Slide Job (Cameron Motorsports) (12 page)

Champagne buzzed around in her head. Mixed with leftover adrenaline, it created a flammable combination that flowed through her. Her skin positively sang with energy. She vowed to purge herself of desire for this man. Tonight.

If she could just have her way with him, she’d finish it. It seemed to work for her. The few times she’d had sex since Josh’s death, she took control. Once she finished, it was over.

She could feel his hands caress her back, then slide around to tentatively cup her breasts. Pausing a moment, he groaned deep in his chest. She felt his resistance melt. Tyler gave in and held her firmly as he lowered his head to lick and suck.

Her stroking fingers found a tiny hole in the shoulder of his t-shirt. Driven by the need to feel his flesh against her own, she tore. His t-shirt ripped off sideways, exposing most of his upper body. She ran her fingers over his muscled chest, curled them through whorls of tawny hair that disappeared into his jeans.

The beast inside her jerked free, demanded satisfaction. Small animal noises came from her throat. She could feel herself growling her passion, helpless to stop. The button on his jeans fell prey to her searching fingers.

Morgan pulled herself away from his greedy mouth to sit back and work at his zipper. Finally she worked it low enough to reach in and free him.

Her skin sizzled at the places their flesh met. Hands, arms, chest, belly. Hot. She was so hot, she ached for him.

Shaking legs barely held her when she stood over him. She backed away a step and, with her usual economy of motion, slipped out of her shorts and dampened panties. From the tiny front pocket, she grabbed the foil packet. Her hands trembled as she tore it open, and sheathed him.

Their eyes met in silent agreement. No turning back. Only forward. Whatever the outcome, they both wanted this. Desperately.

Necessity required she keep her platform sandals on. One couldn’t retain control by not being able to touch the ground from a mounted position.

Driven, she lowered herself on him. Never in her memory had she been like this. Crazy with passion, blind with need.

Wet and ready, she tightened her thighs and buttocks, rose and dropped until she reached the base of him. He filled her. Completed her.

She turned his head away when his lips tried to connect with hers. Kisses weren’t part of her plan. If he hadn’t wanted to kiss her before, she wouldn’t kiss him now.

Perverse though it would be, she bit him instead. Right on the tender area where his shoulder and neck met. His flesh in her mouth, she rode him, hard, and harder still. Her nails raked his back while her thighs kept up the momentum. Her breasts bounced, nipples grazing his chest deepening the intensity of the movement. She could feel his hands welded to her hips, working with the motion.

They were lost. Faster. They were connected in a way neither had been before. Harder. Morgan leaned back, her hands firmly on his shoulders. Flaming blue eyes burned into hers. Sweat-slicked skin pounded to the tempo of the blood that raged beneath. The scent of passion filled the air carrying a hint of cinnamon and roses.

She could feel her muscles tighten, her breath fast and short. Straining, her release built up steam as he drove himself upward and into her, as she dropped on him and rose again.

Teeth bared, she screamed his name as she drove them both, careening over the edge into madness.

Orgasm hit her, splintering her world into only sensation.

The grip of her sex brought him. Holding her motionless, he roared. His head thrown back, his neck muscles corded, his body shuddered as his seed poured from him. With a breath she barely heard, he spun off into oblivion with her.

Chapter 13

Dusk died away unnoticed, replaced by evening brightened into day with pole after pole of stadium lights.

Morgan stood alone at the counter in the racecar hauler. Well, as alone as she could get these days with cameras following her every move. Even now the black, round nose was pointed at her. Mostly, she ignored it and the man behind it. Every now and then she tried to rile him by flipping him off. It never worked. Blake just laughed.

She carefully rubbed the mud off her helmet with a soft damp cloth, preferring to do it herself rather than leave it for one of the crew.

While she scrubbed at the spots, her thoughts drifted. Right down the same road they’d traveled many times today, despite her best efforts otherwise. Back to her last night in Georgia, and Tyler. Even though several days had passed, the memories still made her tingle and brought a smile to her lips. Thank goodness she’d been able to ditch the camera guys before she’d found his room.

When they’d finished, he’d kissed her. Cupped her face gently, then kissed her senseless. Softly, carefully, almost reverently. He’d breathed one word close to her ear in a whisper. “Thanks.” For what?

Tyler’s gentleness in the face of her wild behavior nearly undid her. The woman who faced death every day ran for the bathroom like a coward.

By the time she’d gathered up enough courage to come back out, Tyler had been fully clothed and sound asleep on the bed. Apparently he’d drifted off waiting for her.

Morgan had hovered and watched him for a moment, noting how sleep eased the lines of stress around his eyes. In repose, he was beautiful. Thick, tawny lashes rested on commanding cheekbones, as though crafted in the likeness of a Greek god. Full lips slightly parted, breathing deep and even. Washed with peacefulness which, she guessed, came in short supply during his waking hours.

Her heart had wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and cuddle. Fear of her own response moved her feet quickly and quietly to the door. Life on the road didn’t include time for entanglements. As always, within hours she’d be on her way to another race, in another town. With one last backward glance, Morgan slipped out.

The sound of running feet abruptly forced her wandering mind back to the present.

“Morgan!” She heard the childish squeal, felt the punch of a body slamming into her legs. The warm smell of innocence bathed her senses as slender arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

“Hey, Annie. How are you feeling? You’re daddy told me you were sick. I missed you in Georgia.”

Familiar cerulean eyes shined from Annie’s face. “I’m all better now. What’s that?” Annie questioned pointing to the narrow, clear sheets of paper-thin plastic stacked next to her helmet.

“Those are tear-offs. They go on the front of my helmet to help me see when I get mud on it. Want to help me put them on?”

“Yes.” Giggling with pleasure, Annie reached for the stack Morgan held out. The little girl held them as if they were made of gold. Annie carefully handed them to her one at a time so Morgan could bend the end and fasten each one to the clear face of the visor.

“Hi, Morgan. You’re always busy, aren’t you?” Tyler’s sister, Stephanie, stepped away from the door, where she’d stopped when Annie rushed in.

Tall and thin, even in casual dress, she looked like an ad for a women’s fashion magazine. Perfectly groomed hair cut in the latest style, full make up. The devil in Morgan wondered how long it would take red dust to stick to all that foundation. Oh, three laps next to the fence ought to do it. The angel in her wondered if she’d ever looked that good in a pair of jeans. The woman in her knew it was wrong to hate Stephanie when the answer was no.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to do.” The darn woman kept staring at her and Annie like they were bugs under a microscope. What was her problem?
“Is there another dilemma?”

Stephanie shuffled her feet, appearing a little nervous, her face revealing a shy smile. “No, no problem. You’re just so good with her.” She waved her hand in Annie’s direction. “So patient.”

Morgan wanted to roll her eyes as she held back a snarky retort. Fluttering women weren’t her strong suit. They tended to find her last nerve and stomp on it with their dainty, kitten-heeled shoes. “Well, she’s a kid. I try.”

She reached down to ruffle Annie’s hair and couldn’t stop the smile from sneaking out. “By the way, Stephanie, congratulations on your new niece.”

“Thanks. And thanks for taking Annie on such short notice the other day. I know Tyler really appreciated it. So did I. I really got myself in a bind.”

“No problem. We had fun didn’t we?” Morgan winked at Annie and reached for her helmet. “Okay, kid. Let’s see how they work.” She put the helmet on Annie’s head. “Now, this is what you do.” Morgan grasped Annie’s small hand in her own and raised it to the flipped end of the tear-off.

Morgan used her other hand to reach for the muddy cloth she’d used earlier. She put a big smear of mud across the visor. Annie frowned inside. “Here, Annie, pull. Like this.”

She brought the child’s hand forward in a snapping motion, ripping one thin dirty sheet off the face-shield. The clean and clear ones remained.

“Ohhh.” Annie exhaled an excited breath. “I want to do it.” Her petite fingers reached up to grab the next one. Pull, snap.

Pull, snap. Giggle. Pull, snap. Giggle. She pressed her hands to the face-shield and crossed her eyes at Morgan.

Morgan laughed. Mesmerized, she watched Annie pull all seven brand new tear-offs from her helmet while the little girl’s head bobbled inside. They were wasted, she knew, but Annie looked so darn cute doing it.

“I’ve got to take a look at the race track. Would you ladies like to come along?”

Annie nodded quickly, making Morgan laugh again when the helmet slid back and forth on her head. She looked like one of those little bobble-head dolls.

“Sure,” Stephanie answered a little hesitantly. “If we’re not bothering you.”

“You’re not the bother, believe me. If Blake here wasn’t such a nice guy, he’d have been out on his ear a long time ago.” Morgan motioned to the cameraman, standing just inside the door of the hauler filming their every move.

Morgan carefully removed the helmet from the child’s head, careful not to snag her ears, and spoke to Stephanie. “Well, I won’t bite you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Are you always this nervous?”

“No, I’m not. I’m just so out of my league here. I don’t know much about racing, especially this kind. Except it’s dirty, exciting, loud and you have to be really careful in the pits.” Her eyes twinkled, reminding Morgan of their first unsuccessful meeting. Maybe they could be friends after all.

“Well then, it’s time for Dirt Racing 101. Let’s go have your first lesson at the fence.” Morgan stood to the side and motioned them forward with a little bow. “Shall we?”

*

Tyler paced back and forth in the track office, holding a cell phone close to his ear. “No, Sam. After this event, we’re taking a few days off.”

He combed his fingers through his hair in irritation. Sam wanted them to keep filming. “I realize stressed contestants make a better show.” Frustrated steps carried him to the door and back again.

Everyone was beat. He’d never let on he was tired. Sam would have him replaced in a minute if he sensed weakness. “It’s not the contestants, it’s the crew. It’s been five weeks, Sam. Seven days a week. They need a break or you won’t have a show.”

Jim O’Bannon walked in without knocking, followed by his cameraman. So much for privacy. Just what he needed, another asshole to deal with. Three more weeks and the show would be finished. At least as far as the contestants and crew were concerned.

“I’ll call you later, Sam. I’ve got to go.” Tyler closed his phone with a snap. He met Jim’s eyes, working to keep the irritation out of his. Unfortunately, it didn’t carry over to his voice. “Yes?” he snapped. Piss ant.

The shorter man bristled at Tyler’s tone of voice. Tyler watched him visibly stiffen. “I want to know what you’re going to do about Morgan Blade.”

“What about her?”

“She’s cheating.”

“What do you mean, she’s cheating?” Great, there was one on every show. Every time they lost, it was someone else’s fault.

“Withholding information and using unfair tactics.”

“Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what the hell you’re talking about?” Tyler sat behind the track owner’s desk and steepled his fingers, doing his best to rein in his own temper.

“You know she’s lost her sponsor, right?”

“No, I didn’t know that. It doesn’t violate the rules of her contract on the show.” He’d bet it would make it hard for her to keep racing afterward, though.

“Do you know why she lost her sponsor?”

“No, and it’s none of my business.” Tyler watched the little rat’s wheels turn, trying to think of another excuse.

“She tried to make me fail the challenge in South Carolina with her dumb-ass prank.”

“That’s exactly what it was, a stupid prank. And you didn’t fail. If memory serves, you beat her anyway.” He flattened his hands on the desk in an effort to hide his irritation.
I’d like to beat him up, myself. Arrogant little miscreant
.

Just because Jim’s father owned a chain of auto parts stores, he thought it made him powerful by association. Spoiled brat. For whatever reason, this guy really had an ax to grind with Morgan.

It was bad enough Ryan McCarthy from Indianapolis was threatening to sue over what he felt was his unjust removal from the show. Funny, Ryan didn’t think crashing a truck worth well into six figures was a big deal. Now this.

For whatever quirky reason, television fans had loved the first few episodes. Everyone was tuning in. The press would have a field day if any of this leaked out. His head started to pound.

A walkie-talkie sitting upright on the desk squawked and a crackling voice spoke into the room. “First call, sprint cars, we need you in staging. Now.”

Tyler wanted to laugh with relief. Saved by an unknown voice. He could get out of here, find Annie and Stephanie, then settle down and actually watch the main event. Tyler stood up and looked down at Jim. This conversation was over as far as he was concerned. “I believe that’s your cue.”

Jim glared at him, “If you don’t do something about her, I will.” He stormed out, slamming the office door.

Tyler shook his head. One more headache he could do without
.

*

Morgan heard the official’s voice call them to staging. It was time for this evening’s main event. Challenge number six. This place had a reputation as one of the toughest little dirt bullrings in Tennessee. To her it was like any other clay oval, just another day at the office.

She remembered her promise to Annie.

“Annie, do you remember our deal?”

Annie nodded enthusiastically as the three of them headed from the fence line back to the hauler. Annie held both their hands while they swung her in the air. She landed with a laugh.

“Do you recall where it’s at?” Again, another excited nod.

“Tell you what, I’m going to get in my race car. You take Stephanie with you to get it and I’ll wait for you. How’s that?”

“Okay.” Annie pointed a tiny index finger at Morgan. “But don’t you go anywhere.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Morgan tried to answer as solemnly as she could, faced with blond
e pigtails and an exuberant grin. What a sweet child. It spoke volumes to her about Annie’s father and the rest of the family.

Annie grabbed her aunt by the hand and led her away as Morgan quickly put a new set of tear-offs on her helmet. She grabbed it, along with her gloves, and headed to the car.

Annie came trundling quickly around the corner with a confused-looking Stephanie in tow. “You sent her to get a shoe? I thought she was confused.”

“No. She knew.” Morgan waved at Annie and reached her hand out of the car. Ignoring Stephanie’s questioning glance, she focused on the child. Wearing a look of accomplishment, Annie handed her the soft baby moccasin. Morgan slipped it in her pocket, where it belonged.

Strapped in the sprint car, safety gear in place, Morgan let herself be pushed backward out of the pit stall. Before she rolled away, she gave Annie a thumbs up.

Annie mirrored the thumbs up gesture, standing between Stephanie and Jack. She smiled proudly at Morgan, and all three waved goodbye.

*

Green flag! Go! Go! Go!

Morgan mashed the gas pedal and the sprint car leapt forward, roaring like an angry lion. Finally released from its chains, it bounded into turn one, streaking through the corner. Her world narrowed, all her senses focused. Adrenaline pumped through her, hot and powerful. It filled her body with endorphins, making her feel sleek and strong.

Invincible.

Twenty-four sprint cars raced around the track fighting for position. Her hands light on the wheel, she kept her thumbs close to her fingers and not wrapped around. She worked it back and forth. Pain punched her high and hard in the shoulder. She’d barely seen the rock thrown from the car in front of her before it hit her.
Ouch!