by Nicole Dykes
And he’s back to angry. I shake my head. “No.”
“Fix it Alex. I don’t really care if you two find a way to be together or not, but you have to find a way to be around each other without tearing each other a part.”
I know he’s right, but before I can say that, he’s gone. He stalked off toward the bar and I see Chris making his way over to me. Shit. What am I going to tell him?
He sits down in a chair next to me with a look of honest concern on his face, “Alex, are you okay?”
I shake my head and look into his kind eyes. “No.”
He puts a comforting hand on my knee. “What’s wrong?”
“I haven’t been totally honest with you.”
The hand on my knee pulls away and moves to the back of his neck. He’s hesitant when he says calmly, “Okay. About what?”
“Shriller and I. We sort of did have a thing or something, when you and I first met.”
He’s letting that sink in. “Uh, okay. What kind of thing?”
“It was just sex. He was staying with me and it just happened, and then it just kept happening.”
He nods his head listening intently. “So, what made you stop?” A look of worry spreads on his face, “Or are you still sleeping with him?”
I shake my head vigorously. “No. God no. It stopped right after the Fourth of July.” I sigh, “He told me he thought he was in love with me.”
Chris's eyes are filled with surprise. “Wow so it was a lot more serious than you originally let on.”
“No. I mean I don’t know. Shit.” I cover my face with both hands in pure frustration.
I feel his large hands grip mine and gently pull them down. He’s still holding onto them when he says, “Alex, don’t hide from me. What happened after that?”
I bite my bottom lip, feeling anxious about how he is going to handle all of this. “I’m sorry. I told him that we weren’t in love.”
“So, you didn’t love him?”
I don’t want to lie to him, but I don’t want to scare him off. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
His eyes search mine and he sighs in frustration, “So why did you lie about it?”
“Because I don’t know how I feel about it all,” I answer honestly and feel tears stinging my eyes. Shit. I never was a crier until this year. I try to joke, “I told you I’m fucked-up.”
He lets go of my hands, but I’m pleasantly surprised when he places a strong arm around my shoulder. “And I told you, we are all a little fucked-up.”
I lean my head on him and say, “I don’t think you are.”
“Of course I am Alex, why do you think I hate being lied to so fucking much? I demand honesty in my life because I’ve been burned and scarred before.”
I turn my head to look into his eyes and I want to ask more about that, but I’m guessing now really isn’t the time. “I’m so sorry,” I respond, certain he’s finished with me.
“Look, I get it. I really do. You have some unfinished business and believe me, I know exactly what that’s like. You need to figure out what you want.”
I pop up from my position on his shoulder. “I really care about you, Chris. I want you.”
He grins with a sexy confidence that attracted me to him in the first place. “I want you too, but I can’t wonder if you’re only with me because you two never really talked shit out.”
“Shriller and I aren’t capable of talking.”
“You need to try.”
I grab his hand that is resting on the table and hold it in mine. “I’m over it and that’s not why I’m with you. I’m with you because I really like you.”
He smiles sadly at me and pulls his hand out from under mine. “He’s the reason you wanted to take it slow. I thought it was because of your ex-fiancé, but it’s him, isn’t it?”
I don’t want to admit it, so I don’t say anything.
His head nods knowingly. He runs a hand over his face in frustration and then looks into my eyes. “I think we need to give each other some space. Let you talk to him and figure this out.”
I close my eyes, sadness about fucking this up is overwhelming me.
I feel his hand on my cheek in a calming gesture. “Alex.”
I open my eyes slowly, “Are you ending this?”
He cups my cheek gently in his rough hand. “There isn’t really anything to end.” Ouch. I drop my head and he uses his other to top my chin back up. “But I sure as hell want there to be. I just can’t always be wondering if you really want to be with him.”
I shake my head. “I don’t.”
He smiles and brings his lips to my forehead, leaving a soft kiss there. “Just take some time and make sure.”
After that he stands up and leaves the glamorous ballroom.
How the hell am I going to fix this mess?
Chapter 18
Shriller
A
fter my fight with Alex I went back to my hotel and thought seriously about trying to go back to L.A. tonight, but then came to my senses and realized that would be impossible at almost midnight on New Year’s Eve. So, I settled for having room service bring up a nice bottle of scotch, stripped out of the tux and into a pair of sweats, and now I’m just trying to relax on the sofa in the suite.
This is eerily familiar and reminds me of the night of Billy’s funeral. I take a drink of scotch and try to keep that memory away.
I’m momentarily startled by a knock at the door and wonder who the hell it could be. If it’s Jax, Charlotte is going to kill me for taking away her midnight kiss.
I reluctantly stand and open the door to my hotel room, just enough to see Alex. I’m in total shock when I see her standing there. She has her coat on over her dress and is holding my tuxedo jacket in her hands. “You forgot this,” she says as she holds up the jacket.
I take it out of her hands. “Thanks.”
I’m about to close the door, but she stops it with her foot. “Can we talk?” she asks nervously.
“I think we’ve probably talked enough.”
Her eyes are pleading with me when she says, softly, “Please?”
Fuck. Alex rarely says please. Her demeanor has completely changed since the party. I sigh, frustrated and against my better judgement I open the door to let her in.
She walks in, looking around and her eyes land on the scotch on the coffee table. She looks over at me over her shoulder. “This looks familiar.”
I grin, thinking about the night of Billy’s funeral when Alex came to my room. That was pre-hookup, not that I didn’t try. “Yeah, I guess I’m predictable.”
She slides her coat off her shoulders, revealing that sexy black dress and all that skin. She lays it on the back of the chair and then takes a seat on the couch.
This won’t end well, but I need to know what she is doing here. I grab the other glass brought by room service and take a seat next to her. I grab the bottle, unscrew the cap and pour some in the glass before handing it to her.
Neither one of us have said one word.
She takes a small drink and then looks over at me. “I’m really sorry for some of the things I said.”
I reach for my own drink and stare at her blankly. “You’re apologizing?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Don't be a dick. This isn’t easy for me.”
“I’m not trying to be. I’m just surprised.”
She takes another, much bigger drink, before setting the glass on the table and moving a little closer to me. “I shouldn’t have said you are broken. I’m just so pissed at you.”
“For what, though? I don’t get it, Alex. You didn’t want me, so I left.”
“For almost six fucking months! Ignoring everyone. I know that Brooke, Jax, and Dylan all left voicemails. You never called back. Several people sent texts. Nothing. How could you do that?”
I think back to every missed call. I listened to every single voicemail, mostly to make sure there wasn’t an emergency. I read every text for the same
reason, but every time I tried to call back or answer them, I stopped myself because of her. They reminded me of Alex and I was trying my damnedest to forget. Not my proudest moments.
Somehow, I don’t think Alex will understand. “I had to,” I say, offering the simplest answer I can.
She raises her right hand in a pissed off motion. “You had to? Just had to ignore the people you care about most. You just went on with your life like nothing happened and let us all suffer.”
I take another big drink of scotch and laugh, bitterly. “Went on with my life, huh?”
She’s getting more and more angry and so am I. I knew this was a shitty idea.
“Yeah, back to being Shriller the Thriller in L.A. Doing whatever and whoever you want.”
“Fuck you sure do a hell of a lot of assuming, Alex. You have no fucking clue what I’ve been going through these last six months!”
“You’re right, I don’t!” she nearly screams at me and places her glass on the table. Then turns back to me and adds, “You know why? Because you fucking left!”
I groan, “Jesus Christ, you need a new thing to throw at me. That one is getting fucking old! And I didn’t go right back to being Shriller the Thriller because I can’t talk myself into going near a track or a fucking bike!”
I’ve always been calm and easygoing since I can remember, but fuck if she doesn’t rile me up and put me on edge. I stand up and walk over to the bar that separates the kitchenette area from the living room, trying to calm the fuck down.
She walks over cautiously and stands in front of me in a guarded pose. “You haven’t gone back to racing?”
“No.”
“Why?” her eyes tip downward, “Because of your knee? Did you have to have another surgery?”
The genuine concern in her voice brings me back to how she was there for me for the first few months after my wreck. My brain is screaming at me that it’s a trap though, and she’s just gonna snap, so I remain cold. “My knee is fine. It’s my brain that’s fucked. Maybe my balls too.”
Still, after everything we’ve been through, I can’t believe that she’s still the only one I’ve told about this. My own manager doesn't know.
“Oh,” she says and looks surprised. Then, brushes it off in a way only Alex can. “Well that’s nothing. Easy fix, just quit being a pussy.”
A laugh escapes my mouth when she says that and then she laughs too. “Thanks Alex, I didn’t think of that.”
She takes a step closer to me and laughs again.
I swear, that sound is fucking beautiful.
I take my own step closer to her and she says, “Look you’re respected in the racing community because you never show fear. Just don’t think.” Her turn, she steps forward again leaving us toe to toe. “That’s one of your talents. You don’t overthink, you just do.”
Our faces are close. Our bodies are even closer. I smirk at her, “We still talking about racing?”
Please say no.
Chapter 19
Alex
O
h shit. I should step back. Give myself some space, but I don’t. There is something about this man for me. Something nearly addicting, no matter how much pain we bring each other.
Subtly, as if stuck in slow motion, I shake my head no. I’m not talking about racing anymore. I couldn’t care less about racing or his career, or anything in this moment other than feeling his lips on mine again.
I don’t have to wait anymore because his hands grab the sides of my face and pull me to him. His full lips connect with mine and I’m done. No chance of making a smart decision for this girl tonight.
My hands grip his waist as his cup my face in an intense hold that says neither of us wants to let go. We explore each other’s mouths in a mind numbing, body aching kiss.
His palms slowly drop from my cheeks, but his mouth doesn't let go of mine. I feel his strong hands grip my ass and my arms go instinctively around his neck as he lifts me up. My legs wrap around him, pulling my dress up over my thighs as he carries me into the bedroom of the suite.
I love how he takes charge in the bedroom.
When we are standing in front of the king-sized bed, he lets go of my ass. I let my legs drop and slide down to stand in front of him. We both pull back and look into each other’s eyes, both panting, both daring the other to back out.
I crack a small smile and he smirks back before reaching behind my back and slowly unzipping my dress. Neither of us is going anywhere.
The dress falls down and pools at my feet, leaving me in a strapless bra and matching thong.
Shriller takes a half a step back, his eyes scanning my body in a way that makes me feel like the sexiest woman in the world and says, “Fuck.”
I grin and then step toward him, wrapping my right hand around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.
His body guides mine to the bed and I slide down onto it, taking him with me. He’s holding most of his weight with his hands next to my head as he kisses down my neck. I close my eyes and enjoy that feeling and I feel his lips near my ear as his husky deep voice says, “The reason I don’t talk about my parents is because I don’t know anything about them.”
He nips at my earlobe, and I wonder why the hell he’s talking about his parents right now. I don’t say anything as his lips takeover mine again. His tongue wrestles with mine and his teeth graze my lips as he pulls back.
His mouth makes its descent lower, down my jaw to my neck as he continues to talk. “They literally dropped me off at a crowded bus station in downtown Kansas City when I was two. Walked right up to a woman they never met, put my hand in hers, and bailed.”
My eyes open, but I can’t see his. He’s busy making his way down, licking the bare skin of my collarbone with his very talented tongue, sending shivers throughout my body. I manage to finally get out a, “That’s terrible.”
His right hand reaches underneath my back as his nimble fingers unhook the clasp on my bra and he removes it effortlessly, tossing it to the floor.
His eyes briefly connect with mine and he shrugs, as his mouth closes over my left nipple and a soft moan escapes my mouth. He swirls his tongue and then grazes my hardened nipple with his teeth to add just a little dose of pain to my pleasure.
He moves to the right side, repeating his previous actions. I bite my lip and close my eyes again as he says, “My sweet grandma, didn’t even know what happened until I was ten. Then she spent a few months getting the runaround and trying to track me down in the foster care system.” I shudder as I feel his mouth move lower, alternating between nipping, kissing, and licking every inch of my skin. Paying special attention to the areas with ink over them. When he reaches my thong, he pauses and I open my eyes and look down at him, situated between my legs.
“By that time, she was in bad health and I was a disrespectful little shit. She visited as much as she could though.”
I realize what he’s doing now. He’s letting me in.
I lift my ass as he uses both of his hands to peel the underwear off my body, leaving me one hundred percent bare for him. He gently blows a breath of air over my exposed pussy, sending a shiver through my body.
I arch my back involuntarily and moan, “Don’t tease me.”
I see him smirk as he growls, “You fucking love to be teased.”
He kisses my hip bone, his hands grip both sides of my open thighs and finally, his tongue is where I need him the most. Exploring my slit until he finds the bundle of nerves that makes me fist the sheets at my sides.
He knows my body better than anyone, and it doesn't take him long to bring me close to coming. But then he suddenly stops. I groan at the loss and look down at him, “Why did you stop?”
He grins devilishly up at me. “Admit that you were jealous tonight. When Vanessa kissed me.”
He can’t be serious. “No way, asshole.”
His shoulders shrug and he places a kiss on my inner right thigh. “That’s too bad you can’t just tell me the
truth.” His lips graze the inside of my left thigh, and my head falls back. My body is revolting against my pride, screaming for release.
“Fuck you, Shriller,” I say, without an ounce of force behind it.
“That’s the plan sweetheart.” He places another kiss over my swollen clit, but doesn’t move. “Just say it.”
Fuck he’s right, I do love to be teased and he knows it. “Fine. I was jealous, okay? Now let me come.” My voice is a harsh whine.
I nearly whimper as he finally uses his tongue to bring me to an explosive orgasm that has me gripping his hair in one hand and holding onto the sheets with the other.
“Asshole,” I pant out.
He simply laughs, leaving the bed for a second to walk to his suitcase to grab a condom before rejoining me. He takes his time making his way back up so we are face to face. I can feel his hard cock pressing against my stomach through his sweats and all I want is to feel that feeling of him being inside of me again.
I've yet to feel anything like it.
I start to tug his sweats down, but he uses one hand to stop me. I look up at him for an answer, and he leans down to kiss me again. I embrace the kiss, pulling him to me by the back of his head.
He lifts his head slowly and looks down at me. “When I was thirteen, I was well on my way to being thrown in juvie. I was pissing off every foster parent I had. Staying out late, drinking, doing drugs, vandalizing shit. My grandma saw it and had me talk to her neighbor, the man you guys bought my old car back from. He taught me to race on the weekends.”
I look up with him with genuine surprise. “He didn’t tell us that.”
Shriller grins as he coolly slips off his sweats, sliding the condom on securely, “He wouldn’t. He didn’t want to take credit for my success, even though I owed it to him and Grams. They got me on the right path.”
I feel his cock lined up at my entrance and spread my legs wider. Ready and practically begging for him to be inside of me.
