Pole Position

by Karen Botha

  “No, Kyle. You won’t be needed to attend that function.”

  He does it. He pushes Kyle out, and he says his name with that icy sneer. And because I’m waiting for it, I’m able to watch his bad tempered expression simultaneously wash over his features. It’s clear. He’s not even trying to hide his sudden hatred for a man who has done nothing but support him.

  I pounce. “What’s going on, Axel?” I make sure to keep my voice soft.

  His scowl of contempt flushes with guilt before he adopts an angelic look of innocence. “What do you mean?”

  I count to three in my head before snapping his off. “Well, you just don’t seem to be Kyle’s biggest fan since that night when he suggested we should tell people that you’re my son.” There, it’s said. He’s not my biggest fan either at the moment, but he’s even less of Kyle’s, and I’m wondering if it’s because Kyle had my back and voiced what he knew had been on my mind. That Axel is now blaming him for whatever issues he has with both of us.

  “It’s nothing. Don’t be stupid. We just don’t need him there. That’s all I was saying. You wouldn’t have acted like that if Jessie had said the same thing.”

  “No, because Jessie didn’t. It was you. And it wasn’t what you said, it was how you said it. And it’s not the first time. So, what’s going on?”

  He sits, face staring toward the new purple sneakers I recently bought for him. Some brand that is apparently what all the young, cool kids have. Not that I’d know. I used to be a bit of a fashion icon in my day, but not any more by the looks of it.

  Kyle is also taken aback. I haven’t mentioned this to him either. I knew how I was going to deal with this, so I didn’t need to make a big issue of it. He looks at me, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, telling me to tread very carefully. However, in light of Axel’s refusal to acknowledge what needs to be said, I continue. “Axel, Kyle only said those things the other night because he knows that it’s how I feel. We don’t want to use you for promotional purposes. Jessie, has either of us ever spoken to you about going public with Axel being my son?”

  The tension is so fraught that, I swear, with one wrong move, we’ll end up with the oxygen masks discharging.

  Jessie’s neck is stiff as she shakes her head. “No.” Her voice is low.

  “And, have we ever discussed, if we do at any point come out with Axel being my son, how we can capitalize on that?”

  She speaks up this time. “No, you haven’t. But if you want my advice, it’s the right thing to do. All this will come out eventually. These situations always do, and this way we can handle it our way, rather than having it blow up in our faces.”

  I don’t speak, allowing her comments to sink in.

  “Well, you’re bound to say that. You’ll say whatever he wants you to,” Axel snaps.

  I dare to snatch a look at Kyle who is sitting with his back pressed into his seat, waiting for the fallout, which is surely coming.

  Jessie colors as her jaw tightens. “Oh, really? You think, do you?” Jessie is not scared of Axel. He is nothing to her, other than the little shit that we all know him to be. Kyle and I just happen to love him as well. But to Jessie, well, he’s a pain in her side and her subordinate who just massively misjudged her.

  He starts to speak, but she cuts him off.

  “Now, you do not speak to your boss like that, do you hear? Firstly, it’s out of line, and secondly, it’s not true. I have had no such conversations with your father about any of this, because he will do whatever you want in order to make you happy. Nor have I had any such conversations with Kyle, because he will also do whatever it takes. Do you know why?” She’s doesn’t give him time to say whether he does or he doesn’t, such is the pace at which her rant is snowballing. “It’s because they love you, and you would do well to understand and appreciate that. The only reason that this pair doesn’t want to hide you back under the rock that you crawled out from is because they want you in their lives. Properly. Do you know how many kids would kill for that opportunity? It’s what you wanted once. What happened to you?”

  Jessie and I have been a team for so long now that we rarely have disagreements anymore, so I forget about her feisty side. But it’s still there. And she did me proud. She said what neither Kyle nor I was able to.

  Kyle

  Once we’d taken off, I barely had the chance, or the need, to get a word in edgewise, but when Jessie had finished her piece, three pairs of eyes are directed at Axel.

  The silence washes over us, coming to settle on our skin like fumes more toxic than any we encounter on the racetrack. It makes our flesh prickle and our skin clammy as we wait to see how Axel will respond. My blood runs cold as I wait, unable to take back anything that has been said, and although this is purgatory, I don’t want to. Axel has had this coming, and I have to admire the way that Elliott has dealt with it. And the way that Jessie, instinctively knowing what is needed, did not shy away from running to the aid of her old friend.

  We all cringe, waiting.

  I don’t dare look at Elliott for fear of being shouted down by Axel for colluding with the man with whom I share my life. I pretend that the view outside the window is way more interesting than the boring blue of another monotonous sky.

  And I wait. Because, Axel does not even acknowledge Jessie or her points. It’s as though she never bothered to open her mouth. Instead, he stares her down with eyes as hard as the iron will that matches that of his father.

  When we land, there are a few cursory exchanges about campers, baggage, transfers, then general business arrangements, but as soon as we hit the camp, the strain eases as Axel takes off in search of the buddies he wanted to travel with all along.

  There’s an audible exhale as all three of us let out the air we’ve been holding for the entire first half of the journey. Jessie is the first to speak. “Sorry, El, I just had to.”

  “It’s OK. You know that.” He pats her arm.

  “Isn’t it amazing how one scrawny kid can control three otherwise wholesome and confident adults?”

  We laugh. “Goodness, I wish I could have a beer,” Elliott muses, shaking his weary head.

  “Well, hopefully he’ll have time to think about what I said and come back with his head screwed on the right way now,” Jessie snaps, getting wound up again just at the mere thought of his behavior.

  “Who said perfection was easy?” I laugh wryly.

  “I’m going to the garage to take a look at how these upgrades transported. You coming?” I ask El.

  “Sure, we’ll see you later, Jessie.” Elliott waves. She’s already nodded her goodbye and is waving over her shoulder as she takes off toward her accommodations.

  The garage is a hive of activity. The atmosphere here is way better, and it instantly lifts our mood.

  “This upgrade is awesome, El. Bet you can’t wait to try it out on the track. You should easily improve your previous qualification position.”

  Elliott

  We’ve struggled with the reliability of our car since our first race, and not wanting to push the engine, which was on the temperamental side, I’ve been driving safe races so as not to burn it out. Now, we’re hoping that I can really start to push. There’s added pressure, because if I do well this weekend, a new sponsor will sign up. And that will be amazing because it will take the financial strain off Kyle and me.

  “Start the engine up,” Greg shouts over to the guys.

  It growls to life. But she’s nowhere near as ragged as she was; instead, she purrs like a tiger, waiting to pounce on her prey. Or at least, that’s what I hope.

  “We can’t wait to see how she performs.” Greg grins as the guys, also pleased with themselves, turn her off again.

  “You did brilliantly with that. I can’t believe she’s set up already.”

  “There’s still some work to do.” He points at the chassis, which has no bodywork on.

  “Ah, that’s just an advertising billboard,” Kyle smiles as he inspects the mechani
cs of the engine.

  “You sorry you’re not down here working on it too?” I ask when we walk off to our RV.

  “Yes and no. I loved that time of my life, but it led to different things. And I love running the company more now that I’m more settled.”

  As the day continues and we run through our usual round of press interviews, like the pros we now are. Kyle nips off to his conferences, and I take care of mine, and it’s nice to not feel I need to worry about him anymore.

  I push the whole Axel disagreement out of my mind, although I do briefly consider whether I shouldn’t just announce to the world that he’s my son and just have it done with. I have all these interviews lined up over the next few days; it would be easy enough to let something slip. But, like I say, I know that would be suicide for our relationship, so it’s a fleeting consideration.

  When Kyle and I meet up that evening though, we finally get to talk it through.

  “I couldn’t believe Jessie said all of that.” He forms a wide O with his mouth, eyes bulging.

  “I know, it made me cringe. But I’m glad she did. How do you think he feels?”

  “I think his pride is hurt, El. He’s lost and he found us, but he doesn’t want to accept that because if he does then that’s him granting us a power which can hurt him. Plus, he needs to maintain his control, because that’s the only thing he’s been able to own his whole adult life, until now.”

  “He’s only a teen now. What do you mean adult?”

  “Don’t forget, he had to grow up quickly, which is why sometimes he seems so mature and then at other times, it’s obvious he’s not. It’s only because he was trying to look after himself when he shouldn’t have had to worry about those things. Don’t be too hard on him. Forgive him his idiosyncrasies, but don’t let him get away with shit.” His lips brush over mine, and I smell his fresh aftershave from this morning.

  “Hmm, that helps. Thanks for that sound advice.”

  He grins. “Sorry. What I mean is, he’s behaving like a dick, but it’s because he’s confused about how he should behave, not because he actually is a dick. So, don’t hold his dick-like behavior against him. Does that make more sense?”

  “That actually makes perfect sense.” And it does. It’s odd how Kyle has the ability to see what I can’t always.

  “You’re too close to it.” He reads my mind. Again.

  Elliott

  It’s first practice today, and I am so geared up for winning. I struggled to sleep last night, thinking so much about my high hopes and how great this car sounds, wishing I could actually dream about finally being back on that pole position.

  Greg has strapped me in, and given the all clear to go ahead, I fire her up. I feel the vibration of the engine down my legs and into my butt. The old car was jagged, struggling to tick over with ease. Ultimately that is what led to her overheating and just performing way below the bar we’ve set for ourselves. The feel of this engine, before I’ve even taken off down the pit lane, is smooth and easy. It’s like comparing a box wine to a bottle with heritage.

  My heart rate, which had been running fast in anticipation, now slows, confident in the car’s abilities. It’s time. I’m released down the pit lane, and then out onto the track. Taking it easy, I test how our upgrades will transpose into power and subsequent handling. I ease my boot down, and she picks up just how I want her to. I attack the first corner with minimal aggression, but my girl is on rails, positioning exactly as I want. I come out, and the track straightens. I see what power she has, and she glides through the gears, soaring up to a competitive speed.

  Fuck. I think we’ve got this.

  When the next bend comes, I floor her a little harder, lifting my foot off the gas and braking later. She’s relaxed, taking the increased pressure with grace and elegance.

  I scream into the radio. “This is amazing, guys. How are the temperatures?”

  “They’re good, El.” I hear the elation of my team in the voice of that one man, as Trevor speaks for them all.

  “Do you want to turn her up, see what she can do?” I ask.

  “I was going to say the same.” Trevor is giddy. Between the two of us, we change the settings of the car so that the power running through the engine increases.

  ‘Now, let’s see what you’ve got, baby.’

  And she goes. She doesn’t struggle, she doesn’t lurch, there’s no screeching. She simply soars forward and not only am I alive, I’m confident. That’s a feeling I’m now unfamiliar with, but my soul sings as I approach a corner and I wait before I brake, wait... wait... testing just how far I can undertake a competitor in the race and how she will handle if I try this late-braking tactic.

  And she behaves.

  I literally cruise around that bend as though this is how she’s meant to be driven. I don’t veer off the racing line. Sure, I have some vibrations through my steering column, and I need to ensure that I’m gripping the wheel well in order to float around, but that’s my job. It’s what I was born to do.

  Kyle

  That night we are celebrating with the team around the open fire. I say celebrating because we’re all together, and spirits are high. But anything more than that and we risk blowing our chances tomorrow by being premature. However, we all know that our car did exactly what we wanted it to do today, perhaps even better. The improvements may just have saved our season and that will mean bringing in a new sponsor. As I swill the one beer I’m allowing myself, I consider whether we need to have new uniforms printed, or if stickers will suffice for the rest of the season.

  Axel is keeping a distance. He’s sitting around the opposite side with his friends. It’s not unusual because he’s intent on people not knowing who he is, so there’s no tension associated with it. Quite frankly it’s fine that he’s separate from us. The last thing Elliott needs right now is to have that mental distraction when he’s set up for what could be the most important day in his career so far, tomorrow.

  “Come on, I need an early night.” Elliott tugs at my elbow, stands, and says to the team. “I’ll see you all in the morning. I have to grab some shuteye now. Don’t stay out here too late.”

  “You sound more like a father every time you open your mouth,” I jibe him as we walk back to our camper arm in arm. He smells of the smoke from the fire as I tug him close. We amble back in an amiable silence, both content to enjoy that unfamiliar feeling of minimal stress. And when we arrive back and unlock the camper we move around in a pattern that has developed over time. I undress by the sofas and Elliott by the bed. He uses the bathroom first and then when our routine is complete, we climb into bed and snuggle.

  He leaves the light on as he nestles his head into the crook of my arm, resting his on my abs, his hand resting between my pecs.

  “The guys have nailed that car, Kyle. I think we’ve got something that can win a race.” He’s too wired to drift off.

  I’m dozing half in and half out of sleep. The truth is not only is the car running like a dream, but from what we’ve seen today, it’s also running better than most of our competition. And that is how we will win. Having a good day when everyone else’s is worse. I don’t say any of this though. Instead, I tilt my hips so his head shifts, allowing my lips to connect with his chatty ones.

  His hand moves straight away to the source of some considerable heat between my legs, which his touch enflames.

  “That’s what you were after,” he mumbles into my open mouth as our tongues connect at the tips, working their way deeper as our excitement gathers force.

  I stiffen beneath his hand as his firm touch glides over me in rhythmic motions.

  Elliott

  I am aching with the buzz of the day, and I can’t just come back and drift off to sleep. Much as that’s the sensible thing to do as I lay there listening to Kyle’s shallow breathing.

  Nope. I’m wired.

  And I need to feel, to have my breath whisked away and my mind cleared from the turbulence our performance caused
in the pits today. Our competitors saw what we are capable of and much as I’d like to believe that tomorrow will be an easy ride through to pole position, we were overexcited to see what the car can do, and we showed our hand too soon. Our competitors will be working overnight to improve the tiniest of settings so that tomorrow our job will be all the harder again.

  We could be doing the same, but I don’t want to risk breaking anything by making changes that are not needed. The current set-up is such a dream.

  But, I’m wired. And I’m horny as fuck.

  And the way that Kyle sprang to life as soon as my fingers feathered over his cock, well, that’s asking for trouble. His eyes are closed and his face is relaxed in the way he gets when he’s content to relax and take whatever I’m offering.

  My hand continues to work slowly up and down his stiff shaft, but I shift my weight so that I’m kneeling between his legs, so that my other hand is free to cup down and stroke the silky skin between his thighs. He remains silent, but his balls hitch up, and my own already solid cock makes a little twitch of appreciation at his quiet desire.

  An ache blossoms in my chest. I need to feel him beneath me so I rest both hands on either side of his amazing sculpted chest and I lower myself onto him. I lightly nip over his five-o’-clock shadow as my breathing labors in tune with my darkening desire. He tilts his head, allowing me to nuzzle into the nape of his neck, and my kisses deepen until I’m sucking his soft flesh between my lips, kneading it with my tongue.

  His sleepy interactions switch up a notch, as a deep sigh escapes his throat and his hips piston up grazing his long, solid length against my full girth. I tense my butt against his unrelenting pressure, sending the ache careening around my body, releasing the frustration to fly free and cause chaos on my every sensitive nerve ending.

  As we ride against each other, I drop my head to rest on his chest, feeling his toned pecs flex as he presses down into the bed to drive into my tensed abs. My lips rest against his nipple, taking it into my mouth then teasing around it with my hot tongue, before sucking it between my swollen lips.