He let out a little laugh and stood in front of me. His dick was already hard and was trying to escape the confines of his black and yellow boxer briefs. “Yeah, you like?” I slid my hand into his boxers and curled my fingers around his cock.
“I like this, baby. Let me suck it for you—for your birthday.” I slid the head of his dick out of the waistband and licked the tip. It was already wet with his salty precum and the first thing I noticed was that he didn’t have his ring on. “Where’s your dick ring?” I asked as I circled my tongue around the fat head.
He ran his fingers through my hair and pulled my face up to look at him. “I took it off—I want to make love to you, Mollie, without having to think about hurting you. When it’s on, it’s cool and all, but I’m always afraid I’ll hurt you.” Just hearing those words, knowing that he thought about me, made my insides quiver.
“Mmmm…Jacks, you’re so yummy.” I sucked his cock into my mouth and slid his boxers down his long legs. He was perfect. The muscles in his legs were taut and his ass pooched out in a nice curve. His hands fisted my hair and I held his hips as he let me suck his cock down my throat. Tonight, if I was good enough to make him come, I’d be sure to swallow every last drop.
“Mol—” I felt his legs tremble. He pulled me away and pushed me back on the bed.
“Wha—?”
He smacked my hip playfully and said, “I want this—I want you,” and then I felt the tip of his dick at the entrance to my pussy. He slid his fingers inside my panties and I almost came when he traced his finger across my clit. “Fuck, Mols, you’re so wet. Fuck!” His fingertip flicked my clit and pulled my panties off in a hurried swoop. His dick was inside me and he started thrusting, “Fuck yeah, baby.” His hands held my shoulders as if he didn’t want me to get away, and he withdrew and then slid inside me again. I felt the real Jack—no ring, no condom, and for a split second, I felt recklessly irresponsible. Funny thing is—I didn’t care. I clamped my teeth down on his shoulder and rode the waves of a blissful orgasm.
He shuddered and groaned out a “Fuck! Mollie—Mollie, ahhh fuck!” I vowed to give him the best night of passion he’d ever had. It was his birthday, after all.
Chapter Six — Jack
“Fuck.” I rolled over, hatin’. I had to go see Jernigan this morning but my California King was really comfortable. I’d never had a bed like this—I’d never had a room like this, for that matter. And, Dixie was whipping my ass in the gym since we all had to stay in tip-top shape to race and be a part of Redemption Road. They said it was for better TV ratings, and she insisted I needed to keep the six-pack going. I think it was just for photo shoots, and Mollie seemed to like it, so I had no complaints except for the achy pain in my abs. “Fuuuck!”
I got ready and headed over to Jernigan’s office as he’d said he had something to show me and, apparently, it was really important. When I got there, he was sitting behind his desk. He was so short, he looked like a kid. That is—until he spoke. He had a booming voice that caught your attention—and kept it. He pulled out a letter from the top drawer and handed it to me.
“You’ve received another letter from Jeffrey Carter. He’s pretty insistent that he’d like to meet with you and, obviously, he seems anxious to talk about the past. My detective says that he’s the real deal—his name matches the name on your birth certificate and, according to his tax records, he was in Chicago when you were born. He’s got a few things on his arrest record, but they’re pretty old—kid stuff really. He’s been off the legal books for the past twenty years.”
I blinked at him, not sure how I should respond. “Chicago? This is bogus. I wasn’t born in Chicago—I’ve never even been to Chicago.”
“Yes, Jack, you have.” He handed me a piece of paper. I took it from him and looked at it. It was my birth certificate, and the name Jeffrey Carter was listed as my father. “I’ve never seen this. Are you sure it’s mine?”
“Yes, Jack, it’s yours. The detective did some digging around and this is your birth certificate and your last name is—or should be—Carter. Your mother took you when you were a little boy and left. Changed your name to hers and here we are.”
“So you’re telling me that this guy, Jeffrey Carter, is definitely my father?”
“Well, the only sure way of knowing is for you both to take a DNA test, and he says right here that he is more than willing to do that. If you’d like, I can arrange testing done immediately.”
I nodded and said, “Yeah, please do. I want to meet this punk ass who thinks he’s my father.”
“Do you want to meet him now, or would you like to wait until after the blood test?”
I knew the smart thing to do was to wait, but I couldn’t. I’d been waiting for years to meet the asshole who’d left me with Nellie. I had a lot to say to him, and none of it was any good. It had been so easy to blame him for everything—how much Nellie drank, how often she drank, how bad my life was. I knew she made her own choices, but I still wanted to make him accountable for the past. The dickhead wasn’t about to get off scot-free—not while I was alive. I had visions of beating his ass in the parking lot and leaving him for dead, but I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do, so I decided a face-to-face, somewhere public, would be a better option.
“Naw, call him. Have him meet me at the diner on Broadview around six tomorrow evening. If he can’t do that—then he’s shit out of luck.”
Jernigan nodded and said, “I’ll call him now, but you don’t have to stick around. I’ll text you his answer. What time is your party? Oh, and by the way, happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” I shook my head in disbelief. “The party is in about an hour and I can’t believe this shit.”
“Will Miss DuBois be attending?”
“No. She wanted to, but I have a date with her tonight and I’d really like to keep her away from all the—” I put my fingers up in air quotes, “‘Redemption Road’ drama.”
“I understand. I can tell Mr. Carter to leave you alone or have him arrested for harassment. Your call.”
“No, no, no, I want to meet this scumbag.” I let out a long sigh. I had a party to go to and I was staying with Mollie afterwards. I didn’t need this shit on top of it. “Mr. Jernigan?”
“Yes, son?”
“In case I haven’t told you lately, I want to say thank you. You’ve done more for me than anyone else on the planet—well, except for Mollie.”
“It’s been my pleasure, son. You’ve come a long way, Jack. Keep up the good work.”
I got up, my Redemption Road hat in my hand. “Thanks again.” Then I left the office and walked out to my car. This wasn’t my race car, Angel—that was protected property now. Stockton had given all the drivers a lease car to drive around and mine was a 2015 sleek, white Dodge Challenger. It was sexy and, of course, it was all decked out with the SCAT pack. With five hundred horses under the hood, I’d love to take it on the highway and blow it wide open, but I had to be good—responsible.
I sat in the driver’s seat and looked at myself in the mirror. “You ain’t no Jack Carter,” I said to the person looking back at me. “The name’s Fitz. Jackson Fitzgerald, dickhead.” If I was going to meet this man, it would be on my terms. I pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the house.
I dreaded the rest of the day—I was convinced it would drag by, but it didn’t. The excitement of seeing Mollie later that night made up for my worry about meeting Jeffrey Carter. I thought about her as I raced around the track again and again. Dixie yelled at me a few times and told me to “snap out of it”, but everything felt pretty surreal. I finally confessed to her what was happening, and she said she understood, but there was no way she was going to cancel practice. We continued our track sprints, but she didn’t yell as much anymore. I liked Dixie. She was as tough as nails, even though she was attractive, petite, and kind of a celebrity.
I thought about the four of us lucky sons-of-bitches who’d made it into Redemption Road. Despite wha
t some might have thought, all of the drivers had a different story to tell. We weren’t all poor kids, or all drug addicts, or even all convicts—although I was all of those. Wyatt, a mixed-race dude, had been given up for adoption, then given back to state custody, and he’d spent his teenage years living in foster care. He’d been in trouble as a teen, but most of his issues seemed emotional—unless the RR crew wasn’t telling us the whole story.
Colton was the rich kid who’d been given everything—yet appreciated nothing. He’d gotten a girl pregnant, but after she’d had the baby, they broke up and two months later, she committed suicide. He carried a lot of guilt about that. At least that’s what he told the camera. Gambling had been a way to cope for him. He’d spent his entire trust fund at casinos around the country and had to give custody of his son to his parents.
Randall didn’t talk much, so it was hard to know what that guy was thinking most of the time. I didn’t know his story, but there was a rumor going around the house that he’d done a hitch in the pen because of a bar room brawl that ended up with a dead guy.
That was all of us—four losers that had been given the opportunity to change their lives and win a prize. And I was determined to win—not just for me, but for all the fucked up kids in my community. The Village needed a hero and I wanted to be the one to bring some awareness to the poor side of town.
Randall’s family arrived and they weren’t what I’d expected at all. Randall had a beautiful wife and two little kids and although the kids were great, I could tell there was some tension between him and his wife. So much tension that when he left the room to show the kids the garage and his new car, she practically pounced on me and grabbed my crotch.
“You’re number twenty-seven, aren’t you, Jack? Guess how old I am? That must be a sign, right?”
“Uhm, sure. If you say so.” Colton and Wyatt had already left the room to tour the garage with the kids, and Randall’s wife scooted a little closer to me.
“I think you’re going to win this. I’d bet money on it.” Doesn’t she know the camera is still rolling?
I laughed nervously, “I’m sure your husband wouldn’t be too happy to hear that.” She drew back for a second, batted her eyelids and slung her long, silky, red hair over her shoulder.
“Who cares? I stopped telling him what he wanted to hear a long time ago. You know what I want to hear? I want to hear you say my name. It’s Regina, by the way.” She extended her slender hand to me and I shook it like it was a dead fish.
“Listen, Regina, it’s been great talking to you but I think I’m going to—” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mike’s hands moving and he was giving me the “keep going” sign. I knew I wasn’t supposed to acknowledge that he was there, but I stared at him like, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No, don’t leave yet. Tell me about Jack Fitzgerald. Do you have a wife or a girlfriend?”
I ran my hand through my hair—this chick was whack—and I looked over at her in disbelief. “Yeah, I got a girl, and it ain’t you.” I stood up and I didn’t care what the cameraman was doing—I wasn’t about to talk to this chick.
“Hey, Fitzgerald, phone call for you. It’s Dixie,” Carlton said.
I tried not to breathe a sigh of relief in front of her, but I’m afraid I probably did. “Saved by the bell!”
I stepped out of the room and went to the small office at the end of the house and closed the door. Apart from the bathroom, this was the only place where filming was banned. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the chance to race for Stockton, but I was less and less crazy about the drama of the reality TV circus that surrounded Redemption Road. And what was Mike’s problem? I’m not about to get caught fooling around with some chick. No fucking way!
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jack. It’s Dixie. A couple of things—first, I’m sorry if I was hard on you today, but you’ve got to learn to focus on the job, no matter what happens. Unexpected crap happens all the time in racing and you have to handle it like a pro.”
“Yeah, Dixie, you’re right. Thanks.”
“I’ve been looking at the tape and your last run was definitely your best. Then I compared that to last week’s tapes and guess what? Again, your last run was the best. What’s up with you and last runs? Most drivers have their best rides somewhere in the middle, but as far as time and technique go, your last ones were the best. We’ve got to come up with a way to replicate that.”
“Okay, what’s really going on, Dixie? You could have told me all of this tomorrow.” Dixie liked directness and I liked that about her, too.
“Saw through that, huh? A few things, actually. First, I want to wish you a happy birthday. I know you’re out tonight, and that’s all fine and good, but don’t fuck anything up. And good luck on your dinner meeting with your dad tomorrow. I’d like you to take the day off from the track. You won’t be focused and I don’t want to waste my time.”
“Are you sure? I’m okay, really.”
“No arguments. Second, I got a peek at your schedule for the next few days and I don’t like what I see. Do me and yourself a favor—stay out of trouble. I don’t care what the film crew tells you, what anyone tells you, stay out of trouble. Give them what they want, be honest, but don’t fuck anything up, okay?”
I had to laugh. “Funny you should say that. You’ll never believe what just happened.”
“Yeah, I’d believe it. I know the other coaches, and they are all a bunch of douche bags. Keep your nose clean and enjoy your birthday. I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Thanks, Dix, I’ll keep it clean.” I had to smile. She was like a mother giving a pep talk to her kid.
“Keep your head down, be honest and toss the camera crew some crumbs, but don’t fall for any of their shit. You are going to win this, Jackson Fitzgerald. You have a ton of talent and the best coach—together we can do this.” Her voice sounded like soft steel and I knew she believed it. She was Giant Trammel’s daughter, after all. “And lastly, keep your mouth shut. Don’t tell those other guys anything. You have to let them work it out themselves. Remember, this is a race in more ways than one. You can’t afford to make friends.” I thought about Colton. He’d be the only one I’d be tempted to help, not that he really needed it.
“All right, agreed—and thanks for giving me a heads-up.”
“You’re welcome, and you can thank me by winning.” Then she hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
I walked out of the office feeling better and, again, thanked whatever lucky stars were watching over me. Everyone knew that today was my birthday and they all seemed like they were more excited about it than I was—I didn’t do birthdays. It was just another day in my book, but to Redemption Road, it was a big deal and I figured I might as well milk it for all it was worth. The producers had given me a cake, there were balloons all over the place, music, some light beer, and ice cream, the whole enchilada, and they really made a big to-do about it on camera. I guessed we’d get better ratings if the public thought that the Road treated us well—which they did, and I had no complaints about it. All I could do was wait until I could get out of there and do some real celebrating tonight with Mollie.
They’d told me that once the party was over, I could leave the Road house and stay the night with Mollie—no cameras, no curfew, no rules— just me and her. Now, to me, that was the big deal—much bigger than all the cake and party hats in the world. Being alone with my girl for the night was going to be incredible. Mmm…I can smell her sweet scent now. I hung out for about an hour, said thanks to the guys and excused myself to go and shower. I was ready to leave all the madness behind for a little while and go see the most beautiful girl in the world.
I stepped into the steamy shower and lathered up my body. Every time I thought about Mollie, it made my dick hard and I soaped it up and stroked it inside my fist. I put my hand on the tile wall in front of me to steady myself and stroked a little faster. I didn’t jack off very often, but t
onight was a special occasion and I was so fuckin’ hard for her, I thought I’d rub one out before I got there. My dick ring shone brightly through the suds and I pictured her, naked—her perky tits and her wet, pink pussy. Mmmm…I found my rhythm and it didn’t take long before my ass tightened and the jizz seeped down my nuts. I groaned into the water. “Fuck…” It had been a while since the jizz had shot out of the head like a normal orgasm. This ring had to go.
I remembered the night we’d made love in the bathtub and when I got home that night, I’d searched Google for information about Prince Albert piercings and sex, and although I really hadn’t cared about the girls before, I cared about Mollie—a lot. She was too soft and tender for this metal to be pounding inside her and, as I caught my breath, I stroked my dick again—only this time, I washed it, then I carefully removed the ring and tossed it into the bathroom trash. I chuckled when I thought about the fact that I could be pissing out of two holes—I’d have to be careful for a while—or buy some band-aids—that might work. That part of my life was over now. I rinsed off again and turned off the water. I didn’t know why I was so nervous, but I was. Maybe because I still felt like she was too good for me, too beautiful, too smart. I didn’t know what it was, but I had to man the fuck up and get my ass over there.
Chapter Seven — Mollie
It felt weird waking up next to Jack. I’d slept alone for so long and having his hard body lying next to me felt incredible. “What time do you have to go?” I asked, and hoped he’d say he could stay for a while longer.
He rolled over to look at me. His hair was a mess but he still looked adorable. “Good morning, beautiful.” He smiled that crooked little half-smile and my heart melted. I felt like I was falling in love with him all over again.
“Good morning, handsome.” He moved his face in to kiss me. His fingertips traced up my back as he curled his arm around my body and pulled me closer to him. I felt his hardness between us and my heart jumped as I was gently reminded of the hot sex from the night before. He rose up, spread my legs with his knee and smiled. I gazed into his eyes and willingly obliged by spreading my knees farther apart. My legs trembled as he held his dick in his hand and ran it slowly up and down my pussy lips.
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