Reaction Time

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Reaction Time Page 6

by Alannah Lynne


  But she was only interested in teasing one cock. And based on the tight fit of Adam’s khakis, she was doing a damn fine job. She switched to chewing on her bottom lip and frowned. Why didn’t she get any of that last night?

  His soft chuckle startled and shocked her into realizing her gaze was locked onto the fly of his pants. “Problem?” Leaning in close he added, “And remember, you tell me nothing but the truth. The whole truth.”

  Shit. She was so not going to tell him the truth. She would never admit to feeling cheated by not getting that bulge last night. But she was addled and couldn’t come up with a believable response quick enough.

  A smug smile dripped from his mouth as he uncrossed his arms and legs, slid his fingers into the side belt loops of her jeans and pulled her to him. “You’re taking way too long to answer, which means you’re planning on lying.” His voice was low and menacing. His dark chocolate gaze bore into hers. “Do you know what happens when you lie to me?”

  She cursed the tremble starting in her extremities and puddling in her core. She shouldn’t be reacting to his words or his dark expression, but damned if the threatening look and dangerous eyes didn’t make her hot as hell. What deliciously torturous things did he do to those who lied?

  How could just thinking about it get her excited?

  She couldn’t respond. All she could do was look at him and think about how badly he messed with her head. She didn’t want to call him Sir and give him total control of her body. But a fundamental part of her responded to his words and touch and looking at him now, like last night, something within her shifted and all she wanted was to make him happy.

  Suddenly, she was very sorry she’d worn the yellow T-shirt.

  She shifted her gaze away from his and stared at the concrete floor. Jesus, she was as certifiably loony as her mother. Her mother’s obsessive-compulsive behavior was getting worse and worse. And staring at this man in front of her, who made her think and feel one thing one minute, and then another thing the next minute, Nikki understood how that could happen. The smart ass in her wanted to laugh at the thought. The daughter in her wanted to cry. And as expected, thoughts of her mother quickly darkened her mood.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  She turned her attention back to Adam, who had his head cocked to the side studying her, his expression as gentle as his tone. Before she lost her nerve, she leaned into him, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and quietly said, “I’m sorry for wearing the yellow T-shirt.” Thankfully, when she took a step back he let her go without any resistance.

  Unable to deal with the emotional chaos, she kept herself distracted by throwing all of her energy into the day’s events. They were nearing the end of the racing season, the points race for the championship was close and, since Nikki was one of the championship contenders, tension was running high.

  Adam was never more than a few feet away. Nikki knew his presence allowed Nate to relax about her safety and concentrate on his job of making sure her car was perfect.

  She did the usual rounds of media interviews, met with sponsors and their guests and signed the occasional autograph. By six o’clock everything was set for the next day’s qualifying races, the rest of the crew had taken off and Nate was headed toward his coach and a waiting Amber.

  Nikki kicked at the garage’s concrete floor with the toe of her boot and shoved her hands into her back pockets. The silence in the garage was overwhelming and unfamiliar and she kept thinking, what now? She didn’t want to go back to the motor home where she’d be alone with Adam. Being alone with him was becoming increasingly dangerous to her emotional well-being. It was too early to eat dinner. If she ate now she’d be starving again before bed. Most of the other competitors were hanging out in their motor homes. Maybe she and Adam could walk around and visit with the other drivers and their wives.

  She jumped as a hot hand wrapped around the back of her neck and warm breath kissed the side of her cheek. “What’s the matter? Afraid to go home with me?”

  “No,” she barked defensively. Too defensively she realized as the words came crashing out of her mouth. She turned her head to look at him and consciously relaxed her stance and tone. “Why would I be afraid of you?”

  His wicked, promising grin slid into place and she took a deep breath, steeling herself against its magnetism.

  He nipped on her ear. “Because you have a punishment coming. Two of them, actually. One for wearing the yellow shirt. The second for not answering me honestly when I asked you a question.” His voice was low and husky and anticipation raced down her spine, causing her to shudder, despite her determination to remain unaffected.

  “I know you’re at least curious, and maybe even eager, to know what I’m going to do to you. Let’s go so you can find out.”

  Unrestrained curiosity had gotten her into trouble more than once in her life but she was dying to know how he punished his subs who misbehaved. Since the conversation in the car yesterday, she couldn’t get the image of him with a paddle or strap in his hand out of her mind.

  Did he really spank them? Her stomach fluttered and knotted while her sex pulsed with the thought. Did he stand them in a corner? Would he send her to her room without dinner? Ground her from the TV?

  He moved in front of her and narrowed his eyes. “You’re smiling.”

  She laughed, confident he was merely messing with her head and wouldn’t seriously punish her like a child. “Yeah, I was wondering if you were going to ground me from the TV.”

  His eyes liquefied and became heavy lidded. He brushed his knuckles along her neck and down her arm. “No, what I have in mind for you is definitely more hands on.” Linking his fingers with hers, he tugged and began walking.

  She instinctively fought his grip and dug the heels of her boots into the concrete.

  When he turned to face her, his stern expression gave her pause and made her think maybe she should be afraid. Very afraid. He quirked an eyebrow and without an ounce of humor said, “Unless you’d like to receive your punishment right here I suggest you stop pretending to fight me and come on. I’m not much into exhibitionism, but I bet there’s more than one person in this garage area who would love to see you with your pants around your ankles, your bare ass turning pink.”

  She gasped and tried to pull in air but it didn’t seem to be making its way to her lungs. His expression left no room for argument and there was no mistaking his words or intent. He’d do it. Without hesitating for one second, he’d do exactly as he’d threatened. A thousand butterflies lifted off in her stomach and an uncontrollable trembling rippled through her body.

  This time when he turned and began walking, she followed—legs wobbly, head spinning to the point of dizziness, hyperventilating with no brown paper bag in sight.

  As her mind raced and adrenaline pumped, questions flooded her brain. When, exactly, had she become okay with this? How many subs did he have? Was she one of many? And if so, why did it bother her?

  Her steps became heavier and she dragged her feet. “How many…women…girlfriends…subs, whatever you call them, do you have?” The words gushed out of their own accord. Damn her mouth anyway.

  He stopped and turned to face her. “One. And she’s the most beautiful, contrary, hard-headed one I’ve ever known.”

  He turned and started to walk again but this time her feet were rooted to the spot. Did he mean her? She certainly fit the contrary, hard-headed part. But what about the hot date he’d had on Tuesday night?

  Her breath caught in her throat and she took a step back. He didn’t mean her. He must be talking about the hot date. And what was she, besides a weekend diversion?

  He’d seemed to want more last night, but the prospect of hot sex could make a man say and do anything. Except they didn’t have sex. Was he simply fucking with her head, getting her to fall for him even though he wasn’t interested in anything more than playing with her this weekend?

  She jerked hard on her hand and it slipped through hi
s fingers. She should be glad he wasn’t talking about her. She didn’t like playing his games anyway. He confused and distracted her when she needed to focus on racing. She should be thankful she’d figured it out now and hadn’t allowed herself to get further involved in his ego trip.

  Why then, did she feel as if she’d been trampled on all the way to her soul?

  Concern and confusion creased his brow as he turned and closed the distance between them. “Nikki? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t be one of many, Adam. I’m not made that way.”

  He rested his hands on her hips and bent his knees, making them the same height and bringing them eye to eye. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Nikki waved her hand around as if she were shooing flies, or shooing off his handsome face and bottomless eyes. “I was never good at sharing, you can ask Nate. I’m possessive of my toys, my cars and my—”

  “Yoo-hoo, Nikki. Over here.”

  Nikki and Adam simultaneously turned their heads toward the very Southern, very prim sounding voice. Nikki closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands, which helped muffle her voice when she screamed, “It’s not Friday yet, dammit! I can only handle one lunatic at a time!”

  Her hands fell from her face as Adam’s fingers tipped up her chin. “Nikki, sweetheart, talk to me. I’m assuming she’s your mother?”

  It was all too much. One problem she could deal with. Two, of this emotional magnitude, she snapped. Straight armed, fists clenched at her side she spat out, “I’m not your sweetheart. And I’m sure as hell not gonna be another one of your playthings. Leave me alone, Adam.”

  She turned and stalked off to the golf cart carrying her mother, leaving a stunned Adam standing there alone. After speaking with the driver, she climbed onto the empty backseat and took the short trip back to her motor home.

  As soon as the cart slowed, and without a word to her mother, she jumped off and stormed to her motor home. Only to stop short when she saw an envelope attached to the door, having the same typeface and appearance as the previous threatening letters. She ripped the letter off the door, stomped into her motor home and went straight to her bedroom. Slamming the door behind her, she grabbed her cell and dialed Nate’s number.

  “This better be damned important.”

  “I got another letter.”

  “Shit. What’s it say?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t opened it. But that’s not really my biggest problem. I can’t handle Adam and Mama by myself.”

  She heard a muffled curse. “Mama’s here now? I thought she wasn’t coming in until tomorrow night.”

  “Yeah, me too, but guess what? She’s here. Get your ass dressed, you’re coming with us to dinner.”

  Amber squealed in the background, there were a few more muffled curses then, click.

  She snapped her phone shut, flopped face down on the bed and did something she hadn’t done in nearly three years. She cried. Gut-wrenching sobs until her face was swollen, her nose was stopped up to the point she couldn’t breathe and there wasn’t a tear left in her body.

  Chapter Eight

  Nikki kicked at the sheets wrapped around her legs like she was shaking loose a Chihuahua that had latched on to an ankle. Finally freeing herself from the tangled mess, she flipped onto her back and forced herself to stare at the ceiling fan. Keeping her attention locked on the blades as they went around and around and around kept her from looking at the clock…again.

  Her body knew she needed sleep. Her body wanted sleep. Well, actually her body wanted more of what Adam had to give. But with Mama tucked away in the guest bedroom and Adam on the couch, that wasn’t going to happen.

  The cool air from the ceiling fan wafted across her body, causing her nipples to pucker and press into the front of her cotton tank top. They were sensitive—especially the left one, which had received the majority of Adam’s attention the night before—and she ran her hands across them in an effort to massage away the pulsing ache.

  What a ridiculous idea. Touching herself did nothing to assuage the thrumming in her breasts and thoughts of Adam only intensified the ache settling around her heart. And while she lay in bed aching, Adam was camped out on the couch mere feet away. But he might as well be a million miles away for all the good it did. Despite her best efforts to ignore his presence, her mind insisted on rehashing every painful detail of the roller coaster day.

  From the second she’d cracked her eyes open the day had been for shit.

  She woke up every morning alone, but this morning she’d felt lonely. She’d never spent the entire night with a man but she’d liked having Adam in her bed. Several times during the night she’d awakened to find his arms wrapped around her. Protective. Possessive. And it had been comforting and gratifying.

  She kept telling herself it should have felt wrong. She shouldn’t have liked the way his hands felt on her—and in her. She shouldn’t have gotten excited by his words and the way his eyes had devoured her. And she sure as hell shouldn’t want more.

  But she did. And now, having finally admitted it to herself, she wanted him with a desire bordering on obsession. God, she hated being such a freakin’ girl.

  How could she want someone so complex? He was demanding—no shit, he was a Dom—but he was also tender and compassionate. She’d felt safe with him and, although it had been hell to give up control, it had also been freeing.

  None of it mattered, though, because he didn’t want her in the same way. Although he’d indicated he wanted more than sex, she wasn’t even sure he wanted anything past this weekend.

  As the vise squeezed her chest tighter, “Back in Black” erupted from her cell phone. Oh shit! Three-thirty phone calls always meant bad news. She snatched up the phone from her nightstand. “What’s wrong?”

  Before Nate responded, Adam burst through her bedroom door. His dark hair was tussled around his head but his eyes were wide and alert. Was it wrong to take a small amount of pleasure in knowing he hadn’t been sleeping either?

  Nate, who never lost his cool, sounded frantic. “Amber’s sick and I don’t know what to do for her.” She heard moans and mumbling through the phone. “I mean horribly sick, Sis. You’ve gotta come over here.”

  “I’ll be right there,” she said, feet already on the floor. She relayed the information to Adam as she pulled on a pair of jeans, tore off her tank top and pulled on a T-shirt. Then realized she’d flashed him a shot worthy of a dozen strands of beads at Mardi Gras.

  Adam, who’d apparently been sleeping in his clothes, slid his feet into a pair of topsiders while Nikki crawled on hands and knees, pulling her flip-flops from under the chair in the salon.

  Her mother opened the bedroom door, confusion and concern flickering across her face. “Where are you going?”

  Nikki stood and stuck her feet into the hot pink flip-flops and grabbed her jacket from the hook by the door. “Amber’s sick. We’re going to Nate’s.” Nikki gave her a quick hug. “Go back to sleep. We’ll be quiet when we come back in.”

  Her mother stood statue still through the hug, looking slightly shocked. “I should go with you,” she said, dropping her gaze to the floor. She wrung her hands together and whispered, “This is terrible.”

  “We’re going on over,” Nikki said, as she pushed the door open. “You know where Nate’s coach is. We’ll see you there.”

  She had one foot on the top step of the motor home, the other about to follow when Adam gripped her arm. His expression was unreadable and he appeared to be carefully considering his words. Surely he wasn’t going to address their issues now. As Nikki’s patience reached its final inch he said, “You go on over to Nate’s. I’ll walk over with your mother.”

  Nikki frowned. He was being nice. Dammit, she didn’t want him to be nice. It made it too difficult to stay pissed, and she needed to stay mad in order to keep her distance. “Thanks,” she grumbled, then jumped down the steps and headed for Nate’s.

  By six a.m. they’d
moved Amber to the track’s medical center and the track physician had started an IV and began giving her medications to stop her nausea and help her sleep. It appeared to be a severe case of food poisoning and the only thing to do now was keep her comfortable and hydrated.

  Nikki sat off to the side and watched Nate brush wisps of hair from Amber’s face and whisper words of affection to her. Thanks to the medication, she was finally sleeping peacefully, but Nikki knew on some level Amber heard him because she rolled her head to the side, putting them face-to-face.

  Even though his brow was creased and his mouth drawn tight, the love pouring from her brother was obvious. Nikki had never seen him in love and it was almost painful to watch. She knew Amber was “the one” and, while she was happy for him, she also knew it meant big changes would be taking place in their own relationship.

  Soon she’d be totally alone.

  Racing had always been their first priority. It had been infused into their systems as children and for the past three years there hadn’t been a choice about it. But it appeared Nate had found someone who meant more to him than racing, and Nikki needed to let him know she understood.

  She stepped behind her brother’s chair, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on top of the head. “I’m gonna go back to the coach and check on Mama and Adam, and try to get some sleep. I’ll meet with the guys, let them know what’s going on and let Carl know he’s gonna be running the show today. You stay here with Amber.”

  He swiveled around in his chair and she knew he was getting ready to argue, simply out of habit and from the belief that nothing interfered with racing. She put her hand over his mouth and cut off his argument. “It’s only qualifying. You know we’ll get through it with no problem. You need to stay here with Amber.”

 

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