Hard and Fast (21 page)

“It definitely suits how Ty feels about being with Emma Jean right now,” Ty said, shrugging off his heavy camping backpack and dumping it on the ground. The hell with it. They’d get to the site eventually.

Her eyes widened and she made a sound in the back of her throat. “That . . . that. Oh, my. You . . .”

It seemed he wasn’t the only one having trouble finding words. Ty closed the distance between them, took the cooler out of her hand, and set it on the ground. Then he pulled her into his arms with more passion than finesse and took her mouth beneath his.

“I’ve been thinking about your lips all weekend,” he told her, kissing her over and over, hauling her as tightly up against him as he could manage.

Her response was to grip his shoulders and kiss him back, dipping her tongue inside his mouth to flirt with his. They were plain old making out, fast and furious, and Ty wanted to feel more of her, all of her, wanted to bury himself inside her right there on the trail.

He loved that sound, the moment when her breathing shifted, when it went ragged and hot and desperate, the sound that told him he could take and she would give. Glancing around, Ty eyed the nearest tree with a large, wide trunk.

“Turn around,” he told her urgently, popping the button on her jeans and unzipping them. “Walk to that tree.”

“What? Why?” she asked, but she did it, wiping her moist lips and swiveling her hips in a seductive invitation.

Ty followed her, hell, stalking her, and when she reached the tree and started to turn back toward him, her mouth open to question, Ty just took her and pushed her back against the tree trunk, his hand slipping down into her unzipped jeans at the same time he claimed her lips again. He closed his eyes on a rush of lust, the feeling hot and wet in his mouth, just the way she felt beneath his finger when he slid inside her. Her moan sighed softly past his ear, and Ty started tugging her jeans down.

“What are you doing? You can’t be serious,” she said, even as her hands lifted over her head and braced against the bark. She was still wearing her backpack, and it caused her chest to arch out toward him, a temptation too great to pass up.

Ty sucked her nipple through her shirt as he finished shoving her jeans and panties down to her knees.

“Wow, you are serious, aren’t you?” she asked, sounding completely scandalized, yet oh, so turned on.

Raising his head, he said, “Yes, I’m serious.” He used one hand to unzip his own pants and release his erection, and the other to stroke her slick inner thighs.

“Oh, Ty, yes.”

Yes was right. She felt so good wrapping around his fingers, he wanted his cock in there. “Spread your legs for me.”

He loved that Imogen didn’t protest or demur or act like she didn’t want it just as much as he did. She just turned her knees out and dug her nails into his shoulders and waited for him to fill her.

Which he did.

They groaned in mutual pleasure. Ty paused for a split second, to torture himself, then he stroked in and out of her, hard, fast, pounding at her, in her. He felt out of control, desperate, consumed by the need to take her, to make her scream his name in the woods.

Their rhythm was so furious that Imogen’s sounds of pleasure were short, quiet little pants, punctuated by the occasional breakthrough full-on moan when she caught enough breath. It was beautiful against the silence of the trees.

Until they heard a rustling and snapping.

“What was that?” Imogen asked, her eyes flying open. “Oh, my God, is that a bear?”

Shit. Shit. And shit. Ty pulled out of Imogen, zipping her pants up quickly and stepping back away from her. “Worse. It’s people coming down the trail.” Ty tucked his erection in his jeans and winced. “Damn, that sucks.”

“People? People are coming?”

“Yes.” He could hear their voices now. Ty reached out and yanked her off the tree trunk, where she’d looked frozen midfuck, and gave her a quick kiss. “Time to move along, babe.”

Imogen checked her zipper and gave a nervous laugh. “Well, that’s embarrassing. And really disappointing.”

“Tell me about it.” Ty slung his pack over his back and tried not to think about the unsatisfied ache down south. Walking gingerly, he looked around. They were missing something, but between the sex and the sudden stop presatisfaction, his brain was blank.

Wiping her lips, she craned to see down the trail. “Oh, geez, here they come. Where’s the cooler?”

“The cooler. Right.” That was what they were forgetting. Ty had dropped it on the edge of the trail, just before he had marched Imogen up against the tree trunk.

Imogen bent over to pick it up and her backpack slipped over her shoulder, sending her stumbling forward.

“You okay, babe?” He started toward her, but she giggled.

She righted herself and turned around, smiling. “I can’t believe we almost got busted.”

Ty grinned back. “Almost is the important thing. But they’re here, so mum’s the word.”

A man and a woman in their midthirties came enthusiastically trekking up the trail, which reassured Ty that at least if they had gotten busted, it wasn’t by a pack of Boy Scouts or anything. He would have felt terrible if a kid had seen them doing the deed. Of course, he hadn’t given that possibility much thought before he’d started tearing down Imogen’s pants.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Ty said, nodding politely as he stepped aside to let them pass.

They smiled and greeted him. Then the man did a double take.

Uh-oh. Ty braced himself.

“Say, aren’t you Ty McCordle? The number sixty car?”

Ty plastered on a smile. “Why, yes, sir, I am. How are you doing today?”

“Just fine, just fine, thanks.” He shook his head and adjusted his ball cap. “Wow, what a coincidence, you being here and me stumbling on you. You’re a fantastic driver. Been rooting for you all season.”

“Well, thank you, I appreciate it. Hoping to finish out the year strong, but there are some really good cars and drivers out there.”

“True, true.” The man turned to his companion. “Look at this, Lisa, it’s Ty McCordle. Can you believe it?”

Lisa shook her head no rapidly. She looked a little awe-struck.

“What are you doing here? Just hiking and taking in a little R and R?” the man asked.

“Yep.” Ty put his hand on the small of Imogen’s back and rubbed it to reassure her, knowing she had to be thinking if this couple had walked only a touch faster, they might be having a different conversation. Hopefully if he had been caught bare butt, no one would have recognized him, though. He didn’t imagine much of his fan base was familiar with his backside. “How about you?”

“Yep. Me and the wife are on a long weekend. It’s our fifth anniversary this past weekend.”

“Congratulations.”

The man beamed at them. “Thanks. This your girlfriend?”

Ty fought the urge to sigh. He loved and appreciated his fans; he truly did. They made the sport both profitable and a hell of a lot of fun. They kept the energy level high and spurred him on to do the best he could week after week. But there were times when a man wanted some peace and privacy, and this was one of them.

“This is Imogen.” That was a respectable way to avoid the question, because he had no clue how to really answer. He didn’t think they were dating officially yet, but he wanted to be. It just wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with total strangers on the trail. “We’re just doing a quick one-night stay here. I have to get back and plan for Atlanta.”

That effectively diverted the man. “Right, sure, of course. Coming down to the wire, aren’t you?”

“Jim, maybe we ought to let them head on their way,” his wife said, nudging him.

“Right, of course.” The man flushed red. “Well, nice meeting you both. Wow. Ty McCordle.”

“You, too. It’s been a pleasure.” Ty stuck his hand out and shook the man’s firmly.

“Happy Anniversary,” Imogen said to both of them.

They beamed. The wife relaxed a little. “Thanks.” She shot a sly look at Ty, then back to Imogen. “Enjoy your day and
night
.”

The woman might as well have winked at Imogen. Ty felt almost sheepish as he followed Imogen, who smiled and waved, then started up the trail. The couple waved back and continued in the opposite direction.

“Does that happen to you often?” Imogen asked. “People recognizing you?”

“Sometimes.” He had discovered there was no rhyme or reason to when it happened. It had happened in all sorts of different places, with all different age ranges. Stock car racing drew a wide audience.

“Well,” she said. “Given that you are in the public eye and recognized, perhaps we should exercise a little discretion in the future.”

He loved the way she said that—in the future. Implying there would be a future, in her very prim yet, to him, provocative voice.

Ty reached out and swatted her ass. “
Perhaps.
”

Imogen squawked and reached around to try to smack at his hand. “Ingrate. I’m trying to look out for your public image, but if you want to tarnish it, I suppose I can’t stop you.”

Which made him laugh. “No, you can’t stop me. And the only thing I’m going to tarnish is your chastity.”

She shot him a sultry dark-eyed look over her shoulder. “I think you already have.”

“Oh, yeah? Tell me how.” Ty wanted to hear it from her lips, wanted to hear a description of all the things he had done to her.

But she just smiled and said, “I’m not talking about this until we are at our campsite and safely in a tent, where no one can see or hear us.”

He would just have to walk faster, then. “Fair enough,” he told her. “Because I’m planning to pick up where I left off.”

Imogen said, “I’m counting on it.”

Damn it. She was smoking hot as usual, and he couldn’t wait to get her into his sleeping bag.

 

 

IMOGEN sat gingerly on a rock and watched Ty moving around the campsite, inspecting the platform tent, hauling wood to the fire circle, and unpacking supplies. Her feet were killing her and she wanted desperately to pry off her boots and rub them, but she knew it would only make Ty feel responsible for her poor choice of footwear and she didn’t want him to feel guilty. It was her fault, not his, that she was inadequately prepared for an outdoor adventure.

Aside from the feet, though, and nearly getting caught with her pants down, literally, by total strangers, so far, so good. The park was beautiful, and she had been in awe standing in the quiet staring at the serenity of the wilderness and at the vastness of the sky. And then, in that moment of unexpectedly pleasant discovery of the majesty of the woods, Ty had tossed out Shakespeare at her.

That had stunned her, wowed her, aroused her. In that moment, with Claudio’s words for Hero flowing off Ty’s lips, Imogen had known that her heart was in jeopardy. Ty was thoughtful, interested in her career, her likes, her opinions. He wasn’t even remotely uptight or pretentious or conceited. When that man had spoken to him on the trail, he had been humble and almost sheepish about being approached. Ty delivering that line from Shakespeare had been wildly romantic, yet at the same time, there was nothing too gushy or melodramatic or whiny about him, as sometimes overly romantic men could become. Ty was all man, as was evidenced by how he’d followed up that quote. He had shoved her against a tree trunk, and shown her exactly how much he wanted her.

Squeezing her knees together, Imogen swallowed hard and admired Ty’s butt when he bent over to grab the sleeping bag out of his giant backpack. If she were inclined to write poetry, she could pen a sonnet regarding the beauty of his backside in denim. Not many things in her life had drawn such a tactile response from her. She always wanted to touch his bum when it was in front of her. Always. Hell, whenever it was in touching distance, she wanted a crack at it, no pun intended.

Maybe she hadn’t consumed enough coffee yet, given the wild and ridiculous nature of her thoughts. It had to be almost 10 A.M., and one cup was way below her daily average for this time. She usually got up about eight and, two hours later, was on her third or fourth cup. Lack of caffeine and the arduous nature of the hike were clearly making her punchy, because she was waxing poetic about the man’s backside and not feeling the least bit concerned about the physical discomforts of camping that lay ahead. She had already seen Ty toss a spider out of the tent and she hadn’t even winced.

All she could think of was what difference did animals, insects, cold, and the lack of a comfortable bed matter when she was spending time, naked fun time, with Ty?

It seemed that feeling the way she did just might indicate that she was more emotionally involved with Ty than she cared to admit. It might even be that she was potentially falling in love with him, which was more than alarming. Yet she had never been in love before, she was certain of that, so how could she possibly know if she was even remotely close to feeling that exalted emotion for Ty?

What she did know was that she was sitting on a rock, a hard, dirty rock, in the middle of nowhere, with mosquitoes flitting around her face, with aching feet, and yet watching Ty, she just wanted to sigh in moony, googly-eyed girl fashion.

“How could you remember that quote from
Much Ado About Nothing
?” she asked him.

Ty glanced her way and tapped his head before returning to the task of making some kind of sculpture with the wood in the fire pit. “I have a good memory.”

“Obviously. But what made you think of it?” She shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t ruin a good moment by probing into the why of it. She should just enjoy the fact that he had said it and stop always searching for answers and explanations. So she quickly added, “Never mind. You must think I’m akin to a preschooler, always asking why.”

Standing back up, Ty looked over at her, his expression unreadable. “Why shouldn’t you ask why? If you’re curious, there’s nothing wrong with asking. And I’ll tell you why I thought of it . . . Watching you on the trail in the quiet of the woods, I was just grateful to be with you.” He shrugged. “That’s all. And Shakespeare’s words are better than mine.”