In the Fast Lane (17 page)

“Yes, Ranger. Yes. Fuck me.” She raised up on her hands and turned, panting the words over her shoulder. He grunted again in response, sliding even deeper as she pushed back against him, wanting more. He felt big and hot inside of her, and her clit was already throbbing, aching for release.

She reached down and rubbed, hissing at how sensitive it was, and he surged forward, all the way in.

“Shit, Kerri, you’re so hot. I love when you touch yourself.”

She could feel his cock getting harder inside of her. Bigger. She circled her fingers around her opening, squeezing his shaft where it disappeared into her body, and he moaned as he slowly withdrew until just the tip of him was still buried inside of her. She was so wet that he slid in again easily, grinding against her and making her gasp.

So close.

She sped up her strokes, working her own body as he pushed in and out, setting up a rhythm that drove her higher and higher toward her climax. Almost … almost …

“I’m gonna come all over your big, hard cock,” she told him, and the next thing she knew, she started to slide forward with the force of his fast, frantic thrusts, and she had to curl her free hand into the bedspread to keep from moving up the bed. She was arching high, lifting her ass against him every time he slammed into her, while her hand was busy working her clit, feeling the push and pull of his heavy staff taking her closer to the edge, closer, closer …

Her body jerked and pulsed, and with a long, loud wail she climaxed harder than she’d ever had in her life. At the same time, Ranger ground to a halt and held her hips firmly against him, and she could feel his cock pulsing inside of her, filling her with his come before they both collapsed on the bed.

*   *   *

Ranger walked around to the passenger side of Kerri’s Tesla to open the door for her. They’d flown back to Charlotte yesterday morning, and he’d stayed at her place again last night. There’d been no discussion between them about it—he’d hadn’t bothered to book a hotel, and she hadn’t bothered to ask if he was staying anywhere else.

And tonight, they were going on a date. Nothing outlandish or explosive—they had enough of that in the day-to-day of racing—just a quiet, intimate dinner. He’d shown Kerri the photo on
Sports Monthly
’s website, told her that they needed to be seen out more, looking happy and together.

A few more photo ops of some hand-holding, meaningful looks, any of that crap, wouldn’t hurt …

He’d done what Al had told him to do, and he hated it.

But Kerri hadn’t protested, like he’d expected her to. Hadn’t gritted her teeth or called him names or anything like that. The only thing she’d said was, “I’ll go if you drive. I need a break from being behind the wheel.”

That’s why they were here now, the Tesla parked in front of Carpe Diem, an upscale, intimate restaurant in Charlotte, as he opened her door and offered his hand. She’d dressed up for their evening out, and when she rose from the seat in a flutter of black silk, her hair shining around her shoulders, he forgot that this was supposed to be an obligation.

“Have I told you yet that you look amazing tonight?”

She laughed and took his arm, brushing a kiss on his cheek just before he shut the door and engaged the car alarm. “It’s okay, Ranger. You don’t have to play the doting fiancé. We’re going for photos, not quotes they can use, remember?”

He almost frowned at her words, but caught himself just in time. She was right—they were doing this for the photo ops, and it would be a waste of an opportunity if he was photographed looking angry just seconds after arriving at the restaurant with Kerri on his arm. He schooled his face into a bland expression and covered her hand with his, then started walking toward the restaurant.

“I know we’re not trying to give the press any sound bites. But does that mean I’m not allowed to tell you you’re beautiful?”

He glanced sideways at her just before they reached the door of the restaurant. Her face was lightly flushed, and a small smile was playing around her lips.

Good.

He held open the door for her, and her fingertips grazed his abdomen as she stepped past him.

“Thank you.” Her voice was pitched low and husky, and those commonplace words from her glossy pink lips made him think of a hundred different ways he might be able to get his hand under her skirt during dinner.

He grinned at her, feral and suggestive. “I can assure you that the pleasure is all mine.”

She simply turned and gave him a little smile that hinted of sex and secrets and … well, hell, he couldn’t really focus past the sex part. It wasn’t just the physical pull between them that got to him, either. Maybe she hadn’t had a lot of formal education, but she was infinitely more sharp and funny and driven than anyone he’d ever known. He enjoyed just being with her as much as he enjoyed being on top of her, under her, and everything between.

The nicely dressed host greeted them by name and led them to a quiet, secluded table. Ranger heard a few people whisper as they walked by, and he felt a jolt of pride that he was the one lucky enough to be seen with a woman like Kerri.

The host pulled out a chair for her while Ranger stood across the table, waiting for her to be seated. As she sank into the chair, she leaned forward, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her beautiful breasts, before she settled on the cushion.

She looked up at him, bold as can be, and the heat in her eyes told him everything. She’d done that on purpose. Dinner be damned. He wanted to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her off to some quiet place where he could feast on
her
all night.

Someone cleared their throat, and Ranger shook himself, coming out of his lust-clouded thoughts to realize that the host was now holding out the chair just opposite Kerri, waiting for Ranger to be seated, as well.

Probably a good idea, given that his pants were starting to feel too tight, and not in the way that one would usually expect in a restaurant. He sat quickly, and the host handed each of them a menu, wished them a good meal, and left.

He ordered a bottle of wine from the smooth, polished waiter whose eyes lingered too long on Kerri’s cleavage, making Ranger want to growl and bark at the guy. When the waiter finally left them with two full glasses of cabernet, Ranger lifted his glass to Kerri.

“To our engagement,” he offered, and she took up her glass, as well.

“To us,” was her reply, and they saluted each other, then drank. She watched him the entire time, heavy-lidded eyes seducing him from over the rim of the wineglass.

Damn, she was sexy. He wanted her so bad … and they hadn’t even ordered their meal yet …

Something brushed his leg. He jumped slightly and Kerri gave a throaty laugh, making it dawn on him that it was
her
he was feeling. She had slipped a stockinged foot out of her shoe and was stroking the inside of his shin, moving upward to his thighs …

He barely managed to suppress a groan as the ball of her foot rubbed over his growing erection.

“Hungry?” Her voice was all innocence, but the looks she was throwing him and the pressure of her foot against his groin were driving him insane, and there was no mistaking the double entendre.

God, yes. Ravenous, in fact.

But he could only nod as she pulled her foot away and stroked it against his inner thigh, making his cock jump.

This was going to be a long, torturous dinner.

In the best possible way.

Chapter Fifteen

Kerri had never sat through a more
suggestive
dinner than the one Ranger had taken her out for last Sunday in Charlotte. Sure, it was supposed to be purely business—to give the paparazzi an opportunity to snap a photo or two of her and Ranger looking like a happy couple—but by the end of it, she’d been so hot for him that they’d ended up pulling the car over on an unlit country road so that she could straddle him in the driver’s seat, hot and explosive and—

“Have you heard the news?” Grady plopped down next to her on the couch in the hotel lobby. Both Lee and Kerri were racing this weekend here in Delaware at the Dover Speedway, and they’d flown up this afternoon to get the lay of the land and help the team unload when the track opened tomorrow. They were supposed to go out for a team dinner tonight, but she’d been the first one down in the lobby and had gotten lost in daydreams of Ranger, who was showering up in their room after they’d gotten naked and sweaty and sticky …

“What news?” She hoped Grady wouldn’t notice her pink ears.

He handed her his phone, on which he’d pulled up
All Wheels
magazine’s website.

Well. Looks like dinner had been a success in more ways than one. The picture at the top of the page was of her and Ranger sitting at the table at Carpe Diem, looking completely wrapped up in each other. The caption underneath read,
Has she given him her Hart?
Colt’s days as a stag might be numbered
.

She laughed and handed the phone back to Grady. “I think journalists are having way too much fun with our last names.”

But Grady didn’t join in her laughter, and she nudged him with her elbow. “What’s going on, Grady? Feeling worn down from all the travel?”

He shook his head and stared out the glass front doors in the lobby. “What’s between you and Ranger, anyway?” He fiddled with the phone in his hands and didn’t look at her, so she took the opportunity to roll her eyes.

“That’s none of your business.”

“But I—”

“No. Just … no, Grady. You up and sold us out and didn’t say a word to any of us. You don’t get to butt in now.”

He was silent, flipping the phone over and over. Finally, he nodded. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

God. Poor guy.
It couldn’t be easy, dealing with a family like theirs. She slumped back on the couch and leaned against her brother’s shoulder. “I know. But you’re just going to have to trust me on this one. I know what I’m doing. Ranger and I—this is just a show, remember? I’m taking the opportunity to have a little fun, and when he leaves at the end of the season it’ll be no hard feelings. Whatever is between me and him doesn’t mean anything.
That’s
all you need to know. Okay?”

Grady nodded. “Okay.”

Good. One less person to worry about. Now, if she could just make herself believe her own words, they’d be fine.

*   *   *

She was tearing it up out there.

It had been a crazy week. After the race in Delaware, they’d come straight back down to Charlotte to get ready for Kerri’s race at the Charlotte Speedway. That’s where they were now—Kerri out on the track and Ranger watching from the booth.

He’d recently been approached by a couple of sponsors, but the deals hadn’t been quite what he had hoped for. He was trying to keep them warm while he solicited other offers to balance out what was already on the table, but he could feel the pressure mounting. He’d have to work out something soon or risk losing the companies to other teams.

Between all the travel, PR gigs, and potential sponsor meetings, he’d only had time for two things: racing and Kerri. And unfortunately, he hadn’t had as much time with Kerri as he’d hoped.

Not that he could really complain. After all, they did spend every night together, since this weird on-the-road culture threw them together in a way that they usually wouldn’t have experienced. And when they were back in Charlotte, he stayed at her house, in her bed.

But now, as he sat up on top of the booth, watching her rip around the track, nearing what looked to be another fantastic finish in third place, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted some time away with her, away from racing and spotlights and sponsors, where they could be just Ranger and Kerri.

“Flag is up!” The announcer’s voice boomed over the track, and Ranger shook himself, realizing that the white flag had just gone up. One lap away from the end. He rose, straining to see her car, while Grady pounded on the counter in front of him. “Don’t give it up! Don’t give—goddammit!”

Uh oh. That didn’t sound good.

The cars came around the corner, pushing into the finish, and he saw immediately what had happened. Kerri’s third place had become fourth. Ty Riggs had passed her somewhere on the other side of the track.

Not that he really gave a damn, for the sake of the business. The prize money wasn’t significant enough at this level, anyway, and her proven performance so far was ensuring that being a female driver wasn’t just a novelty. She was a phenomenon.

But she would be pissed, he was sure, that she’d crossed the finish line a hundredth of a second behind Ty Riggs. She was gunning for Rookie of the Year. Ranger wasn’t sure whether to be proud that she was so invested or insulted that she was gunning so hard to win Rookie of the Year so that she’d be rid of him.

He knew it wasn’t fair to think that. She would have worked hard whether or not he’d put that condition on their deal. But he couldn’t help it.

He and Grady had just gone down into the pit when a man approached, a megawatt grin on his face. “Mr. Colt. I’m Hugh Moscowitz. Congratulations on the top-four finish.”

Ranger shook the man’s hand. “Thanks, Mr. Moscowitz. Kerri and the team did a great job.”

“Of course, of course. That’s why I was hoping to talk to you, actually. I represent Natural Light Cosmetics. We’ve been watching Miss Hart for some time, and think she’d make a great spokesperson for our line of long-lasting makeup.”

He’d heard of Natural Light—they were the biggest player in the cosmetics industry, and his own mother used their products—but given what he’d learned about Kerri in the past few weeks, he didn’t think this was going to fly. On the other hand, this was a huge company and Kerri offered a distinct opportunity for Natural Light. The lone woman in a sport dominated by men choosing to wear and endorse Natural Light Cosmetics?

This could be the big sponsor that Hart Racing had been hoping for.

“Sure, I’d love to talk, Mr. Moscowitz—”

“Oh, please, call me Hugh.”

Ranger nodded. “Hugh…” He trailed off, suddenly amused that a paunchy fifty something man was here representing makeup. He barely managed to suppress a grin as he pulled a business card from his wallet. “Here’s my card. Why don’t you call the office next week and we can talk?”