by Shey Stahl
“I’ll be down a little later.” Casten told us following Erin upstairs to his room.
“That’s disgusting.” Bailey, Lane’s ex-girlfriend, snorted rummaging through the fridge beside Lily searching for food. “She’s seventeen, what’s she doing with Casten?”
“Maybe they’re just talking.” I suggested with a laugh.
Cole laughed getting in the way of the girls. “You should know by now he never sleeps within his age group. Besides,” he leaned back against the couch throwing his arms behind his head, “I’m pretty sure I would do just anything to sleep with Erin.”
“You would.” Bailey said shoving Cole out of her way.
I’m not sure who found my little brothers sex life more interesting, Casten, or our cousins.
You’re probably thinking my brother is some kind of dog when it comes to women but he’s more than up front with them. They knew he wasn’t with just one of them and frequently he had more than one at a time up there. He was also still good friends with all of them, even the ones he no longer fooled around with. He had quite the setup for a fourteen year old kid. Believe me when I say that I thought he was entirely too young to be having sex but if you ever met Casten, you wouldn’t think that. He was probably the most respectful fourteen-year-old I knew and treated all of them respectfully and he was careful too.
I never understood it but I also never tried. We may be brothers and look identical to each other besides our heights; I was cheated on the whole height gene by the way. But regardless, Casten was a ladies man. I’ve heard people in our family joke that he took after my uncle Spencer in that manner but I also knew enough about my dad that he never had any problems either.
I wasn’t a ladies man. I wouldn’t say I didn’t like women because I did. I was eighteen. Sure I liked women but only one woman.
Casten returned downstairs about an hour later with Erin wrapped around his side. They stayed like that the entire night and eventually returned to his room while the rest of us just laid back and relaxed.
It was nice to have Lily with me. We ended up going back home around ten that night.
These days I was contemplating how to propose to her but chickened out any time I tried. I had a ring and everything but I still couldn’t do it. My dad put me to shame with his epic proposal on national television that was still played on Sports Center as the “Best Proposal” in sports history.
Try following that one.
I asked my mom what to do and her advice: “Don’t embarrass her. Lily is shy so nothing public.”
My dad’s advice: “It should be just the two of you.”
Lane’s advice: “Don’t get married.” Lane recently had the girl of his dreams, Bailey, break his heart. He was bitter.
Grandpa’s advice: “Don’t ask her after sex, that’s stupid.”
And finally, my grandma’s advice: “Oh sweetie, that’s exciting.” I hadn’t proposed but she was already excited just at the thought.
As you can see, I got nowhere really but maybe slightly more confused.
Lily fell asleep soon after we got back to our condo whereas I stayed awake, staring at the ring in my hand. I must have lost track of time and fell asleep because when I woke up, her bright blue eyes were gazing at me.
Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun it was an incredibly adorable bun on the top of her head as she lay on my bare stomach.
Her hand moved to mine, the one holding the ring and I panicked closing my fist tightly. I’d spent the entire night fretting over asking her that I forgot to put it away.
Lily giggled softly. “I already saw it.”
Still on my back, I threw my arm over my face and groaned, the velvet box smacking me in the face. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“No you’re not.” She assured me straddling my hips. Leaning forward, her hands rested on either side of my head against the mattress. “It’s beautiful.”
I reached up to stroke the side of her face. Her eyes closed and she leaned into my hand.
I hesitated and then just went for it.
Sitting up, I moved back against the headboard. Lily seemed to understand what I was going to do when I reached for her hand, holding it with my own.
“I wanted this to be romantic and perfect.” I stared at her, stunned by her natural beauty in the morning. “I wanted it to be perfect, everything you are to me but I got so worked up over it...well...nervous.” I shrugged. “It didn’t work out like that.”
She let out an adorable sigh. “Axel, just give me the ring.” She held out her hand.
“I should say something though, right?”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Yes, ask me!”
“Lily Anne West—” she started giggling. Her hand flew to her mouth to stop herself. “Are you going to let me finish?”
“Yes.” She squeaked wrapping her arms around her knees pulling them against her chest.
Laughing, I looked down at our hands again. “All right,” I inhaled with an embarrassingly shaky breath. “Lily Anne West...will you marry me?”
Lily was quiet for a moment before tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. “Yes.” She whispered launching forward into my arms. Wrapping them around her tightly, I buried my face into her neck breathing her in. “I love you.”
She pulled back, grinning widely. “I thought you were never going to ask me and I love you too.”
“Why would you have thought that?”
“Casten told me when you bought the ring. I was beginning to think you bought it for someone else.”
“That fucking brat,” I was ready to kill him. He always did shit like this. One time my dad bought my mom a necklace for her birthday only to have Casten tell her two months earlier. He couldn’t keep secrets but then again neither could my mom.
“Oh, he’s cute,” Lily flipped her hand as if this was no big deal and focused on the ring, “leave him alone.”
“Not you too...” I groaned thoroughly annoyed with my brother and his way to captivate everyone including my girlfriend. “You do realize he was charged with starting a riot recently?”
“Me too what? And no he wasn’t. That was Tommy. Casten was never formally charged with that.”
“Why does everyone think he’s cute?” Regardless of my little temper tantrum, I placed the ring on her finger, smiling. “And he should have been charged with it. He destroyed my parent’s house.”
“Casten is cute. And his careless happy attitude for everything makes him adorable. But you...” she took my face between her hands, “you are what I want. Your sexy,” she bit down on her lip, “confident, staggeringly good in bed...and the love you have for racing makes me love you all the more.”
“Why would loving racing make you love me more?”
“Out of everything I just said leave it to you to focus on racing.”
“Naturally,” I grinned.
She shook her head amused. “Yet another reason why I love you, silly boy.”
Leaning back on my elbows, I grinned. “So you’ll be my wife?”
“Absolutely”
So we planned a wedding. Or I should say the girls in the family planned the wedding. I just did what I was told. My only condition was that it happened in November during the break between the World Finals and my parent’s anniversary.
Planning a wedding and finishing up an 82-race season was not ideal for a number of reasons. If I had my choice, we’d be going to Vegas but Lily wanted a wedding, so that’s what she got.
The weekend before the World Finals in Charlotte, I was at my wits end and looking for a private sanctuary, the sprint car shop was always a good idea.
I was frustrated by the time I reached the shop with all the wedding planning. I couldn’t understand why this was all so hard. I mean, it’s a fucking wedding. It’s supposed to be about two people in love and wanting to spend that time together. Why did we have to go through all this bullshit to do that?
I was relieved to see Lane’s truc
k parked outside the shop when I pulled into the parking lot. I needed someone normal to be around. For the last few weeks, he was helping us out in the sprint car shop since his season racing dirt bikes had ended for the winter.
Lane was in there changing out the gears for me so we could get the car loaded for Charlottes 4-night show. He was still racing on the GNCC (Grand National Cross Country) motocross series but just finished the final round last week.
The thing with Lane that I appreciated most was his willingness to help no matter what. All you had to say was “Hey, can you...” you didn’t have to finish the sentence and he was already asking how he could help.
“Can you hand me that control arm?” I asked him setting my beer on the wing. I usually had a ton of guys here helping me but most of them, Tommy and Willie included, were with my dad in Texas.
Everyone in the shop loved to watch him at Texas. He owned that place on any given weekend just like he did Bristol and Richmond. I’ve never seen someone throw a 2400 pound cup car sideways into the concrete corners and still manage to keep it under control as my dad did. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do in a race car and he proved that countless times. Looking around the shop at all the trophy’s told you that.
“Yeah,” Lane placed it next to my feet. “You know...” he began—his eyes on the wheel. “If you don’t want me to help you with the cars, I don’t have to.”
“I never said that.”
“I know...it’s just that I heard you with Jameson the other night.”
I knew what he was referring too. My exact statement to my dad was. “I’m frustrated with everyone. No one will leave me alone.” I wasn’t even referring to racing when I said that. Lane was sensitive though and only wanted to help.
“That wasn’t about you Lane. That was about the wedding.” I looked over at him thinking of why I was so stressed out. It had nothing to do with the wedding. All of it was about racing. “I just don’t know if I can do it. I wanted to win the championship this season but that’s not happening. I feel like I let grandpa down. I feel like I let the sponsors down.”
I knew it was far-fetched to win the championship as a rookie but it wasn’t impossible. My dad did it. I felt bad that Lane mistook that as me not wanting his help. For this reason, we always got along.
“You can. Everyone knows that.” Lane smiled that same smile uncle Spencer had, bright with dimples. The kind that made you feel like everything would be okay. “You’ve got both their talents combined. There would be some that would kill to have an ounce of the talent that you possess in a race car and you act as though it’s not there. You don’t believe in yourself, Axel.”
“That’s not it. I know I have talent but fuck, look at who my dad is or grandpa.” I threw my arms up in the air. “How can I possibly live up to those two?”
“Don’t feel like you need to live up to them. That’s not what it’s about.” Lane smiled and looked contemplative for a minute. “It’s like tires. Some of us have harder compounds and don’t provide grip. Then there are the softer compounds that provide more grip but wear quicker. We’re all different.”
Lane was right. That’s not what it was about.
I shouldn’t feel like I need to live up to them but I did. If you understood who they were in the racing community, you would understand my constant comparison. To everyone else, I was nearly fated to be this legendary racer.
But could I be?
This season sure wasn’t proving to be it. I was running ninth in the standings and only pulled through with thirteen feature wins so far.
Last season, my grandpa won forty-five of the eighty-two feature races. Stacking up against my thirteen, that’s not exactly a confidence builder right there.
“I was really young when your dad made history and pulled off the championship in his first season but no one will ever forget that Axel. They won’t because he continues to make history every time he pulls onto a track. That’s Jameson though, that’s not you.”
I nodded and took a seat on a stack of tires beside him. He handed me a beer. Though I wasn’t twenty-one, I grew up at a dirt track and beer came with that.
Lane adjusted his hat and sat next to me. Raising his beer to his lips, he paused and then looked over at me. “You have it. You just have to believe in it like he does. I’m not sure that there has ever been a time in his life when he didn’t believe in himself.”
Trying to believe in myself has always been my problem. I felt that without that constant encouragement from my dad, I couldn’t do it.
Lane and I finished up the control arms and gears on my sprint car. Then went through the checklist making sure the bolt on parts of the car and engine were secured and nothing else needed to be replaced. We then went through all the fluids and tire pressures for Charlotte. We kept logs from each race so that we knew what worked at each track. The problem was what worked one night in April didn’t work in November for the simple fact that the moisture was now gone from the track. You basically needed to start over and figure out what would work now. You couldn’t do that until you were there.
Grandpa helped us but what worked as a set-up for him, didn’t work for me with the different driving styles and weight difference.
When we were ready to leave, we loaded the car into the hauler for Craig to pick up in the morning and then locked up. In the morning, we drove to Charlotte for the final week of racing.
I knew one thing, regardless of the fact that we all had different tire variations; I was ready for a break.
Compound – Sway
After the World Finals in Charlotte, I was determined to get to Jameson. I needed my dirty heathen badly.
Between all the fan clubs, Jameson’s sponsor obligations and three kids that frequently needed Mama Wizard, Mama Wizard didn’t have much time to herself when Homestead rolled around that year.
In fact, I hadn’t been able to see Jameson in close to two-weeks and I knew it was time when I caught myself getting emotional when he Skyped me last night.
My flight was delayed in Homestead and I had yet to fly to or from Homestead without a delay. That wasn’t going to stop me. I was getting my dirty heathen naked before that damn race.
When I finally made it through traffic, to the hotel, and through the mob of fans outside, I barely got through the door before his mouth was on mine and he was pushing me toward the bed.
We had clothes strung all over the room and ended up with me on the bottom when we finally settled on the bed.
You know those times when you’re together and everything is frantic and hurried, neither of you speak. Grunting and groaning, pushing and pulling, and teasing. Yeah, that was this.
Just as I was pushing his jeans past his hips, someone knocked on the door.
“Oh for fucks sake,” Jameson grunted against my shoulder, panting. Stopping wasn’t really what he had in mind. It definitely wasn’t what I wanted.
“Jameson, we need to leave for the track.” Aiden yelled through the door. “Be in the lobby in five minutes.”
His lips moved from my neck and then my forehead and I knew he was pulling away.
“I need to go honey.” He whispered with the regret laced in every word.
So we left for the track and our time alone was over. My poor crankcase was very mad.
Soon we would be at the track and the race weekend would be starting, but there was always later tonight. I knew enough about his schedule that come tonight after qualifying and practice, I could convince him to leave.
My stomach tightened in a feeling mixed with arousal, anticipation and possessiveness while I took in every inch of him with my eyes. I watched as women approached him throughout the night, huddled around the hauler hoping to leave with him but he never looked.
Other women imagined what it would be like to have his talented hands move over their bodies, steering them like he did his car. I knew what it was like to have those large calloused hands bring me over the edge. I knew what it was lik
e to hear him say, “I love you.”
Jameson Riley might be the sexual fantasy of millions of women around the world these days, but I had more than the fantasy, I had the dirty heathen all to myself.
Those were the thoughts that kept me sane that night in the Simplex hospitality tent.
I smiled politely and shook hands with everyone but I really just wanted to be alone with him.
Jameson must have been thinking something similar because every time he touched me, or looked at me, I could practically feel the possessiveness radiating from him. His eyes watched me, his hands never leaving my skin. He felt it too. When his eyes would meet mine, they would travel down my body, stopping at all the places I knew he wanted to worship as he always did.
I nearly screamed when his fingers curled around my hip and pulled me towards him. I couldn’t take it any longer, my tire grip was gone. Leaning into him, I turned my head to kiss his neck and whispered. “You have to get me out of here.”
I felt him smile against my forehead and in less than fifteen minutes, we were back in the SUV, heading for the hotel.
We didn’t waste time, knowing we never had time. Although we did turn our cell phones off and locked the door. “No interruptions,” he whispered.
My fingers held onto his shoulders while his lips kissed across my neck and shoulders. When his mouth moved down, kissing as he went, they moved to my hair. His hands held my hips in place, keeping me from squirming away with the ecstasy that he brought me to.
He helped me from the floor to the bed, slowly crawling up my body, kissing his way to my lips. I let my hands slide from his hair, over his shoulders and down his ribs to rest on his hips.
The force of his kiss pushed my head against the pillow and his pelvis against mine anchoring me securely to the bed.
“I’ve missed you honey.” He panted scrambling for control. His body was trembling from weeks of being deprived. “Fuck, I missed you so much,”
