Authors: Roz Lee
Tags: #romance, #racing, #motor sports, #nascar, #auto racing, #steamy sex, #steamy scenes, #darlington, #racing romance, #romance adult, #sexy hero, #sexy contemporary adult romance, #race car driver, #steamy adult, #sports car racing, #steamy sex story, #sexy action, #sexy alpha hero, #steamy contemporary romance, #steamy hot passion, #sexy adult story, #contemorary romance, #talladega superspeedway, #steamy romance novels, #charlotte motor speedway
She stirred, turning those sapphire blue eyes
on him. An invisible current flowed between them, releasing Dell
from his paralysis.
Wrong
. What he wanted was so wrong, but
like a bug drawn to the light, he couldn't overcome nature. Knowing
he was courting the flames of hell, he closed the distance between
them. Her gaze followed his progress until he joined her on the
sofa.
“Dell,” she breathed.
“Shh. Let me take care of you,” he said. He
bathed her face with the wet cloth, trailing the cool fabric across
her forehead, her flushed cheeks, over her lips and down the length
of her chin. Her chest rose and fell on a sigh as he dragged the
cloth over her chest, pushing the edges of her blouse aside as he
descended.
“You're so beautiful.” He brushed the cloth
over the swell of her breasts, pausing to watch a drop of water
disappear into the cleft. He groaned and dipped his head.
Moth. Flame
.
Caro gasped and arched her back as his tongue
delved into the spot in search of the elusive water droplet. Her
silk skin tasted of salt and the heat of her body magnified her
scent. His nostrils flared.
Intoxicating.
He drew his tongue across the top of one
lace-clad breast, then the other before he hooked his index finger
in one cup. Her skin set him on fire. And when his questing digit
found the hard nub he sought, her moan of pleasure shattered
him.
Lost
.
“I've got to see you, Caro,” he said. He
searched her eyes for resistance and saw need and a raw hunger that
matched his own. Still, he vowed to himself to take it slow, savor
every moment. Even though he saw acceptance now, if she changed her
mind, he would stop, even if it killed him. She was too precious,
too perfect, and he'd never do anything to harm her.
Mine.
He used his finger to draw the fabric down
until her darkened areola peeked above the lace. He touched his
tongue to the puckered skin before he dipped lower to taste the
still hidden jewel. It was too much.
It wasn't enough.
He had to have more. He jerked the fabric,
and at the same time sucked her nipple into his mouth, pulling hard
on her sensitive skin. Suddenly, her hands cradled his head, her
fingers combing through his hair, holding him to her. A sexy moan
vibrated through her chest, setting him aflame.
Mine. Mine.
Then she was beneath him on the sofa. He
feasted on one breast, while he fumbled with the back closure of
her bra. It came loose and he pushed the fabric down to expose both
breasts. He released her, pushing up to see the treasure he'd
uncovered.
“My God, Carolina.” He reverently touched one
breast, testing the weight in his palm. He brushed his thumb across
the tight nipple. “You are so damned perfect.”
“Dell.” His name was a whisper on her lips.
He tore his eyes from her breasts. He saw wonder and surrender in
her eyes. Something inside him shifted and he swallowed hard.
“Caro, my sweet Carolina.”
“Love me, Dell.”
He was hard as a post with want and need, but
this was Carolina and hurting her wasn't an option. He would be a
gentleman about this for her. “You don't know how much I want to,
Caro.” He ground his erection against her stomach to emphasize the
point. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Please, Dell.” Her hips rose to meet his.
“Don't make me beg.”
“Ah, sweet Carolina, you'll never have to
beg.”
She squealed as he swept her into his arms
and carried her to the back of the coach, laying her on his bed. He
stripped and came down beside her. With a measure of control he
didn't know he was capable of, he stripped her clothes from her,
one garment at a time, indulging in his fantasy of licking the
perspiration from her, one inch at a time.
Caro moaned and squirmed beneath his
ministrations. He touched, he tasted, he worshipped, and then he
wedged his shoulders between her thighs and feasted.
No nectar on earth was sweeter than his
Carolina, and she was his. He'd denied it enough, postponing his
claim of her far too long.
Mine.
Her throaty moans, her fingers against his
scalp drove him on. Her pleasure became his goal in life. Her
thighs pillowed his face. Her scent, her taste became a part of
him. She was close, he could feel the tension building as his
tongue stroked inside her. He needed her climax more than he needed
his own, and he was beyond desperate.
Timing was something he understood. He
waited, assessed, calculated. He was in the driver's seat –
evaluating every sound, every motion from her writhing body in
order to coax optimum performance from her. He used all his senses
to know when she needed him to throttle up, and in that instant, he
plunged two fingers deep inside her and clamped his teeth over her
clit while his tongue flicked over the captured nub. She shattered,
her body convulsing in a jagged rhythm in tempo with his heartbeat.
Liquid heat bathed his face and hand. His head spun as he absorbed
her climax into his psyche. Nothing would ever be better than this,
he thought.
She curled into him, sated and smiling. He
held her in a gentle, yet firm, embrace until her breathing calmed.
Her skin was satin beneath his fingers as he learned the curve of
her back, the swell of her hips and her sweet ass. All this was
his, but he needed more. He needed all of her.
“Caro,” he said as he felt her smile against
his chest. His cock twitched against her stomach.
“Mmm,” she murmured. She pressed a kiss to
his heated skin. Flames licked at his insides.
“We're not through,” he said.
Her hand on his stomach slipped lower. His
body tensed in anticipation. Her fingers found his erection,
closing around him like a velvet vise. Air swooshed from his lungs
and he bucked, sucking in a ragged breath. “Sweet Jesus, Carolina.”
He called on every bit of restraint to allow her to explore. It was
the least he could do before he claimed her final prize. “You're
killing me, sweetheart.”
She rolled away from him, keeping his cock
prisoner to her inquisitive hand so all he could do was roll with
her until she was beneath him, guiding his cock to her entrance.
Her heat called to him. He craved it more than he'd ever craved
anything in his life. In a moment of sanity, he braked.
“Protection.” His voice sounded like gravel.
“Hurry,” she said.
Dell leaned over, stretching to reach the
drawer in the nightstand, keeping her pinned beneath his hips while
praying he'd find a condom in there. Track bunnies weren't his
style, but he'd been desperate a time or two. But never like this.
Never to the point where death looked better than the prospect of
having to stop now. He silently cursed as he ran his fingers across
the bottom of the drawer and came up empty.
Hell.
“Well, shit.” He scrambled off her to sit on
the edge of the bed. He jerked the drawer completely out of its
mounting and began tossing random things to the floor.
“No fire suit?” she asked.
“I won't take no for an answer. There has to
be one in here somewhere.” One lonely foil package caught his eye
and he breathed a shaky sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
Caro's sweet smile and the sparkle in her
eyes told him she was as relieved as he. He suited up and slid
between her welcoming thighs.
“Are you sure, Carolina?”
Her hips rose and fell. “Yes, I'm sure.”
He held himself above her on his forearms,
cradling her face in his hands. His thumbs stroked her cheekbones,
now flushed with desire. Her earlier humor was gone, replaced by a
tender invitation. “I can't wait any longer, Carolina.”
“Don't,” she whispered.
He claimed her mouth and her core in
tandem.
Heaven.
She was hot and tight, and so damned wet he
almost lost it. He nudged deeper and she let out a startled gasp.
He used the opportunity to thrust his tongue past her lips, doing
with it what he couldn't risk doing with his cock. Not yet. He
would not go off like a teenager with his first girl. He wanted to
make this last – forever.
Caro returned his kiss, sucking his tongue,
dueling and moaning low in her throat. Finally, he could take no
more. He jerked his mouth from hers. “Oh fuck!”
He moved, pulling out and plunging back in.
Hard. Fast. Finesse and rhythm were beyond him. Nothing had ever
felt this good, this right, this perfect. “Oh God, Carolina,” he
clenched his jaw and rose above her, his hands braced either side
of her shoulders. He dared to look at her. Her breasts bounced with
each thrust. Her lips were swollen and wet from his kisses. In the
back of his mind, he registered her legs anchored around his hips,
her fingernails clinging to his back. And in her eyes, he saw a
love he didn't deserve.
“Dell,” she breathed.
“Come for me, Caro.”
A few more strokes and her body tensed. She
drew her head back, exposing her neck to him. He bent, took a
gentle bite, palming one breast. He arched his back, took the
perfect mound into his mouth and sucked the nipple hard.
She exploded beneath him. Dell released her
breast, rose above her and throwing his head back, he rode her
hard. Need drove him. Her body held him prisoner, claiming him as
surely as he claimed her.
His balls clenched tight. Sparks erupted in
the small of his back and shot like a flash-fire through his groin.
He came in great, heaving spurts that seemed to drain the very life
from him. The pain was so sharp, it almost took him under, and
would have if the pleasure hadn't been equal to it.
“God almighty,” he swore as he collapsed on
top of her. “Sweet, God almighty.”
Hell.
Chapter Eleven
What the hell had he done?
The muted sound of water sluicing down the
drain did nothing to calm him. He envied every droplet now sliding
down Caro's naked body and wished the tiny shower were big enough
for two. The reality of Caro was more than he dreamed, and every
bit a nightmare. Now that he'd had her, he couldn't give her up,
but he couldn't keep her either. The world they lived in was too
small to keep a relationship a secret, and if Caro were going to
have any credibility as an owner, the rumors about them had to stay
rumors.
The water cut off and Dell grabbed a pair of
jeans from the built-in dresser and pulled them on commando-style.
Another drawer yielded a faded T-shirt he hastily pulled on. He
congratulated himself on his restraint as he passed the bathroom
door without stopping on his way to the front of the coach.
Mindless of the time of day, he pulled a beer from the refrigerator
and downed half of it in one pull.
Focus
. He needed to pull his head out
of his ass and think. He had one goal – to win, and if he could
take Warner out in the process, so much the better. Caro had
nothing to do with anything. She was a means to a goal. A ride. He
smiled at the pun. Yeah, she was quite the ride, everything a man
needed, soft, warm, responsive. And for those glorious moments when
he made love to her, he hadn't thought of anything but her and
driving his cock into her mind-blowing heat.
But he'd do well to remember she was his ride
– professionally. Without her, there was no racing, and the track
was the only place he had any business looking for satisfaction. No
more Caro.
The bathroom door opened and closed and Dell
turned to see Caro striding up the narrow hallway toward him. She'd
dressed in the clothes she came in, but now her hair was damp and
the clothes a bit more wrinkled than normal wear could account for.
Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled. Her lips were swollen he
noted, and she wore no makeup. She looked well fucked.
Fuck it
. His resolve blew a gasket.
Who was he kidding? He wasn't giving Caro up. They'd have to be
discreet. He could do discreet. She could come to his place, or
better yet, he'd go to hers. He'd buy a plain car – something that
wouldn’t attract attention parked in her driveway – something he
normally wouldn't be caught dead in.
She stopped just out of his reach. She'd
finally come to her senses in the shower. As she stood there
staring at Dell, knowing in intimate detail what was hidden beneath
those sexy as hell tight jeans and T-shirt, she wondered why her
good sense couldn’t have made an appearance when she really needed
it – before she begged Dell Wayne to make love to her. And she had
begged. That was something she wouldn't soon forget. Just like the
feel of his hands, and his lips, and…well, she shouldn't go there
again.
“This was a mistake,” she said.
Dell smiled and reached for her. She took a
step back and held her hand up in a signal every idiot understood.
Dell, thankfully, retreated. “Caro. Don't try to tell me it wasn't
good.”
Oh lord! The smug son-of-a-bitch would cut
straight to the chase. Caro squared her shoulders and took a deep
breath before answering.
“No. I won't lie, Dell. I had a good time –
the best time, actually, but it was wrong.” She brushed past him to
the door. She paused with her hand on the latch and turned to him.
It took her until the hot water ran out to come up with an excuse,
and it was a darn good one, if she did say so herself.
“You know how small this world is, and how
NASCAR is all about family values. If anyone found out…well, I'd be
ruined.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she
high-tailed it out of there, half expecting him to try to stop her,
and half wishing he would.
Caro glanced around as she made her way out
of Dell's motor coach. Relieved to see no one, she hurried across
the campground toward the parking area where she'd left her car.
Normally, she would have flagged down one of the track volunteers
buzzing around in golf carts to take her out to the remote lot, but
not today. She couldn't risk someone seeing and commenting on the
state of her hair or her clothes. It wouldn't take a genius to
figure out how she'd gotten this way. Whether they put two and two
together to come up with Dell and her, it didn't matter. All that
would matter was the equation. One variable was as bad as any other
when it came to whom she slept with. That it happened at the track
would only make it worse if anyone found out.