by Roz Lee
“Bring her in, Dell.”
* * * *
They'd come so far in the last few weeks, and with a little luck and some help from the track fairies, they'd finally have a win. Just forty laps to go at Dover and Dell trailed the lead car by a car length.
“Lookin' good,” Russell advised.
“I need fresh tires to catch him,” Dell said.
“Hang tight. There's a lot of action in the pack. We'll pit under caution.”
Dell held steady. If Russell were correct, the cars jockeying for position behind him would eventually get too aggressive and start knocking into each other. The caution flag would fly and all the leaders would pit for fuel and tires, maybe a last minute track-bar adjustment. He'd take the fuel and tires, but the car was handling good. He'd never driven a better car.
He had to hand it to Caro – the woman knew her cars. The mid-season suspension might have been the best thing that ever happened to Hawkins Racing. Caro made the adjustments she wanted, and had the time to test them out on an empty track. Dell smiled to himself. Caro was one hell of a woman, and he couldn't wait to celebrate today's win with her.
He was going to win. He had the power and track position to take the lead, but what was the point? Let Harbinger think he had it in the bag. His complacency would only make it easier for Dell to pass him in time to cross the finish line first.
Dell saw the track-side lights flash to yellow at the same time Caro's voice came over the headset. “Caution's out, Dell. Pit road is open.”
“Comin' in. We have time for four,” he said.
“Roger that, four tires,” Russell acknowledged.
Dell maneuvered around the wreckage on the backstretch and slowed onto pit road right behind Harbinger. The pit crew did their job with swift efficiency, sending Dell out right where he wanted to be, on Harbinger's ass.
He lined up next to Harbinger for the restart. The pace car turned off the track and Dell hung back a fraction of a second, letting Harbinger jump out in front. He had plenty of time. No need to push it. The third place car made a bid for Dell's position, but with fresh tires and the faster car, Dell was beyond his reach. He dropped back. It was back to the status quo, just Dell and Harbinger, and soon, Dell thought, he'd take Harbinger out of the equation.
“Five laps,” Jeff said from the spotter's roost atop the press box. “Clear all around.”
Dell throttled up, closing the distance between his car and Harbinger's by a foot. He'd take one foot at a time, and before Harbinger realized it, he'd be in second place crossing the finish line. Dell eased up another foot.
“Shit,” he said. “We've got trouble.”
“What is it?” Russell asked.
“A shimmy in the right rear tire. Low air pressure?”
“Could be,” Russell said. “How bad is it?”
Dell claimed another foot of track from Harbinger's lead. “It's not good. Fuck! What the hell happened? We've been running smooth all day.”
“Can you keep her on the track?” Caro asked.
“I'm trying,” Dell said. It was getting harder by the second. The rear end of the car was shaking like a can of spray paint in a tagger's hands. He backed off on the throttle and lost the few feet he'd gained on Harbinger.
“Two laps to go,” Jeff said.
“Dell?” Caro questioned.
“I think I can hold onto second, but passing Harbinger is out of the question.” Shit. What the hell happened? “I think we lost a lug,” he said.
“White flag,” Jeff said.
One more lap to the checkered. Dell made the decision. Missing lug or not, if he could hold onto the car, he might be able to nose past Harbinger in time to claim victory.
Dell throttled up. The wheel jerked beneath his hands, but he held on tight and eased up on Harbinger's ass, his car fighting him every inch of the way.
Move. Move. Move.
Finally, he got close enough to steal the lead car's air. Harbinger's rear end slid up the track.
“Clear,” Jeff said.
Dell wrestled his car alongside Harbinger's. The rear tire shook hard enough to rattle his teeth but Dell refused to give up. A few feet more and he'd be in the lead. All he needed to do was be first across the line. An inch or a mile, it didn't matter. The money was the same either way.
His arms ached with the effort to keep the car on the track. Fuck. So close.
The finish line beckoned. Dell throttled up. The car shot forward, overtaking Harbinger by a nose, then all hell broke loose.
Dell fought the steering wheel as the backend of the car flew apart in a shower of sparks and a symphony of grinding metal.
“Fuck!”
“Dell!” Caro yelled in the headset.
Dell hung on, helpless, as the car spun and crossed the finish line, broken-ass first, half a car-length behind Harbinger.
The car came to a halt in the grass median. Dell lowered the window net and waved to let everyone know he was okay. He took his time unbuckling the safety harness.
“Carolina?”
“Dell? Are you okay?”
“Fine. Does second place count if you cross the line backwards?”
He heard her smile in her answer. “Yes, it does. Good work out there today.”
“I'm sorry, Caro. I don't know what happened. I had the win.”
“You'll get the next one, Dell.”
He wasn't so sure. He'd done everything right today. For the first time since his father's death, he felt like it was the real Dell Wayne behind the wheel today. People thought he didn't notice his own driving. Hell, he wasn't blind. But until today, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to find his way back to the old Dell Wayne. He'd driven smart today – none of the aggressive shit he'd been living on for the last three years. The checkered flag should have been his.
Since his talk with Dickey Warner, he hadn't felt the restlessness he'd come to think was normal. He still didn't particularly like the guy, but they shared a bond that went beyond DNA. Caudell Wayne fucked up both their lives, and that was something they could bond over, even if they didn't know how to be brothers.
After their piss-fest on the Darlington trophy, they'd finished off the beers in Dell's refrigerator and gotten to know each other a little better. The alcohol loosened their tongues, and though Dell wouldn't go so far as to call Dickey his friend, he'd come to respect the guy. Dickey went from idolizing Caudell, to realizing he wasn't a god, to accidentally killing him, to finding out the man was his absentee father. In some ways, Dickey's life was more fucked up than Dell's, and that was saying something.
For Dell, having an ally in his hatred of his father made it easier. Caudell was gone, or he would be if Dell would loosen his grip and let him go.
Dell figured it was time to move on, put the past behind him. He didn't have a damned thing to prove to Caudell Wayne. The man made one son's life miserable, while he totally ignored the other. The past was the past. It was time to look to the future, and Carolina Hawkins was his future. She loved him. Granted, he might have imagined her saying those words, but he didn't care. If there was any chance she believed there was a man inside him worth loving, then he was going to find him – for her.
“Gotta go, Caro. My ride's here.” Dell waved at the tow-truck driver.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Caro clenched the ladder rail with trembling hands as she climbed down from the war wagon into the nest of reporters waiting to talk to her. Dell ran a clean race today. Not a single accident until the end. Even then, he'd spun solo. Coming off his latest suspension, his dramatic second-place finish was big news. She pasted on a smile and turned to face the crowd.
A million questions later and she headed to the hauler. Finishing second meant post-race inspections, so they weren't going anywhere for a while. It was a nice problem to have, Caro mused. Maybe the inspection would turn up the problem with the rear wheel. Whatever it was, it happened after the last pit stop. A loose lug? It was the most likel
y answer. It wouldn't be the first time a tire changer failed to properly secure a lug. She made a mental note to remind both tire changers to practice as much as it takes to get the timing down, though they'd never had a problem before.
Still, Dell's life was on the line every time he took the car out of pit road, so there was no room for error on the part of the pit crew. Racing was dangerous enough without adding unnecessary risk.
Caro pulled a water bottle out of the small refrigerator and brought it to her lips, hating the way her hands still shook. Watching Dell spin out as he crossed the finish line nearly did her in. She curled up in the corner of the sofa and let her head fall back. It wasn't like she hadn't seen Dell wreck before, but after the last one that sent him to the hospital… well, it didn't bear thinking about.
She needed to get a grip on her emotions. She eyed the slight tremble on the surface of the water in the bottle she still held. This is what she got for loving a racecar driver, and now she understood why her father hadn't wanted this life for her. Would it ever get any easier? She didn't see how it could.
Her heart all but stopped when he reported the shimmy in the rear tire as her imagination went into overdrive conjuring up all kinds of horrible wrecks that might result from a tire failure at one hundred and sixty miles per hour. A shudder racked her body. She set the water bottle on the nearest table and wrapped her arms around her midsection.
The door opened, startling her. Caro jumped to her feet. Dell stood there, all in one piece. One delicious, sexy piece. She couldn't help it. She threw herself at him.
He caught her around the waist and held her tight. She splayed her hands over his back and pressed her cheek against his chest. His solid warmth banished the cold she hadn't been able to shake since he'd first mentioned the shimmy.
“It's okay, Caro.”
“Let me hold you, Dell. Just for a minute.”
They held each other, listening to the crew stowing everything in the back of the hauler not necessary for the post-race teardown.
“I thought…” Caro shuddered again. Dell stroked her back in long, lazy sweeps. “I was so scared.”
“Shh,” he soothed. “I know. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened.”
“God, Dell. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you.”
Dell eased her away enough to place a finger beneath her chin and tilt her face up to his. They'd agreed to stay away from each other, but Caro couldn't care less about what anyone else thought of her. Right now, she needed the reassurance of Dell's kiss. Her lips parted in invitation.
“Nothing happened, Caro. I'm here. I'm fine.” Then, to drive home his point, he kissed her.
All the anxiety of the last few laps fueled her need into a raging passion. She needed Dell. Needed to feel his skin beneath her hands – needed the solid evidence of him against her, inside her. She needed Dell like she needed her next breath. Nothing else mattered but having him close to her. And if the rest of the world disapproved, then to hell with them all.
“Dell,” she said when they came up for air.
“I know we said we weren't going to do this, Carolina, but I need you.”
Her heart sped up like a stuck throttle. She nodded in agreement. “I need you too, Dell. I don't care what they say.”
“I do, Caro. I care – a lot.” His words put distance between them, but he didn't move.
Please don't say no. She opened her mouth to protest. His hips ground against hers and the shaft of his desire dug into her belly. The words died on her lips. Her heart raced with the knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“I wanted to wait until the season was over, or at least until you proved your point to the old boys' club, but I can't, Caro. I need you too much. You're all I think about, day and night. And God almighty,” he ran his hand down to cup her ass, “this fire suit makes me insane.”
She smiled at the gravel in his voice. “I could say the same about you,” she said. “I don't know what it is about it, but I want to rip it off you every time I see you in it.”
He cupped her face in his palm. His thumb brushed her lips in a tender caress. His eyes reflected his own wicked smile. “I'll wear it for you later, someplace private.”
“Promise?” she asked.
“Promise,” he said.
He kissed her again. This time, the banked passion simmered below the surface like a trophy awaiting the winner. Caro trembled again, but it had nothing to do with being cold and everything to do with the man whose lips heated her blood and stirred her soul.
* * * *
Dell couldn't wait to have Caro in his arms again. She'd been more than willing back at the track, but they'd agreed on discretion. The wait made the prize that much more special. She offered her hand, and he led her through the lobby to the bank of elevators. They waited in silence and rode to the upper floor, letting their hands speak for them as they met, palm-to-palm, fingers intertwined.
He'd chosen this hotel in a small town off the usual route between Dover and Charlotte. No one would know them here, but still, he wouldn’t jump her in the elevator, even though he wanted to. Tonight, Carolina would be his – the old boys' club be damned.
“I hate having to sneak around,” he said, pulling her into his arms as soon as the room door clicked shut behind them, sealing the rest of the world out.
“I'm through worrying about what they say about me,” Caro said.
“I'm not,” Dell said. “I hate sneaking, but I'd hate the gossip more. I won't give them any more ammunition to use against you, Carolina.” He cupped her face between his palms. “You mean too much to me. I want to see you succeed, and I'll do anything I can to help you, and that includes making sure I don't do anything to make it harder for you.” He kissed her, long and slow, infusing the kiss with everything he felt for her and couldn't put into words.
“Well, I sure hope you make something hard for me,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh, God, Carolina,” he laughed and pulled her against his erection. “You never have to worry about that. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to race with a hard-on?”
Her hand closed over the hard length of him through his jeans, making him groan.
“You've got on too many clothes,” she said as her fingers found the top button and began to work it free. It seemed to take forever, and then she went to work on the next one. He took over, silently vowing to invest in some jeans with zippers for expediency. God, he wanted to feel her small hands on him – everywhere – almost as much as he wanted to touch her.
He worked the final button free, and in one motion, shoved his jeans and briefs to his knees. His cock sprang free like a thoroughbred out of the chute. Caro wrapped her hand around him and his knees almost buckled. “Shit, Carolina. That feels so good.”
She wiggled her other hand underneath his shirt. He watched it bunch around her wrist as her hand slid over his stomach to his chest. A none-to-gentle push pinned his shoulders against the door. The top of her head sank lower, and lower. His little brain was in charge of his body now, so he didn't realize her intent until his dick disappeared, slipping between her lips, the last remaining inches clamped tight in her fist while the fingers of her other hand found his ass.
He couldn't look away. What was left of his scrambled brain screamed at him to make her stop. He fisted his fingers in her hair and willed them to force her away, but with each lick, each suck of her soft, sweet tongue, he lost another million brain cells. So instead of making her stop, he held on for dear life and let her have her way with his dick.
Thank God for the door. Every time his cock slid past her lips he moved a step closer to death. But, heaven help him, he wanted to go this way. The only thing better would be dying with his cock buried deep inside her pussy. The thought gave him the strength to push her face out of reach of his cock. “Carolina. I've got to have you. Now.”
Her gaze lifted to his. She ran her tongue over her swollen pink
lips and he almost shoved his cock past them again. The look she gave him told him she wouldn't mind, but hell, he minded. Her mouth was sweet as hell, but his body remembered another sweeter spot and he was going to have it – now.
“You taste good,” she licked her lips again.
“Good God, woman.” He lifted her by her armpits and dragged her body against his. He crushed his mouth against hers, tasted himself on her lips and groaned. “I've never wanted anything or anyone as much as I want you, Carolina Hawkins.”
She reached between them and clamped her hand around his aching dick. “I want you too, Dell.” She tugged once, twice and he closed his eyes to concentrate on breathing. “Make love to me.”
He sucked in a ragged breath as she released him and stepped back. Piece by piece, her clothes dropped to the floor at his feet until she stood naked before him – a masterpiece of soft female perfection. He reached a hand out to touch her and she took a step back. He tried to follow and nearly face-planted on the carpet as the jeans around his knees brought him up short.
She laughed – a wicked, seductive laugh. “You're wearing too many clothes, Dell.”
* * * *
He growled like a wild animal trapped and taunted. He grabbed a condom from his pocket and clamped the packet in his teeth as he fought his way out of his clothes. He'd never undressed so fast in his life. He ripped the packet open and sheathed himself, then he stalked her to the bed. It didn't matter his prey made no attempt to escape. She'd ignited something uncivilized inside him, something that clawed to get out.
Her legs bumped against the mattress and he closed the distance between them. He stood over her, drinking in her scent and the heat radiating off her body. She tilted her face up. Her gaze locked with his and there was no mistaking the look in her eyes. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
He lifted a hand to the back of her head and grabbed a fistful of her hair in a hard grip. She gasped, but made no attempt to stop him when he jerked her forward. Her hard nipples speared his chest.
His other hand came up to cradle her jaw. He stroked his thumb over the corner of her lips. He tugged her mouth open and slipped his thumb inside, dragging her mouth roughly to the side. She swirled her tongue around the digit and he groaned at the erotic enticement. “I don't want to be gentle, Caro. I need you too much.” She nodded her understanding. His hand moved to her ass, squeezing and kneading. “I won't hurt you.”
