He mumbled against my lips, but I was too far gone to understand what he was saying. His fingers found my clit and flicked the small bud. “Come for me, Frankie.”
His hips thrust fast, and I frantically moved my body up and down to match his rhythm. Brooks thrusted one more time then froze as his body shook beneath me as if he was electrified by my touch.
His finger moved a fraction of an inch, and I exploded around him. His arms tightened around me, and he filled my pussy with his cum while I soared on the high of his touch.
His lips moved lazily against mine, and I settled my body into his lap. “Does that classify as my break?” I whispered.
“If you want to do that every day on your break, doll, I’m more than open to that.”
I rested my head on his shoulder and sighed. “We do that every day, I’m going to need a regular break and then a nap break.”
“Doable,” he chuckled.
“Brooks,” I called.
“Yeah, doll?”
“Everything's changed, right?” I don’t know why that terrified me so much. I liked where Brooks and I were, but I wasn’t sure about bringing the rest of the world into knowing about us.
“It all changed the day you came to work for Cummings Racing.”
And he was right. I may not have known just how much my life changed that day, but looking back now, I could really see how different everything was. “And you’re okay with that?” I whispered.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” His arms wrapped tightly around me, and he pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “Now jump up and get dressed. As much as I want to shout to the world you’re mine, I don’t want them finding out when my dick is buried inside of you.”
“And that is why we get along so well.” I slid off his lap and grabbed my pants off the floor.
“And why is that?”
I grinned and pulled my pants on. “Because I was thinking the same thing. I know everyone is going to find out about us, but perhaps they can find out when we didn’t just have sex.”
Brooks stood and pulled his pants up. “Great minds think alike, doll.”
We both got our clothes on, and I was about to walk back to the shop when he pulled me into his arms and gave me one last kiss. “Come over tonight?”
“Only because you asked so nicely.” I slipped out of his office and came face to face with Brooks’ dad.
“About fucking time,” he growled. He pushed past me without another glance and walked into Brooks’ office.
“How long was he here for?” I asked Harlyn. I had just possibly fucked Brooks while his dad was standing not even twenty feet away.
“Uh, about three minutes ago. He really wasn’t waiting that long, though it felt like an eternity because all he did was scowl at me the whole time.”
I guess that was a small miracle. “I’ll just, uh…get back to work.”
Harlyn gave me a knowing look and nodded.
She knew. Lord have mercy, she totally knew what Brooks and I had just been doing.
Shoot me now.
I had a feeling a whole pile of shit was about to hit the fan between everyone finding out about Brooks and me and his dad storming into his office.
Welcome back to reality, Frankie.
*
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brooks
“What are you doing here?”
“Trying to do some fucking work, unlike you.” Dad sat down on the chair opposite me and kicked his feet up on my desk. “Unless you call banging your pit crew work.”
I didn’t need this bullshit. My lawyer had been talking to my dad so I didn’t have to deal with it. I was going to need to get a restraining order against the fucker if I wanted him to stay away. “I haven’t heard anything from my lawyer since we counter-offered so I’m really not sure why you’re here.”
“I can’t come talk to my son?”
He never came to talk to me before unless it was to bitch at me for something, so I knew that he was full of shit. “I don’t think we really have anything to talk about, but go for it.”
“How is your mother?”
As if he cared. “She’s fine.”
She was actually doing better than fine. Ever since Susan had been staying with her, she had only had the one episode when I was at the Sundown Nationals. I didn’t want to get too optimistic, but I had a hunch that the way to prevent her episodes from happening was to have her in a set routine with the same people day in and day out. When Dad had been taking care of her, he constantly had new nurses in everyday and was taking her to every doctor who made an empty promise that they could fix her.
“She must be cramping your style a little bit, though.”
“I’m thirty-one years old, Dad. Not fifteen. Having style isn’t really a priority for me. Mom is my priority.”
He hitched his thumb toward the shop. “And Legs.”
“She has a name,” I growled.
A sly smile spread across his lips. “A name that I think you know rather well.”
I stood up and looked down at him. “I’m really not sure why you’re here other than to stick your nose into business that has nothing to do with you. You left Mom, you aren’t a part of Cummings Racing anymore, and you only give a fuck about yourself.”
“You were right about two of those things, Son. I don’t want your mother anymore, and if you don’t take care of yourself first, then who will? So yeah, I only give a fuck about myself. It’s something I tried to teach you, but obviously, it didn’t sink in.” He stood up and rested his hands on my desk. “But I have a little newsflash for you. I’m still a part of Cummings Racing. You may have founded this pinky dinky ass team, but you did it off of the name I made for you. I’m not giving up my name to you. Cummings Racing is mine.”
I should have known he wasn’t going to make any of this easy. “I didn’t get anything from your name other than years of having to prove myself. We may have the same last name, but that’s about the only similarities you and I share.”
“Right. Like I’m going to believe that you don’t get any notoriety from my name. That just because you’re a good racer that your name is on the lips of every race fan in America. You have what you have because of me. You may think you can kick me out of the race team, but you can’t. Cummings Racing and anything else you use my fucking name on is mine.”
“So you’re worried about your fucking name, huh?”
“Yes,” he growled. “I did all the work to make it the name it is, and you’re not going to make money off it.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “The money I make is from sponsorships and fucking investments. You’re dumb if you think this team is making me money. Any money that comes through that door funds the car and barely pays everyone's paychecks. You want that?”
“You’re not using my name anymore.”
He was dead set on me not using his name anymore? Well, he was going to see how much his last name meant to me. “I’ll have my lawyer be in touch with you.”
“That’s it?” He spat. “You’re back to being a sissy and talking through your God damn lawyer?”
“There’s no point in you and me talking. I already said the only thing we have in common is our last name. There isn’t anything you and I need to discuss.”
“You’re not taking Cummings Racing from me.”
I nodded. “You’re right, I’m not. My lawyer will be in touch with you by the end of the day.”
“What bullshit do you have up your sleeve, Brooks? There isn’t some loophole you can find that is going to get rid of me. Cummings Racing is mine,” he thundered.
The office door opened. “Everything okay in here?” Roc nonchalantly looked between Dad and me.
“Dad was just leaving.” I crossed my arms over my chest and nodded toward the door.
“This is far from over, Brooks.” He stormed out the door, ramming his shoulder into Roc’s chest. “I’m gonna make you my bitch,” he growled to
him.
Roc doubled over with laughter and slapped his hand on his leg. “Did he really just say I was going to be his bitch?”
“Have a lovely day, Mr. Cummings,” Harlyn called. She would try to be the calming effect to my dad. Nothing was going to calm him, though. Even what I had planned was going to piss him off even more.
Roc stood up straight and ran his hand down his face. “Your dad is the biggest asshole I have ever met.”
That was an understatement. “You busy right now, Roc?”
“I should probably be preparing to be your dad’s bitch, but I think I got some time I can spare.”
“Shut the door and have a seat. I have a possible business proposition I want to run by you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Frankie
“Hi, darlin’.”
“Hey, Susan. I brought dinner.” I held up the bag and smiled.
“Did you bring Brooks with you too?” She leaned to the left and right to see if Brooks was with me.
“Uh, no. I figured he would be home. He told me I should come over tonight.”
She stood to the side and opened the door wide. “Well, I’m sure he’s on the way home if he told you to come over. Come on in.”
I stepped through the door and kicked off my shoes. “I guess I should have called before I came over, but I just figured he would be here.”
Susan led the way to the kitchen and flipped on the lights. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You need any help making dinner? Christy is busy binge watching some show on the TV, but I can help.”
“It’s Dexter,” she called from the living room. “I can’t stop watching because I need to know if he ever gets caught. I hope he doesn’t because he’s a good guy, just with killer tendencies.”
Susan cackled and grabbed the bag from my hand. “Sounds like my second husband.” She unloaded the bag and surveyed what I had brought. “Tacos?”
“That okay?” I hadn’t known what to bring, but I figured ninety-nine percent of the world liked tacos. At least, in my head they did.
“What are we having?” Christy called.
“Tacos, but only if you can rip yourself away from that damn TV to come eat when they are ready.” Susan opened a cabinet and pulled out a fry pan. “And no, we are not eating in front of the TV.”
Christy grumbled, but she agreed that she could come eat when everything was done.
Susan and I chatted while I cooked the meat, and she chopped up the tomatoes and onions. I kept an eye on the clock thinking Brooks would be home any minute, but he didn’t show up by the time dinner was ready.
“I changed my mind,” Christy called. “I’m not turning this off. I have about a thirty second window when the opening credits play to come get a plate.”
Susan rolled her eyes but grabbed a plate and set two shells on it. “That’s all I’m doing for her.” She held the plate out and waited.
Christy came jogging into the kitchen and snatched the plate out of her hand. “You couldn’t even put meat in them?” She scoffed. “What am I paying you for?”
I waited for Susan to freak out and leave, but all she did was shrug. “Who the hell knows, but my bank account thanks you.”
“In that case, remind me to tell Brooks to give you raise.” They both laughed like they were the funniest people in the world, and I couldn’t help but smile at them.
We all loaded our plates full of food and settled in the living room.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see that Brooks had messaged me. Caught up at the shop. Not sure when I’ll be home.
Uh, okay. I’m just hanging out with your mom and Susan. Not exactly the normal exciting evening of a twenty-seven-year-old, but I was having a good time.
Wait for me till I get home?
Not like I had anywhere else to go. Possibly. I do have to be to work super early in the morning. My boss is kind of a dick.
You shouldn’t call Roc a dick.
Ha. Ha.
Just wait for me.
Maybe. I tossed my phone on the couch next to me and took a bite of my taco.
“Was that Brooks?” Christy asked.
I nodded and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Yeah. He was doing something at the shop and will be a little bit.”
My phone lit up, and I was surprised to see he had texted me again. You make dinner?
For your mom and Susan.
Save some for me?
I don’t know. I saw how much lasagna your mom and Susan ate last night. I can’t make any promises.
Save some for me, and I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get home.
Promises, promises.
Gotta run. Miss you.
It felt weird to type my reply, but it also felt right. Miss you too.
“Look at that smile. I think her face is going to crack.”
My head snapped up, and I glared at Susan. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Susan laughed. “Well, yeah. Now you look like you’re ready to kill a pack of puppies who piddled on your shoe.”
“I bet that is the sass Brooks told us about,” Christy added.
“I do not have sass.”
“Riiiight,” Susan drawled. “And I have purple hair.”
“Purple would look good on you.” Christy set her plate on the coffee table and motioned for us to hush. “Now zip it so I can hear what is going on.”
Susan stuck her tongue out at me, and I gave her the bird.
“Sass,” she whispered.
I may not be spending the night with Brooks, but I was hanging out with Susan and Christy who were more than entertaining. I finished my food and gathered the empty plates. “You guys want ice cream?”
“I know they say there aren’t dumb questions, but I have to tell you, Frankie, that was a dumb question. Bring the whole damn container and three spoons.”
“I have to say, Susan, I grew up with three older brothers, and I think you could eat them under the table if you wanted to.”
Susan smirked. “I have four brothers and three sons and a daughter. I know how to eat before all of the food gets eaten by someone else.”
“You have kids?” I know I had just met Susan yesterday, but it felt like I had known her all of my life. The fact I didn’t know she had kids surprised me. She was with Christy all of the time, so I wondered when she had time to spend with her family.
“Yep. 24, 26, 28, and 30. Delaney is my baby. I waited six years to have my girl.” Susan beamed with pride. “Though my boys aren’t anything to snuff at.”
“You were a busy lady,” I laughed. Susan was around the same age as my parents would have been if they were still alive. Maybe that was why I loved spending time with her and Christy. They let me feel like I still had my mom around.
“Yes, well, I was until they moved away. The two oldest boys joined the Army right out of high school, then the younger boy became a doctor in California. My Delaney is the only one who still lives in Leeds Square.”
“I’d love to meet her sometime.”
“She comes and visits me on the weekends. The next time you and Brooks aren’t running off to some race, we’ll have to plan something.”
“Would you two, shush,” Christy scolded. “You two are chattering like a bunch of school girls while Dexter is trying to figure his shit out.”
Susan rolled her eyes and whispered, “She doesn’t get any ice cream.”
“I heard that,” Christy mumbled.
I stacked the dirty dishes in the sink, made Brooks a plate, and cleaned up the kitchen while Christy watched Dexter and Susan worked on a blanket she was crocheting.
After we had ice cream and watched two episodes of Dexter, Brooks still wasn’t there, and I felt my eyelids get heavy. I needed to be up early to head to the Meyer Royal, and with Brooks taking forever to get home, I snuggled into the couch and closed my eyes. A little nap wouldn’t hurt.
*
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brooks
I was exhausted and all I wanted to do was eat and fall into bed.
That all changed when I walked into the living room and saw Frankie curled up on the couch with her hands tucked under her head. She was like an angel sent into my life to help me breath, but I didn’t know what I had done to deserve her.
After sitting with Roc and my lawyer for hours, we were able to figure out just how we were going to give my dad exactly what he wanted without sacrificing what I had built. Then it was another two hours to finally get the stubborn asshole to agree.
He tried to argue the fact that he was getting the short end of the stick, but he wasn’t. He wanted his name back, and that was exactly what I had given him.
“Are you watching me sleep? Not creepy at all,” Frankie whispered.
“Are you pretending to sleep so you don’t have to see me? Not sly at all,” I countered.
“Do I get to add sly to the unfavorable words that describe me?” She stretched out her legs and arms and yawned. “Bitchy, sassy, feisty, and sly.”
“I like all of them.”
“I think there might be something wrong with you if you like my bitchiness.”
I grabbed her hand and pulled her off the couch. She fell into my arms and rested her head on my shoulder. “You just know what you want and you’re not afraid to ask for it, doll.”
She sighed and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Also known as being a bitch,” she sighed.
I pressed a kiss to her temple. “You save me dinner?”
She nodded and threaded her fingers with mine. “Come with me. I managed to make you a plate before your mom and Susan ate it all.”
I sat down at the kitchen island while she grabbed a plate out of the fridge, a couple of small containers, and set the plate in the microwave. “I was going to assemble the tacos, but then I figured the shells would get all nasty.” She opened a sandwich baggie next to the microwave and pulled out three hard taco shells. “I probably put too much thought into it, but soggy tacos sounded nasty to me.”
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