Dangerous Curves

by Larkin Rose

  “Do it,” Lacy said.

  A mocking smile creased Sellars’s mouth.

  Fuck.

  She tugged her wrists free and fisted her fingers into Sellars’s hair then pulled her back down, giving in to the guttural desire. That desperate, pulsing ache.

  Sellars drove against her and Lacy cried out.

  She needed Sellers. Needed her fingers buried deep. Needed release so bad it made her throb to the very core.

  Lacy withered, desperate for Sellars’s to finish her, for Sellars to pull incoherent babbling from her mouth.

  Sellars pulled back and Lacy immediately missed the passion of those lips. She ripped open the rivet on Lacy’s jeans and tugged the zipper down.

  “Yes. Hurry! Before I come to my senses.”

  “You won’t.” Without stalling, she lifted Lacy’s hips off the hood and jerked the denim down her legs.

  She slowed her hurried need long enough for Lacy to kick off her ankle boots before ripping the denim down over her feet. She tossed the jeans to the ground and looked back to Lacy for confirmation.

  Lacy wanted to scream hell yes. And please.

  In those eyes, she saw something else. Pure lust. Her lips parted. Her chest heaving. Lacy wasn’t sure the last time she’d seen passion so thick, so vibrant and at surface level.

  But there it was resting on the face of someone who detested her. Someone who was only here because she had no other choice if she wanted her career back. Someone who would be gone, out of her life, very soon.

  “Don’t you dare fucking stop now!” Lacy barked.

  Sellars dropped off the car, pulled Lacy to the edge of the hood, shoved her legs apart, and clamped her mouth around Lacy’s clit.

  Lacy cried out as Sellars nursed. Her hips surged upward as Sellars sucked harder, flicking her tongue, jerking Lacy toward that sexual abyss.

  She clutched at Sellars’s hair, her insides tight, that little voice all but silent now as the tingling sensations overcame her.

  Sellars pinned her legs apart and hummed, grinding her mouth against her pussy.

  Lacy came in a blinding fury of spasms. She arched against the hood as Sellars continued to suck and flick, wrapping her strong arms around Lacy’s legs, holding her in place, until Lacy fell back with a dramatic sigh, her insides still twitching, her body depleted.

  Finally, Sellars loosened her hold and stood between Lacy’s parted thighs, her palms wide as they caressed Lacy’s hips. “If I had known fucking you would make you silent, I would have done it in the jailhouse parking lot.”

  Lacy opened her eyes and rose on her elbows. “You call that fucking?”

  That smile creased Sellars’s lips again, and Lacy resisted a squirm. “Not at all.” She teased her opening with the tips of two fingers, and Lacy held her breath for entry. “I call this fucking.” She drove inside.

  Sellars’s insides clenched as Lacy threw her head back with a hiss. She pulled out to the knuckles and drove inside again, eager to keep Lacy in this state of mind where her tongue wasn’t sharp and her eyes didn’t despise her.

  She hated that the most. Lacy’s hatred floating on the surface at all times. Lacy didn’t know her. Didn’t know her secrets. Didn’t know her past. Didn’t know what she was made of or what she had accomplished. What she had yet to accomplish.

  Yet right now, with those cries of passion, her lips silenced and those eyes closed, Sellars felt at peace. No memories to haunt her. No burdens weighing on her shoulders.

  Nothing. Not a single thing mattered.

  Lacy met every stroke, her hips driving down, swallowing Sellars.

  Sellars fucked her harder, driving into her, against her, until Lacy tugged her down.

  She locked her legs and arms around Sellars, her pussy clenching her fingers, and then she arched and screamed out again, bucking beneath Sellars’s weight.

  Sellars held her until she went limp in her grasp, an overwhelming sense of peace surrounding her. Birds chirped in the distance. The stream trickled beyond the trees. The wind was a gentle breeze.

  Yet a tornado was beneath her, coming around her fingers, and it made her ache for the peace she would never have again.

  “Don’t say a fucking word, Sellars.” Lacy attempted to bark, but the sound came out as a mumbled, no punch command.

  There were no words she could say. Not out loud, anyway.

  She admired Lacy’s beautiful face, her gaze to the sky, indecision in her expression, and she wondered how many people had ever said those words to her. How many of those had only said it in the throes of passion. How many had wanted to say it forever.

  Did Lacy want someone to say it forever? Had she ever met someone she wanted to spend eternity with?

  Sellars had. Inside, she craved that calm life that someone had once promised to her. The life Sarah promised to her.

  And there she was again. Sarah. Squeezing through her thoughts. As always.

  Lacy turned those pretty eyes her way and Sellars suddenly felt insecure. Lacy knew her secret. Knew about Sarah. Maybe she didn’t know the facts, the how, the why, or the when, but she knew enough.

  Sellars didn’t know what to say, if anything. Didn’t know what to do, if anything.

  And then she saw it. The mistake written in Lacy’s eyes. In her silence. They had crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. Deep down, she knew these few moments with Lacy, were the only ones she might get.

  She slid off the hood so she wouldn’t have to see that puzzled expression another second.

  Lacy sat up, grabbed Sellars’s wrist, and pulled her close. She slid her hand down the length of Sellars, only stalling long enough to pop the button of her jeans and slide the zipper down, then she pushed her hand down inside.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” Lacy whispered.

  Sellars hummed as Lacy caressed her clit, dipping farther to tease her opening for several seconds, sliding easily through her wetness, before moving back to the spot, exactly where Sellars needed her to be.

  For just a minute, she wanted Lacy to take her away from that haunting memory. The very one that darkened her mood far too often.

  Lacy massaged in lazy circles and Sellars arched over her.

  Her eyes fluttered shut.

  “Look at me!” Lacy said while she flicked faster.

  Sellars opened her eyes to find Lacy staring at her. Pain and lust flickered in the depths of her eyes and she wondered if her own eyes mirrored the same thing.

  “Just you and me, sexy.” Lacy pressed her lips against Sellars’s chest and inhaled. “No one else allowed.”

  Sellars stared down over her for several seconds, searching for malice, waiting for sarcasm, slowly circling her hips. When she found none, she palmed Lacy’s face and pressed their lips together again.

  She groaned against Lacy’s mouth, grinding her hips in circles, until her orgasm ripped through her.

  Lacy drove inside her, fisted her fingers into Sellars’s hair, and swallowed her cries of release.

  Chapter Eleven

  Days had passed since Lacy cried out to an audience of pine trees with Sellars’s face buried between her thighs.

  Actually, she’d gone to great lengths to avoid her by burying herself in the so-called resurrection of Sellars’s racing career. By spreading Sellars’s pictures to several outlets of social media.

  It had taken her a full day just to muster the courage to filter through the pictures she’d taken over the course of the last several days. Then more hours to bring her heart rate back down to a speed that wouldn’t push her into cardiac arrest after going through the first lot of photos.

  She repeated the process all day, alternating between posting and breathing.

  Hot. Sellars was so fucking hot. And the pictures of her half-naked, shooting a bird at the world, her lips snarled back and angry, only fueled her sexual cravings.

  Fuck. Too fucking hot.

  After that, after having to choose which hot mess she needed to wing
into cyberspace, she didn’t have a choice but to dodge Sellars. She had to avoid that scent. Had to steer clear of the sight of her.

  She was too weak not to.

  If only she could stay out of her own head, like Sellars seemed to stay, where the most heated scenes appeared on their own accord. Out of the blue. Knotting her stomach.

  Oh, how she wanted to do it all over again. This time, not with a cold hood beneath her. This time, without Sellars slipping away, without Lacy having to reel her back in.

  Right now, she didn’t trust herself not to repeat that mistake. Yes. It was a mistake. They had crossed a line and they couldn’t go back. She knew the tension was going to be undeniable.

  So, to avoid the walk of shame, she’d buried herself in social media, news feeds, spreading Sellars’s “fuck you” pictures far and wide. From the feedback she was reading, they were working. People were loving how she was being herself, how she was telling everyone to kiss her ass with a single picture. Sure, there were still some hardcore haters, but she was starting to see some softness to a lot of the responses. Several threads had already begun to defend her, and Lacy couldn’t help but smile.

  Maybe she was going to pull this off after all. She had to. So many helpless people, homeless people, were depending on her to keep Sellars out of trouble so she could bring light to their world.

  That alone left her full of excitement and eager to push forward, to take the next step with her head clear, full of positive thoughts, and the whip held tight in her grasp.

  And that next step was soon. Like, in just a few hours. Sellars had a radio interview. She would be harassed and grilled by the haters and the lovers. Or so Lacy hoped there would be lovers.

  Just one little break. That’s all she needed. A window. A tiny opening in her otherwise doomed career. If she could just get that, Lacy was positive she could sail this ship all the way to the green flag where she’d drop Sellars off and be on her merry way.

  With a sigh, she glanced back at the laptop. Sellars’s photos were still open, dominating the screen with that angry glare.

  Again, she wondered what dirty secrets rested inside that mind of hers. What had happened to the girlfriend? Did it matter? Days ago, it didn’t. Now, a tiny part of her wanted to know.

  She knew, whatever those secrets were, they were a direct link to her self-induced career suicide.

  An hour later, she hesitantly stepped through the man cave door and found Sellars perched on a stool at the kitchen counter.

  Goddamn. This was going to be a long day.

  Sellars turned to look at her as she stepped through the basement door, and Lacy had a brief impulse to run back down the stairs.

  She hadn’t seen her face in two days. Had been hiding in that damn man cave to avoid this very reunion.

  “You’re alive!” Sellars leaned over the counter and set her empty cup in the sink. “I was beginning to wonder if your rotting corpse was going to stink up the house. Gabby would have had to use your swear jar cash for incense and aerosol sprays.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. Gabby’s college fund is safe and sound.” Lacy continued across the room and headed for the front door, determined not to get too close to Sellars. She couldn’t smell her. And for God’s sake, she couldn’t look at those eyes. “And social media is buzzing over your pictures. You may have a future after all despite your need to set it on fire. I know that disappoints you, too. Meet you in the car.” She slipped out the front door without a glance and inhaled the fresh air, safe from her own dirty desires.

  Sellars stared after her, wondering if Lacy had been avoiding her for a specific reason. A specific sexual reason. Did she regret their time together? Did she regret being weak? Being weak with Sellars?

  There were a lot of things in her life she regretted, but sex with Lacy wasn’t one of them and it made her uneasy to think that Lacy did.

  And she was right. It was true. She’d sabotaged her own career. Why? Because she couldn’t undo a past? Because she couldn’t bring Sarah back? Because she was still pissed at her grandfather for buying her out of a deadly mistake?

  For the first time in years, thoughts of Sarah hadn’t plagued her all night. For the first time in years, her conscious was full of someone else.

  They were now full of Lacy. She hated that. Because Lacy hated her. But it was peaceful to have freedom from herself. From her own hatred. From her regrets and guilt.

  She had Lacy to thank for that even if she had just bee-lined past her without so much as a glance.

  Self-medication. Isn’t that what Lacy had said before?

  Is that what Sellars was doing now? Feeding her guilt? Keeping it in motion? Keeping Sarah’s memories alive in the process?

  Was that such a bad thing, if so? To have feelings? To miss Sarah so bad it made her crazy? To have regrets eat her alive from the inside out?

  No. It wasn’t.

  Forty-five minutes and a very quiet drive later, Lacy stood outside the glass enclosure at the radio station and watched Sellars prepare for her radio interview. A woman fitted headphones on her while the radio host shuffled papers into order.

  Lacy couldn’t sit on the surrounding couches, too anxious for the questions from the callers to begin for Sellars. Most would be hostile. But hopefully, some wouldn’t be. She needed Sellars to find some kind of confidence in herself. Some shred of proof that there were people out there who still liked her. Who wanted her on that track. Who didn’t care if she was a bad girl with a need for speed.

  They hadn’t spoken a word on the drive over. All was eerily quiet while their little sexual secret lay wedged between them.

  Even right now, with a thick pane of glass separating them, with Sellars just on the other side, it felt like she was worlds away. Out of reach.

  But Lacy was a big girl wearing big girl panties. So was Sellars, as a matter of fact. They would continue this little business trip as if nothing ever happened.

  The interview began.

  Lacy listened through the speakers set in each corner of the room.

  The “On Air” sign started blinking above the door.

  “We have a special guest with us today.” The DJ spoke into the microphone. “Kip Sellars. Newest rookie of NASCAR. Who has already made a name for herself climbing the ranks in Formula One in more ways than one.”

  He turned to Sellars with a chuckle. “I would love to talk about your bad girl reputation, but the phone lines are already lit up across the board here. I normally do a little meet and greet, but these people are beyond anxious to have a chat with you.”

  Sellars nodded. “By all means. Let’s take a caller.”

  Lacy held her breath while the call was connected, secretly praying it would be a fan.

  “Thank you for calling WXPT. Go ahead with your question.”

  “That bitch needs to get the hell out of NASCAR. She’s not wanted here!” a male’s voice bellowed through the speakers.

  Lacy could only watch as Sellars gave a shrug and turned toward her own microphone. “Good thing you’re not signing my paycheck.”

  The DJ cut the call and immediately picked up another.

  “Hi! Thanks for calling WXPT. Did you have a question for Kip Sellars?”

  “Oh my God!” a woman squealed. “Am I really on the air?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Go ahead with your question.”

  “Sellars?” the woman cooed.

  “Yes. I’m here. How are you?”

  “Oh my Jesus. It’s really you?” The woman started babbling while other voices filled the space behind her. “It’s really her!”

  “Ma’am, please go ahead with your question.”

  “I’ll be at Sidewinders tonight! Come find me. Please please please. I’ll be wearing your T-shirt!”

  Sellars chuckled. “That sounds like a tasty invitation, but I’m banned from nightclubs until after the holidays, thanks to my own misbehavior.” She lied. Sure, it was implied that she stay away but never placed in wri
ting.

  “Well, that sucks,” the woman pouted. “Anywhere. You name the place. I’ll be there!”

  Sellars glanced toward Lacy. “Sorry, ma’am. They’re making us move to another caller.”

  The DJ ended the call and poked Sellars’s leg. “Wooowee! As you see, Pittsburgh, Sellars is a hot commodity.”

  Sellars pulled her sights away from Lacy while another caller was connected.

  “Kip Sellars.” A male voice filled the air. “How are you today?”

  Sellars ground her teeth at the same time Lacy recognized the caller. Brett. That pissant just wouldn’t go away. Then again, Sellars had screwed his wife. No doubt, that left a dirty little mark on their media perfect marriage.

  Lacy held her breath while an evil grin passed over Sellers’ lips.

  “I’m doing great. How’s that pretty wife? She still trying to teach an old, unsatisfying dog new, scream-inducing tricks?”

  Lacy hung her head. Dammit, Sellars. Not good.

  There was silence for several seconds before he chuckled. “Let’s not waste air time on my life. Everyone, thanks to you, got to see all of it, up close and personal. That’s old news now.”

  “True. But you have to admit, that wife of yours is very, very photogenic.”

  Lacy tapped the glass in warning. Sellars was goading the beast.

  He took in a deep, calming breath. “This is your time, Sellars. This is your platform. Your pedestal. So, let’s talk about your skeletons. Tell your new racing family how you murdered your girlfriend.”

  Lacy pecked the glass harder, but Sellars wouldn’t look at her.

  Sellars’s jaw tightened as she moved closer to the microphone. “You’re a dead man walking. Let’s talk about that.” She moved in closer, her lips almost brushing the foam cover, her teeth visibly clamped.

  “We’re all family here, Sellars,” he said. “No need to be embarrassed. Although, I have to admit, I was a little embarrassed when I saw my wife making out with a nasty piece of murdering scum. But again, this isn’t about me. Come on, tell us how it happened. Please, tell us how you killed her.”

  Lacy smacked her hands flat against the glass. The DJ turned to look at her, but Sellars was already gone. Her eyes narrowed on the microphone as if she could see down into it, find the fucker on the other side, and drag him through.