Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (28 page)

“OH MY GOD!” I screamed but Spencer screaming like a four-year old girl and covering his eyes silenced my screams.

“I thought it was Jameson in here, not you!” He cried out tossing a towel my direction.

“Jesus Christ Spencer,” I wailed just as loud trying to cover myself with my hands. It would have worked if I had three hands, but I didn’t. “You didn’t think to knock?”

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Jameson asked from behind Spencer, his voice a blistering snarl as he stepped inside the motor coach, slamming the metal door. I never heard the door open but how could I with the volume of Spencer’s screams?

Now let me take a moment here to really explain how this would look to Jameson.

I was standing next to the bathroom door,
completely naked
with my girly bits on display because when Spencer threw the towel, he was so freaked out that I
wasn’t
Jameson, he didn’t even throw it remotely close to me.

In fact, the towel was on my ceiling fan whipping around the room—and I say “my ceiling fan” because this particular ceiling fan, had housed a few of my undergarments in the past few days.

Spencer was now gaping between Jameson and me. Jameson, who was not even remotely amused, looked as though he was going to have a heart attack any second. Body shaking, fisted hands, he was a little worked up over this.

He
might
possibly kill Spencer.

“I
...
I
...
um
...
shit.” Spencer stammered staring at me. “I thought it was you in here.” He backed away holding his hands over his eyes. “I’m
so
sorry dude.”

I will give Spencer credit, he really was trying not to look, but his hands kept coming away from his eyes so he can take a better look. He’s a man, you can’t blame him really.

I wanted to giggle, that’s how inappropriate this whole situation was but I decided that wouldn’t be best given how worked up Jameson appeared.

“Spencer,” Jameson growled slowly. “Get the fuck out
now
!”

I flinched at his furious tone.

Poor Spencer all but ran out of there but before he got to the door, he reached for his hat, the whole purpose of him coming in here, but the hat was next to me. Naturally, Spencer looked at Jameson and back to me, wondering if he should just leave the hat.

“Spencer—GET OUT!” Jameson roared.

I swear the entire racetrack could have heard him, I actually covered my ears—it was
that
loud.

In the entire time I’ve known Spencer; I have never seen him scared of Jameson, or anyone. Right now, he honestly looked terrified of him.

Once the door shut, Jameson reached for the towel on the ceiling fan and threw it my direction. “You might want to check who it is before you come out of the bathroom,
naked
. There’s no privacy around here.” His voice was low and bleak but less furious. His eyes flickered to mine and then away. A moment later, his expression softened. “Please put some clothes on.” He ordered walking out the door.

Well, that was interesting.

I know he had to get to driver introductions but seriously
...
I was naked. How can we
not
take advantage of that?

Oh, relax Sway. You just had sex less than four hours ago. It won’t kill you.

Just as I turned around, the door flew open and Jameson stormed back in, locked the door, and started ripping his clothes off, stumbling around as he tried to rid them quickly.

When he got the majority ripped away, he stood there in front of me, breathing heavy. His eyes a dark jade color that smoldered with hunger. Reaching for the hem of his shirt, he pulled it over his head roughly, throwing it against the wall.

I didn’t know what to do or say, so I just stood there watching.

Standing before me, naked, he finally spoke. “I couldn’t just leave you in here,
naked
,” was his only response before he carried me towards the bedroom.

“I only have a few minutes.” He grunted pushing me up against the mirrored wall.

Facing the mirror, the funbags smashed against it, made them appear larger. For someone who was barely a B-cup, this was a
good
thing.

“If you only have a few minutes, then you better stop looking at the funbags and fuck me.”

His eyes narrowed at me and he winked. “Hold on tight then, honey.” And then he flipped me around so my ass was pressed against the mirror and in the next second, he was sliding into me with a low fierce growl that actually gave me goose bumps.

The nice thing about a luxury Featherlite motor coach was the mirrors. Now, with my back to the one mirror, I had a perfect vista view of Jameson’s ass with my legs wrapped around his waist. If that wasn’t a pit lizards dream, I don’t know what is.

This was another picture I wouldn’t mind framing on the ceiling of my bedroom.

Jameson’s hands gripped my ass, using the mirror to keep me firmly in place.

Never in my life had I ever thought a quickie would be considered one of the best sexual encounters I’d ever had, but
this
, was definitely in the top five now.

Jesus Christ, look at that ass, hard, round, muscular
...
perfect.

I think I actually whimpered at that point watching
his ass flex with each thrust brazenly.

“I’m sorry
...
I’m
...
” his thick gruff voice trailed off while he tried to reach between us.

I knew what he was trying to do.

Capturing his hand with my own, I placed it back on my ass. “Only you,” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I brought his mouth to mine.

That’s all the encouragement he needed. He threw his head back and it was glorious, probably one of the best five minutes of my entire life.

Afterwards, Jameson stayed there for a moment panting and kissing my lips, jaw, neck, and then my shoulders. “That was—”

“Amazing,” I finished for him.

“I’ll say.” He smirked. “That wasn’t very good for you though.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He looked surprised. “Huh?”

“That
was
hot!” I clarified pointing to the mirror behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder and then shook his head in amusement. “I feel
...
like I should charge you for that now.”

“I feel like I should pay you for it.” I agreed and we both started laughing.

I looked around for my underwear while Jameson put his clothes back on. I found them on the nightstand but again, they were ripped.

“Jameson,” I held up the shredded underwear. “Stop doing this. I don’t have any more underwear here.”

He chuckled putting his Simplex hat on. “Ah
...
it looks like Emma needs to take you shopping.”

“I hate you for doing that to me.” I grumbled in frustration.

The last thing I wanted to do was go shopping with
Emma
. I loved her but not enough to go anywhere near a department store, of any kind, with her.

“You don’t hate me,” He pulled me against his chest, his breathing still uneven. “I just gave you a
free
show.”

“Whatever.” I sulked pulling away to put my jeans on without underwear.

Jameson watched me closely. “You’re seriously out of underwear?”

“Yes you asshole!” I held up the pieces of the black pair from last night. “These were the last pair since you ripped the other ten pairs I brought.”

“You can’t go commando.” He stated firmly, as though it
wasn’t
an option.

“What the hell do you expect me to do?”

His fingers raked through his hair. “I don’t know.” He threw his arms up. “I won’t be able to concentrate if I know you have no underwear on. Put something on.”

I was silent for a moment trying to think. “Fine, leave and then you won’t know if I put some on or not.”

He shook his head violently. “No, no, no,” he quickly disagreed. “That makes it worse. Then I’ll spend the entire race wondering if you’re wearing any or not. You have to put something on.”

“My god Jameson,” I yelled and stomped over to his dresser to pull out a pair of his boxer briefs and slid them on. “Happy now?”

“Immensely,”

We left the motor coach after that, Jameson
immensely
happy, and me sporting his underwear.

As with any race weekend, the time just wasn’t there and soon race activities were in full swing.

 “Jameson, what do you think your chances are here for a win?” A reporter with SPEED asked him as we stood alongside his car prior the start of the race.

“I think we have a shot at it but it’s hard to say. I didn’t get a lot of practice time in this car since we crashed in practice yesterday. This Simplex Ford ran great in happy hour though. I think we could easily pull off a top five today.” Jameson answered mechanically continuing to sign autographs for the swarm of fans huddled around his car on the grid.

I couldn’t believe
how
many people were gathered around his car compared to the other drivers, yeah most of them were under twenty-five
and
female, but Christ almighty this boy was popular.

You could barely move an inch without bumping into someone. I almost felt out of place, like I should have been asking for his autograph but really, he gave me something better not more than an hour ago.

Jameson rarely looked up, just signed autograph after autograph.

I wonder if his hand ever got tired? I know something that never gets tired.

The thought had me giggling next to him. With his head still down, his eyes darted over at me to see what I was giggling about.

Quickly, I looked away like I wasn’t doing anything so he went back to signing his autographs.

One brave garage groupie was standing considerably closer than the rest and kept glancing at the way Jameson and I are standing together, I assumed. Either that or there was actually something wrong with her, no one stares that much.

But then when I thought about it, we are both leaned up against the side of his car but what was even
more
obvious, the lack of space separating us.

The girl smiled looking at me. “Are you Jameson’s girlfriend?” she asked diffidently, the corners of her mouth twitching into a wide smile.

Both Jameson and me looked up at her.

I choked on my own spit. Embarrassing I know, and Jameson just chuckled at the shy girl’s brashness.

Neither one of us answered, so the she eventually left.

As I thought about what we were, what would I even say? Fuck buddies? The more I thought about it, the more I agreed with Jameson. It wasn’t anyone’s business what we were doing.