Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) (15 page)

“Enzo found out about us,” I say softly, “Someone sent him
those pictures. He got them just before the race started. I found out too late
to stop him. Honestly, baby, I tried to talk him out of racing. I knew he
wouldn’t be able to control himself if you got too close. You have to know I
did everything I could.”

“Shit,” Harrison growls.

“That’s why he went after you,” I tell him, “That’s why you
both almost got killed. And he told my dad before I could stop him. I just came
from talking to them both in his room.”

“Your father knows too?” Harrison asks.

I nod silently, letting the dire nature of our situation
sink in.

“They told you not to see me again,” Harrison says, “That’s
it, isn’t it?”

“That’s exactly it, yes,” I tell him.

“And yet...here you are,” he continues, “So, what does that
mean, Siena? What’s our next move here?”

“It means that I’m...I’m at a loss,” I tell him, “I have no
idea what I’m doing, Harrison. All I know is that today, the two people I care
about most in the world were put in grave danger because I don’t know how to
make a goddamn decision. And I’m not OK with that. This can’t go on, whatever
feud there is between you and Enzo. But whatever I do next, I’m going to end up
hurting someone I love. Hell, I’ve already done that. I’ve hurt all of you,
everyone I care about. I just don’t understand why I keep fucking everything
up. ”

“Don’t say that,” Harrison says, resting his hand on my
cheek, “You’re not some inconsiderate fuck up, Siena. You’re the most
brilliant, compassionate, responsible person I’ve ever met. You live for the
people you love, everyone can see that. Whatever you decide you want going
forward, just remember—only you can decide what to do next. Not me. Not your
brother or your father. It’s your life to lead.”

“But Harrison,” I tell him, “The life I want to lead...is
ours. Not just mine. I need you to help me, here. I need us to come to a
decision together.”

“Is that really what you want, Siena?”

“Yes,” I tell him, “Like it or not, you’re on my team now. I
need someone else to be on this crazy ride with me. And I need it to be you.”

“I...I’m so glad...” Harrison trails off.

“Is that how you feel too?” I ask, taking his big hand in
mine, “Do you want to come at this together Harrison, as a team?”

“It could ruin you, a scandal like this,” he says.

“It could ruin you too,” I remind him, “But it could also be
the one thing worth dashing our careers for. Don’t you think so?”

“Oh, I certainly do think so,” Harrison grins, “I don’t
quite know if I’m the get married and settle down type—”

“I’m not asking you to be,” I tell him, “I’m not asking you
to throw in the towel, resign, any of that. All I’m asking is that you stand
beside me. Can you do that, Harrison?”

“It’s all I’ve wanted to do from the start,” he says, “I’d
be proud to be yours, Siena. Proud for the world to know.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” I smile.

“It’s going to hurt like a bitch when the rest of the world
finds out,” Harrison tells me, stroking my hand with his thumb.

“Not if we do it on our own terms,” I say hopefully.

“Even then,” he insists, “The media can be ruthless. You
know that. When my dad started to lose control of his life, they were
merciless. I’m sure they’d give me the same treatment, should this get out of
hand.”

“Then we’ll make sure it doesn’t,” I tell him, leaning in
close to his bedside. My curls fall down over my shoulders, brushing against
the crisp white sheets.

“And your family?” Harrison asks.

“They have to learn to respect me as a person,” I insist,
“It doesn’t surprise me that they’ve never learned, to be honest. I’ve never
demanded it of them. I’ve always done what they’ve asked and required of me.
I’ve never opposed them, never told them that they’re wrong. Of course they
don’t know what to do with me, now that I’m standing up for what I really want.
But they’ll learn. They have to learn. I just hope...I just hope it doesn’t
come too late.”

“For your father, you mean?” Harrison asks.

“Yes,” I say softly, feeling the hot prick of salty tears
once more, “If he passed away furious with me...I don’t know what I’d...”

“Hey, hey—” Harrison says, reaching up to brush away my
sudden tears, “That’s not going to happen, baby. Come here,” he says, patting
the hospital bed beside him.

“Really?” I laugh through crying.

“Sure,” he says, “No better medicine than being in each
others’ arms, right?”

I kick off my race day boots and gingerly lower myself onto
the bed beside Harrison. I settle into the crook of his arm, curling up against
that hard chest of his. Even here, in this sterile and harsh setting, I can’t help
but let my hands run over his firm pecs, his sculpted biceps. The power his
body has over mine, that mine has over his, can’t be muted by even the most
extreme circumstances. I rest my cheek against the tattooed skin of his
breastplate, listening to his steady, even heartbeat.

“It’s on me now,” he says, his chest vibrating with every
word.

“What do you mean?” I ask, throwing an arm across his
defined abs.

“You’ve done your part, trying to convince your family that
I’m not a scumbag,” he goes on, “But from me, all they have is evidence to the
contrary. I need to step up and be your partner in this. I’ve never let anyone
fight my battles for me. Why should I start now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“If we want this to work, if we want your family to accept
your being with me, then I need to show them who I really am. All your family
knows of me is that I’m the son of an alcoholic asshole, a hot shot racer who
came out of nowhere, and the guy who’s trying to take the championship from
your brother and steal Ferrelli’s crown princess from under their noses.”

“Watch who you’re calling princess,” I say.

“You know what I mean,” he replies, “What I’m saying is that
I need to...God, I hate to even say this out loud...I need to play nice with
your brother, be the bigger man, no offense.”

I let an uncomprehending laugh slip out of my mouth, “Do you
honestly think you’re capable of that?” I ask.

“For you, I would try anything,” Harrison tells me, “I have
to go to your father and brother. I have to tell them, somehow, that I’m not
what they see me as. They have to know that I’m a good person. Beneath the
boozing and the smoking and the unfortunate chain of girlfriends in my wake is
a man who wants to do the right thing. You can see that, Siena. Now I just need
to make them see it, too.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” I ask.

“I managed to charm you, didn’t I?” he grins, “Maybe all the
Ferrelli’s will be susceptible, in the end.”

“You didn’t charm me, asshole,” I smile back, “You were just
yourself. I fell in love with you, but that doesn’t mean I tripped.”

“Tell me what I have to do to get them to like me,” Harrison
urges, “Coach me. Help me to make them see.”

“And then, once they’re convinced, we’ll go public?” I ask.

“I think we’d better,” Harrison says, “But if your family’s
already won over, it won’t be a scandal. It’ll be a human interest story.”

“Harrison Davies, you are full of surprises,” I say, a broad
grin spreading across my face, “You’re really willing to put on a happy face
and make nice with my brother?”

“I’ll do my best,” he says, “That’s all I can promise.”

“Then that’s all I’ll ask,” I tell him, bringing my hand to
his sharp, stubbly chin.

He turns his head and plants his full lips against my palm.
A snaking spark of sensation runs up my arm at once. Even the most chaste of kisses
from Harrison sets me off. I turn my body toward his, pulling myself up until
I’m looking straight into his gorgeous blue eyes. How I could ever tear this
man from my life is beyond me.

“I was afraid you’d died,” I whisper, pressing my forehead
to his.

“Are you kidding?” he says gruffly, circling his strong arms
around me, “What business would I have dying with you here? I’ve only just
found you, Siena. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I warn him.

“Fair enough,” he says, “Then how’s this? I’ll love you as
long as I live. That’s something you can hold me to.”

I haven’t a single word of reply for so huge a phrase. The
only thing left to do is kiss him. I run my hands through his sandy blonde
hair, making sure not to graze his stitched-up skin. Slowly, gently, I bring my
lips to his. His mouth meets mine, and we connect as we have so many times
before. How many kisses have we shared in our few short weeks together?
Hundreds? Thousands? And each one feels distinct, new, revolutionary.

A low groan rumbles through his chest as I let my tongue
slide against his. The flavor of him dances across my taste buds, sending deep
pangs of longing rippling through my core. I bear down, kissing him as deeply
as I can.

“Easy Siena,” he breathes, holding tightly onto my hips,
“I’m a little bit busted up, remember.”

“I’ll be careful,” I tell him, bringing my eager lips to his
stubbly throat, “I promise. I just want to make you feel better.”

I close my lips against his neck, and feel his fingers grip
my hips even tighter. My eyes dart toward the hospital room door, but there’s
no one to be seen. Andy promised to keep watch, after all. There’s no one here
but Harrison and me.

“Siena, what are you doing?” he asks as I slip under the
hospital blanket beside him.

“Just relax,” I tell him.

“Will this hurt?” he asks, as I lay my hand against his
thigh.

“Maybe,” I tell him, letting my touch wander up along his
leg.

He keeps those brilliant blue eyes trained on me as my
fingers brush against him, finally finding his manhood. I gasp as I feel that
he’s grown hard just from kissing me. My fingers find their way around the
surprising girth of him.

“You're insatiable,” I whisper, nibbling on his earlobe.
“Here you are in the hospital, and still you can’t wait to have me again.”

“Can you blame me?” he groans, as I work my hand down the
stiffening length of him.

“Not at all,” I say, pivoting on the bed.

I come to standing on my knees above him, keeping everything
below our waists covered by the thick hospital blanket. But I don’t give up my
grip on Harrison's manhood. I let my thumb glance against the tender of tip of
him, feeling a shudder run through his entire body. His hands close around
great fistfuls of bedding as I work him closer and closer to the edge.

“Am I hurting you?” I ask breathlessly, tightening my grip
ever-so-slightly.

“Not at all,” he breathes, reaching for me.

His hands have my jeans unbuttoned in record time, and I
lean over him, steadying myself with one hand as the other strokes him with
abandon. He slips his strong hand down the front of my jeans, pushing aside the
thin fabric of my panties. I stifle a cry as his fingers move against the
wetness of me, sliding up inside of me at once.

We lock eyes as we send each other spinning up into the
dizzying heights of bliss. I bring my lips to his once more, feeling his tongue
slip into my mouth just as his fingers move within me. I want to feel as much
of him as I can, everywhere.

As if reading my thoughts, Harrison moves his hand away and
yanks me toward him. I plant my hands above his shoulders on the bed as he
pulls me against him. My eyes close blissfully as his manhood parts the silky
flesh between my legs, driving up inside of me where I want so badly to feel
him. I lean back, taking him even further inside of me. My fingers bury
themselves in my hair as we move together, slowly and gently. I have to fight
not to let myself get too revved up by every pass. We have to go easy on each
other now. The forced evenness of our lovemaking only serves to turn me on even
more. I would stay here for hours, if I could.

I let my head fall backward as Harrison sinks deeper into
me. Steadying myself on top of him, I force my eyes to focus. I have to keep my
wits about me, even now. My gaze falls upon the far wall, just above the sink.
For the briefest second my eyes linger there, and a bright, brief glare of
light catches my attention. I can’t place the strange sight at first. If I
didn’t know better, I’d think it was...

A camera flash.

I whip my head around wildly and freeze as my gaze locks
onto the most unwelcome sight imaginable. There, framed in the narrow window of
the hospital door, is a face I’ve never seen before: a young man, wearing a
white coat and a broad grin, has a smart phone poised before the glass pane. The
device is pointed straight at us, capturing Harrison and I in the act. For a
moment, I’m too shocked to even move. I can’t take my eyes off the person who’s
been making our lives a living hell for weeks. Stalking us. Setting us up to
crash and burn.

“Siena?” Harrison says, placing a hand on my waist, “Baby,
what—?”

 Scrambling off of Harrison, I jab my finger toward the
door. Harrison’s gaze follows, and his eyes turn to stone. I watch his strong
jaw tighten furiously as he takes in the sight of our blackmailer, here in the
flesh. I can feel his every muscle rallying, ready to go in pursuit of this
horrible person. But I can’t let him do that.

He’s just gone through a terrible wreck. His body is more
fragile than it’s ever been, and any little strain could put him out of even
more races. Right now, this is up to me. I press Harrison’s shoulders back
against the bed, forcing him to sit down as best I can. It isn’t easy, given
the white hot fury pulsing through his every ripped muscle. Hurrying to dress
myself, I come to standing and square my shoulders.

“You stay,” I tell Harrison, turning toward the door, “I’ve
got this.”

As I look on, our personal paparazzo lowers his phone,
looking smugly satisfied. He lifts a hand in a mocking wave, and dares to give
me a little wink. That does it. I take off like a mad woman in pursuit of this douche
bag. All glee drains from his face as I come flying at him, tearing across the
hospital room like a bat out of hell. He disappears from the window, taking off
down the hall. I wrench open the door and swing out into the hallway.

The man is booking it across the linoleum tile, his
smartphone clutched in his greasy paw. His white coat whips behind him like a
cloak. I wonder who he stole it from to get past Andy? At the mouth of the
corridor, I see Harrison’s best friend keeping watch. Our blackmailer must have
told him that he was a doctor. More like a gigantic fraud, not to mention a
criminal.

“Andy!” I shout, racing after the photographer. “Andy, get
him!”

The burly man turns toward the sound of my voice, just in
time to take in the scene unfolding in the hallway. In a second, he
understands. He places himself in the center of the hall, balling his hands
into fists. He’s like a solid brick wall—there’s no way anyone’s getting past
him. Our stalker panics at the sight of Andy, scuttling to a sloppy halt. But
I’m not taking any chances, here. Not with this monster of a person.

I barrel on ahead toward him at full speed, lowering a
shoulder. My entire weight slams into the guy as I tackle him onto the cold
hard tile. His smartphone goes flying out of his grasp as I land on top of him,
pinning his shoulders to the tile. The device slams against the wall,
shattering into a dozen pieces. As the metal and plastic confetti from the broken
phone scatters across the hall, I look down into the face of my own personal
demon for the first time.

He’s just a kid. There’s barely even any peach fuzz on his
baby soft cheeks. I’d guess that he’s about twenty years old, and even that’s a
generous estimate. His tanned skin, brown eyes, and mop of messy curls remind
me more of a boy band member than a conniving blackmailer. The white coat he
sports is clearly too big for him, a shabby disguise at best. I’d almost feel
sorry for the kid if he wasn’t wearing such an ugly, cocky look on his face.

“Who the hell are you?” I demand, as Andy comes running over
to where I’ve got the kid pinned down.

“Just a man who’s trying to do his job,” the youngster
replies. His English is a bit accented, but I can’t place the inflection.
Something European, to be sure.

“You’re not a man,” I all but spit, “You’re just a kid. A
kid who’s in way over his head, I might add. Do you have any idea who you’ve
been messing with, here? What are you doing wrapped up in this bullshit?”

“Enjoying myself quite a bit, at the moment,” he says,
daring to move his hips lustily against me.

I stand up sharply, disgusted. Andy takes the kid by the arm
and wrenches him up to standing, pinning him none-too-gently against the wall.
I stare at him, hands on my hips. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess
not the clobber the kid for his insolence, but I refrain. We’ve already got a
blackmailer on our hands. The last thing we need is an assault charge to really
land us up shit’s creek.

“Who’s this louse?” I hear Harrison ask from down the hall.

I turn and see him making his way slowly toward us, still in
his hospital gown. He’s moving slower than usual, clearly in pain at having
stood up at all. I should have known he wouldn’t sit patiently as this asshole
made a run for it. That’s certainly not in his makeup.

“I’m not entirely sure who he is,” I tell Harrison as he
comes to stand beside me, “Right now, he just looks like some punk ass kid
making trouble for the sake of it.”

“Give me a break,” the boy laughs, “If I was just some punk
ass kid, you’d have no reason to come sprinting after me. Nice tackle, by the
way. Your brother teach you that?”

“Don’t talk about my brother,” I warn him, “Who exactly do
you think you are? You think that stalking people is funny? You think blackmail
is something that the law is going to take lightly?”

“Which law, lady?” he laughs, “Last I checked, we’ve been in
about ten different countries so far on this tournament. Are you really going
to go through all that trouble to get me a slap on the wrist? Because that’s
all I’ll get, and you know it. Those pictures of mine haven’t been published. I
haven’t done anything seriously wrong.”

“You threatened us,” I spit, “You stalked us and tried your
best to intimidate us.”

“Actually, my boss was the one who did most of the
intimidating. I’m just trying to do the job I was hired for. Plain and simple. Surely
you appreciate enterprise? Isn’t that what everyone wants of us millennials
nowadays? You should be proud of me, if anything.”

“Who the hell are you working for?” Harrison asks, taking a
menacing step toward the boy. Even injured, he’s an imposing mountain of a man.

“That’s not a very nice way of asking,” the boy says,
clicking his tongue. I have to place my hand on Harrison’s chest to keep him
from lunging at the blackmailer.

“Are you some kind of gossip blogger? Do you work for of
those lame tabloid sites or something?” I ask.

“Don’t you think your romance would already be public is I
was?” he counters.

“Then what the hell is your deal, mate?” Harrison growls,
“What do you stand to gain from this bullshit?” 

“Just some cash, really,” the boy shrugs, “I’m just a modest
worker, Mr. Davies, looking to make an honest living.”

“Honest?” I scoff.

“You know what I mean,” the kid says.

“If you’re not a reporter,” Harrison goes on, “Are you with
one of the advertisers? One of the teams? Or is this a personal vendetta?”

“Why would I ever tell you that?” the boy laughs, “It’s not
like you’re going to come after me legally. That would be far too much of a
headache for just about zero payoff. I’m not giving up the name of my employer,
so you should just—”

“Harrison!” I scream, as my lover’s fist collides with the
boy’s stomach with a nauseating thud.

“Tell us who you’re working for!” Harrison shouts, cocking
his fist back again.

“You hit me!” the kid moans, gasping for air, held up only
by Andy’s arm.

“You’re gonna get a lot worse than that if you don’t spill,”
Harrison growls.

“That’s enough,” Andy warns, “You’re not doing us any good with
that, Harrison. The kid’s not going to tell us who sent him.”

“Some sensible talk, finally,” the boy sniffs, “Now, would
you mind getting your hands off me, you big lug?”

Andy shoves the photographer away from him, but we keep the
boy nice and penned in between us. I’m not ready to let him walk away, not just
yet. I glance toward Harrison and feel my stomach tighten as I see the look of
shrouded pain on his face. That punch may have felt good to him in the moment,
but he can’t be straining himself too much in his current condition. We don’t
know how bad his injuries really are, after all. Any false move could turn his
wreck into a disaster, even after the fact. He needs to take it easy and leave
this to me—if only I could make that happen.

“I bet we can offer you more money than what you’re getting
now,” I tell the boy, “That is, if you’d be willing to supply us with a name.”

“Siena!” Harrison hisses through gritted teeth, “We’re not
giving him a cent!”

“There’s no way you can offer me more than what I’m raking
in now,” the kid says, observing the shattered pieces of his phones
ambivalently, “Shame I had to lose those photos, though. They would have been a
nice touch.”

“Tell us what you want, then,” I say, “What’s it going to
take for you to destroy those pictures and tell us who you’re working for?”

“You’re delusional,” he tells me, “You’re assuming that I’m
secretly some good guy, looking to do my part for the world. News flash, lady.
In real life, the bad guys come out on top. I’m in this for all the wrong
reasons, and your sense of justice isn’t going to change my mind. So, if you’d
kindly let me get on my way, I’d happily be going right now. Unless, that is,
you have any other imaginary chips you’d like to try and throw at me? Maybe you
can hit me again, give me a couple of black eyes to show off to the rest of the
press?”

I stare wordlessly at the little twerp, appalled. “Go then,”
I tell him, taking a step back.

“What?” Harrison says, “We’re just going to let him walk out
of here? I don’t even get to hit him again?”

“Not today,” I say, “He’s right. There’s nothing we can do
to make him give up a name, or stop what he’s doing. You can’t fix nihilistic
asshole, after all. But know this, kid. We will come out on top here. I don’t
know who you’re working for, or what your boss’s game is, but we’re going to
beat him at it. You just mark my words.”

“Whatever,” the kid says. “See you around,
sexy
weirdos.”

With a sickly smile, he shucks off his stolen coat and lets
it fall to the floor. He whistles a little tune as he turns away from us,
sauntering off down the hallway. He’s right that we can’t go after him right
now, but with his totally illegal stalking and blackmailing, he’s just as
helpless against us as we are against him. Neither side can act yet without bringing
a whole mess of bullshit down on everyone involved.

“I’m so sorry,” Andy groans, shoving a hand through his
hair, “I thought he was an intern or something. I shouldn’t have let him past.”

“You didn’t know,” I say, laying a hand on his arm, “It’s not
like we were exactly making things easier on ourselves in there.”

“I so don’t want to hear about that right now,” Andy
grumbles.

“I can’t believe we let him just walk out of here,” Harrison
says, “That little bitch—”

“Shh...” I say, heading back down the hall, “Let’s at least
talk about this inside, yeah? Did you hurt yourself, throwing that punch?”

“Maybe,” Harrison grumbles, holding onto his side, “But it
was worth it.”

“We’ll see about that,” I say, wrapping an arm around his
waist. He leans into me as we make our way back to his room. Despite the world
of trouble we seem to be stuck in, I’m still so happy to support him, to figure
out a way through this mess together.

One by one, the three of us file into the hospital room. But
before we do anything else, I know there’s one more person I need on this. I
whip out my cell and punch in Bex’s number. She picks up on the first ring,
worried sick after I disappeared from my own little room. I tell her where we
are, and ask her to book it across the hospital as fast as she can. In no time
flat, she slips into Harrison’s hospital room, looking relieved.

“Way to vanish on me, Siena,” she grumbles, “You really
don’t make the whole keeping-watch thing easy, do you?”

“Afraid not,” I say, closing the door behind her, “But I’m
glad you’re here. This is Andy, Harrison’s buddy from McClain. And of course,
you know Harrison Davies.”

“How’s it hanging, boys?” Bex asks, planting a manicured
hand on her hip. How she manages to look gorgeous and put together under
fluorescent lights after a day like today is beyond me.

“I’m married,” Andy blurts out.

“I’m Bex,” my best friend winks, “Now does someone want to
tell me what the hell is going on here?”

“Our blackmailer showed up and caught me in Harrison’s
hospital room,” I tell her, “It was just some punk kid behind the camera.
Clearly, whoever is trying to undermine us didn’t want to get his own hands
dirty. Or her own hands. I have no idea...”