by Chloe Plume
They’d be snoozing it up, probably dreaming about getting some breakfast and spending the next morning out on some day trip. It was always a pain in the ass to wake them up and get them going.
Which was why I ended up bolting most of the time. I never took a girl back to my place, and it wasn’t just because my place was a shit hole.
But that was kind of the point. It was supposed to be me. Where the hell was she going off to in such a hurry? And why the hell was I so hung up on it?
The sex for one thing…
I still couldn’t stop thinking about it. I mean, I’d had some wild nights. I got around the block. I had a reputation.
But this was something else.
Right of, Winter had the most perfect breasts I’d ever laid eyes on. And I’d laid eyes on quite a few pairs of tits.
Hers were lush, soft, fucking magnificent—and they were natural. I couldn’t help myself when I saw those beauties bouncing in the mirror while I rammed into her from behind.
Don’t even get me started on her pussy. Her velvety slit gripped my cock like it just wouldn’t let go. I thought my head would explode when I was buried balls deep inside of her, every inch of me surrounded with her warmth.
I’d exploded so forcefully that every part of me was emptied. My cock and my mind went blank. I’d just collapsed. And it felt fucking fantastic.
My thoughts should have been elsewhere. I mean, I had a race later that day. And with a race, came girls. Girls who were ready for action, practically begging me to nail them right then and right there.
Normally, it’d be on to the next. It’s just how I rolled. Like I said, I had a reputation.
But now I had this Winter Calloway girl on my mind. That little prim and proper firecracker with a smart mouth and dress-to-hide-my-body aesthetic.
I had to admit, it was kind of turning me on. Last night, I’d ripped of those clothes to find a lush little body with the softest, most fuckable curves I’d ever seen. We’d gone from wordplay to sex play in the span of an evening. She’d been demure and bundled up right until I spread her out against the wall and rammed her until she quivered deliciously around my cock.
So, what the hell do I do now?
Just then, I heard a knock on the door.
“Yeah, who is it?” I shouted, pulling on my pants.
“Who the hell do you think?” Ink shot back on the other side. “Making sure you don’t sleep through the start of the race.”
“Yeah, right…” I opened the door.
Ink stepped in, looking around the room. “You kicked her out already?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Yeah. You know how it is.”
Ink raised his eyebrows, disapprovingly. Not like I needed more of this older brother shit.
“Look, it’s none of your business Julian,” I noted, using his real name to call attention to how serious I was. “I’m just having fun with my life. Not all of us want to hole up in our tattoo studios and contemplate the dark, artistic vibes of life or whatever the hell you do.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Ink, in his typical mysterious and contemplative fashion, walked slowly over to the window and opened the curtains, staring out over the Vegas Strip. “I’m just saying she seemed like exactly the kind of girl you need.”
I pulled on my shirt and grabbed my jacket. “Oh right, so back to the whole big brother routine again.”
“Revon—”
“No, look. I get it. Mayhem’s working for dad. And you’ve got your whole thing going on. Everyone has faith in you guys.” I was getting angry. “But what I do just isn’t good enough.”
“It’s not that,” Ink said, still staring out the window.
I grabbed my keys. “Well, I got news for you. I’m doing fine. I’m living a crazy life, one thing after another, and that’s fine by me.”
I hurried through the door.
Who does he think he is?
Yeah, sure, I didn’t have too many relationships, and it was a different girl every week, or race-to-race really. But hell, who wouldn’t want that?
My phone buzzed. A text from Uncle Norman:
Got tip on another run. Looks like tomorrow night. Get the crew ready.
Shit, a lot of stuff is going down at once.
Well, there was no question. I didn’t have time for this whole Winter Calloway thing right now. The sooner I got her out of my system, the better.
And what better way than to fuck her again?
I’d never slept with the same girl more than twice. And even then, I was usually thinking about someone else during that second go around. It’s just who I was.
Right now, I had a race to get ready for. But, hell, why not bring her along? I’d let myself have a little more to diffuse the tension. Before I knew it, the old me would bounce right back.
Chapter Seven
Winter
When he called, I answered and agreed to meet him at some track out in the desert. I probably shouldn’t have.
I’d just gotten to my Aunt’s house, and we’d barely had time to catch up. She was gracious enough to extend her hospitality for as long as I needed, saying simply that “she understood,” and I shouldn’t get married for the wrong reasons.
I hadn’t even told her about what Frank had done, or how I wouldn’t even consider going back to him at this point. I guess I was afraid of it getting back to my mother. If she heard how resolved I was, she might hop on a plane and show up at Aunt Sylvia’s.
But as much as I knew this thing with Rev Gryffin was a fling, I had to have more. I’d gotten a taste, and was yearning for the main course. The way my body felt under his touch…full of his beautiful cock…delicious.
After spending miserable years with Frank, trying to force myself into a life that never felt like my own, this was like some euphoric rediscovery.
So, dressed again in clothes that were entirely unsuitable for my surroundings, I took a car out far into the outskirts of Vegas, to some barren stretch of land serving as an impromptu racetrack.
The moment I stepped out of the car in my modest skirt and loosely draped blouse, three strange looking men approached me. The one in the middle wore a sleeveless leather vest and had greasy matted hair and a sunken look from years spent baking in the harsh Nevada desert sun.
“Well, look at this one here,” he began.
“She ain’t from around here, for sure,” his companion noted, speaking about me as if I weren’t five feet away.
I walked hurriedly across the parking lot, and they continued to follow closely. Finally, somewhere in the middle of the vast expanse of vehicles, one of the three grabbed at my purse.
“Let me help you with that, miss.”
I pulled it back over my shoulder and spun around, right into the burning hot metallic side of a parked SUV.
“Well, no need to get flustered…”
I’m not dealing with this again.
I’d had enough. So without thinking twice, I let the strap of my purse fall off my shoulder and grabbed it with my right hand. Turning towards the man closest to me, I swung it out wide and straight under his legs.
It made a solid, satisfying connection, though I’m not sure he saw it that way. But I didn’t stick around to find out. I hustled as quickly as I could on my heels, which although moderately high, were—well, still heels. Once I made it to the back of a swarming crowd, I followed the general flow across a sea of tents and out to some makeshift stands to the side of a vast track loop.
It didn’t take long to find Rev. He was holding court under a large merchandising tent, his back turned to the milling throngs of people. His silhouette stood out. Tall, lean, and muscular, with a broad back and well-defined shoulders. As I approached, I couldn’t help but notice how his fitted t-shirt put the perfection of his sculpted chest on display.
He didn’t notice me at first. I mean, how could he? What, with all those girls fawning over him, trying
to catch his attention as he spoke at length about something, all the while smiling in his charming way.
Finally he noticed me, and our eyes locked. For a moment, just one fleeting moment, I felt like we were the only two people in the world. He laughed and patted the guy nearest him on the shoulder before walking over to me.
“Winter! Thanks for coming.”
I nodded. “Thought I’d check it out.”
He shrugged. “Well, I’m glad to see you again.” He paused as if considering whether to say something more. “What do you think?”
I followed his gaze over the twisting track cutting through the sandy desert, heaps of tires stacked at the edge of every curve. “It’s interesting…”
Rev dug his fingers into the loops of his jeans as my eyes ran over the muscular striations of his forearms. “Well, it’s not quite the Las Vegas Motor Speedway, but it’s like a second home to me. I get a rush just being here, never mind the hairpins…”
“Not to mention the fan club,” I noted, gesturing over to the group of girls waiting for Rev to finish his side-chat with me. They were eyeing my outfit with amused looks and probably wondering out loud what the hell he was doing talking to me.
Rev nodded sarcastically. “Well, perks of the profession, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “More like hazards of the profession. STD hazards.”
Rev huffed out a quick laugh. “I’m clean as a whistle, just so you know. Safety first.”
“Oh yeah, give me a break. What were you talking to everyone about anyway?”
“Always the curious one.”
He smiled and I noticed again how his angular, masculine face could take on this charming vulnerability in an instant. His eyes were bluer than ever against the backdrop of the desert and the harsh sun starkly outlined his impressive form. As he brushed a stray lock of dark hair off his brow, I remarked at how he seemed both approachable and intimidating. He emanated recklessness and danger, but that enticing kind that was drawing me in.
“I was just talking about why I haven’t moved over to an automatic transmission.”
“And why’s that a big deal?”
Rev furrowed his brow, taken aback. “It’s only the biggest deal. These expensive new 8 speed automatics are looking pretty good and in a straight run they’d be hitting the power bands quicker and more accurately than any human driver—I mean, they spend a fortune tuning them to do just that.”
“Sounds like a real advantage.”
Rev turned to the track, where cars were already pulling up to the line for the start of the first heat. “Yeah, but what do you see?”
“A lot of turns I guess.”
A glimmer ran across Rev’s eyes as he grew noticeably excited. “Exactly. See, it’s tough to handle over 700 horses of power with my six-speed manual. But I get that much more control through the entry and exit. I double-clutch, rev-match, and use every tool I have to gain an advantage through the corners.”
“So you can handle the power?” I asked sarcastically.
“Oh yeah, I can handle it.”
He laughed, deeply and without restraint. His passion and sense of humor were really getting to me. A shiver ran down my spine as he stepped in close.
“So, I have a question,” he said in a gruff tone. He was leaning in so close I felt his breath against me, and the spicy scent of his skin washed over me. “Everything over with that jerk fiancé of yours?”
“Whose the curious one now?” I murmured.
“Just wondering. Didn’t seem like that rich asshole deserves a girl like you.”
“Who said anything about him being rich?”
He stared out over my shoulder and into the distance. “Just an educated guess. It’s usually the rich ones that do that kind of shit. Power trip or whatever.”
“Yeah.” I watched as he scanned the horizon. He was thinking something over, looking contemplative. All the while, I was hoping he’d make some mention of last night. Something to indicate he was thinking about what happened between us, like I was—every damned minute.
Or maybe that’s exactly what I didn’t want. Sure, we shared a lust-filled night of delicious, hot and heavy sex. And yes, I was most certainly hoping for another. But that was all that it could ever be. Sooner or later, I’d be right back on a plane to New York so I could enjoy endless admonishment from my mother and some kind of reintroduction into the life I was meant for.
Back to reality.
As if it were some cosmic conformation, Rev changed the subject immediately. “Follow me,” he blurted out, walking off to where his car sat shining bright near the side of the track. “I want to introduce you to my crew.”
I walked quickly behind him, struggling to keep pace with the stride of his long legs.
“These are the guys behind the guy, so to speak.” Rev motioned to a motley group hovering around the gleaming car.
“Yes, every so often Rev likes to recognize the little people.” A short, stout man in glasses stepped forward and extended his hand. He wore an immaculately groomed beard, and although there was definitely something nerdy about him, his clothes were sharp and trendy. “Derek.”
“Winter.” I shook his hand.
“Alright, alright.” Rev beamed. “Derek over here runs all the stuff I don’t understand. The way he re-flashes the ECU in a car, you wouldn’t even know what the hell you’re driving. Best race tuner, hands down.”
“That and other things,” Derek acknowledged, pressing his frameless square lenses up his long, prominent nose.
“And these two clowns,” Rev began, motioning to two almost identical looking tall blonde crew-cut guys, “these guys know even more about the mechanics of a car than even I do. Real gear-heads. Stefan and Adrian—meet Winter. They’re from Norway or something, originally.”
“Actually, Denmark,” they said in unison as I shook their hands.
“Same thing,” Rev quipped. He shrugged. “Known these guys for years and I’m always forgetting things. Like whose who—couldn’t tell them apart if my life depended on it.”
“Is good,” either Stefan or Adrian noted. They crossed their arms and leaned back against the huge mobile tool chest to the side of the car. They even dressed the same: black shoes, dark skinny jeans, and black t-shirts. Minimalists through and through.
“And finally…” Rev looked around. “Oh, there he is.” He walked over to a man bent over a laptop, jotting notes with one hand while the other tapped furiously at the keyboard. “This is, both literally and figuratively, the man with the plan.”
“Cruz.” He raised his hand as I approached, we exchanged a quick handshake, and he resumed his intense scanning of the laptop screen.”
“That’s his actual name, by the way,” Rev noted.
“Instead of just shortening your name in an effort to connote motor racing enthusiasm?” I joked.
Rev raised his eyebrows sarcastically. “Haha… Well, I’ll tell you this. Cruz is the best damn driver I’ve come across, bar none. Taught me everything I know back when I used to ditch school and come out to practice my drifts and hairpins.”
“Well, good thing you turned out to be a better driver than a student.” Finally Cruz stood up and put his hand on Rev’s shoulder.
He was a big guy. Taller than Rev, older too, with a large heavyset jaw and weathered features. He spoke calmly and with authority. You could tell he was a mentor to Rev. You could also tell he’d been through a lot. There was a noticeable twitching in both his hands.
“Not as good as you were,” Rev said enthusiastically. “Shit, you were at the top of the game in rally and big-time motorway racing. Came out in front of guys with tons of money and corporate teams. All I do is this off-in-the-desert shit.”
Cruz tilted his head thoughtfully. “I also overdid it too early. I got reckless, put too much power into my oversteer, and suddenly my damn hands don’t work too well. One turn. That’s all it took.”
“You could still beat half the guys out h
ere,” Rev declared.
“That doesn’t mean the same thing when you used to be able to beat the other half too. You’ve got to know when to move on.”
Rev bent his head and acknowledged what Cruz said with a short moment of silence. He then turned to look over some of the notes on the small foldable table at which Cruz was working. “Well, you’re still a damn tactical genius.” He patted Cruz on the shoulder and turned to me. “Not only does he dissect and analyze every inch of a track, he reads into every detail of every driver, car, and team out there. Sometimes I think we’re all playing checkers, and Cruz over here—well, he’s playing chess.”
Cruz shook his head. “Alright there chatty cathy, time to get going.” He handed Rev a small piece of blue plastic and Rev put it in his ear. “Everything’s synched up with the car’s signal, I double checked. This isn’t rally, so I won’t be in your ear every second. But there’s some tricky turn-ins and apex points we have to nail.”
“Alright, alright.” Rev put his arm around me and we walked to his car. He opened the door and fumbled in the center console before retrieving a pair of sunglasses. “What do you say we get together after the race?” he asked, as if he were an old friend I hadn’t seen in a while, instead of the stranger who’d fucked me senseless just last night.
“Only if you win,” I teased.
Rev smiled. “If it means another round of what we did last night, I’ll most certainly have to.”
He did some light stretches before jumping into the car, crossing each arm over his chest and twisting. I watched his thick muscles tense against his sleeves and his abs ripple under the thin fabric of his fitted shirt.
I wanted those strong arms pinning me against the wall again. And that chiseled torso bent over me, flexing with long, deep strokes…
The car roared to life as Rev turned the ignition and slowly rolled away from the tent and towards the track. As he passed me, he comically blew me a kiss.
I shook my head.
What a wise ass.
And hot ass.
Thoughts of Rev’s rock hard rear tensing between my thighs only made me more anxious.
