“She won’t.” He hikes up my skirt, stopping near my waist, and slides his hands to my bare ass. “Fuck,” he moans, grinding his hard cock against me.
I’m about to protest as the cool air hits my ass, but Brooks drops to his knees, and suddenly I have nothing to say. The oxygen in my lungs evaporates, and the words I’m about to mumble disappear. I want him. I want to feel his wet mouth against my skin, devouring every bit of my need. I flatten my hands against the wall and brace myself for what’s about to come next.
His lips scorch my flesh as he moves his face between my legs and sweeps his tongue through my wetness. My knees go weak, shaking from need, and I’m about to collapse. His arms wrap around my thighs, and I glance down as Brooks lifts my legs over his shoulders. I tangle my fingers through his hair and hold his face against me, more turned on than I’ve ever been.
Damn. He’s so good at this. When his tongue swipes across my clit, my back arches off the wall, and I gasp for air. I want to cry out, beg for him to give me the orgasm that’s quickly building, but I can’t. We’re in public, no matter how hard I try to forget. He pushes his fingers inside me, filling me completely.
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from crying out as my back scrapes against the wall. My eyes are fixed on the mirror behind his back as he ravages my flesh, transfixed and completely lost in the moment. “Brooks,” I moan quietly, but I don’t know if I’m begging him for more or pleading with him to stop.
He growls against my core and closes his mouth around me, sucking my tender flesh as his fingers plunge deeper. I stop fighting and give in, letting the pleasure radiate through my entire body. Unable to stop, too turned on and close to the edge, I close my eyes and let go. My muscles tense and my toes curl as I dig my heels into his back, pushing his face harder against me. The mind-numbing orgasm crashes over me. Wave after wave of pleasure grips my body as I cry out, unable to stop the ecstasy from spilling from my lips.
Brooks doesn’t stop. His tongue toys with my clit, drawing out the orgasm as my body shudders in his arms. As soon as his fingers leave me, I miss the fullness. I’m dizzy as he lowers my feet to the floor. I push the hair that had fallen free away from my face and lean back against the wall, needing support with the way my knees are wobbling. Brooks Carter has a way of scrambling my brain like no one’s ever done before.
His fingers dig into my hip as he pulls me away from the wall. “Place your palms on the bench,” he says.
My eyes lock on his, knowing he’s not done with me yet. His eyes blaze, burning with lust as he watches me, waiting for me to move. My body shudders with delight as he guides my movement. As my hands flatten against the bench and I bend at the waist, I hear the familiar ticking of his zipper and glance over my shoulder as he pulls out his cock and palms the length in his hands. I lick my lips with eyes locked on his cock, more turned on by watching him touch himself than I would’ve expected.
“Eyes forward, princess.” His front rests against my back as he sweeps the head of cock across my waiting flesh, and I stare down at the bench. “So fucking wet.” he says, slowly pushing inside me.
I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut, unable to say anything back when his length is buried deep inside me. His warm breath skids across my ear, sending shivers down my spine as he pulls his cock out quickly and thrusts forward even faster. My body jolts forward, and I’m rocked onto my tiptoes from the powerful movement and his weight. His fingers bite into my skin near my hip, tightening as he plunges into me and impales me on his cock.
“Touch yourself.”
I freeze. No one’s ever said those words to me.
“Come for me.”
Slowly, I slide my fingers between my legs and press against my clit. Sparks of pleasure shoot through my body as my pussy constricts around his hardness.
“So fucking sexy,” he moans.
I ride my fingers with my eyes closed, bouncing off his cock as he pummels me from behind. His smooth motion becomes erratic as a second wave of pleasure, stronger than the first, sweeps through my body, rendering me motionless and unable to breathe. I gasp as his teeth sink into my shoulder, sending a new jolt of electricity throughout my already-spent body. He grunts, grinding into me and spilling his seed inside my body once again.
“We can’t do this again,” I say, suddenly riddled with guilt about everything. I pull my skirt down and try to control my labored breathing as panic starts to set in at the severity of the entire situation.
By situation, I mean my uncontrollable lust for Brooks.
“I’m sorry,” he says, pushing the dress pants down his leg with his cock still wet from the most erotic sexual experience of my life. “I’ll get a box of condoms. You shouldn’t be too worried.”
I narrow my gaze. “Why shouldn’t I be worried?”
“I’m clean. I can’t have kids, so there’s nothing to worry about there. Plus, even if I could, you’re on the pill.”
My head jerks back, and I’m shocked by his admission. He can’t have kids? I can’t even imagine dealing with something as big as that. “What? Why would you think that?” I suddenly feel like the world’s biggest asshole.
“Football accident back in high school. Doctor said it would be a miracle if I could ever have any.” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal, but it has to be.
I press my palm against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart through his shirt. “I’m so sorry, Brooks.”
“It’s no big deal. I’d just mess my kids up like my mother did me anyway.” There’s sadness in his blue eyes, even if he tries to pretend like never being a father doesn’t bother him.
“Don’t say that.” I shake my head and lean into him.
“It’s true. I’m better off never having my own, Faith. Some of us aren’t meant for that type of responsibility.” He presses his palm to my cheek, gently cupping my face. “Don’t feel bad, princess. I don’t.”
I gaze up at him, seeing a swirl of emotion in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“It’s not something I like to talk about. It’s really no big deal.”
I push myself up on my tiptoes, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry,” I say after I back away, staring up at him with a broken heart. The ache I feel isn’t because I want his babies. I just can’t imagine this beautiful man not having little ones running around his house vying for his attention someday.
He smiles as the emotion I’d seen a moment ago disappears. “Anyway, my balls are my business. Unless they’re in your mouth—then they’re yours.” He laughs and tries to make light of the situation, but it doesn’t work. Not on me. “So, are we done here?” He drops his hand away from my face and kicks the expensive pants into the air, catching them in his hand.
“We’ll take this suit and grab a few other items, but yes, you can get dressed.”
I look at myself in the mirror in shock. There’s no denying or hiding what exactly happened in here from the saleswoman. There is absolutely nothing I can do to salvage the mess he made of my hair or hide my swollen lips. There’s only one thing I can do. I plan to walk out of the dressing room and ring up a bill of sale so obscene, the saleswoman won’t even bat an eyelash at my freshly fucked look.
Chapter Six
Brooks
I tug at the tie around my neck as I stand in the foyer of the two-story Ridley Mansion, feeling completely out of my element. Faith lied to me. The way she described her childhood home, I pictured something a little more modest and less…giant. A small army could live here and still have plenty of room without bumping into each other.
My eyes sweep up the grand staircase lined with a wall of windows and covered in wide plank mahogany boards. A rustic chandelier hangs in the middle of the enormous space, with animal horns, maybe elk, intertwined with wrought iron.
I cannot imagine growing up in a place like this. Playing hide and seek would have been so much fun compared to my house, where my options were the clothes hamper
, under a bed, or in the dryer. The game never lasted very long because my mother would forget to find me, but I suppose that was all part of her master plan after all.
“Brooks,” Mr. Ridley says, entering the foyer as I stare upward and wonder if I belted out a tune, if there’d be an echo. “Look at you, my boy. Faith did you well.”
“Yes, she did, sir.” Somehow, I keep a straight face as I shake his hand. He has no idea about the double meaning. I’d like to keep my dick attached and my career intact. Plus, I like living.
“Beau, introduce me to our new guest,” a woman says and drapes herself over his shoulder.
I see the resemblance instantly. The way she smiles, the color of her hair, and her deep-green eyes are every bit a part of the girl I’ve been crushing on.
He glances over his shoulder at her. “Sweetheart, this is Brooks Carter. The boy I’ve been telling you about.”
She dips her head and gives me a kind smile. “Brooks Carter, it’s wonderful to finally meet you. I’m Mimi Ridley.”
“Ma’am.” I tip my head before capturing her hand in mine, kissing her skin and being a total gentleman. “This is a beautiful place you have.”
They glance around the room, maybe seeing it through my eyes, or maybe they never take the time to appreciate the grandeur of the space. “It is. Isn’t it?”
“Someday I want a place just like this.” I can’t imagine what it would be like to come home to this much room. Between my upbringing and living on the road so long, I have grown accustomed to small spaces with very little personal things, but I could quickly get used to something as big as this.
“If you’re half as good as my husband says, Mr. Carter, you’ll have a home like this soon enough. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on the champagne.”
“I have a house full of people who are excited to meet you.” Mr. Ridley hangs his arm around my shoulders and guides me toward the back of the house as his wife saunters away with the same sway to her hips that Faith has.
The collar of my shirt feels like a noose, and I tug on it, looking for a little reprieve. On the track, I can handle a hundred strangers watching me, but put me in a swanky room like this, and I find myself rendered stupid. “Is Faith here?” I sweep my eyes across the crowd, searching for her like she’s my lifeline.
“Not yet.” His hand tightens on my shoulder. “She’s always fashionably late to these events.”
A woman approaches in a red dress with a slit so high that if she moved the right way, I’d be able to see everything she wasn’t trying so hard to hide. “Why, Mr. Ridley, who do we have here?” She extends her hand, eyes totally on me, even though she asked Mr. Ridley the question.
“This is Brooks, Ms. Constance. He’s the newest member of my team.” Mr. Ridley elbows me and gives me the side eye when I don’t immediately take her hand. “Brooks, this is Ms. Constance. Her family has lived here since the town’s founding.”
I’m so out of my element. First, I usually know how to greet a woman, but only the types that hang out in bars or around the garage. Ms. Constance is in a league of her own, oozing wealth and attitude.
I take her hand, lean forward, and plant a quick kiss atop her skin. “It’s entirely my pleasure, ma’am.” I gaze up as she touches her chin to her shoulder, trying to pull off the innocent act, but there’s nothing about this woman even remotely angelic.
I straighten and try to pull my hand away, but she tightens her grip. “So, you’re a race car driver?”
“I am.” I nod as Mr. Ridley turns his back for a moment. I am hoping for a rescue, but it doesn’t seem like one is coming as something else has his full attention. I’ve heard about women like Ms. Constance, throwing around their wealth and expecting to get everything they want without any pushback.
Ms. Constance takes a step forward and invades my personal space, but I don’t dare back up. “I’d love to go for a ride sometime.” She smirks as she places her hand on my chest. “I meant in your car, of course.”
Mr. Ridley coughs and grabs Ms. Constance by the arm, maneuvering her away from me. “Ms. Constance, there’s someone I’d love for you to meet,” he says, saving me from a pile of shit because I didn’t know how long I could stand there and remain a gentleman.
She glances over her shoulder at me as Mr. Ridley brings her across the room. By the way she’s undressing me with her eyes, I have a feeling it’s not the last time I’ll see Ms. Constance tonight.
Roscoe strides across the room with his hand tucked into his pocket, looking every bit the rich kid with his sandy-brown hair plastered back with hair gel like a member of the original Rat Pack.
“Brooks.” He lifts his chin, not bothering with anything more.
I dip my head. “Roscoe.”
He motions toward Ms. Constance. “Don’t let her age fool you. She’s a wildcat in the sack.”
I tilt my head and study him. “Really, man?” I never imagined Roscoe as the type to fall for older women. Ms. Constance is beautiful, even though she’s easily more than twenty years my senior, but I don’t think I could ever sleep with her. Not because of her age but because of her entitled attitude and bold sexual prowess.
“Dude,” he says, drawing out the word like a surfer kid. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t tap the fuck out of that?” From my side, he points in her direction as she bends over and gives the entire room a view of what she offers.
I shake my head and tear my gaze away from her ass before she catches me and gets the totally wrong idea. “She’s not really my type, Ridley.”
He slaps me on the back, knocking me forward. “Yeah. She’s too refined for a guy like you.”
“I prefer someone a little less high maintenance.” I slide my hand into my pocket and mimic Roscoe’s more elegant stance.
He nudges my ribs with his bony elbow. “You’re missing out, buddy. There’s nothing finer than a woman who knows what she’s doing.”
I bite my tongue and stop myself from saying something I know I shouldn’t. If I didn’t like Faith so much, I’d love nothing more than to throw sleeping with her in his face. But I can’t do that. I know if I do, I’ll not only crush her but kill any future I have with Ridley Racing and ruin any chance I have of being with Faith ever again. Whatever we have going is good. Something I’m not willing to spoil just because Roscoe’s a complete asshole.
“Boys,” Mr. Ridley says and saves me from listening to any more of Roscoe’s bullshit. “We added a new auction item this year.”
I grab a glass of champagne off a waiter’s tray as he passes by. I gulp it down as Mr. Ridley continues to talk, and my gaze wanders around the room. Every man in the place has on a tuxedo or a three-piece suit, and the women are wearing floor-length ball gowns in every shade of the rainbow.
Mr. Ridley scans the crowd and puffs out his chest, clearly in his element. “We’re really excited to see how it goes over this year.”
“What is it?” Roscoe sips his champagne, sticking his pinky finger out like something from a movie.
Mr. Ridley faces us, his eyes moving between Roscoe and me with a wicked little gleam. “Faith came up with the idea a month ago when she was worried we weren’t going to raise enough money.” He pauses as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “We’re auctioning off a date with you boys.”
“What?” Roscoe’s just as shocked at the news as I am. I have a mouthful of champagne and am just about to swallow when Roscoe opens and says, “I don’t go out with just anyone.”
I choke on the champagne as it slides down my throat, bubbles exploding in places nothing should be. I pound on my chest, happy that I can’t speak, because I’d love to remind him of his earlier statement about Ms. Constance. Clearly, he doesn’t have standards.
A date? What the hell am I going to do with a rich chick for an entire evening? I’m sure they’re not into honky-tonks and cheap beer.
“You only have to spend a few hours with her. It’s not that big of a deal, and it should bri
ng in a pretty penny too. You wouldn’t want to let down the Children’s Hospital, would you?” Mr. Ridley stares at Roscoe, using his dad guilt skills.
“No,” Roscoe grumbles against the rim of his champagne glass and narrows his eyes.
Mr. Ridley smiles. “It’s settled. You two are the first items up for bid. Who wants to go first?”
“I’ll go first and get it over with. I’m sure we’ll set the bar pretty high with me.” Roscoe grins and glances at me out of the corner of his eyes. “Who doesn’t want to spend a night with a champion?”
I resist rolling my eyes at his cockiness. Any woman in this place could spend an evening with Roscoe without spending a dime. His earlier statement about Constance proves that point.
“That’s fine with me.”
Mr. Ridley dips his head, acknowledging my statement. “I’ll move the crowd onto the back terrace and get everything rolling.”
“We’ll be ready,” Roscoe tells his father before he walks away.
“I hope Constance buys me,” Roscoe says as he sets his nearly empty champagne flute on the small table next to us. “The woman sucks a mean dick.”
“I don’t think that’s what your father had in mind when he said date.”
He looks at me like I have three heads. “You’re a killjoy, Brooks.”
As I follow Roscoe through the crowd, I search for any sign of Faith. I can’t imagine she’d be this fashionably late for a party she probably spent months planning. My heart leaps when I think I see her, but when the woman turns, it’s Mrs. Ridley, and I feel more alone than I did before.
FAITH
“God damn piece of shit. Of all nights.” I kick the tire to my broken-down pickup truck with the tip of my high heel and let out a strangled cry. “You had to do this now!”
Something howls in the darkness and sends a shiver down my spine. I slap my hand over my mouth and freeze, praying it’s just a dog and not a famished coyote looking for an easy mark. I’m less than a mile away from my parents’ house, broken down on a dirt road, and no rescue in sight.
Misadventures with a Speed Demon Page 7
