Black Flag (Racing on the Edge)

by Stahl, Shey

  Jameson pouted for a good part of the morning until I made him an omelet. Whenever I needed to distract him, I had a choice of showing him my funbags or giving him food. Since showing the funbags would result in him wanting boring time, I chose food.

  While Jameson ate his delicious omelet, Charlie came out of the Lucifer twins’ room ranting about shit, actual shit.

  “Logan, Lucas?” he called out. They hid behind Andrea, knowing he was on a rampage this morning already. “I just found shit in your room.”

  “Our toys aren’t shit.” Logan defended. He even placed his scrawny arms on his hips. “That’s not nice to say.”

  “No, I mean actual shit...like feces.”

  Logan shrugged peeking around Andrea’s leg. “It’s from my shoe...I guess.”

  “Well I should hope it’s from your shoe, otherwise what the fuck?”

  Getting everyone out the door was a feat in itself. Logan whined about not being able to take his Iron Man action figure. Jameson outlawed it when Logan threw it at him for the hundredth time that morning. Lucas whined about Jameson burning his Star Wars light saber earlier in the morning when he stabbed him with it. I would have done the same thing so I hardly felt bad for either one of them. They should know better than to fuck with Jameson. They should have a talk with Emma about fucking with Jameson—she could tell them some stories, including the one where she woke up glued to her bedroom wall because she stole his cell phone.

  Once on the plane, I attempted to read a pregnancy book with Jameson over my shoulder, reading along with me.

  It was annoying as fuck having someone read over your shoulder. But what was even more annoying was traveling with all these lunatics.

  Up until now, I hadn’t been listening to Charlie and his in depth conversation with Logan, who I’m sure had no clue what he was talking about. I didn’t want any part of that conversation so I continued to read regardless of Jameson breathing down my neck. It seemed like a better idea then listening to Charlie and Logan.

  When I got to the part that talked about the baby kicking and that we could start to feel it soon, Jameson craned his neck forward to look at me.

  “Have you felt that baby kick?” His eyes excited. I stared at him for a moment, the morning light coming in from the small window beside us highlighted his stubble over his jaw.

  “No...not yet,” I lied.

  I had my reasoning. When he felt it, I wanted Jameson to think he’d felt the baby for the first time because like I said, there will be many things in our child’s life that he will unfortunately miss. Feeling our child move was an experience I wanted him to have.

  His hand immediately went to my stomach but of course, our stubborn child did nothing but lay there on my bladder like a blob.

  Logan, who’d been whining about food for the last hour, finally got on Charlie’s nerves enough.

  “Listen Logan!” Charlie yelled, his voice echoed throughout the cabin. “You’re a tornado of bullshit right now. We’ll talk again when your bullshit dies down.”

  Logan naturally threw himself into his mom’s arms crying.

  Jameson and I laughed.

  Charlie glared. “You two just wait!”

  When the plane landed at Charlotte Douglas International Airport, we made our way over to Jameson’s Mustang that was waiting for him. I was relieved that it only had two seats. The rest of the terrible tagalongs took an SUV together to their hotel for the night.

  I went to the bathroom before we got in the car, but ten minutes into the drive, I had to pee again.

  “I have to pee.” I announced when Jameson pulled onto the highway.

  “Seriously?” he groaned glancing sideways at me, His Oakley sunglasses slid down his nose. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “Yes.” I smiled, distracted briefly by those damn sunglasses and how the black contrasted the green in his eyes.

  “Can’t you wait? Hold it.”

  “Can’t,” I was starting to sound like a spoiled child who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  “Yes you can.”

  “No...I can’t.”

  “Yes you can.” And now Jameson was starting to sound like a father.

  “No,” I shook my head. “I really can’t.” I began bouncing my legs in my seat much like Emma did when we were camping, which wasn’t helping my problem with needing to pee.

  “Sway,” he sighed. “Just wait.”

  “Jameson.” I sighed just as dramatically.

  “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “How much do you like this car?”

  “A lot, why?” His eyes scrutinized me.

  “Cause I peed.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep,”

  “Goddamn it Sway!” Jameson shouted crossing two lane of traffic to get into the right lane. “You couldn’t fucking wait, could you?”

  “Nope,” What was funny to me wasn’t to Jameson. I didn’t really pee in his precious Shelby GT 500 but it was fun convincing him of this.

  Jameson, visibly upset, pulled off the highway, stormed into the rest stop bathroom, and returned with entire roll of paper towels. “I can’t believe you.” He mumbled throwing the door open.

  I got out before he could realize I didn’t actually pee.

  Although when I made my way back to the car, his callous expression worried me a little.

  “Couldn’t wait huh?”

  I slapped him on the shoulder and said, “Waiting on you now,” And got back inside.

  Once back on the road, Jameson was quiet so I decided a good distraction was proper.

  “What are you doing?” he asked when I unbuckled myself and leaned across the center console to run my fingers lightly up his leg.

  “You need a distraction...” I answered in a soft voice that I knew would arouse him.

  My dirty heathen returned. His gaze shifted from the road, irritation subsiding when he grinned and waggled his eyebrows at me. Casually his arm lifted from the steering wheel and draped around the back of my seat. “Go ahead honey, distract me.”

  It didn’t take long, two minutes to be exact and I had him properly distracted.

  “What’s that face for...does it taste bad?” he asked when I took a large drink out of my water bottle.

  “Not really...”

  It was bitter but I didn’t want to tell him his oil leak tasted bad. That would be mean. And it didn’t taste bad, it was just bitter.

  “You don’t have to...you know...swallow it.” Jameson shifted uncomfortably in his seat buttoning his jeans.

  “I know...but I like to.” I told him. “You should eat more pineapple.”

  “Pineapple?” he looked at me, his eyebrows raised in question.

  “Yes, more pineapple. Makes it taste better, so I’ve read.” I explained with a shrug. “I’ve never tested the theory out...yet.”

  He only nodded but I could tell he was curious as to where I learned that. Growing up without a mother, I had to rely on my own research or Nancy and Emma. This had me doing my own research frequently. So I got a sex book that was written by a porn star, Jenna Jameson. I thought for sure if I needed advice, I needed to rely on professionals. And I wonder how I got knocked up?

  Later that night, Nancy had the brilliant idea that we all go to dinner. Brilliant to her, dumb to us.

  Jameson and I personally thought this was a horrible fucking idea, but who would ever listen to us?

  Once at the restaurant, Logan exercising his asshole skills and screamed like the child he was for a milkshake. I tried to be grown up about it, and not freak out on him and his loud querulous behavior, but I wanted to smack the little shit. That might have provided some issues with child abuse so I didn’t. Though I was positive people would take my side when I told them how he was being completely ridiculous for a six year old.

  Andrea just stood by watching the madness unfold. What happened to parent control? He may be only six years old but I was pretty sure at six years
old, he should know how to act normal.

  It didn’t take long and I was eating my body weight in pork ribs with barbeque sauce smothered over everything.

  The Lucifer twins, who were sitting beside me, continued to act like complete assholes.

  Lane began to take notice. He was either wondering what their problem was or contemplating acting the same way to get what he wanted. Who knows which one he would choose because right then, he was just staring at them with a blank expression.

  It also didn’t take long before Alley was directing the flow of fans away from Jameson so he could actually enjoy a hot meal without some fan wanting an autograph or picture. It was completely useless because the more she pushed them away, the more they swarmed.

  When another fan approached, I looked toward Spencer. His face and hands covered in barbeque sauce as he stared intently at Tommy and Justin across from him. I had a feeling with the way Tommy was staring back that they had some kind of unspoken eating contest going down.

  Ryder Christensen, a USAC driver Jameson had known for years, showed up about that time. Pushing pas the fans, he gave Jameson a hug and then sat down to enjoy some good barbeque with us.

  Emma smiled politely toward Ryder. She lost her virginity to him back when Jameson was competing for the USAC Triple Crown National title. Aiden must not have known but Ryder was polite enough he didn’t make a big deal and just smiled at her. They never had a relationship, just humped.

  Laughing, I looked at Jimi when I heard him chuckle. He and Nancy seemed to be in their own personal bubble, ignoring everything else around them and having a moment with each other. That was until a fan requested his autograph.

  Jameson wasn’t the only one being stalked tonight. Jimi, Ryder, and Justin have had their fair share too but nothing close to the pure lunacy surrounding Jameson. It was times like this I realized just how much of Jameson’s privacy had been raped from him. He had none anymore. With the quiet way he spoke and the wary way he watched the crowd around him told me he was uncomfortable.

  After another thirty minutes, Jameson was finally able to eat his cold meal. The overly coquettish waitress brought out another plate for him trying to blandish him into going home with her. Up until that point, I remained seated across from Jameson, until he winked and motioned for me to come over when the waitress wouldn’t leave.

  I swaggered my knocked up pigizzle ass over to him. I was originally going to take a seat next to him but instead, he pulled me onto his lap.

  I smiled widely at the public display of affection. A few fans took some pictures of Jameson and I seated together, which I really didn’t mind. I was just happy to be close to him. Just his scent had a way of calming me down.

  Jameson eventually started eating but kept me seated securely on his lap and I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he licked the barbeque sauce off his fingers.

  Lucas decided he was cold and stole Jameson’s North Face jacket from the back of his chair.

  This didn’t seem like something Jameson would usually get upset about but he did.

  “Lucas!” he seethed scrambling for him. “Give me the fucking jacket.”

  Lucas ignored him and stuck his tiny arms through the sleeves, then started rummaging around through the pockets like the klepto he was.

  “Hey—what’s this?” Lucas asked removing a black box from the pocket. Before I could get a good look at what it was, Jameson lunged for Lucas knocking glasses and plates over in the process to get to him.

  Emma and Alley moved to sit next to me which I assumed was a distraction as Jameson retrieved the mystery box from Lucas. I had a distinct feeling that black box was the mysterious box in his pants the other night.

  Ten minutes later, Jameson was seated next to me again, staring at me like he wanted to ask something. I was about to ask him why he was staring at me when Logan laughed. “You shouldn’t carry the—” Charlie cut him off by grabbing his head into a head-lock.

  “Kids...” Charlie grinned. “Little bastards say the stupidest shit sometimes.”

  Jameson’s head fell forward against the table mumbling something I couldn’t make out.

  I also had a feeling as to what was in the box now but I also had enough sense not to ask. Whatever it was, he wasn’t ready to tell me.

  After dinner that night, Jameson and I intended on watching a movie but once we were alone in the dark movie room, trying to pick a movie, he had other plans. I wrapped my arms around him and put my hands in the back pockets of his jeans. Jameson bent his head down and trailed a row of kisses from my neck up. Lifting me up, he easily carried me over to the couch. My back hit the soft leather and Jameson’s body was on top of mine in an instant.

  “You smell so good.” His low voice whispered in my ear.

  I whimpered in reply. “So do you.”

  He pulled me closer, his lips working in perfect unison against my own. Jameson hitched my leg around his waist so that he could push himself deeper between my legs, still cautious of my baby bump. He groaned, and my head fell back against the sofa revealing my neck as he placed wet kisses against it. We moved together, his hips pushed against mine, his hands hungrily kneading the skin of my lower back before gripping my waist to create the friction he desired for proper reciprocating motion. His hips deliciously ground against mine, and I almost couldn’t take it, almost.

  His firm body pushed me into the leather and I let out whore moan of epic proportions. I could actually feel the camshaft harden in response.

  “You’re killing me, honey. I want you so bad.” The way he intoned the word “want” left me a quivering mess in his arms willing to give him anything he wanted.

  “Me too...” I panted against his neck. “I think I need to check for thickness variation.”

  What started out as something fairly chaste, turned violently passionate at those words. My back arched into him. I moaned in his ear, which spurred him.

  “Let’s go up to my—” he stopped when he heard footsteps.

  “Just coming to see if you picked a movie...” Nancy interrupted coming into the movie room. “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Do you need a condom?” she giggled. “Never mind, you already knocked her up.” Another giggle escaped her.

  “Maybe if we’re quiet” Jameson whispered. “she’ll leave.”

  “Not likely Jameson. Sway honey, are you okay?” she brushed her hair from her face to get a closer glance.

  “Mom...leave.” Jameson said through kisses and my giggles. Thankfully, it was dark and she couldn’t see all that well, but I’m sure she knew what he was doing between my legs. After all, she was the mother of two boys.

  “Honey, you shouldn’t be dry humping her with everyone else in the other room.” Nancy huffed. “There are children present.”

  “Hey!” Emma chirped walking into the room. “Eww gross, get off her.”

  “Leave,” Jameson said more sternly to the two of them.

  “Are you sure everything’s all right?” She moved closer tucking her rusty locks behind her ear. “I think you’re crushing Sway and the baby.”

  Emma giggled curling into the chaise lounge on the other side of us. “Yeah, you’re squishing her fat ass.”

  “I’m fine Nancy, and so is the baby.” I said from under him.

  “Good,” satisfied, she sat in an overstuffed leather chair next to us. “Let’s watch a movie. Logan, Lucas, the movie is on!”

  Jameson growled against my neck. “Damn it...” his head fell against my shoulder and then he reluctantly rolled off me to sit up, pulling a pillow over his lap, which made me giggle again. He shot me a glare but smirked after a moment when I mouthed, “later” to him.

  Emma laughed. “Poor Jameson,” She gave him a pouty lip.

  Jameson being Jameson; snatched the popcorn bowl from Nancy and launched it at Emma across the room, ending her giggle fit.

  I felt like a kid again who got caught making out which made me giggle again. I stopped giggling all together
when the Lucifer twins joined us.

  They’d apparently already wrapped Nancy around their fingers and convinced her to let them stay at the house instead of the hotel with Charlie and Andrea.

  It was a bad idea.

  I must have fallen asleep in the movie room because when I woke up it was morning I was in Jameson’s room and he was nowhere to be found.

  After taking a quick shower, I made my way downstairs to find everyone gathered around the table outside on the deck.

  “What are you doing?” Spencer asked Jameson watching him pick through the fruit. “You hate pineapple.”

  “No I don’t.” Jameson mumbled reaching for the pineapple from the breakfast spread Nancy arranged.

  “Yes you do, dude.” Spencer continued to load an obscene amount of bacon on his plate.

  “Shut up.” Jameson responded walking away, pineapple in hand, to sit down at the table. The morning sun caught his rusty loops that where peeking out from under his white hat.

  Thinking of Jameson eating pineapple, which he did in fact hate, a giggle slipped out.

  Everyone turned to look at me standing near the French doors.

  Nancy, the loving mother she was, jumped at the chance to help me with a plate. “You’re up honey. How are you feeling?”

  “Good...hungry.” The entire house smelled delicious. Pancakes, waffles, eggs, potatoes, fruit, bacon...oh god...it was a pregnant woman’s dream come true. Nancy had once again outdone herself.

  After piling my plate in a similar fashion as Spencer had, I took a seat beside Jameson. He immediately smirked eating his pineapple and pushed a cup toward me, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly to both acknowledge my presence and the fact that he was eating pineapple.

  I eyed the paper cup and pineapple suspiciously. “Where’d that come from?”

  “I went and got it for you this morning.” He shrugged. “It’s a decaf white chocolate mocha.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, you seemed tired last night so I thought you’d need it this morning.” He leaned over a kissed my cheek.