Gas or Ass

by Eden Connor

  The car was dark, maybe burgundy. No racing stripes, no neon. “Then why’s he racing at all?” I blinked, wanting to look for Colt and finish the conversation. Only, I had no idea what to say, so I tried to focus on the information Caine was giving me.

  “Ego’s bigger’n Colt’s.” Caine chuckled. “Colt told him even his little sister could kick his ass. So he ain’t backin’ down. Ready to get some head, little sister?”

  I couldn’t respond because the Challenger roared past. A bright orange car was already lagging behind in the right lane. When the pair passed by, I studied my opponent through his lowered window. He seemed too old to be out on a back road after midnight, ready to race with a bunch of kids. As if he felt my stare, he turned.

  “Hope you taught her to suck dick,” the guy yelled, giving me the once-over.

  “She don’t need to know how to suck dick,” Caine retorted. “But if you don’t get her off, loser, I’m gonna wipe up the street with your ass.”

  Something wasn’t right. I looked away from my opponent, to the indistinct face behind the wheel of the car behind the Mazda.

  I leaned over to look at the driver of the car behind the Mustang.

  Through the glare of headlights, another guy stared back at me.

  “So, they’re racing?” I gestured to the pair of cars and frowned at Caine. “But, when one loses—”

  Caine’s laugh was harsh. “Girl, no man wants to lose a drag race out here.”

  The image that flared to mind made me shudder, but not with disgust. “I think I wanna see that.”

  He grabbed me into an embrace. “Shelby, you tear me up. You’ve got this innocent face, but deep down, you’re bad to the bone.” He let me go, but grabbed my hand, jerking me off the road and around to the driver’s side of the car. “Let’s get you ready to run. Colt’ll shoot us both if you lose to that asshat.”

  He unzipped my jeans before I could protest and shoved his hand down my pants. Pushing me against the side of the car, he found my clit and began the demanding massage. Pinning me with one leg, he muttered in my ear. “When you blow his doors off, he’s gonna have to get on his knees and tongue this little pussy until you scream. And you’re gonna come all over his face, because you won that right. See it, Shelby. Feel it. After a run that leaves you throbbing, can’t you feel that soft, wet tongue slidin’ into you? ‘Cause you’re already swollen and sensitive. Needy.”

  The cool evening breeze, the loud, revving engines, the way Caine’s five o’clock shadow scraped the side of my jaw when he kissed my neck, the demands his finger made on my body, all combined to drag me under. He swept aside my underwear. Now he pressed bare flesh, and he slid a hand under my shirt. My nipples hardened, making the vicious tweak almost unbearable.

  I knew the guy in the car behind us had to be watching, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. Caine slid his finger inside me. “Wet already. Such a dirty little girl, all horny at the thought of a bunch of guys with rock-hard dicks watchin’ her get off. To the winner goes the spoils, girl.” He made several quick thrusts inside me.

  The two cars on the line roared by. Caine jerked his hand out of my pants and opened the door to the Mustang. “Leave your pants open. Save you some time in the winner’s circle. And next time, wear a goddamn dress.”

  I slid behind the wheel and reached for the lever to adjust the seat forward. The keys dangled in the ignition. I hooked the seat belt, then reached for the switch. The GT500 roared to life. The car behind me reversed. My body settled into the rhythm of the big engine, throbbing with need. Colt stepped into the flare of my headlights and crossed to the asphalt. Jerking the door open, he landed in the passenger seat.

  “Smoke this fool, Shelby.” I reversed, easing the wide rear tires onto the road with a jerk. Colt spotted, opening the door and looking down at the ground. “There’s the line, babe. Whoa!”

  The Mazda backed into position beside me. I felt the driver’s eyes turned in my direction, but left the staring game to Colt and focused on the now-familiar sight of the girl with the white scarf.

  I was in over my head with Colt, so much so that the simple act of moving through the gears and pressing the gas seemed a relief. She raised the scarf. The guy next to us made a loud howl, like a wolf in heat. I shifted into first and kept my eyes on the flag as the starter raised her arm.

  “Go!” Colt roared, but I was already off the line. The big motor whined. I didn’t bother to look at the tachometer; the sound alone told me when to shift into second. The car leaped forward and the ride smoothed out. I heard nothing but the engine, not even my heartbeat. The view faded into nothing but darkness, but that darkness whipped by, my sense of motion aided by the odd flashes of neon and brighter sky.

  I hit third just as the Mazda pulled even, and that was all she wrote as the big block eight-cylinder hit her stride. His headlights were in my rearview by the time I made it to fourth gear and blew across the finish line. I eased off the gas with a hoot.

  “Whoo-ee! Damn good run, Shelby.” Colt grabbed me by the neck and leaned over to kiss me, nearly causing me to steer the car into a spectator’s vehicle. He pulled back when he felt the car veer. “Jesus, don’t wreck.” But his grin was ear to ear. “I hope someone timed that. Those practice runs the night Dad and Macy came home paid off in spades, babe. Turn right up here.”

  The side road was the same one Caroline and I had come down the night I’d ridden with her when she raced the Challenger for the first time. She was still parked in the center of the cul-de-sac. She lay across the hood. Brandon stretched out at her side. A guy stood between her open thighs, thrusting.

  “Pull up beside her car.”

  I followed Colt’s order, easing the Mustang alongside the Challenger. “Let’s go babe. Can’t wait to see that dude go to his knees.”

  I got out of the car. The victory hummed in my veins, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to collect my winnings. Colt lifted me onto the hood. The hot metal seared my buttocks through the denim. He grinned at my open fly, curling his fingers into my waistband and jerking the fabric down my legs. “Caine got you all horny, didn’t he?” He traced my slit through my panties. “You’re wet, Shelby. Tell me you don’t like this.”

  I wanted to tell him that very thing, but I couldn’t, because part of me liked this very much. To my right, the man fucking Caroline groaned and cried out.

  “Fuck, yeah. Baby made him come like a fire hose.” Brandon cried. “Who’s next?” Another guy stepped out of the dark area between the cars and the street lamp at the back of the circle. He dropped his pants and gave his cock a shake. Hooking his arms under her thighs, he stepped close. She rolled her head my way and smiled as he began to thrust.

  Someone’s steps rang on the asphalt, and suddenly, my opponent stood in front of me. He never looked at my face, just kept his eyes on my legs. Colt jerked my underwear off and tossed them on the hood behind me. Pulling one leg to the side with hard hands, he took a step back.

  “See that pretty pussy? You better make it run with cream, loser.”

  This guy still looked way too old to be out running illegal races with a bunch of twenty-somethings, but he knelt and the headlights washed out his features, so I thought that maybe the light was playing tricks on my eyes. Colt moved aside, but he kept his grip on my thigh. Caine came from somewhere, and he gripped the other leg the same way.

  It was obscene for them to spread me for stranger, and yet, it was hotter than hell. The man leaned forward and made a tentative lick along my folds. Colt moved close, shoving my shirt high. With each stepbrother fondling a nipple, the stranger went to work on my clit.

  “She handed you your ass,” Caine jeered. “Better finger that lil’ pussy, too. This ain’t your wife, dude. She better get off and get off hard.”

  His wife? That had to be a joke. The stranger slid a finger into me, moving in and out easily, I was so wet.

  “Fuckin’ hot little bitch,” Colt whispered. “Listen to how wet you are, l
ittle sister. Some guy you don’t know’s lickin’ that cat like he ain’t eat in a week, and you love it.”

  I couldn’t help it. The demeaning words made me arch off the hood. Colt pulled away far enough so I could see his knowing grin. He turned his head to look down my body, but Caine was there suddenly, blocking my view by lowering his head to my breast.

  My opponent didn’t have Caine’s technique. Being caressed in so many places had me writhing, but I couldn’t come.

  “Stick a finger in her ass and get down on that shit,” Colt barked, eliciting a round of boos and catcalls. “I mean, bury your face in that hot little cunt. Use your tongue. Gotta be a man about somethin’, since you drive like my grandma.”

  Something wet pierced my ass. On my right, Caroline cried out her release. “Fuck, baby, you want another hard cock, don’t’cha?” Brandon’s voice rose above the hard taunts aimed at the guy between my legs.

  He began to use his tongue, driving it in and out of me, and each time he did, his nose bumped my clit. The finger in my ass sent streaks of pleasure through me. Caine’s hard suckling and outright bites to the tender peak had me gasping with pain and twisting with pleasure.

  Colt finally turned back to me, and when he put his mouth on my nipple, I imitated Caroline’s cry.

  “Go on home to mama, boy,” Colt jeered. “My baby needs a real man now. Need a hard dick over here.”

  I gasped, “Make sure he’s got on a condom.”

  “No glove, no love,” Colt barked. “Got some in the dash if you came without.”

  The car door opened, then slammed. Someone stepped close. I didn’t care who it was, didn’t try to look. All I cared about was the way Colt gazed down at me.

  Or rather, I tried not to care about anything else. My heart hammered, but from fear, not excitement. The thrill of victory seemed far away.

  “How’s it winning if I don’t have a choice?”

  Someone pushed my thighs together. Caine’s voice cut through the darkness like steel. “We’re takin’ her home, Colt. And if you want to be an ass, we can fight about it.”

  “What the fuck?”

  Exasperation rang in Caine’s tone. “She’s crying, asshole. Can’t you see that?”

  Colt wrenched me upright. I slid off the hood and grabbed my jeans. A sound that made me uncomfortable rippled through the crowd. The volunteer had his jeans down around his hips. The latex gleamed on his erect cock and he gave me a baleful look.

  “What’s up, Hannah? You said—”

  Caine shoved a hand against the guy’s chest. “Didn’t you hear her say no, asshole? Get in the car, Shelby. Right now.” He bent to snag my jeans and underwear, then hurled them at me. “Get dressed in the back seat.”

  Colt dragged the guy aside, toward the loose line of guys around the Challenger. He and Brandon had heated words, but he stomped away and got into the Mustang. The way he gunned the engine and reversed down the long road until he found a spot to make a three-point turn told me how pissed he was. I couldn’t stop crying, but he never met my eyes in the rear-view all the way home. I fought to get myself under control. When he cut the engine and coasted down the drive, I hoped he meant for us to talk.

  He set the park brake with so much force, I winced. Slinging the door open, he finally turned around. “I told you already. I don’t play your little girl games. It’s my way or the highway, Shelby. Gas or ass.”

  Caine got out of the car and went into the house through the basement. I held Colt’s gaze, but couldn’t stop crying long enough to explain. With a shake of his head, he got out and slammed the door, leaving me in the back seat, so I cried until I felt like a dishrag someone wrung out, then crept inside and into bed.

  Chapter Twelve

  “So you drove all the way here in the middle of the night?” Mom’s eyes were wide with disbelief and she fiddled with the point of her collar, the way she did when she was pissed.

  “I told you. Caroline’s mom was sick. We had to come home.” Pretending to validate her concern was getting harder by the minute. She was worried about two young girls driving in the dark? Seriously? “I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.”

  “Well, it’s a big deal because, what if you’d had car trouble?”

  “But we didn’t have car trouble. It’s a brand new car. I got home around two a.m. Woke in my own bed, safe and sound.”

  “Shelby.” She didn’t say anything else, but her tone let me know my flippant attitude wasn’t winning me any points. She thought I was a child.

  “Why didn’t you call to let me know you were coming home?”

  “Because you were asleep by midnight. What was the point?”

  She fiddled with that collar until I thought I’d scream. Dale was gone somewhere by the time Mom realized I was home. Caine and Colt were still in bed, leaving me to deal with her. “About her. Well, about her mother.”

  “Don’t go there.” I held up a hand. “Whatever you’re thinking can be said about Colt, too, can it not? And we aren’t kicking him out of the house, are we?”

  “Robyn didn’t raise Colt, but she did raise Caroline. I’ve talked to Dale. I think it’s best if—”

  “Stop it. You drag me here halfway through my senior year. You don’t get to pick and choose who I make friends with. You have to trust me. Me, it’s about me, not Caroline. She can’t help who her mom is any more than I can. I’ve got two months left at this school, five until I go away forever. How much damage can my friendship with her do to me, assuming you’re right and she’s the root of all evil? Did you ever think that she really needs a damn friend?”

  “Good God, did World War III break out?” Colt came through the den, rubbing a hand along his hair. He wore red knit pajama bottoms with a Hanes logo on the white elastic at his waist.

  “Shelby’s being dramatic.” Mom scowled. “I’m sorry we woke you, Colt. Did you not find that stack of shirts I put on your bed?”

  “Don’t sleep in a damn shirt,” he muttered, brushing past her to yank open the refrigerator and grab the OJ. I tried not to stare at him, but it was plain he was still pissed off about the night before. He never looked at me.

  He shut the door and opened a cabinet. Slamming a glass on the counter, he glared at Mom. “Macy, my sister’s been through hell. See, everyone’s mama thinks like you. If it wasn’t for me, Caine, and her stepbrother, not a damn soul would have a thing to do with Caroline. She’s a little roughneck, but her heart’s as good as gold. Wasn’t she smart enough to try out for the same scholarship Shelby did?” He splashed the juice into the glass. I had a hunch he’d prefer to drink straight from the carton, but he lifted the glass to his lips and drained it.

  “Colt, it’s just that—”

  He swiped his lips with his forearm. “You gettin’ all riled about Robyn ain’t good for you and Dad, neither. The less he thinks about her, the better, because, for a man who swears he hates her, he sure as hell won’t let go of that anger. Last I heard, that means, on some level, he cares about her. Why go stirrin’ that up?”

  The implication that Dale might still carry a torch for Colt’s mother made Mom turn pale. I couldn’t decide whether I felt relieved, or wished he’d kept his nose out of our disagreement. Knowing what Caroline had said about her, I doubted Dale cared anything for Robyn, but the easy way Colt bullied my mother wasn’t lost on me.

  Something blocked the sunlight streaming through the kitchen. I turned toward the open side door, catching sight of the end of the trailer. Mom’s phone rang. She grabbed it, then eyed Colt. “Your father wants your help outside.”

  Colt left the juice and glass on the counter and straight-armed the side door. Mom locked gazes with me, then picked up his mess.

  “She’s really a nice person,” I assured Mom. “The only one who even bothered to speak to me, out of about two hundred classmates. But we’re home, and no one’s hurt. You’re just rattled because you weren’t expecting me until an hour from now.”

  “Shelby!”
Dale’s voice carried into the house. I glanced down at my pajamas, shrugged, and darted onto the deck.

  A roar came from inside the trailer. The rear end of the Barracuda gleamed. Sunlight turned the paint from deep purple to glassy grape. I gasped as the first white feather came into view. Dale had the side window down on his truck. I dashed down the stairs.

  “You used my design.”

  Dale nodded. His hat shaded his eyes, but he smiled. “The graphics dude at the shop said he thought it’d work real good with the lines on the car, so he cut one out for me. Let me pull out of the way. Think you can lift that tailgate?”

  I nodded. “I can try.”

  The side door slammed. I looked up to see Caine step around Mom. Colt didn’t offer to get out of the car, so I struggled to lift the heavy gate. Caine rolled his eyes and bent to grasp the side of the ramp, I grabbed the other side. I doubted I was much help, but he held the ramp upright while I slid the bolts into the latches. He slapped the trailer side when I was done and Dale pulled forward.

  Colt gunned the Barracuda, wearing a wide grin.

  I walked around the car, admiring the work Dale had done. The old top and interior had been black, but now, pristine white gleamed from both. Thin piping in purple set off the seats. ‘‘Cuda Hemi’ had been embroidered in fancy lettering on the back of each seat. The design was repeated on new black floor mats. The chrome gleamed much more brightly, I thought, than it had when the car left the drive, as did the paint. The wheels sparkled like new money, too, and the tires had deep tread. Caine was scowling while I admired the stripe when Dale came walking down the driveway. “Colt, let her behind the wheel.”

  “I need shoes.” I turned and ran up the driveway, dashing past Mom.

  “And clothes,” she yelled.

  I nodded, racing through the house. When I returned, Colt and Caine were seated on the stairs. I hopped over them. Dale leaned against the passenger side door.