Read #Swag (GearShark #3) Online

Authors: Cambria Hebert

#Swag (GearShark #3) (11 page)

BOOK: #Swag (GearShark #3)
12.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“See anything else you like?” I asked, my voice dropping.

She laid a hand on my chest and tipped her head back. “I hear you’re going to be on the cover of a magazine.”

Surprise that word spread
that
fast filtered through me, but I didn’t show it. “Think I make a good cover model?”

“Oh yeah,” she purred, her palm rubbing over my pec.

I’d gotten the email yesterday, with the article draft and the cover proof. I’d actually received the cover twice, once from Emily and once from the perv photographer.

Seeing that photo for the first time had been like a punch in my stomach. I still felt slightly hollow in the spot, even though I tried to ignore it.

God, she was insanely gorgeous.

And to see her practically curled up against me that way…

I almost told that perv to change the photo. I didn’t want anyone to see her like that. It was too intimate. Too sexy… And it reminded me of the way her breasts felt against my bare back.

But then I deleted the email.

I wanted people to see.

In a sick way, it was like staking my claim on something that wasn’t even remotely mine.

“Wanna go for a ride?” I asked, shoving the image, the article, and the woman out of my brain.

“Not racing tonight?” she asked.

“I’d rather be ridden instead.”

A sexy glint came into her eyes. “A ride it is.”

The sound of purring engines cut through the sound of the crowd. My head snapped up. I found Beneto in the crowd. “You invite some racers?”

“Nah, man. Wasn’t me.”

I knew by the sound of the engines, the cars were top of the line. Made me even more curious and suspicious.

I started to pull away from the girl in my arm, but she wasn’t about to let me go. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The crowd started to part the way it had for me. Richelle, plastered herself against my side, like she was marking her territory, but I barely noticed her.

A bright-yellow and black Skyline maneuvered into view. The last time I’d seen it, the tires were carrying it out of sight.

I felt in that moment the way I did right now.

Like a wad of something was stuck in my throat. Like it was slightly hard to breathe in deep. My chest felt kinda empty, matching that hollow feeling I’d had since I saw the cover.

It made me oddly suspicious that the space beneath my ribs was vacant because my heart had just relocated to my throat.

Behind the Skyline was Drew’s cobalt Fastback. Of course he’d be trailing along. He and Trent acted like they were Joey’s bodyguards.

Both cars stopped almost simultaneously. Drew’s name rippled through the crowd; everyone knew him here. His presence at my races was annoyingly common.

But no one knew the yellow Skyline.

I did.

Joey’s here.

I thought when she’d driven away over a week ago, I wouldn’t see her again for a long time.

The driver’s door opened, two long, shapely legs unfolded, and a pair of black heels hit the pavement. She straightened, tossing back a heavy curtain of long curls, and shut her door.

The catcalls and whistles started almost instantly.

They set my back teeth on edge, and my fists clenched.

“You know her?” Richelle asked, rubbing against my chest.

God, was she still there?

Joey had on a pair of black jeans with rips up the thighs. The contrast of her skin against the dark fabric was like a damn neon light, and it pissed me off. The waistband rode her hips, and the shirt beneath the black leather jacket was cropped so her belly button was exposed.

Unlike all the street rats, she wasn’t wearing a shit ton of makeup; in fact, I couldn’t tell if she wore any at all.

She didn’t need it anyway.

I heard Drew and Trent exit the Fastback and greet some of the people surrounding the area, but my eyes never left Joey.

As if she could feel my stare, she looked my way. The urge to grab her and fuck her mouth with my tongue like I had before almost robbed me of my sight. Black spots swam before my eyes, and when they cleared, she was still looking at me.

As I stared, her chin lifted, and her eyes narrowed.

She was still pissed.

Oh, that excited me.

“Aren’t we leaving?” Richelle purred and arched against me.

Joey’s eyes slipped off mine to the girl wrapped around me. The angry look she wore intensified, and the corners of her lips pulled up in distaste.

I glanced down at Richelle. “Leaving now would be rude,” I said, making it look like the quiet words I spoke were a lot more exciting. “Guests just showed up.”

Richelle stuck out her lip in a pout. “I thought you wanted a ride.”

Oh, I do.
I wanted Joey to straddle my lap and grind herself so hard against me my lower half went numb.

I smiled at the thought. Richelle thought I was smiling at her.

I felt Joey still watching. I hoped she was jealous.

“You must be lost, little girl,” Kurt’s voice boomed. “Because pro racers aren’t welcome in this part of town.”

I whipped my head around as Kurt stepped up toward Joey.

She turned away from me completely, planted her hands on her hips, and stared at my friend-turned-stranger.

“The only thing little around here is the dick in your pants,” she retorted.

There was a moment of shocked silence that she would dare say such a thing. My laugh murdered that silence.

It burst out of my chest full throttle.

Kurt’s eyes fired toward me, and he scowled. Everyone within earshot roared. Laughter, catcalls, and more erupted through the night.

His face flared with embarrassment but also anger. The girls around here weren’t like Joey; he hadn’t been expecting such a sharp comeback.

He wanted to make her pay for that.

I watched him step close and lean forward. His lips moved. It was too loud for me to hear what he was saying.

I watched Joey’s face because that would be a clear indicator of what he said.

She rolled her eyes.

My lips twitched, but then a not-so-humorous feeling stomped out the amusement.

Joey didn’t seem so upset by whatever Kurt said, but it pissed off Drew and Trent. Both men stepped forward defensively. Trent went so far as to shove Kurt back.

I abandoned Richelle where she was, ignored her call, and strode forward. People moved as I walked.

“Pro racers aren’t welcome on this turf. So unless you want to take me up on my offer to find out just how small my dick
isn’t,
I suggest you leave before—”

Trent lunged at him, but Kurt was ready and sprang back out of reach. But he collided with me.

He twisted around, surprise on his face.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Sounds like you’re over here delivering orders when it ain’t your place.”

“They’re your orders, not mine,” he snapped and pointed at Joey. “You know who that is?”

“I’m well aware who Joey Gamble is,” I replied, hard.

It pissed me off he didn’t know. He didn’t know who she was to
me
.

She isn’t anyone to you.

Liar.

“Gamble?” Kurt echoed. The ferocity in his eyes slipped, and he glanced back at her.

The back of my neck tingled.

My jaw clenched. “Don’t play fucking games, Kurt. You know who she is.”

“The G is for Gamble. You’re Ron Gamble’s daughter,” he said, like he was only just working it out.

He was either really good at acting or really fucking stupid.

He wouldn’t be winning any Academy Awards in this lifetime, so I guess that made him a moron.

Joey lifted her chin. “You got a problem with that?”

She was nothing less than defiant, but I couldn’t help but feel like I’d just done something wrong.

I thought everyone around here knew who she was. The first and only other time she’d been on my turf was when Drew showed up with her. The second she got out of the car, people knew her. They called her out right away.

You hadn’t known she was Gamble’s daughter…

I glanced at Kurt. I watched the realization click, watched his eyes fill with an emotion I did not like.

“Pros aren’t welcome here,” I told her, hard. I glanced at Drew. “You know you ain’t, either.”

Nearby, Arrow stiffened.

Great.
Later I’d have to listen to him bitch about me treating his BFF bad.

So much for hanging back and chilling tonight, enjoying my home.

“I’ll go when she does,” Drew said. He understood. He knew I couldn’t just open my arms and act like he was my long-lost brother.

It kind of irritated me I had to put on a front.

I never had to before.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not yet anyway,” Joey replied, dismissing Kurt and looking at me. “You invited me.”

I felt my brows shoot halfway up my forehead. “
I
invited you?”

“Yeah, when you told
GearShark
I couldn’t hack it in the racing world.”

A bunch of ooohs and ahhhs accompanied by a few hollered, “Burn!” remarks made me smile. “I said that?” I scoffed.

She made a face. “What’s the matter,
Lorhaven
?” she drawled. “Afraid I’ve come to prove you wrong?”

Pro or not pro, when a racer—a female one at that—came onto my own turf and threw down a challenge such as this, a man had no other choice but to accept.

“All right,
sweetheart
,” I drawled in return. I figured if she was gonna call me the L-word, I’d call her the S-word. “Show us all what ya got.”

People started cheering and making bets.

“Beneto,” I called over my shoulder. “What’s the pot up to tonight?”

Joey made a sound. “Uh-uh. I don’t want your money.”

“No?” I smirked and sauntered a little closer. She still smelled naughty and nice.

I loved naughty and nice.

She peeled the cropped leather jacket off her arms and tossed it on the hood of her car. It afforded me a better view of all those curves.

And everyone else.

My eyes narrowed.

“If I beat you, I want to drive your car.” Her arms folded over her chest, and her shirt rode up even higher.

More oohs and ahhhs echoed. I never let anyone drive my cars.

Over the melee, she added, “And you’ll admit I can drive.”

I scoffed. “And if I win?”

“If you win, I won’t kick your ass.”

More laughter.

I shook my head. “If I win, you’ll let me look under your hood.”

What was under a driver’s hood was sacred. It was private. It was a culmination of their hard work, money, and dreams. And for a winner, it was a secret to a portion of their success.

She pursed her lips, then nodded once. “Deal.”

“Sure you don’t want the cash?” Beneto cut in. “Pot is ten grand tonight.”

I shook my head. What was between me and Joey wasn’t about money. ‘Course, no one else knew that.

“Nah. We’ll leave that for the other racers.”

“This is an open race?” Kurt spoke up.

I looked at Joey. She shrugged.

There were already cars on the starting line. More cars might make it more interesting. “Yeah, previous race stands. First one behind me wins the cash.”

“Or me.” Joey cut in confidently.

I flashed a smile. “First one behind me
or
Joey takes the money.”

Excitement crackled through the air. Everyone dispersed toward the sidelines, and the drivers planning to race (there were four) went to their cars.

Kurt was one of them.

“You in?” I called out to Drew.

He gave me a barely-there nod, acknowledging the fact I threw out the invite. “Nah,” he drawled. “Think I’m gonna watch this one.”

Joey was already in her Skyline, nudging it toward the start line.

I headed for the Lotus.

Tonight just got a whole helluva lot more interesting.

 

Joey

When the crowd parted and my car slid through, I had a hard time braking.

You know why?

Because there was some five-dollar hooker with a bad dye job draping herself all over Jace.

My foot hovered between the gas and the brake. The urge to run her down was strong.

Her tombstone would read:

Here lies a bitch who touched what she shouldn’t.

The second I felt the intensity of his stare, which amazingly had become familiar to me after just one photoshoot, truth socked me in the eye like a cheap shot from a lucky boxer.

I was here for him.

Not just to prove him wrong about my driving, either.

I wanted to see him.

Saw him I had, and now I was sitting at the starting line of a street race.

My first street race. Yeah, technically, I’d been in one with Drew, but I hadn’t been driving.

As I sat and waited, nervous energy made me jittery. It was the same before every race. It was like my body knew what was coming and was already fiending for a taste of the first surge of adrenaline. I was an addict.

My addiction was speed.

A sharp rap on my driver’s side window brought me around. A GPS loaded with the race coordinates was slipped toward me, and I had a moment of panic I wouldn’t be able to work it.

Then I told myself to stop being a wiener and do it. It was a GPS for crap’s sake, not a word problem in geometry.

Seriously, I had nightmares about geometry.

Everything was already pulled up and ready to go. All I had to do was stick it to my windshield and listen.

Around me, cars started up and people cheered. Lorhaven was parked right beside me. I glanced over, through the passenger window, at his Lotus. The windows were too tinted to see him, but I didn’t have to.

I sensed his stare.

“Ready in one,” the GPS announced.

I ripped my eyes away from the Lotus and wrapped my hands around the steering wheel, blowing out a deep breath. The moments just before I laid on the gas were always the hardest.

My body was already there, already on full throttle, but I was still sitting motionless.

Basically every cell inside me urged me forward, screamed at me to go, but my mind fought against that impulse and forced me to remain immobile.

Thoughts of Lorhaven, the pros, NRR, and everything else ceased. I was about to know a freedom only a select few ever experienced.

“Get ready in three, two… one.” The robotic female voice counted down, and then we were all peeling off the start line and racing down the empty street.

I didn’t know how long this race would last. I didn’t even know how many miles or where we were going. All I had was a red line on the GPS, a moving dot that represented me, and the electronic voice telling me where to go.

The race was going on some back roads, roads less traveled so traffic wasn’t an issue. Six cars were in the running, but in my mind, the only one I was racing was Jace.

I so badly wanted to make him eat his words.

When I first fired off the starting line, I hung back a little, resisting the urge to force my way to the front. I preferred to hold back, just a little. I might only be concerned with beating Jace, but there were other cars on the road with us. I watched them, getting a feel for the way they drove.

The guy who offered in a rather crude way to show me just how small his dick wasn’t was behind the wheel of a cherry-red Nissan. Currently, he was ahead of me, something I was certain he was eating up.

I would use it to my advantage. I always liked playing a little bit of a game with some of the biggest idiots I raced with. I wanted him to think he had me, that I’d been all talk. Just when his head got nice and big, I’d blow right by and destroy his ego.

Boom.

No, it wasn’t nice to manipulate drivers, especially while we were traveling at such high speeds, but I didn’t care.

Every driver behind the wheel knew the risk they took. Including me.

I overtook two cars, positioning myself behind the red Nissan and a Toyota right beside him. Jace was ahead of them both, having shot to the front, not instantly, but fairly quickly. I liked how he didn’t just swoop around and take the lead right away. Then again, I already knew he was one for games.

The Toyota beside the red car started to fall back a little and then was overcome completely. The GPS flashed a curve in the road up ahead, so I took it, easing around, then punched the fuel and overtook them.

I rode up hard on the Nissan’s tail end, putting pressure on him to speed the hell up. It shot forward, but not enough. I swerved out while the road was wide enough for us side by side and slid right up alongside him.

Anger radiated from the driver’s seat, and his focus was torn between the road and the rage he felt because I was gaining on him.

I smirked.

A fraction of a second later, I caught the way his hands squeezed on the wheel, and I reacted. The Nissan cut over toward me, trying to slam into my side to push me off the road.

I swung wide; his car missed mine by centimeters.

Suddenly, the tires on my side of the car vaulted off the road and into loose gravel and dirt. The sound of the rocks pinging my undercarriage and kicked up by my tires assaulted my ears.

The car fishtailed slightly because of the uneven pavement, straddling the shoulder and the road at the same time. The Nissan kept the pressure on, hogging up the road, and swerved toward me every few seconds.

Did he think I’d be surprised by his behavior? Did he think I’d be scandalized at his no-rules approach and disregard for respect?

That’s what these men didn’t understand.

I might be coming from the pros, but I was never treated like one. I knew the tricks. And I wasn’t thrown off by this.

More gravel flung up; one chunk hit the side of my windshield, and I winced a little.

I swerved a bit when the inside of my tires hit the lip of the road, and a horrible sound filled the night. The millisecond flash of brake lights ahead tore my attention.

Jace had hit his brake, just for a fraction of a second. Enough for the brake lights to flicker. Did he see what was happening? Had he thought about intervening?

Screw that shit. I didn’t need him to intervene. I didn’t need anyone to fight my battles for me. I was strong enough to do it myself.

I glanced out the window at the guy in the Nissan. He smirked and blew me a kiss.

I yanked the wheel of my car and slammed against his side fender.

Because he wasn’t expecting it (‘cause you know, only men act like tools; ladies would never… Guess now he knows I’m not a fucking lady), his car spun.

I blasted ahead and veered all four tires back onto the road. Through my rearview mirror, I watched the red Nissan skid in a full three-sixty before coming to a complete stop in the center of the road.

In only a matter of seconds, he’d be back on my tail, but that was okay. Now he knew when he fucked with me, I fucked back.

All my attention focused ahead, noting the Lotus now had more distance between us.

It’s almost as if now he sees I’m okay and pulled ahead.

“Roadwork ahead,” the GPS warned.

I glanced at the road map. It indicated everything was being condensed down into one narrow lane that was technically the shoulder of the road.

I was so gonna need new tires after tonight.

I grinned. This was fun as hell.

The gas punched down, and my car responded like I knew she would. Landscape blurred around me as I came up on the Lotus.

I swerved out to see how much room I had left and if overtaking him now was possible.

It wasn’t.

He downshifted, maneuvered the car, and shot between two rows of orange cones.

I did the same, not backing down from his rear. The road twisted and turned a bit. The dust and dirt from the shoulder rose up around the cars like black clouds in the already night sky.

A car came up behind and flipped on their high beams. I squinted, turning away from the blinding light.

What messed-up kind of shit was this!

I’d been through a lot of crap with drivers, but trying to blind one when they were driving through narrow, unfamiliar roads?

Dirty.

I flipped my rearview up to deflect a portion of the beam and slapped on a pair of sunglasses.

Up ahead, the Lotus swerved out, the road having widened again. Anxious to be done, I burst ahead to do the same.

I drove up alongside Jace, but didn’t allow myself to glance his way.

I wasn’t playing wave to my neighbor.

He gunned his engine, sliding ahead. I did the same.

For about a mile, the pair of us did this sort of dance together. I’d swerve one way; he’d go the other. I’d go forward, and he would, too. It was almost like we could anticipate the other without even trying.

“One mile to your destination,” the GPS informed.

I glanced at the screen. There was an S-shaped curve up ahead, then a straightaway where the finish line was blinking.

I figured everyone was already there, waiting to see who would cross first.

It was going to be me.

I shifted, gave my Skyline more juice than usual, and burst around the Lotus. With a loud,
“Whoop!”

I didn’t let off the gas, choosing instead to keep on flying forward.

I spared one glance back, noting Jace wasn’t far behind, and just behind him was the red Nissan. He didn’t have his high beams on anymore. Guess that had been a little bonus just for me.

The S-turn was just ahead. My stomach dipped a little as I anticipated the maneuvers I would have to make. I wasn’t familiar with this road, this kind of turn. And because it was dark, I only saw as far as my headlights would allow.

I decided not to plan, just to allow my pure driver instincts to lead me on this one.

As I was leaning into the first curve in the road, the sound of an engine nearby had me glancing up. The compact Lotus literally slid/drifted around the curve on the inside, like I wasn’t even there.

From there, it moved into the next curve like he’d done it a thousand times.

My focus shifted back to my own driving as I straightened from the first curve and prepared to go into the next one.

Behind me, the Nissan tried to swing inward, to also overtake me. I moved over, forcing him back. His tires squealed when we took the second curve, and I punched the gas before I was even completely out of the move.

My front end was practically touching the Lotus now, and my blood pounded, my fingers burning.

I had to do it now or I’d lose. He was going so fast, probably almost at the max that car would allow.

I glanced down at the button for the NOS I had installed but didn’t often utilize. I could use it out here on the streets; all was fair in competition. I pulled out, nudged my car ahead, now almost even with the driver’s side door.

My finger stroked over the button, and I smiled.

Suddenly, I was jolted from the side. I bounced around in the driver’s seat and smacked my head on the window.

THUMP THUMP THUMP…

My body stiffened as the sound erupted. At the same time, my back end fishtailed off the road, and I caught a flash of red.

That son of a bitch hit me! Somehow, he’d rubbed against my back passenger tire and nudged me out.

I turned into the way my car swerved and hit the brake because his car came forward, so we were parallel. If I didn’t love my car so much, I’d have hit the gas instead and ran into his side head on.

My car stopped, the scent of burning rubber scorching my nose.

The driver in the Nissan flipped me off and then shot forward. I followed suit, and even with my now wonky tire, I buzzed around him and over the finish line where Jace was already parked.

Son of a bitch.

I lost.

I was never going to hear the end of this.

BOOK: #Swag (GearShark #3)
12.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Sugar Daddy by Sawyer Bennett
At the Sign of the Star by Katherine Sturtevant
An Oath Sworn by Diana Cosby
Fires of Delight by Vanessa Royall
Prison Throne by T. Styles
Jagged Hearts by Lacey Thorn
Precise by Rebecca Berto, Lauren McKellar
Preacher by William W. Johnstone