Dangerous Curves

by Larkin Rose

  Sellars had no choice but to look down. No bra. Just naked skin teasing her with how much more she wanted to see. How much more she wanted to taste and chew.

  “Can you do that for me, sexy?” Lacy whispered.

  Sellars picked up the unused permanent marker lying by her fingers and rose from the chair. She couldn’t drag her gaze from Lacy’s chest. The images of Lacy lying flat on her back against the hood flooded her conscious. She wanted to do that again. Needed to do that again.

  She ripped off the cap, leaned into Lacy, and signed her name.

  “Thank you,” Lacy whispered again.

  Her sights slipped down to Sellars’s lips for several seconds before she blinked and stood up. She picked up one of the photos and waved it above her head. “Ladies! I made extras of this hot piece of ass! Grab them before they’re all gone!”

  One by one, people moved toward her table.

  Before Sellars knew it, the mall was closing.

  She’d sold every hat and keychain, every T-shirt and postcard, and signed more skin than should be humanly possible.

  She spotted Lacy across the aisle sitting on a bench, a pleased expression on her face.

  Lacy had done that for her. She truly couldn’t stand Sellars, she’d been called a whore, yet she’d made a spectacle of herself to draw in a crowd. Was the money that important that there was no level she wouldn’t stoop to? Or was she witnessing Lacy’s true colors? Her loyal, treat everyone equal, colors?

  Did Sellars even care?

  In a single day, in a single squeal, Lacy had managed to win back the possibility of a fan base. Her very own fan base. For that, Sellars couldn’t thank her enough.

  Lacy finally wandered over behind the table with Sellars, a smile teetering on her lips. “Was that fun for you?”

  Actually, it had been. She felt adored, wanted, and admired. The crowd had made her feel included instead of an outcast.

  “Well, look what the hell the cat dragged in,” a man announced as he approached the table, interrupting the thank you from her lips. “Lacy. Lacy. Lacy. How the hell are you doing, stranger?”

  Lacy grumbled under her breath. “I was perfect until I heard that grating voice, Leonard.” She stood tall to face him.

  “Still got that cutthroat attitude, I see.” Leonard took another step forward, and Sellars felt her guard go up.

  “Why change when I’m perfect just the way I am?” Lacy said.

  “Oh, you changed all right. Change didn’t seem to bother you when you tucked that tail between your legs and ran like a coward.” Leonard lifted his chin in defiance. “Tried to tell you this was a man’s world and women didn’t belong here.”

  “Women belong everywhere, assface.”

  “Coming from a woman who sold her soul to the devil, I’ll pass on Righteous Lesson 101.”

  Lacy charged, startling Sellars out of her inspection of the man. “You piece of shit, ass licker. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” She pushed the table to the side like child’s play and barreled for him.

  He jumped back.

  Sellars leapt forward and grabbed Lacy around the waist, pulling her back just as Lacy reached out for him.

  Leonard stepped farther back. “Holy shit, wildcat. Is that any way to treat an old friend?”

  Lacy pushed against Sellars’s arm, her legs kicking, her lips curled back in a snarl. “I’m going to claw your fucking eyes out, you garbage disposal!”

  To Sellars’s disbelief, several racers ran toward them.

  Lacy twisted in Sellars’s grasp. “Let me punch his fucking lights out.” She kicked out. “He’s a lying piece of scum, fucking shit face, goddamn troublemaking coward.”

  Spittle flew from her mouth, and Sellars dragged her back several feet.

  “Leonard, I think it’s time for you to go.” Stephen, one of the racers, stepped in between.

  “Hey, man. I was just here to snap a few shots for the tabloids.” Leonard held up his hand defensively.

  “Why?” Lacy bellowed. “So you can shovel a pile of repulsive lies in them? Like you always do!” She shoved against Sellars again. “Take my fucking picture now, you lowlife piece of cow dung. I got the perfect tagline for you! Karma reaps revenge on worthless, lowlife reporter.”

  Stephen turned toward Sellars. “Get her out of here before she kills his sorry ass.” He turned back to Leonard with a glare. “You! Start walking!”

  Sellars tightened her grip around Lacy’s waist and ducked out the double doors that led into the courtyard. She didn’t loosen her grip until they were in the parking lot beside her car and she felt safe she could catch Lacy if she fled back to finish what she so desperately wanted to start.

  Lacy jerked out of her grasp and started pacing. “I hate that man. He’s a worthless…a worthless…” She stomped along the side of the car. “I hate him. One day. One fucking day.”

  The woman with her clipboard raced across the parking lot with Lacy’s bags dangling from her hands. “Ma’am! You left your bags!”

  She came to a breathless stop, and with a forlorn expression, she held the bags out to Lacy. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  Sellars held her breath while Lacy calmly took the bags, terrified she’d use this woman as her personal punching bag.

  As soon as the bags were out of her grasp, the woman turned and jogged back across the parking lot.

  Sellars took the bags from her and dropped them into the back seat.

  Lacy looked up at Sellars, tears of anger glistening in her eyes, her small hands tightened into a fist. “Get me out of here before I change my mind and go back for blood. I’m beyond irrational.”

  Sellars reached around her and opened the car door. “Get in.”

  Lacy ducked inside, her sights trained on the windshield.

  Sellars closed the door with only one destination in mind.

  It was time to tame the tiger.

  Again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lacy fumed as Sellars drove them through the city; this time she was actually five miles over the speed limit. She’d even changed lanes more than a few times to move around slower drivers.

  She wanted to compliment her, to tell her it was about damn time she drove like a race car driver, that she was driving like a normal Pittsburgher, but she was still too pissed to utter a word.

  Leonard and his tacky lies. He was right about one thing. He was the true reason she packed her shit and left this beautiful city. The reason she had left Billy and his family. He and his colleagues who never hesitated to spread exactly what they wanted, no matter how many lives they damaged, no matter how many lives those lies affected.

  He was a true piece of shit, and one day karma was going to find him. Lacy prayed she’d get to watch. Better, she hoped karma would let her land one single punch before she took over. Maybe two. No. Three. One for Doug. One for his family. And the final, for Lacy. She deserved all three.

  Sellars pulled up to a gate, punched in a code, then pulled through. The decorative metal silently closed behind them. Inside the condo complex was a paradise. Evergreens littered the bright green grounds in various shapes and sizes and the grass was so green Lacy had to resist the urge to make Sellars stop the car so she could walk barefoot through it. She’d never seen anything this close to the East Coast look so much like the West Coast. Bright and cheery and so green. It was remarkable, and she couldn’t take it all in fast enough as Sellars moved swiftly along the street.

  “Where are we?”

  Sellars pulled into a vacant spot and got out. “This isn’t a date, so open your own door.”

  Lacy obeyed, inhaling the scent around her. She couldn’t imagine what the air would smell like with all the trees in bloom. When they bloomed. “Did we just warp into another dimension? How do they keep these trees so beautiful with all the ice and snow?”

  Sellars paced down a walkway that led to a wooden gate like a woman on a mission. “I’ve never asked. And I w
on’t start today.” She lifted the lock and pushed open the door to reveal a small patio area, free of plants or chairs or anything that proved someone lived there. Beyond that was a sliding glass door.

  Lacy followed and waited while she unlocked the door.

  Sellars slid the glass open, moved back, and waved Lacy through, her face unreadable.

  “Is this your new apartment? I thought it was being renovated.”

  “Stop talking, Lacy.”

  Lacy took in her serious expression. Her insides tightened, and suddenly, she wasn’t so mad anymore. Actually, the anger had simmered down as soon as she spotted a tropical oasis in the middle of what would soon be a white world. It was one of the things she missed most about Pittsburgh. The snow. Months of it. The mountains and riverbanks were magnificent blanketed in white.

  The memory of snuggling down in a blanket to watch the snow fall, flooded her mind. How she wished she’d never left. How she wished she’d held her head high, tucked down her fear, pushed down her need to spit in Leonard’s face, and stayed right where she was.

  But that career crashed and burned with Doug’s death. She could never be that same person she was then. That fearless person. That person hopelessly devoted to Billy.

  No matter how much time passed, she could never go back to that old career. It warmed her heart to know that she no longer wanted to.

  The door clicked behind her, pulling Lacy out of her moment.

  “Keep walking,” Sellars said.

  If the command hadn’t sounded so sexual, she’d disobey, deliberately, loudly, blasting Sellars with nonstop chatter.

  But that scolding expression told Lacy that she should obey. This time. She turned toward the living area so she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of the lust in Sellars’s eyes anymore. She would fall into them otherwise.

  There was no furniture. Not even a picture on any of the walls as she took another step, obeying.

  The whole place was vacant.

  Footsteps sounded behind her. Lacy’s heart hammered, and her insides tightened as she turned around to find Sellars inches away, staring down over her.

  Those eyes. Those damn eyes.

  Sellars pushed herself against Lacy and claimed her lips.

  Lacy hummed as Sellars urged her lips apart with the tip of her tongue. Fire shot down her chest and curled tight in her crotch.

  Sellars groaned and the sound galvanized Lacy. She snaked her arm around Sellars’s neck and wove her fingers into her hair, then pressed harder into that tight body.

  She shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be alone with Sellars. She knew it, yet she couldn’t stop herself. Wouldn’t stop herself. Didn’t want to stop herself.

  Sellars palmed her ass and smoothly pulled Lacy’s legs up and around her hips.

  She walked gracefully through the living area and into the bedroom, her hands squeezing Lacy’s ass, her mouth demanding, devouring, and then she dropped Lacy onto a bed.

  Without giving Lacy any time to object, Sellars ripped off her tennis shoes, overwhelmed with the need to feel those releasing spasms around her fingers, against her tongue. She’d never been so consumed with such an aching need so bad. The desire was blinding. The thirst was unbearable.

  She tugged off Lacy’s pumps, too impatient for those lips again to rip off the rest of her clothing, then she crawled over her. With a growl, she took possession of Lacy’s lips again, driving her hips forward, groaning against Lacy’s mouth.

  Now, she needed to be inside her. Right now, she needed to hear that cry of release. The need was too strong. God, it was so strong.

  Lacy grabbed her ass and forced her to drive again.

  Sellars obliged, pumping into her, swallowing Lacy’s sharp gasps.

  Even the sound of her was addicting. She needed more of that. More of those sexual sighs. More of those eager moans.

  But more than all of the above, she needed to feel her skin against Lacy’s. Needed the taste of Lacy on her lips. The tone of her release against her ears.

  Like nothing else she ever needed in her life, she needed to get inside this woman.

  Lacy bucked up to meet her thrusts, tugging at Sellars’s jacket.

  Yes. Sellars needed this jacket off. These clothes. She leaned back on her heels, tugged the blazer off, shucked the T-shirt over her head, and fell back over Lacy, promptly capturing those lips again.

  They were like a drug. Plump and kissable, and right now, they were silent.

  She liked that more than anything. Lacy’s tongue free of poison.

  Lacy locked her legs around Sellars’s hips and dragged her nails down her back.

  The sweet sting of pain settled in, and Sellars instinctively bucked into her again.

  Lacy couldn’t stand her. Possibly hated her. Yet Sellars couldn’t get enough of her. She’d never wanted anything to do with anyone who showed their intolerance of her. But Lacy was different. Somehow, her blatant dislike wasn’t like a knife in her back. It was like a stimulant.

  Right now, she couldn’t fucking get enough. As Lacy would say.

  She grabbed Sellars’s ass and drove her hips forward, begging with her actions for more. More. More.

  Sellars pushed her hands between them, her lips still hard against Lacy’s, and ripped at her jeans.

  Desperate to help, desperate for her weight, more desperate for penetration and skin, Lacy shoved her hands between them and desperately tugged at Sellars’s jeans. The button finally disengaged.

  Hopeless to be inside Sellars, for Sellars to be inside her, Lacy used her hands, her knees, then her feet, to work Sellars’s jeans down her thighs.

  Sellars finally pulled back and wrestled their jeans down and off while Lacy slipped out of her blouse.

  When Sellars looked back down over her, lust danced in those eyes as she looked from one nipple to another. Lacy had never felt so treasured. So cherished. Or so wanted.

  Sellars was spiraling out of control. She was going down in flames. It was just a matter of time. Yet, right here, right now, all Lacy saw was a woman who was broken, who had deliberately hidden all of the pieces so that no one could put her back together.

  Thankfully, Lacy had no desire to be the glue.

  She leaned up, wrapped her arms around Sellars’s neck, and pulled her back down.

  Finally, skin against skin.

  Sellars claimed her lips once again and Lacy hummed against her mouth. For once, for the first time since Sellars’s looked up in the detention center parking lot, Lacy didn’t despise her.

  She wanted her. If only for a little while.

  Sellars pushed her hand between them, then lifted her head to watch Lacy. She teased Lacy’s slick opening, her gaze curious and dark, her lips parted as she stared down at Lacy.

  Before Lacy could beg her for penetration, Sellars pushed inside her. Slow and deliberate.

  Lacy arched off the bed while the sensations overwhelmed her, while her insides tightened around those fingers.

  Sellars pulled out and drove back in, until Lacy was wrapped around her, bucking, her orgasm scrambling to the surface so fast it made her dizzy.

  Her insides clamped down in warning, and then she came in a blinding rush of electric energy.

  She screamed and thrashed under Sellars’s weight, grinding her hips, clawing at the bare skin beneath her fingertips.

  And finally, she sagged against the mattress.

  Sellars rolled onto her side, and Lacy could feel her staring.

  She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to fucking think about what they were doing. What they had done again. The thing Lacy swore would never happen again.

  Yet, here she was, once more, because she was a pathetic weak ass.

  “What?” Lacy grunted.

  “Tell me about Leonard.”

  Lacy opened her eyes to look at her. “You sure know how to ruin a mood.”

  “Call it intermission.” Sellars grinned. “Spill it.”

  Lacy focuse
d on her surroundings for the first time. No dresser. No clothes in the open closet. Just a bed.

  “Please tell me this isn’t your fuck palace.” Lacy wasn’t so sure it would matter at this point. She couldn’t have stopped herself to save her own sanity.

  “You’ll be happy to know you’re the first to come in this apartment.” She winked, and Lacy resisted the urge to crawl over her, grind her hips against that fit body until another orgasm robbed her of the need to truly spill it.

  She didn’t like talking about Leonard. Or the death she captured during routine practice. A place she wouldn’t have been if she hadn’t wanted to flirt with one of the pit crew. A woman recently employed by another racer’s team.

  Yet, there she’d been, happy to be in Billy’s world, striking up the “we’re going to fuck later” conversation with the new hottie, and trying out her brand new camera.

  And if those things hadn’t been worse, she’d walked down the hill just to get the best view of the curve. The place was empty save for a few wives or girlfriends and track personnel.

  She hated that she’d been bored all day. That she’d needed to get laid. That she’d gone there to do just that.

  The practice had been simple. Around the track they’d gone. Simple. Just simple circles. Not too much speed. Warming up the tires, she’d heard Doug say before.

  And then he’d increased the speed. Climbing high in the curves. Dipping low. Warming up those damn tires.

  Lacy had captured it all, excited at how vivid the images appeared. Normally, she didn’t spend a tiny fortune on a camera. But this one had called her name. Had been light in her grasp.

  Doug was on the long stretch. She could hear his engine whining as he increased the speed. And suddenly, he slammed the brakes, which immediately sent him into a spin.

  The tires caught on the pavement and then he was airborne.

  Every flip of that car, every shattered piece of metal, every inch of his body ejecting through the windshield, she’d captured.

  Lacy swallowed. “He’s an ass face who triggered a story about me after Doug’s family started the lawsuit against NASCAR.”