by Shey Stahl
When we were finally in the car Alley rented us, another mini-van, Jameson finally spoke of his meeting with Simplex and his dad this morning.
“So you’re on probation?” Aiden asked.
“Yeah,” Jameson sighed looking down at his cell phone he was currently answering emails on. “I got fined twenty-five thousand and probation for the rest of the season.”
“That’s bullshit!” Spencer barked from the driver seat. “They know damn well it was his fault.”
“Believe me, I know.” Jameson agreed with a roll of his eyes. “But what else am I going to do? Phillip thinks it’s in our best interest not to appeal the decision and just keep our nose clean for the remainder of the season.”
“What did dad and Randy say?” Emma asked making herself a scarf out of a napkin she stole from the restaurant.
Resourceful little thing she was.
“Dad was too pissed to say anything and Randy, well you know Randy he just did a lot of screaming. I’m not really sure what all he said.” Jameson admitted, his eyes remained on his phone but he shrugged once. “My head hurt too badly to argue with them, so I just sat there.”
“So, what are you going to do about Darrin?” Spencer asked pulling into the airport parking lot.
“I’m going find the motherfucker away from the track and finish what he started.” Jameson replied, pointblank.
You couldn’t threaten a guy like Jameson Riley and get away with it. You couldn’t try to control him either without pushback. That’s something Darrin Torres was about to learn the hard way.
You see, the more you pushed him, the more he defied you. Back when he raced USAC, I saw this side of him more time than not and every time, his reactions remained the same.
Defiance.
9. Blue Flag – Sway
Blue Flag – The flagman will use this flag to signal to a driver that a faster car is either approaching (steady flag) or attempting a pass (waved flag). The driver being flagged has no obligation to do anything other than be alert, maintain the racing line and avoid intentionally obstructing the faster car.
“I can’t believe Alley rented this goddamn thing?”
“She’s your wife...” Jameson pointed when we arrived at his parent’s house.
“I feel like I’m driving a vagina on wheels.”
“Like I said, she’s your wife, dude.” Jameson laughed. “And good luck with the whole,” he motioned to his hair and ass. “Just...good luck.” He patted Spencer on the back as we got out of the mini-van.
It was around midnight when we arrived at his parent’s house in Mooresville. After last night, and spending the day with Spencer and Emma, I needed sleep.
As soon as Jameson and I got inside his room, we both fell on the bed tangled together asleep within mere minutes.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt so much better. My ass still hurt from my new tattoo but mentally and physically, I was feeling much better.
I swore to myself I would never drink that much Tequila ever again. I’m sure that resolution wouldn’t last though. I’d said that before, hell I even attempted to sue them back in high school when I woke up naked in the back of my truck after polishing off a half bottle, okay an entire bottle by myself. Regardless, I was sure I didn’t mean it but I felt better already even if I was lying to myself.
Jameson was still asleep on his stomach so I decided to let him sleep. After showering and dressing in my new underwear I purchased, I made my way downstairs.
When I walked into the Riley’s gigantic kitchen, I suddenly remembered how much I enjoyed cooking. Back home, I usually cooked for Charlie but since I’d been on my pretend summer vacation, I hadn’t done much but spread my legs.
That sounds horrible.
Making my way around their kitchen, I pulled out the ingredients to make Jameson some waffles—the boy was obsessed with them. His motor coach was overflowing with those damn Eggo waffles. I personally found them insanely delicious too but I wanted to make him a meal that didn’t have me as an ingredient.
Not that I was opposed to that sort of thing but we did need to find some balance; and nourishment.
After the batter was done and the waffle iron was heating, I heard footsteps behind me—hoping it wasn’t Spencer or Emma. I couldn’t handle them again today so I turned around warily.
And there, in all his morning glory, Jameson stood, wearing only a pair of khaki shorts. With insanely wild mess of hair, beautifully sparkly green eyes, sexy dirty smirk and his chiseled chest, was my hotheaded dirty heathen staring at me with lust burning eyes.
Hot damn.
He didn’t say anything but placed his hands on the island and the counter, trapping me in the corner of the U shaped kitchen.
“Hi,” My eyes stayed focused on his.
“Hi,” Jameson replied moving closer.
“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”
“My breakfast wasn’t in bed though, so...” he shrugged his shoulders grinning.
“If you would have stayed in bed,” pushing lightly against his chest, I grinned as well. “I could have surprised you.”
Jameson shook his head slowly lifting me onto the counter with a soft grunt. “I wasn’t looking for food.” He clarified.
“What are you looking for then?”
“I think you know.”
I tapped my index finger to my lips and looked up as if I was contemplating. “You were looking for waffles, weren’t you?” I teased.
“No,” he shook his head slowly looking around the kitchen. “Try again.” He told me reaching for the honey bottle next to my arm.
“Honey?” I asked softly. “You were looking for honey?”
“I wasn’t looking for honey...” his voice trailed off setting the honey aside and reached for the hem of my shirt. “But I found honey.”
I grabbed his hands. “Jameson, your parents—”
“Aren’t home,” He finished pulling my shirt over my head. His hands snuck around my waist dragging me to the edge of the granite counter.
What kind of pit lizard would I be if I didn’t whore moan and arch my back when I felt his already hard camshaft ready and waiting for me?
Not a very good on, that’s for sure.
Staying true to par, I did whore moan and arch my back in response because damn, this boy was good.
Jameson’s strong hands moved with determination up my sides and around my back to remove my bra. Slowly, he pulled the hot pink bra away; my nipples harden in anticipation.
Throwing it behind him, he attacked my nipples with his perfected nipple trick he did so goddamn well. With each nip, I let out a whimper of pleasure and ground my hips against his, earning a moan of pleasure from him too.
Jameson stopped, looking up at me from under his thick black lashes. “Are you opposed to being sticky?”
“I think you’re the one with the issue regarding being sticky.”
He smirked. “So that’s a no?”
“Have you ever known me to be opposed to anything while my legs are spread?” I felt the need to point out.
“Good point.” He grinned now. “You’re going to need a shower after this.” He reached for the honey bottle beside him.
Soon Def Leppard’s Pour some Sugar was humming in my head.
I really didn’t know the words to sing them out-loud but the entire situation was certainly playing out to the beat of the song when he leaned back, pulled my jeans off and then reached for the whip cream, shaking it with a quick flick of his wrist.
With his thumb, he popped the lid and winked. “You’re sweet but I think I like my Sway al a carte this morning.”
“Is that so?” I giggled.
“Mmhmm,” Jameson proceeded to pour honey, whip cream, chocolate syrup, and caramel sauce over my entire body.
Within minutes, I looked like a goddamn banana split.
Apparently, Jameson thought the same thing when he laughed. “Look at that,” his head skewed to the side. “I’ve cr
eated the perfect dessert. My very own Sway banana split.” He laughed again at his discovery, admiring his creation just as Spencer did with the dick on the wall.
What was even worse was that we were thinking the same damn thing, which was never a good sign.
This just proved Jameson was the other half of my brain, a theory our parents have had for years.
“Are you just going to stare at your dessert, or are you going to eat it?” I asked trying to be all super-sexy licking some honey from my arm but it didn’t go down that way.
Instead, when I lifted the said arm to lick it, I slipped on the sticky slippery granite counter and fell off the side onto the floor.
If that’s not embarrassing, I don’t know what is.
Jameson tried to catch me but I had so some much sticky shit on me, I slipped right out of his hands onto my tattooed ass.
Instantly we were both laughing.
In the process of the intended sexy lick-and-then-slip, Jameson was now covered in the same sticky sweet mess he covered me with, and currently trying to unbutton his shorts with honey fingers—not exactly an easy task.
After some effort, he managed to get the shorts down and proceeded to lick his Sway banana split.
I couldn’t take my eyes off his because holy mosses it was sexy as hell.
Jameson knelt down in front of me where I was sprawled out pit lizard-style on his parent’s cream tile floor, covered in sticky sweets.
“Gimme some sugar,” He grinned bringing my foot to his mouth where he took his time at my toes, licking off the smeared chocolate and honey. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with him licking my toes so I squirmed away.
Chuckling at my discomfort for that particular appendage, he moved up my calf to a dollop of whip cream and drizzled caramel. “You taste good.” His tongue carefully swept over me.
Ah crap...now I’m singing Trick Daddy’s Gimme Some Sugar.
His tongue darted out once more licking his way up my right thigh until he reached his destination but before his tongue met my ignition switch. He gave me a lopsided smile and bit the inside of my thigh.
I jumped.
“Did that hurt?” he asked in a low concerned gritty voice.
“No,” I assured him. “Just...uh...surprised me,”
He chuckled licking the whip cream, honey, chocolate, and caramel from my body before he continued his licking and sucking against my crankcase for some proper deburring.
Tongue. Lips. Hands. Fingers.
All of it, dedicated to my banana split and me.
Once his lips touched me, I lost all sense of time clinging to him desperately. The sensations were too much and I felt the sweet tension building within.
I’m not sure if it was being covered in sticky sweets that made this seem so much more intense or if it was just being with him over these past few weeks that was intense.
Every day, every single minute of the goddamn day, I felt myself falling deeper in love, if that were even possible, with this man.
I could feel a shudder rise deep within. It started at my feet, settling in my tummy, passing through me in waves. I knew I was panting, embarrassingly so but couldn’t make myself care.
“Oh god, Jameson...I...” I couldn’t even form the words.
With a growl that bordered on a roar, he was up my sticky banana split body and sliding inside me with determined thrusts. I thought he was going to come by the way he was moving but instead he pulled out, sat back on his heels to look at me, my banana split now covering his chest and stomach.
“I want to try something.” He said pulling me up with him.
We slipped a few times because Christ, there was a lot of whip cream. Jameson had become slightly carried away when the whip cream was out.
Once standing, he turned me around and bent me over the counter.
Hot damn.
Reaching for both my hands, he placed them securely on the edge of the counter in front of me.
“You’re gonna want to hold on for this.” He advised, his breath blowing across my shoulder. “Jesus you’re sexy.”
I giggled feeling him part my legs with his own, his camshaft positioned for insertion. His hands traveled up my arms and over my shoulders where he stopped and pulled my hair to the side so he could place kisses down my neck.
Jameson’s strong hands then traveled down my back and came to rest on my tattooed ass. Reaching between us, he slipped himself in, his hands gripping my ass tightly.
I think this is my new favorite position.
I looked around for a mirror but no such luck, so I looked over my shoulder back at him.
The moment I looked back at him over my shoulder, his eyes darkened and he lost it, completely lost it. His head fell back; his eyes fell closed as a “Fuck Sway” fell from his honey chocolate jazzled lips.
Slumping forward against me; his arms wrapped around my waist. “Sorry...I lost it when you looked back at me.” He panted.
“It’s okay. That was amazing...” I went to turn around to face him but slipped and once again fell to the ground.
Thankfully, Jameson had already pulled out because Christ, we could have lost some important parts that way.
There we both were, lolling on the tile floor, covered in sticky sweet and laughing at each other.
“Should we clean this up?” he asked, motioning to the mess around the kitchen as he licked some chocolate from my finger.
“Probably, but—” I began but was interrupted by the sound of the garage door opening.
Jameson and I both gaped at each other in horror that we were naked, covered in sticky sweets, in his parent’s kitchen.
This by far transcends anything that’s happened in the last two weeks.
Jameson luckily reacted first reaching for clothes in any way he could, throwing my shirt and jeans at me, screw the underwear.
I went to put the shirt on when I realized the funbags were still covered in chocolate syrup.
Shit.
While I was trying to wipe them off Jameson stopped me. “Fuck Sway, just put your damn shirt on.” he snapped staring down at the funbags in all their chocolate glory.
“I’m covered in syrup and my tank top is white.” My eyes focused on his camshaft. It was very obvious what we had just been doing. “It’ll just soak right through my shirt.”
“Doesn’t matter!” his voice was frantic. “they are opening the door. Put your shirt on and stop staring at me.”
Pulling my shirt over my head, I forgot all about the chocolate and the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra.
Not only was I not wearing a bra but I wasn’t wearing underwear either. Nope, they were on the floor next to the fridge that Jimi was now standing.
He hadn’t looked down yet, instead his eyes were fixated on Jameson leaning against the counter with no shirt on, completely sticky and smirking.
This couldn’t have looked much worse.
Yep, transcends everything.
Jimi glared towards Jameson. Still not on speaking terms, Jameson offered his own glare. “What the fuck happened in here?”
Nancy walked in setting bags of groceries on the counter while I picked up the whip cream bottle from the floor.
Jameson tried to nonchalantly kick the honey away but their eyes fell to the floor when Jameson once again, slipped on the floor and falling sideways against the stove.
I giggled.
What else was I going to do?
“Never mind—I don’t even want to know.” Jimi shook his head stepping into the kitchen. His foot stuck to the floor when he stepped. “Okay...why is there fucking syrup everywhere? What the hell happened in here?”
By that point, I could hardly breathe I was giggling so much.
Jameson cracked under the pressure joining in with the giggles and ran his sticky hands through his hair, causing it to stick straight up.
“Uh...we...made waffles.” Jameson finally answered holding up a burnt waffle.
“It looks like
a bunch of fucking four-year old girls made waffles.” Jimi replied looking to me for an answer. I couldn’t offer much more than a squeaked giggle snort and eventually a nod.
In the midst of all this, the chocolate had now mixed with the whip cream I was covered in seeping through my tank top. All this did was made it look like I was leaking chocolate milk from the funbags.
Jimi averted his eyes to the floor, away from the chocolate milk, only to see my hot pink bra at his feet.
Let me rephrase my previous statement, this could look worse.
Nancy looked down when Jimi finally chuckled. “Clean this mess up.” He was still laughing when he walked away.
“Jameson, my goodness, can’t you keep your hands off poor Sway for one morning.” Nancy chided pushing his shoulder and shaking her head slowly as though she was thoroughly disappointed in her son. “Here Sway—I’m sorry my son has no control.” She apologized handing me my bra and then looked back at Jameson. “Clean this up, Jameson.”
Tossing a towel his direction, she noticed his hip.
I giggled again when she grabbed him to get a better look. The tattoo was low enough that you couldn’t see it ordinarily when he didn’t have a shirt on but his shorts were unbuttoned and hanging rather low on his hips revealing the chiseled curve.
So there in plain view, running vertically up the cut line of his hip, were his tattoos on display for his mother.
Nancy shook her head again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with these kids.” She mumbled mostly to herself. “I really hope you two get married someday since you can’t stop humping in my house and branding yourself with each other’s names.” She slapped him on the chest. “Clean up.”
“Yes, mom,” Jameson laughed and started cleaning up.
I reached for another towel to assist when Jameson leaned down near my ear. “Did my mom just say hump and marriage in the same sentence?”
“Yep,”
While we were laughing we overheard Jimi on the phone with Alley. “What do you mean he drew a dick on the wall...you mean like a man dick...Christ, I swear, these kids are not mine.”
On Tuesday night, we snuck out Charlotte to watch Justin and Tyler test sprint cars. It was a change from the sticky sweet day mostly because we were clothed. I had the biggest bruise sprawled across my hip from where I fell from the counter but other than that, the day was still providing laughs for us whenever we recalled Jimi’s reaction.
