by Shey Stahl
Jameson shook his head and snorted. “What does it look like happened?” He threw his arms in the air. “He wrecks me in practice. He blocks me in my pit, and then he puts me in the wall. I got a run on him and he blocks me, again. I had nowhere to go.”
“You and Darrin seemed to have it out for each other out there.”
“You’re so perceptive.” Jameson retorted coldly walking inside the hauler, the door slammed shut behind him.
Alley stood outside with us. “This is not good. Why can’t he just keep his mouth shut and not react like this?”
I just offered a shrug. There wasn’t much else to say.
Kyle showed up and walked inside with a grim expression, he’d just been talking to Jimi and Simplex. I’m sure they had to concerns with their driver’s actions today.
Twenty minutes later, they emerged with from the hauler with two NASCAR officials who escorted each driver back to their transporters.
Jameson and Kyle didn’t say anything so we just followed quietly.
Alley was typing away on her Blackberry, Emma was texting Aiden and I watched Jameson’s ass while he trudged back towards his hauler.
Now is not the time to be thinking about that Sway!
I couldn’t help it, I tried but anytime I watched that ass, I watched it. Thoughts of the mirror had me smiling.
When we made it back to Jameson’s hauler, he walked inside with Kyle and Alley.
Before the door even closed, Jameson was throwing tools. Kyle was yelling at him and Alley was actually screaming.
They hadn’t loaded the car yet so Emma and I sat down on the hood and waited for the storm to clear—it was going to be a long night.
We’d only been sitting there a minute when Emma looked back at the car with questioning eyes and then back at me.
“Is this the same car...?”
“No. He wrecked that one.” I smiled widely feeling the heat from the engine and my cheeks. “But it’s the same hood.”
“My goodness you guys are sluts.”
“I know. Everyone keeps telling us that.” I agreed, shifting my weight on the hood.
I had a damn hood pin up my ass reminding me that I needed underwear. “By the way, I need to go shopping tomorrow.” I said under my breath. “I don’t have any underwear.”
Emma raised a questioning eyebrow at me and I knew she heard me. “Not that I’m opposed to shopping but why don’t you just do some laundry tomorrow?”
I looked away before I spoke because if I looked her direction I would burst into giggles that I’m actually telling someone this. “They’re ripped.”
“How did...” she started laughing loudly. “Wow!”
“Shut up!” I tried to sound mean but I ended up smiling at her. “So you’ll take me?”
“You know, you could go ask Dana for a pair of Jameson’s.” she snickered. “I’m sure she has a few you can borrow.”
“I’m wearing a pair of his right now.”
“This just gets better and better.” Emma replied thoroughly amused.
Though I’d agree, it just keeps getting better and better, our better was entirely different. Before I could say anything more, Alley came out of the hauler with her Blackberry pressed to her ear.
She put her hand over the receiver. “You guys ready?”
“Ready for what?” we both asked at the same time, confused.
The door to the hauler was ajar so I glanced inside. Jameson was leaned against the counter with his head bowed, his arms crossed over his chest.
“We’re going to dinner.” Alley said and continued talking to what I assumed was someone with Simplex.
“Yes, he will be there...okay...the one on Pocono Blvd...yes...” After glaring, she hung up tossing her phone inside her bag. “Come on,”
“I’ll wait for—” I began but Alley yanked me along with them.
“No you won’t. He’ll meet us there and believe me...you don’t want to be around that,” she pointed toward the hauler. “right now,”
Unwillingly, I followed and got in the Expedition with them.
“Where are we going?” Emma eventually asked as we pulled through the driver’s compound and towards the infield.
“Jameson has a meeting with Simplex at Burke’s Tavern & Restaurant in Pocono. I’m going there to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid and you guys are coming with me.” Alley sighed and shook her head. “I’ll be damned if I’m putting up with his moody ass all night by myself.”
“Where’s Spencer?” Aiden asked getting in the backseat with Emma.
“With Jameson. He’s supposed to make sure he gets there on time.” Alley shook her head once again. “Oh damn it—I should have had you do that, Aiden.”
She was right.
Leaving Spencer in charge was a very by idea. “See Alley, you should have let me stay. Now they are never going to make it. They’re probably drinking beer right now.” I pointed out.
Alley gave me a pointed glare in the rearview mirror. “No,” she spat. “If I left you in charge you two would be going at it in up against a wall somewhere.”
Both Aiden and Emma turned to look at me with amused expressions.
“She has a point there.” I mumbled pretending to play with my cell phone.
When we arrived at the bar, Melissa was sitting at a large booth with another taller man with dark hair, dressed in a suit.
Alley walked up to them, shook hands, and then introduced us. “Melissa...you remember Emma, Aiden, and Sway, right?”
Melissa smiled politely and shook our hands again.
Alley pointed to the man, “This is Marcus Harding. He’s the President of Simplex Shocks and Springs.”
Marcus reminded me of an actor you would see on those Matrix movies with his jet-black hair and matching Armani suit.
We all shook hands and then took a seat around the table in the far corner of the bar.
Marcus cleared his throat, his voice stern like our high school principal Mr. Lars. “Where’s Jameson?”
Yep, he sounded just like our principal and asked that same questions frequently.
“Jameson’s on his way. He had a press conference to finish up.” Alley answered typing away on her Blackberry. “Jimi can’t make it. He’s racing in Knoxville and then catching a flight to Charlotte in the morning.”
The waitress made her way over to take our drink orders.
When she looked to me, I answered before she had a chance to ask. “Shot of Tequila, please.”
Both Aiden and Emma looked at me once again. “If I’m going to sit here all night with these people,” I motioned with a shift of my eyes to the Matrix Armani dude. “I’m getting drunk.”
Another hour later and twelve, yes count them, twelve shots of Tequila, Jameson and Spencer showed up.
Jameson didn’t appear to be in any better of a mood then the last time I saw him with the defiant stare he sported as he approached the table.
He looked cleaner, having showered I assumed, and looked like a walking billboard for Simplex, wearing his black and red Simplex hat, along with a black hooded Simplex sweatshirt and stone washed jeans.
I wanted to grab him and hump his leg like a Mississippi leg hound but that could be the Tequila talking. I wasn’t sure Tequila knew what the fuck it was talking about these days.
Marcus and Melissa stood when they reached the table. “Jameson,” Marcus greeted him with a firm handshake. “Thank you for meeting with us.”
“Let’s go to the bar.” Alley ordered pushing us away. “Spencer, carry Sway and for Christ sakes, don’t give her any more Tequila.”
I wasn’t in any shape to be walking that’s for sure but I wasn’t about to be carried by Spencer of all people.
“Hands off shit head.” I snapped when Spencer reached for me. “You’ve already seen me naked today, no touching.” Spencer raised his hands and backed away with that dirty smirk. I glared. “Don’t make me hit you again.” I warned when he stepped behind Alle
y.
I watched Jameson talk with Marcus and Melissa.
I had no idea what was being said but Jameson wasn’t looking all that pleased and neither was Marcus.
Jameson didn’t say much just nodded and surprisingly listened.
After about fifteen minutes and another two shots of Tequila I snuck from the bartender, Marcus and Melissa left.
After walking them to the door, Jameson approached the bar and stood beside me, our forearms touching.
My eyes flickered towards him to find him staring at me. The bartender asked him what he’d like. Jameson didn’t say anything just pointed to the shot glass in my hand and held up two fingers, his gaze fixated on mine.
When the bartender returned with the shots, he placed them in front of us. We still hadn’t said anything to each other by that point.
Jameson’s eyes seemed different but I couldn’t place the difference. Maybe it was that defying edge again.
Slowly, he turned the bar stool I was sitting on to face him, the metal legs scrapped across the floor.
Placing both his hands on my knees, he spread my legs apart to stand in between them. His right hand reached across me to grab the salt and then he leaned in and kissed my neck with slow wet kisses before dragging his tongue along my collarbone.
All this in a very public bar.
Before I realized what he was doing, he shook the salt on the place he just kissed and placed the lime in my mouth.
After licking the salt away, he leaned back to take the shot, and then sucked down on the lime he’d placed in my mouth.
Holy mother of pearl.
Right there, in front of everyone, including his family, Jameson pulled the lime from his mouth and gave me another passionate kiss, similar to the one in the pick-up last night.
Ignoring Spencer’s catcalls and Aiden’s whistling, he attacked my mouth with angry kisses, his hands fisted in my hair welding my mouth to his.
I didn’t know what to do or how to react so I just simply gave in and returned the passion.
Once I became light headed from the lack of oxygen, I pulled away but his mouth never left my skin, instead it moved to my neck.
“Jameson,” Alley warned after another minute. “There’s a better place for this sort of thing.”
Jameson ignored her, his arms wrapped firmly around my waist pulling me towards him and his camshaft pressed nicely against its crankcase.
I nearly fell off the barstool just trying to get closer. My crankcase brought back her justifications and wiggled against him.
His hands immediately flew to my hips to stop me. “Stop that,” he growled in a low husky voice. I didn’t though. I did it once more to savor the feeling. “Unless you want me to fuck you up against this very bar, stop it.”
“That’s one we haven’t done yet.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He stated firmly, his eyes hard and completely serious. “I’m really not in the mood to be challenged.”
“Stop that you two,” Alley nudged Jameson. “You’re in public. Try and behave like normal civilized people and not like two hormone enraged seventeen year olds.”
Jameson laughed stepping back. “Yes mother.”
I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, melting in the rich intoxicating scent of him. “Later?”
He winked and took the other shot.
The rest of the night passed in an absolute blur of Tequila shots, Spencer singing Bust a Move with Jameson and Aiden as they danced around like complete idiots on top of the bar, and Alley yelling at all of us to behave.
We never did talk about what happened during the race or even after the race. Instead, we had a good time and behaved like the twenty something kids we all were. You might think living a lifestyle with money and fame Jameson could do what he wanted and when he wanted but that seldom happened with the obligations he had. But that night, he let loose.
I couldn’t tell you what all occurred because once we left the bar, things spiraled out of control quickly when we found a strip of four bars in a row and decided to do a bar crawl.
The only thing I remember, besides Emma throwing up on Spencer at one point, was the last stop happened to be a tattoo parlor. Who in the right mind would put four bars in a row and then a tattoo parlor on the end?
That’s just asking for trouble.
8. Brake Fade – Sway
Brake Fade – Brakes transform motion into heat. The heat in the rotors of a car can reach five thousand degrees F. When the fluid in the brake system exceeds its boiling point due to hard use, bubbles can form in the brake line and calipers. Since these bubbles can be squeezed smaller by pressure from the brake pedal, the pedal tends to “go soft” and may even go to the floorboard without the brakes working properly.
My body was so completely exhausted from these last two weeks that I actually felt sick.
All things considering, this was a feeling I was growing accustomed to this last week.
Rolling over onto my back, I felt something hard and not the hard I was used to waking up with either.
Reaching underneath of me to pull out whatever it was I found a beer bottle. Groaning, I tossed it aside only the thump it made didn’t sound like the floor.
“Ow...” Emma yelped.
What was Emma doing in here? More importantly, where is here?
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I attempted to decipher my surroundings, blinking vigorously until my vision improved enough to see.
I appeared to be in a hotel room, a very white hotel room. Squinting once again, my eyes adjusted slightly to the brightness.
My god, it’s like an insane asylum.
I looked around for padded walls but saw none. At least I hadn’t been committed last night.
Rolling over, I covered my aching head with a pillow.
No one else seemed to be in bed with me so I sprawled out, I could determine where I was later, sleep was far more important at that point.
My head was hurting too badly for this bright ass room.
I needed darkness, lots and lots of darkness.
Who uses white paint these days anyways? Aren’t people into the earthy tones?
Lying there, I noticed how incredibly sore I was below. I had a few concerning thoughts surrounding this.
For one, my ass seemed to be fairly tender and I had some strict rules about the rear access. I just hoped that wasn’t the reasoning behind this particular soreness otherwise Jameson was cut the fuck off.
With a heavy, but female sigh, I felt movement beside the bed so I turned over again to see Emma with her head resting on the bedside, staring at me.
“Nice tattoo, Sway.” She whispered with a smug smile, her black spiky hair looking similar to a porky pine.
“What tattoo?” I turned over on my back to realize it was the side of my ass that hurt. Not just any hurt, like really bad hurt, and burned.
Emma pointed south. “The one on your ass that says: Property of Riley,”
Yes, she used air quotes.
I groaned loudly. “Not again!”
How was I ever going to explain “crooked lips” and “Property of Riley” to someone if I didn’t end up with Jameson?
All the more reason to marry him.
Emma giggled and turned around to busy herself with a bottle of water.
I burst into laughter, and not just “ha ha” that’s funny, like piss yourself laughter. I barely had enough control over myself to speak at the sight of the back of her neck.
“What,” Emma asked hysterically. “What are you laughing at?”
Words couldn’t be formed. I just pointed to the back of her neck and fell back on the bed in a fit of uproarious laughter. I don’t think I’d laughed that hard since the time Jameson and I branded those cows back in high school and mistakenly branded Spencer as well.
My legs automatically crossed over to prevent such a thing.
Concerned, and for good reason, Emma ran around the room screaming searching for a mirror. Once sh
e found one in the bathroom, I forgot all about my sore ass and laughed to the point that I actually had to squeeze my legs together to keep from peeing.
“OH MY GOD!” she screeched. “My dad is going to kill me!”
I threw my arms behind my head. “Nice tattoo, Emma.”
She ran out of the bathroom and jumped beside me, shaking the entire bed.
“Sway, what am I going to do?” she stared at me wide-eyed. “Maybe it’s a press on?” she considered and then proceeded to try to wipe it off. “Holy mother...” she winced, her eyes wider, if that was even possible. “That is not a press on.”
“I could have told you that.” I mumbled from under my pillow.
“At least yours is on your ass.” She kicked me. “How am I going to cover this up? I should have never cut my hair shorter the other day.”
“It’s not that bad.” I offered up. “Just get extensions put in your hair. Or wear turtlenecks.”
“It’s not that bad,” she repeated incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I shook my head under the pillow throwing my arms up in the air dramatically. I really just wanted to go back to sleep.
Emma ripped the pillow away glaring at me. “The back of my neck says: If you’re close enough to read this, you better be pullin’ my hair and spankin’ my ass!” her eyes bugged out. “It is that bad, Sway!” And yes, again she used air quotes. “It’s like some...horrible license plate frame saying you’d get from Trash R Us.”
“I think it’s funny.” I giggled once.
“You would.” She snarled.
I sat up in bed and punched her tiny shoulder. “That was uncalled for, take it back.”
She burst into tears. “I’m sorry. I’m just...” she wailed louder. “I th-th-thought y-y-you h-h-had to be s-s-sober to get a t-t-tattoo?” she hiccupped. “Don’t you?”
“Most places,” I sighed. “But honey, what did you really expect from a tattoo parlor next to a bar?”
Rubbing her back softly, my poor little pixie Emma just cried louder crumbled in my lap.
At least her tattoo was nice writing, it was a pretty elegant script, not tacky like you’d think it would be by the phrase she inadvertently chose.
