Bring On the Heat

by Eden Bradley

  Mannix never showed a desire to race. He seemed completely focused on Jack and had gone a lap down, apparently holding back, waiting for Jack to try and get by him.

  She held her breath when Jack tried to pass the silver and black car on the back straightaway. He was past him. No! The two cars were hooked together somehow. She couldn’t tell if their fenders were overlapped, or bumpers, or what, but the announcer confirmed her fears as he screamed for the crowd to watch the battle between the number nine and number fifty-four cars.

  The cars sped in front of her heading for the next turn. She stood with the rest of the crowd, convinced that both of them would fly over the embankment.

  At the last instant, Jack yanked to the left. Metal from his vehicle flew over the top of the silver and black car, which careened up and over the embankment. Its rear wheels caught and spun. The caution flag came out and many in the crowd hooted and jeered at Mannix, who obviously couldn’t move forward or backward. A wrecker lumbered onto the track. Mannix’s night was finished. Jack finished a credible fourth.

  She headed for Jack’s garage area. When she neared it, she saw two overdressed men approaching the garage ahead of her. Would her presence cause more trouble, like Saturday? She hesitated and hung back, waiting.

  ~ * ~

  The Gearing brothers entered his garage area fifteen minutes after the feature race. The stocky one, Ed, grinned from ear to ear. Bailey, tall and thin, was passive. He was the money behind Gearing Racing. Ed managed the operation.

  Ed extended his fleshy hand and shook Jack’s eagerly. “We want you on our team, kid. You got balls. We like that, don’t we, Bailey?”

  Bailey nodded.

  “You raced real fine Saturday night, but tonight you raced with class.”

  “You got enough sense not to wreck our car because of some rift you have with a wannabe driver,” Bailey said. “In the long run, that saves us all money.”

  “But,” Jack stammered, “I thought you weren’t here the other night?”

  “We weren’t,” Ed said, “but our representative was. Said you raced your heart out with one arm strapped to your side.”

  Bailey narrowed his beady eyes. “We want our drivers thinking about racing, not about pussy.”

  Jack stiffened.

  “No offense,” Ed said quickly. “What Bailey says is true. We expect our guys to concentrate on driving when they’re at the track. But we do like knowing that there are still guys willing to defend a woman’s honor. Yep. Courage. Honor. And common sense. Will you come race for us?”

  Jack stifled yelling hell yes. “In principle, absolutely. But I do want to know the particulars.”

  “Our legal people will draw up a standard contract. Don’t worry, we don’t try to lock our drivers in. We realize we’re a stepping stone to bigger things, but we do expect to make some money and share some thrills along the way. Have your legal people check it over and get back to us. The sooner the better.”

  Jack scratched his head and stared at the brothers walking away. His legal people? That was a joke. Joy could probably recommend a lawyer.

  With an extra bounce in his step, he put his garage area in order and headed for his pickup, almost forgetting Bobbi Jo until he saw her standing in the dim lights.

  “Come here,” he said, throwing her a broad grin.

  She dashed to his side and he slung an arm around her waist, matching her stride as they headed toward the parking lot.

  “What is it?” she asked. “You look like you’re ready to bust.”

  “They want me!” He stopped and hugged Bobbi Jo.

  She leaned into him. “And that’s news?” She ran her hot lips across his neck.

  “Not that.” He pressed her backside against the front fender of his pickup. “Don’t distract me. Not now,” he murmured, tracing her lips with his tongue. He placed a hand on either side of her. If she was uncomfortable with being trapped, she didn’t show it.

  “It’s the Gearing brothers. They want me to drive one of their Midwest Regional cars.”

  Her pure happiness for him filled his very core.

  “You’re moving up, Jack. I knew you would. All you have to do is set your eyes on what you want, and it’s yours, in time.”

  He leveled his eyes at her. She blushed under his intense stare. She sobered. “Maybe that was too hasty a statement.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” He opened the door for her and she climbed in. Her round butt waggled with promise. “Tonight we celebrate. Tomorrow brings what tomorrow brings, but tonight, we celebrate.”

  He drove them to one of his favorite hangouts where the music was loud, the drinks robust and the women willing. He laughed to himself. The last criterion didn’t matter. Not tonight. He already had a willing woman. Damn, if only he could preserve this moment.

  ~ * ~

  He found a table for them at the back of the establishment. Several acquaintances congratulated him on putting Mannix away. He and Bobbi Jo were nursing their third drinks when one of his best track buddies came by the table.

  “Well done, Jack. Mannix got what he deserved tonight.”

  He nodded at George Abrams. “Thanks, George.”

  He noticed Bobbi Jo perk up. She’d been quite melancholy—uncharacteristic for her and for his good news. She lifted her glass in a salute. She hiccupped. Clearly, she’d been drinking too much and too fast. “Here’s to Jacko,” she slurred. “The next Midwest driver to make it to NASCAR, Busch or whatever.”

  “What?” George stared hard at Jack.

  He nodded and shrugged. “The Gearing brothers offered me a chance to drive for them. Bobbi Jo is a little too far into her cups. This doesn’t have anything to do with Busch.”

  “Maybe not in the short run.” George’s smile split his face. “Damn, I’ll be able to tell my kids I knew Jack Day when he was working on his own cars and driving like a bat out of Hell. When do you report?”

  “Weekend after next. They’re giving me this weekend to get my shit together. I won’t be racing at the track Saturday.”

  George nodded knowingly. “Giving up on us little guys.”

  “They don’t want me to take risks that aren’t on their behalf.”

  Jack turned sharply when Bobbi Jo’s fingernails dug into his arm. “You’re going to give up driving my bush, aren’t you?”

  He frowned quickly at George, who was already backing away.

  “I’ll catch you later, Jack. Good luck.” He nodded toward Bobbi Jo. “With everything.”

  “Thanks. You too.” He rose and tossed a tip on the table.

  “Do we have to leave so soon?” Bobbi Jo complained as he half-dragged her out of the bar.

  ~ * ~

  It took most of his energy to get Bobbi Jo up the stairs, out of her clothes and into his bed. She was still hiccupping when he joined her. Their situation might have been funny if they had more time.

  He cradled her backside against his groin. She quieted, then burped. “You still owe me,” she grunted, half-awake and half-asleep.

  “What do you think I owe you?” He doubted she’d even remember talking to him in the morning.

  “You haven’t tuned my ass yet.”

  “What?”

  She made a valiant effort to lift her head, but finally gave up. “You haven’t fucked me in the ass.”

  He shook his head. She was right, and there was no way they’d accomplish that particular feat tonight.

  Before he could reply, he heard her soft snores.

  “Sleep tight, babe,” he whispered. “Maybe in the morning. If I’m lucky.”

  ~ * ~

  Grogginess battled Jack’s brain for space. He cranked an eye open to glance at the clock. Nine-thirty. Christ! How had he slept so late? Must’ve had something to do with exhaustion from his shoulder, from the race, from the Gearing brothers and from the woman he loved. Bobbi Jo!

  Jack flung the sheet off and glanced quickly around. Things weren’t right. He was alone. And then he s
pied the note on the chair next to the bed. The last time he’d paid attention to that chair, Bobbi Jo was sitting in it, teasing her ass with a vibrator.

  He lunged out of bed, took a deep breath, and picked up the note. He scanned it. Its contents didn’t surprise him, so why was his gut wrenched in a half-dozen directions?

  “Dearest Jack,

  Guess I’m a coward, but this is good-bye. I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me. And the belly ring will be a constant reminder. Best of luck with your move up the racing ladder. I don’t fully understand what all of that is about, but I am happy for you.

  Tell Joy good-bye for me.

  I’ll always love you.

  Bobbi Jo.”

  “Shit,” he yelled. “But not enough. Not enough to stay with me.”

  He balled the note up and threw it toward the wastebasket. Too bad he couldn’t as easily discard the memories of her smile, of her laughter, of her body spread-eagled before him on the bed. Damn, he never had laid her across the kitchen table.

  He headed for the shower. Would this entire fiasco make him a wiser man? He doubted that very much. Would it make him stronger? Hardly.

  The full blast of cold water hit him square in the face. He shook his head. Damn, she’d fled before he got around to claiming her ass. Son of a bitch. He turned the hot water on.

  Such was his world. One moment it was full and the next it was empty.

  He turned off the faucet when he felt a sudden blast of cold air invade the bathroom. Had she changed her mind? He yanked the shower door open. “It didn’t take you long to get here.”

  Joy Dixon reached for the buttons on her dress. “Bobbi Jo called me from the airport. We figured you could use some comfort. May I join you?”

  He shrugged. “Why the hell not? She left me again, you know.”

  “I know,” Joy said, entering the shower and reaching for his cock with one hand and the soap bar with the other. “So what are you going to do about it?” She lathered him roughly.

  “Hey, easy down there. He’s the only one I got.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m not doing a damn thing about her. She didn’t even have the guts to say good-bye.”

  “Maybe it was easier for both of you that way.” Joy used both hands to lather his chest. Her lips met his. “But that doesn’t mean you should just mope around with your thumb up your ass.”

  “You have an alternative?”

  Joy tipped back her head and laughed. “How about my thumb?”

  She turned him around so he faced the showerhead, lathered his backside, and demonstrated that her thumb did indeed fit into his ass.

  “Damn,” he muttered. She reached around for his cock. He braced himself and her hand moved swiftly, bringing him to climax. He leaned back against her for support and reached for the faucets. The warm spray cleaned him—cleaned both of them.

  After leaving the shower and toweling off, they retreated to the bedroom. “Thanks for dropping by.”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me that quickly?” Joy lay back on the bed and lifted her feet toward the ceiling. She spread her pussy lips and winked at him. “Bobbi Jo suggested you might like to have me for breakfast, since she couldn’t make it.”

  “Ah, hell,” he said, kneeling before his long-time lover. He dipped his head.

  “And she mentioned something about ass tuning?”

  “I don’t have all day,” Jack grunted, sliding his tongue along the crease of her vulva.

  Joy laughed. “This will do, Jack.” She teased his ears with her fingers. “Just eat me good.”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  “You always do.”

  ~ * ~

  TEN

  Behind shuttered eyes, Bobbi Jo thought her flight would never end. Just as quickly, she regretted that it had to end.

  She was in a world of pain. And no matter what she did, she was bound to hurt people. Not a thought she relished.

  Joy was right. She wasn’t the same innocent little girl who’d shown up on Jack’s doorstep a week and a half earlier. She was a woman—a strong woman. A woman with intense passions. And she now knew how some of those passions had to be channeled in order to be satisfied.

  The question remained: Could Nelson meet her passion? And did she even want to find out? She had to find out. It wasn’t fair to her, to Nelson or to Jack not to know.

  She remembered Joy’s words from earlier that morning: Take your time. If you’re not certain, take more time.

  Maybe the underlying principle was the same that Jack had used with her. You don’t rush a virgin, he’d said. You handle her virginity with the utmost care. You don’t proceed until she is more than ready.

  She leaned her head back against the seat and relaxed. She’d give herself as much time as it took to be sure.

  After deplaning, she headed directly for the bank. Her outfit didn’t quite reflect her usual conservative image, but she wasn’t expecting to work. She had a fiancé to meet. What would Nelson make of her bare midriff and belly ring?

  ~ * ~

  Two days later, Bobbi Jo kicked at the booted foot sticking out from under the Firebird. She grinned at the cussing that assailed her ears.

  Jack’s long legs were joined by the rest of his body when he rolled out from under the car. He spied her. She watched him quickly cover up his shock. He rose, brushed off his hands and leaned back against his car. “What are you doing here? You have another problem?”

  “Sort of,” she said, trying not to crack a smile.

  He waited.

  “You guarantee your work, don’t you?”

  He frowned. “Sure. Thirty days, no questions asked. After that, it depends.”

  “Good. You remember that tune-up you did for me?” She lifted her skirt to show him her neatly shorn pussy, in case he’d forgotten.

  “Put down your skirt, Bobbi Jo. The neighbors might see.”

  “Oh, I thought the possibility of discovery only turned you on.” She lowered her skirt slowly and made a show of staring at his arousal. “And if I’m not mistaken, that’s not a hammer you have shoved down your jeans.”

  Not bothering to try to conceal his erection, he snapped, “What game are you playing now?”

  “It’s not a game.” She held her left hand up for him. He frowned, and she watched awareness sink in. He’d noticed the absence of the diamond. Still, she couldn’t read his expression. “You said you’d tune up my cherry.”

  “I did, and I did.” He crossed his arms.

  “Well.” She pouted. “It must not have worked. I want more. I need more. My pussy throbs with want.”

  A smile slid across his mouth. “Maybe I tuned you up too good. Thought this was your wedding day.”

  “It was,” she said, demurely reaching for his hand and tugging him up his driveway toward the house. “Just about right now, actually. Turns out Nelson didn’t appreciate my belly ring nearly as much as I did.” She tilted her head to the side. “Guess I won’t make the wedding. It’s tough being in two places at once.”

  “That’s true enough. So what’s your plan?”

  “Follow me,” she said. “And I’ll show you.”

  She led Jack directly to his kitchen. “I’m glad you cleared the table. You must’ve been expecting me.”

  She bent forward, crushing her breasts on the tabletop, and tossed her skirt over her rear. She canted her head. “Are you getting the picture, Jack?”

  “It’s coming.”

  “I hope so. Without your handsome cock, I’m not coming nearly enough. You might at least want to take off those boots and pants. I expect we’ll be here awhile. You obviously have more work to do on my pussy, and you never even began tuning my ass.”

  She relished the feel of his tongue gliding over her already aching labia. “That’ll do for starters.” He licked her anus. She quivered. “Damn,” she groaned.

  “Too bad my cock can’t be in two places at once.”

  “Umm. That’s not the first time
I’ve bemoaned that fact. So what do you think? Are you going to be able to make good on your guarantee?”

  His wide cock splitting her pussy served as his answer.

  “That’s fantastic,” she muttered, clamping down on him. “I’m feeling much better already.”

  “You are a little off-kilter,” Jack said. “Re-tuning may take more than thirty days.”

  “I sure hope so.” Bobbi Jo gripped the other side of the table. The sound of his groin slapping her butt cheered her. He stayed the course. She gulped, aware that he wouldn’t be stopping to let her refuel. Not this time. She’d goaded him, but it was all good. It was payback time. And she was relishing payback.

  The first orgasm snuck up on her as if it had been waiting in outer space. Maybe it had been in the kitchen all along, waiting for her return. In any case, she embraced it, loving it, tucking the experience away in her memory bank. “Nice,” she murmured. “Now are you going to do my ass?”

  “If you want?”

  “I want. Don’t make me beg, Jack.” She reached behind her to part her butt cheeks.

  “Good God,” he said, hoarsely. “You’re so open.”

  “Open for you,” she said, softly. “For you.” She chuckled when his slick cock tapped at her entrance. She tried not to clench. He pushed inward, then held steady. His thumb had been this far before.

  Again, she clung to the edge of the table. She tried not to focus on how much larger his cock was than the vibrator she’d used.

  She chewed her lower lip and he inched in farther. She slowly continued opening for him. Each time he slipped forward, she opened a bit more, until he was completely encased. She sighed. Damn, she was so full.

  “I think you’re in,” she pointed out.

  “No kidding, Einstein.”

  “So are you just going to stand there?”