Bring On the Heat

by Eden Bradley

  Gleefully, Bobbi Jo parted her mouth for Joy.

  “Welcome, Bobbi Jo, to the sorority of well-fucked women.” Joy brushed her lips across Bobbi Jo’s, then plundered her mouth. Bobbi Jo hugged Joy and raised her pelvis off the bed, trying to draw Jack farther in.

  “Come to me, Bobbi Jo.”

  She heard his coaxing words while he plunged in and out of her again and again.

  “Come to us, Bobbi Jo,” Joy added softly. “You’ll never have another first vaginal orgasm. Make it a good one.”

  Bobbi Jo’s eyes slit open to see Joy smiling down at her while she fondled a breast, and then she felt Jack caressing her clit. Instantly, she pounded her heels against his back. Joy lowered her mouth to swallow her whimpers and her wails.

  Her vagina clamped down on Jack. His screams matched her own. His hot liquid mixed with hers. Her orgasm swept from her mouth to Joy’s, who began trembling in her arms.

  Minutes later, she revived. Joy lay in the crook of her arm, beaming at her. Jack knelt before her, still lodged in her pussy. They were waiting for her. “Glorious,” she whispered. “Absolutely glorious.”

  “Unforgettable?” Joy winked at her.

  “I’ll never forget this night, no matter how long I live.”

  “Good,” Jack muttered, gently pulling out of her and sliding up on her other side. He kissed her softly. “I don’t want you ever to forget. Neither will I.”

  “So, Captain,” Joy teased. “Do you want to take her ass as additional payment before you go back to the helm?”

  “No, that treasure can wait. I pride myself on not being overly greedy.”

  Bobbi Jo’s heartbeat steadied. It wasn’t that she was opposed to him taking her ass. Not anymore. Not after the tenderness and skill he’d shown in taking her maidenhead. But she did want to lie there and savor the moment.

  Her ass could wait. Apparently, Jack could too.

  ~ * ~

  Jack deliberately stayed busy until it was time to pick up the women to go to the races. He had a lot to sort out in his head, and he didn’t need Bobbi Jo screwing with his brain.

  He felt no remorse for taking her maidenhead. After all, that was why she’d shown up on his doorstep in the first place.

  His sadness was because a week from this very day, Bobbi Jo was going to become somebody else’s bride. Another man’s cock was going to defile her pussy—that sacred chamber he’d claimed as his own.

  And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He didn’t have a pirate ship where he could stow her away as his captive, and she wouldn’t go willingly. She’d made that clear from the beginning. He was merely a convenient tool for what she’d needed done.

  Jack pulled into his driveway and tried to shrug off his melancholy mood. At least he was enjoying what they did share. The pirate scene he and Joy had concocted was so erotic he’d almost been unable to hold himself in check.

  He entered the kitchen to see the women finishing packing a cooler for the evening. His jaw slackened when Bobbi Jo turned to greet him. She wore one of his white dress shirts with the tails knotted under her breasts. Her nipples standing out like buttons were only slightly shaded by the material. Her long black skirt had a slit that stopped only a little short of her waist.

  His gaze, though, settled on her belly button. A simple little silver ring piercing her navel was about the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. His hardness pressed against his jeans with sudden interest.

  “Whose idea was that?” He pointed at the ring.

  Bobbi Jo smiled sweetly. “Joy mentioned it first, but I thought it was a great way to commemorate last evening. Do you like?”

  Bile rose in his throat. “Shouldn’t the question be, will Nelson like it?”

  “Jack!” It was Joy’s single word that stung him to the core. That, and Bobbi Jo turning white in front of him. “Okay,” he acknowledged, raising his open palms to the women. “Maybe that wasn’t fair.” He couldn’t help himself. He drew Bobbi Jo into his arms. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. You always have been.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” she whispered against his chest. “I’ll never remove it. No matter what.”

  He inhaled the scent of her hair. She sure was determined. Would her husband ever ask what the belly ring symbolized? What would his wife say, if he asked?

  “You’re lovely. You both are,” he said, glancing over Bobbi Jo at the smiling Joy. He met Bobbi Jo’s gaze again. “If we had more time, I’d lay you across the table and take you from behind.”

  “But we don’t have enough time?”

  Jack laughed at Bobbi Jo’s exaggerated pout. “No, I have to be at the track soon for warm-ups and time trials.” He slipped a hand between them and up the slit of her skirt until he found what he wanted. He entered her dampness briefly, then pulled his finger out. “That’s an image for you to focus on when you get bored tonight.”

  She brought his hand to her mouth and drew in his index finger. She sucked it briefly before asking with an air of innocence, “Should I be imagining you in my pussy or in my ass?”

  He grunted and kissed her raised lips. “Let’s get the hell out of here, or I won’t be racing at all tonight.” He grabbed her by the hand and headed toward the door.

  “Remember what’s waiting for you when those Beasley twins accost you after the races.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” He missed a step and glanced quickly at her. “Was that a trace of jealousy I detected?”

  “Jack.” Bobbi Jo squeezed his hand. “Don’t think about me while you’re racing.”

  “I’ll try not to,” he huffed. “I’ll try.”

  ~ * ~

  Warm-ups were finished and time trials were beginning. Jack watched Bobbi Jo adjusting the ear plugs he’d given her to help with the deafening noise. The women had joined him on the backside, where cars were prepared for racing and drivers waited, trading stories and cussing at one another and bad luck.

  He spied Harold Mannix approaching and scowled. He didn’t really have the time or patience to deal with the burly driver who hated his guts. They’d been in more crashes than he could count. Mannix had to be livid, knowing Jack was being evaluated by the Gearing brothers.

  “Wowee!” the man declared, coming to a stop by Jack’s car. “You really are moving up in class,” he said, leisurely running his gaze up and down Bobbi Jo’s body.

  Jack stiffened.

  “Got her all tuned up, I see.” Mannix ran his palm across the car hood.

  “Don’t touch anything that’s mine,” Jack hissed between clenched teeth.

  The man guffawed. “When have I ever wanted anything you soiled?” He stared again at Bobbi Jo. “That belly ring sure is enticing, though.”

  Jack took a step forward. “Go back to your own area, Mannix. And stay out of mine.”

  “No offense, ladies.” Mannix doffed his cap. “I’ve always prided myself on appreciating class and beauty—a hot car or a hot chick.”

  Mannix shook his head at him. “And you have two. That’s hardly fair.” Mannix widened his stance and crossed his arms. There was no mistaking his challenge. “Damn,” he goaded, “I heard the rumor you might begin driving at the next level, maybe even the Busch series. Hell, I must’ve misheard. Here you are driving a blonde bush. The chick looks hot, man. Doubt you have enough cock to satisfy her. I may have to offer my services.”

  Jack heard Bobbi Jo’s gasp as his fist collided with Mannix’s stomach. The man had been waiting. His coupled fists crashed into Jack’s back at the same instant.

  Ignoring the pain shooting through his left shoulder, Jack got in one more solid jab before nearby drivers pulled him off of Mannix. He glared at the idiot, pleased to see that his last punch had connected with the man’s nose, which was bleeding profusely.

  “Get out of here, you bastard,” Jack yelled. “I warned you. Don’t touch anything that’s mine.”

  “I’m leaving.” Mannix glared over his shoulder and leered at B
obbi Jo. From a safe distance, he turned and shouted, “I doubt she’s yours, Day. She’s wearing a fancy diamond ring. One you could never afford.” Mannix brushed blood from his face. “I may be a bastard, but I don’t fuck another man’s woman.”

  Jack glowered at Mannix lumbering away before crumpling against the car. Joy cradled his shoulder and Bobbi Jo bit her lip. “I’m sorry,” she said, with tears in her eyes.

  “Don’t be,” he muttered. “Mannix had it coming. If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been something else. He’s a royal asshole.”

  “You can’t race.” Joy plied her fingers across his shoulder. It hurt like hell.

  “What do you mean, I can’t race? I’m racing. The Gearing brothers are supposed to be here by the feature race. I’m racing.”

  “But your shoulder. It’s separated.”

  “Put it back together.”

  “It’s not that easy to do.”

  “Then tie it down. I’ve driven one-handed before. No problem.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “It’s not the first time you’ve suggested that.”

  He rummaged around in two chests before handing a cord to Joy. “If I can tow a car with it, it ought to hold me together.”

  Joy laced him up tight. He grunted when she made a final cinch. “It may work,” she said. “But you’re still an idiot for trying.”

  “Yeah, well, why don’t you take Bobbi Jo to the bleachers? It should be safer there.”

  Jack glanced at Bobbi Jo and saw tears flowing down her cheeks. “Hey, don’t worry,” he said, scraping some of the tears away. “I’ll be okay.” He winked at her. “Don’t forget that image of you draped over the kitchen table and me fucking you from behind. It’ll happen, I promise.”

  Bobbi Jo shook her head and blubbered some more. She never spoke a word, but did let Joy guide her toward the stands.

  Damn, that was all he needed—a crying woman. He had a rough night ahead of him as it was.

  ~ * ~

  Bobbi Jo sat on the hard bench, clutching Joy’s hand tight and trying to keep track of the orange number nine car. So far, so good. She had to keep checking with Joy to know who was ahead. Jack and the number thirty-five car kept jockeying for the lead. It was when they passed lapped cars that she lost track of what lap they were on and who really was in front. Joy had told her Mannix hadn’t brought his car to the track, so that was at least one less worry.

  She tried not to imagine how it must be for Jack, driving with one hand. How did he manage the shifting? However he did it, he seemed to be doing it well.

  Joy stood. Bobbi Jo rose to her feet, expecting to see yet another crash. Instead she saw a white flag. She felt like surrendering—but to what or whom wasn’t clear.

  “Last lap,” Joy shouted over the incessant din.

  On the far side of the track, number nine and thirty-five scraped fenders. Neither driver seemed to hesitate. On the turn to her left, Jack dipped inward and advanced a half a length in front. Number thirty-five fishtailed around the turn, losing valuable time and space.

  Bobbi Jo clapped her hands above her head when Jack crossed the finish line a length and a half ahead of the thirty-five car. She turned and hugged Joy. They both jumped up and down until Jack drove around the track one more time and turned into the winner’s circle.

  They dashed down the stairs to join him. It took two men to help pull him out of the driver’s side window.

  He grimaced in obvious pain, then stood leaning against the car when they ran to him and put his good arm around them. “Hey, I told you I’d be fine.”

  Bobbi Jo wanted to poke him in the ribs but restrained herself. He didn’t look fine at all. He looked like he’d been to Hell and back.

  ~ * ~

  EIGHT

  Sitting on Jack’s living room couch, Bobbi Jo couldn’t keep her mind focused on the page in front of her. Her gaze shifted to the diamond ring still on her left hand. Had the ring brought on this trouble for Jack? If she’d taken it off when she first arrived, then that bully at the track might not have become so agitated.

  But no, she’d insisted on wearing it, to remind her of what she was doing.

  It was all Nelson’s fault. He didn’t have the patience to deal with a virgin. Her body warmed. Jack had certainly exhibited patience—nearly a week’s worth.

  She groaned. She was in trouble—deep trouble. And it wasn’t all Nelson’s fault. She could have been direct with him about her virginity. Instead, she’d cowered in the face of his distaste for the untested. What would he do if he knew where she was right now? Would he be enraged, or would he applaud her efforts to improve her skills for him?

  Shouldn’t he be enraged? They were practically married. But then maybe she should be enraged at him for forcing her to take such a brazen step—to ask another man to deflower her.

  Who the hell was she trying to kid? She hadn’t fantasized often about losing her virginity, but when she had, only one man had ever been part of the picture—Jack Day, her childhood sweetheart.

  Bobbi Jo sank farther into the cushions. If she lived to be a hundred and ten, nothing would ever cause Friday night to fade from her memory. She twisted the engagement ring around her finger. In a matter of days, it had become a millstone. She frowned and ran her palm over the goose bumps pebbling on her arm.

  “You look like a lost waif.” Joy entered the living room and sat down beside her. “Let me warm you up.”

  Bobbi Jo softened when Joy traced the goose bumps she’d been trying to erase. Green eyes searched hers. Joy rubbed her nose against Bobbi Jo’s. Their lips joined.

  At least this felt right. Bobbi Jo couldn’t fathom why it should, given her upbringing. But it was right. For her. For the moment, Joy’s arms provided a perfect sanctuary from the real world.

  She concentrated on pouring the passion coursing through her into her lips, hoping Joy would sense what she felt. She doubted she could ever bring herself to put those feelings into words.

  After several butterfly kisses, Joy smiled. “Me, too.”

  “You’ve been wonderful to me,” Bobbi Jo whispered. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

  “And you’ve been pretty wonderful for me, too.” Joy flicked her tongue across the tip of Bobbi Jo’s nose. “This hasn’t been a one-way street. I’ve so enjoyed watching you open to me, to Jack, to yourself. You’re not the same person who arrived here last Sunday.”

  Bobbi Jo shook her head. She kissed the top of Joy’s head as her lover licked her way across her throat and downward until she laved the top of a breast. Bobbi Jo arched her back when Joy’s mouth captured a breast and twirled her tongue around it. She would miss this—desperately.

  “Come, join me on the rug.” Joy stood and shrugged off her robe.

  Bobbi Jo did the same, then lay on the floor before the kneeling Joy. She pulled gently on her belly ring and played with the thin line of hairs leading to her vulva.

  Grinning broadly, Joy whispered, “Delightful. You’ve learned how to tease quite nicely.”

  “I’ve had a superior teacher.” She breathed easier when she saw the auburn head lowering, seeking her pussy. She placed her feet flat on the floor, arched her pelvis, spread her thighs and reached out for one of Joy’s hands.

  “Spectacular view,” Joy said, squeezing their interlaced fingers. She used her tongue to spread Bobbi Jo’s labia. “You’re so wet.”

  She closed her eyes and opened wider, preparing to accept whatever Joy was offering. Her lover’s tongue lazily slid along her folds—back and forth, up and down. It tasted everything and everywhere. If she were a chocolate-covered strawberry, she would’ve been devoured.

  She maintained her balance, suspended halfway off the floor. Joy’s tongue dipped to the base of her pussy, then trailed along its fleshy ridge until it covered her anus.

  Bobbi Jo gasped. Her legs trembled. “Easy girl,” Joy muttered.

  The very familiar tongue penetrated her anal opening. She
moaned. Tears came to her eyes. Quaking, she held her position.

  Joy became insistent, plunging in and out.

  “Oh, my God.” Bobbi Jo sighed and wet her lips, making no move to resist or assist.

  Joy moved her free hand to cover Bobbi Jo’s clitoris. She strummed her fingers across it.

  Bobbi Jo’s legs rocked back and forth. She clamped down on Joy’s hand that she still clung to. Her rear throbbed. Her clit throbbed. Her entire body throbbed. She tossed her head from side to side. This was insane. This was perfect.

  She couldn’t hold herself up much longer. Her legs buckled and her butt crashed to the rug. Joy chuckled and rested her head against her crotch. Bobbi Jo peeked at her—Joy looked as if she was listening to figure out how she might coax forth yet another climax.

  “Enough,” Bobbi Jo said, reaching for her friend. “That’s enough. How about you?”

  “This was about you. I’m not the one tormented by indecision.”

  “What?” Ignoring her still-straining muscles, Bobbi Jo scurried to stand and pulled on her robe.

  Not bothering to cover her nakedness, Joy stood and cradled her. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re not ready, but I’m confident you’ll do the right thing by Jack.”

  “What do you mean?” Bobbi Jo broke away from her lover to put several feet between them. She crossed her arms. “Explain yourself.”

  Joy shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “You’ll figure it out on your own. But you have to decide which ring has more meaning for you and which one is the key to your future—that diamond on your finger, or the silver ring in your belly button.”

  “Oh.” Bobbi Jo’s hand flew to her navel. She turned her back on Joy. Was her friend right? Was that what her early morning turmoil had been about? But she was getting married on Saturday.

  “Maybe we should check on Jack,” Joy said, interrupting her thoughts. “He’s had a day and a half of recovery. I gave him a goodly amount of painkiller to keep him from getting up and running around. We’ll need to change his bandages soon and try to get more soup down him.”