“You got a seatbelt in this thing?”
I laugh. “You don’t need a seatbelt.”
You’re probably wondering how I got her into my side-by-side with me, aren’t you?
Easy. Gave her more drinks after she covered herself in Ninja Turtle Band-Aids.
Panic widens her eyes. “Uh, yeah, I do, actually.”
“Nope.” She’s just drunk enough she doesn’t realize she’s sitting on the seatbelts. “Completely safe.”
She shrugs, trusting me completely. “Okay. So now what? Are we going out there?” She motions to the motocross track behind the shop.
It takes me a minute. I can’t believe this chick. “I’m kidding. Why the hell would you get in this with me without a seatbelt?”
Her mouth opens, then closes. “I don’t know. You said—”
I shake my head and start the side-by-side. “Don’t listen to me.”
“Fine.” She puts on the helmet that I gave her, placing her beer between her legs. “Don’t kill me.”
I’m jealous of a glass bottle. “I’ll try not to.”
Is it dangerous to have her in the side-by-side? Maybe. Okay, probably. We’re trying to jump it over motocross jumps. Completely fucking stupid. She doesn’t care. Her infectious laughter floats through the machine along with her hair.
It’s whipping around with the subtle winds and into my mouth. She has a lot of fucking hair, that’s for sure.
At some point and I’m not sure how, okay, I know how, but whatever, Scarlet ends up on my lap because Auden wants to drive and there are only two seats.
Let me ask you a question. Give me your honest opinion. Would it be wrong to grind my erection into her ass?
She needs to know the effect she has on me.
Too much?
Okay. I won’t.
I clearly don’t listen.
Probably because Scarlet is on my lap and with every movement of the vehicle, I can feel her muscles shifting and tensing against my thighs.
Every time we hit a bump or turn a corner, her bony ass drags with exaggeration over my lap—and my dick. The small amount of fabric provided by my board shorts and her bikini bottoms is the only barriers between my cock and Scarlet Rose’s ass.
She notices, immediately and glances back at me, but says nothing. I don’t either. I do know I don’t want her to move. I want her to move, just not off me.
Or my cock.
Especially my cock.
She doesn’t move. Not an inch. She freezes, all rigid and quiet. Her back is slightly arched as she holds her breath. She feels it. She feels me.
What the fuck am I doing?
Oh, my God, did she just grind on me?
She does. The motion is small, teasing, but enough, and I’m starting to sweat because she’s grinding on my junk.
I lift my hands, gripping her hips and raise my hips up. She quivers under my touch, practically melting into my chest. Sighing deeply, I can feel the tension drain from my body in the rhythmic pushing and pulling of her back against my chest.
My fingers dip to the inside of her bare thigh. What’s wrong with wanting to give the girl a little bit of pleasure, right?
Right. She’s been working hard this week. Maybe if I get her off, she’ll help me out?
Her breath hitches and I stop before I reach the hem of her bikini, afraid I pushed this moment somewhere she didn’t want it to go. “I can’t,” she whispers, clasping her hand over mine.
I shudder, not wanting to stop. “Why not?”
My nose is near her ear, all tangled up in her hair as I pant through parted lips.
She goes limp against me and I grip her hips harder, my cock still nestled between her ass cheeks. I lift my hips, pushing and pulling hers against mine.
Auden brings the side-by-side to an erupt halt, jumps out and starts yelling at Roan who jumped over the top of us on his dirt bike. I don’t pay any mind to what they’re arguing about, just that I’m seconds away from blowing my load in my board shorts and hoping it happens.
It doesn’t. Why would it?
Scarlet jumps off my lap. “I’m hungry. Let’s go have some of that salsa Roan made!”
“Fuck the salsa!” I shout back, but she ignores me.
And then she’s running across the track toward the house.
Fuck my life.
I look down at my junk. “Dude, I’m sorry.”
I wait five minutes before I wander back to the house, half tempted to call it a night and pass out on couch, or shower at this point but I don’t.
When I’m back at the house, Scarlet’s standing next to a group of guys. It’s certainly not unheard of for people to be here who I don’t know.
It’s also not surprising when local motocross guys show up. Most of them I tolerate, but I can’t say I’m friends with them. They use us for our parties and what we can do for them.
What pisses me off is when I see them handing her a joint. What a bunch of fuckers.
I have no problem with people smoking weed. It’s done around this house daily but not by me.
I don’t do drugs. Of any kind. I told you about Vicodin. But that’s not entirely why. Rhya was a good part of it, but it comes from adrenaline. I get my high on a bike. I don’t need drugs for that. I abuse alcohol enough. I don’t need to combine it with drugs.
Roan’s another reason. Not so long ago after a series of injuries, he found himself addicted to codeine for a good year. After seeing him struggle with it, and Rhya, I don’t even think about it. I know my personality enough that if I start, I won’t be able to stop.
Scarlet declines the joint, shaking her head. “No thanks.”
I like her more.
I sit down in a lounge chair next to the pool, watching her interactions with the guys, them all drooling over her and contemplating why the fuck she keeps turning me down. She says she can’t. She says she’ll get fired. Surely Willa doesn’t give two shits about who we fuck, so why would she care if I have a little fun with our assistant?
There I am, staring at Scarlet and that jerk off she’s talking to when Auden finds me, knocking into my shoulder. “That chick over there’s asking about you.”
I don’t even look. “Not tonight.”
“Dude, she’s a model for Victoria’s Secret.”
“I don’t care,” I mumble, taking the drink he hands me. I look at it, looks to be something clear. I take a drink and enjoy the burn it gives me.
I’m not going to tell Auden, but who’s here tonight holds no interest to me. There’s only one chick who matters, and she’s playing me. I know it.
Tossing the cup aside when I’m finished, I make my way over to the bar where Scarlet’s standing with the group of motocross racers.
She smiles when I step behind the bar. “Are you going to make me a drink?”
I smile, too, and then take my sunglasses back she’s had most of the night. I never let anyone wear them so I have no idea why I’ve been letting her. “Sure, I’ll make you one.”
Scarlet moves from her place at the bar, to behind it with me. “What are you going to make me?”
Our shoulders touch. “Heartbreaker.”
She snorts. “How fitting.”
I show her how to make the drink, and then a few others.
“Why is this hot shot making you work, honey?” one of the motocross shits asks Scarlet.
I down a shot she places in front of me. I don’t say anything. I’m waiting for her reply.
Scarlet’s eyes dart from mine to the guy. I know him. His name is Brian, and he’s a complete tool. “I work for him, actually. He was just showing me a few drinks.”
Do you see the way my eyes flicker to his? Do you see the nameless emotion in hers?
“What do you want, man?” I’m not the jealous type. Okay, partially a lie. “You wanting a drink?”
He has one in his hand so I know that’s not the case. I know what Brian wants from Scarlet, but I’m curious if he has the balls to ask her, considering this is my house, and this girl is standing next to me.
He says nothing to me, but strikes up a conversation with Scarlet about the Band-Aids. “What happened to you?”
I down yet another shot of whatever is in front of me as Scarlet inspects her arms and leg with the Band-Aids covering them. “Oh, those. I kissed a cactus.”
“Ah, honey, I can think of something a lot softer for you to kiss.”
I slam my shot glass. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“What?” Brian laughs, clearly caught off guard.
Do you see the way my jaw flexes and my eyebrows raise, a smile gracing my lips, but it’s certainly not from amusement, is it?
“You heard me.” There’s absolutely no humor in my tone this time. “Leave.”
Brian snorts and brings his drink to his lips. “Yeah, right man. Roan invited me.”
“Well I don’t see Roan, and this is my house too. So I say you get the fuck on and leave.” I place both hands on the bar, my fingers gripping the edges of the worn wood. “You’d best get out before I show you what a mouth full of my fist tastes like.”
Too much? I don’t think so. Look at Scarlet for me. Is she impressed or scared?
Brian raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Is he that dumb?
“Fuckin’ right, I’m serious.” I wave toward the sliding glass doors. “Get out.”
Reluctantly, Brian leaves, and Scarlet’s staring at me like I’ve grown another head. If only she realized I’m thinking with the other one tonight.
She presses her lips together, then cracks a smile. “Do you have anger issues?”
“Sometimes.” I shrug and then notice another group of guys coming outside and smile at the one I know. “Hey, Ryder.”
He comes over to me, and his friends move toward Tiller and Auden over by the pool now.
Ryder Christensen is actually a dirt car racer. Mostly USAC (United States Auto Club). I met him at the Playboy Mansion prior to the X Games two years ago, and the dude’s a pretty cool role model if you ask me. Just plain nuttier than hell, he’s crazy enough to try anything we say on a dirt bike, though he comes from racing cars, and I dig that.
I introduce him to Scarlet, hand him drink after drink and before long, we’re back on the motocross track. That’s when I see the kid who came in with him is on my bike. I usually don’t care who rides my bikes. The ones I have at the house. My race bike is a different story. I won’t even let anyone else sit on it.
You think I’m possessive about a girl who won’t sleep with me, I’m worse with my bike.
“Who is that kid?” I ask Ryder when the kid lands a Shaolin backflip.
“Lane Riley,” Ryder tells me. “He's a fucking badass, isn't he? He’s fucking thirteen years old and already won a pro motocross race at Red Bud.”
“What a douche,” I grumble, annoyed this kid’s showing me up tonight. “How the hell did he land that fuckin thing?”
Ryder laughs and nudges Scarlet who to my joy, hasn’t left my side all night. “Watch this, he’s about to show up this kid.”
Scarlet laughs but knows what I’m about to do when I get my other bike out. I don’t waste any time and do a series of flips, a cliffhanger, a dead body, couple fender grabs, a tsunami, but I end with a 360 spin and finally, a bike flip.
Everyone at the party is cheering because while I can show up pretty much anyone on a track, Tiller was out there with me doing each stunt right after me to put on a show under the lights.
The crowd around us cheers, Lane bows to me, and I ride up to Scarlet who’s grinning, pink cheeked, her hair tamed under Tiller’s baseball hat he was wearing earlier. I give a head nod. “Hey.”
She puts a hand on her hip, drinking a beer with the other. “I hate to say it, but that was impressive.”
I lean my elbows on the handlebars. “Why do you hate to say it?”
“Because you could have killed yourself.”
“Would you be sad?”
“Sure.”
“Why, because then you wouldn’t be able to have sex with me?”
“Oh my God.” She rolls her eyes and begins to walk away from me.
I’m not having it, so I ride up next to her, grab a handful of front brake, and then stop, causing the back tires to raise off the ground. “Come in the hot tub with me.”
She downs the rest of her beer. “Okay.”
Well, Christ, that was easy. Maybe she’s impressed enough she’ll have sex with me now.
“SO?” I SCOOT closer to her, bringing her on my lap. She’s drunk, and now I’m having second thoughts because the only reason she’s letting me put her on my lap in the hot tub is because she’s drunk. Intoxicated. As is, not thinking clearly. “You’re pretty lit, aren’t you?”
She takes my face in her palms, sharing my breath and making me taste her words, “Why do you care if I’m drunk. . . star boy?”
“Because I’m pretty sure, in your current state, I could just take advantage of you right now and you wouldn’t remember it in the morning.”
“Go ahead. But I’m not the one who won’t remember. It’s you.” What’s she talking about? Her grin takes over, my eyes drifting to her nipples and the hard-puckered nubs I so desperately want in my mouth. “If you’re up for the challenge.”
I spin her around so she’s sitting on the bench in the hot tub, then I’m on my knees between her legs like we were in the kitchen earlier.
Her legs wrap around my waist, squeezing, her hands on my shoulders. Heat spreads throughout my body like a jolt of electricity. Looking at her now, she’d mind if I took advantage and I can’t do that to her.
And then she’s kissing me, giving me what I need as her mouth moves over mine. I know it’s what she wants, but we know she shouldn’t have. It’s tentative at first, gently parted lips and a slow, gradual build before my tongue sweeps over the seam of her lips. She tastes like peaches and whiskey, sweet and sinful all in one.
I knew looking at Scarlet she’d be an amazing kisser. Her kisses are alive as she is, sweet and savoring, like sweet tea on a hot day, never quite enough, but just enough to satisfy the tongue once she gives you a taste. It’s not enough because I want so much more. I never want it to end.
I move my mouth to her neck, and she shivers under my hands, slow kisses over her sun-kissed and salty skin, heating it to degrees the sun can never reach. Holding her against the side of the hot tub, I’m in complete control, but then again, I’m not. She is.
I pull back, watching her reaction. “I feel bad for you,” I say when she’s staring at me, maybe deciding what happens next.
She touches her fingertips to her lips. “Why?” Her eyes find mine, and they seem honest, pure to the heart.
“Because in the morning, when you’re not drunk, you’re not going to remember any of this.”
“No.” She shakes her head, her voice a soft murmur. “I’ll remember this, tonight. All of it.” She touches my cheek. “Will you, though?”
Why does she keep saying things like that? Does she honestly think I could ever forget what she’s making me feel?