberations of what she'd achieved ricocheted around her body, triggering ecstatic quivers as he subsided slowly within her. When it ended, she snuggled into him and whispered, “Another?"

  He laughed. “Does the word ‘insatiable’ mean anything to you?"

  They kissed again, exploring with their hands and their bodies, talked nonsense and sense alike, watched the moon creep past her window, saw the sky lighten in the east before they made love again and slept, their bodies still entangled.

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  Chapter 8

  Glenn opened his eyes, turned his head to look at the bedside clock and had to still the impulse to leap out of bed. It was eight o'clock and the Grand Prix practice slot was ten. Angela and the pit team would be at the pit, preparing the Widow-Maker.

  A gentle tapping at the door saved him from having to wake Lexie. She stirred, raised her head and called, “Yes?"

  "It's
Mum,” Sandra answered. “Can I come in?"

  Lexie glanced around and straightened the bedclothes. “Yes."

  Sandra entered with a breakfast tray of tea and toast. “I didn't know what time you had to be at the track,” she said. “It's eight o'clock now."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Douglas.” Glenn sat up in the bed. “Quite soon, unfortunately."

  "I think Sandra is more appropriate,” Lexie's mother corrected him. “Drink this and I'll start breakfast. Eggs and bacon do?"

  "Thank you, Sandra. That would be perfect.” He glanced at Lexie and she nodded. “We'll be there in ten minutes."

  Sandra put the tray on Lexie's side table, smiled at them both and left.

  "The shower's big enough for two,” Lexie said. “A kiss first though."

  He paid the toll with interest and beat her to the shower, because the toast waylaid her. They'd shower together when time wasn't pressing. She understood, taking her time with the toast and sipping tea until he reappeared. “Tell Mum I'll be there shortly,” she said, slipping past him into the en-suite with only a passing peck on the cheek.

  He dressed quickly, ate half a piece of toast, drank his tea and went towards the kitchen.

  "Hi, Glenn.” Kieran Douglas was already ensconced at the kitchen table. “I rang Tommy. He'll be here in fifteen minutes. Our girl can follow you to the track later."

  "Thanks. That's probably better."

  "Sandra thought you might be in a hurry."

  The relaxed atmosphere settled any awkwardness and Glenn helped himself to a coffee before sitting down on the near side of the table. Sandra was busy at the stove on the other side.

  Halfway through his breakfast, he looked up when Lexie arrived. “Take your time. Tommy's going to take me to the track,” he said. “You look great."

  The compliment disarmed her into accepting the arrangement with a smile.

  "That's good,” she said, sitting down beside him. “I'm not up to hurrying this morning."

  Tommy arrived as Glenn finished eating and stole a cup of coffee to give Lexie time to kiss him goodbye. “I'm only taking him to the track,” he complained when Lexie made a thorough job of the kiss, but his grin came close to splitting his face.

  "Drop me at the front gate and keep going,” Glenn said. “I can cut through the security building and get a lift to the pits. It's a mad house."

  Tommy grinned at him. “I thought I could use you to get in for nothing. Kieran's bringing the others later."

  "Not a problem. Just follow my directions when we get there."

  Glenn's competitor's pass got them through and Tommy followed him into the pits. Angela had the Widow-Maker on its stand for the final adjustments, the engine burbling away as it warmed, the exhaust fumes whisked away by the extractor pipe of the run-up bay.

  "I'll be ready by the time you've changed,” she said. “There'll be three other bikes on the track when you go out."

  Glenn nodded. “This is Tommy Douglas. Ring the promoter's office and arrange passes for the Douglas family. Tommy will fill you in on numbers,” he said and left them for the changing rooms.

  He didn't like rushed preparation, especially for something as important as this, and forced himself to walk slowly. The limited sleep was a factor to be considered, but he didn't feel tired. Invigorated was closer, but that was purely psychological. He'd get a better idea on the track. He reached the rooms and dressed carefully, smoothing any wrinkles from the Lycra undergarments before slipping into the leathers. A glance at his watch reassured him and he sat for a moment clearing his mind of everything but the task ahead. He needed five perfect laps...

  Tommy greeted him as he walked into the pit. “Lexie rang. They're on their way.” Glenn nodded, but didn't reply—Tommy, Lexie, everyone was an irrelevance at this moment.

  Angela fussed around him, connecting the comms, checking, obsessively checking and then checking again, but he barely noticed, rehearsing what he'd learned in previous practice runs.

  Then everything was ready, Angela's hand was raised, thumb pointing to the heavens. It was time ... Glenn followed the pit lane, glanced to the right to confirm the marshal's all clear and accelerated out onto the track.

  The bike felt good. He tested the front brake and then rear brake for feel and found them perfect. The acceleration responded brightly as he reached Turn One, Doohan Corner, still going up through the gears. His line was right so he continued the acceleration all the way to the first marker of the southern loop, holding his speed round into Bass Strait. He resumed acceleration towards the gentle left-hander of Turn Three, watching the needle climb on the speedometer. He'd reached one hundred fifty miles per hour when the first marker came level and held it there around the curve, a trifle fast for a first lap, but manageable. He came over the rise and saw the sharp right-hander of Turn Four, Honda Corner, rushing towards him and responded with the practiced routine of brake/change/brake/change, running down through the gears as he bled speed, positioning himself for the fastest line. The weight shift into the turn was automatic, his knee beyond the verge for an instant and then he was through, accelerating again. Turn Five whipped past and the first marker of Turn Six was coming. He was still riding easily so he let it pass and began braking at the second marker of the left-hander. Turns Seven, Eight, and Nine were easy so he let the bike speed build until the first viewing mound of Lukey Heights came in view and it was time to prepare for Turn Ten. Brake/changing all the way down the slope to first gear and he was around the turn and accelerating up the hill to Turn Eleven. The acceleration continued through the turn and the speedometer needle climbed beyond one hundred twenty as he swept around the curve of Turn Twelve into Gardiner Straight. A final gear change and the needle crept past one hundred eighty miles per hour for the first time as he passed the pits.

  Two more laps, each a little faster, and it was time...

  * * * *

  Lexie reached Pit Six in time to see the Widow-Maker pass the third time. The crowd was building and it had taken her longer than she wanted to settle her family in the hospitality tent above. Glenn's arrangements had been unnecessary. Kieran already had a family pass provided by the PI Operations CEO.

  "Hi, Angela,” she said, but the pit boss held up her hand for silence, speaking into the boom mike of the comms headset, her face pale with tension.

  Angela nodded unconsciously, took a sheet from a folder beside her, and fixed it in the clipboard, resetting both digital stopwatches. A few words in the microphone and she sat down facing the dividing wall, shutting out everything except Glenn's voice through the comms set and the clipboard. The pit went quiet, people moving to where they could watch Angela and the monitor—which showed Glenn accelerating out of the southern loop.

  They followed him through Honda Corner, up to Lukey Heights and through the final curve into the long Gardiner Straight. Then he was passing the pit and an unconscious nod of Angela's head accompanied the triggering of both watches.

  Raul appeared at Lexie's side. “Good morning,” he said. “The party go well?"

  She turned to him. “What's happening?"

  "Glenn is practicing his qualifying laps. Angela is comparing his times with previous runs to let him know how he's going."

  "I thought this was just a practice run."

  "So did Angela.” Raul's tone was noncommittal. He was hiding something.

  "What changed?” Lexie decided to push him until he explained.

  "I don't know.” Lexie made sure Raul saw her disbelief. “The rider's rep is very interested,” he continued. “I saw him go into the Race Control tower on my way here."

  "What are they doing?” Lexie was looking at the monitor. The track marshals were waving riders into the pit lanes at either end of the circuit.

  "They're clearing the track for him.” Angela turned towards Lexie, her hand over the mike. “He'll ride on an empty track. They cut in on the comms circuit to tell him and he's eased back till the track's clear."

  "Doe
s this happen often?"

  "No. The rider's rep wanted him brought in, but a major Japanese team stepped in to support him. Everybody compromised; they were still arguing in the background at Race Control. He's got a ten minute window on a clear track.” Angela fell silent, listening. “The track's clear. His ten minutes starts when he passes the starting line."

  The Media had picked up what was happening and the monitor showed Glenn topping Lukey Heights in the way out of Turn Ten, the announcer using words like “unprecedented” and “never before” to describe the situation.

  "They're not very imaginative, are they?” Raul was shaking his head.

  "Turn up the sound,” Angela instructed the mechanic nearest the monitor. “You might as well listen."

  "This is an experimental suspension that's cost two lives to develop. On it is the team manager because his riders have refused...” The announcer went on, his comments a mish-mash of rumor, conjecture and mistakes, but Lexie no longer heard him. They'd superimposed Glenn's speed at the bottom of the screen. The Widow-Maker was accelerating beyond two hundred miles per hour as it came into Gardiner Straight. It sped past, the Doppler effect dulling the engine's scream as he swept down the slope to the southern loop. The sound tracking was superb. The individual gear changes came clearly, as did the protests from the tires as he braked at the limits of adhesion.

  Another display appeared at the bottom of the screen, this one comparing Glenn's progress against the record lap time. He was three hundredth of a second ahead going into the sharp right-hander of Honda Corner. The indicator slid back behind the record as he negotiated the turn, but surged ahead as he accelerated out of it.

  "He's going into the turns slower, but coming out faster,” Raul said. “Still feeling his way."

  Lexie glanced at him. He was afraid. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Her fear blossomed, growing until it threatened to choke her.

  Glenn was five hundredth of a second inside the record when he reached the crest before Turn Ten, but slipped back coming down the hill, beginning his acceleration three hundredths outside it.

 

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