Speed Demons (19 page)

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Authors: Gun Brooke

Tags: #(v5.0), #Accidents, #Fiction, #Lesbian, #LGBT, #Romance, #NASCAR, #Photography, #Woman Friendship

BOOK: Speed Demons
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“And now?” Not sure why it was so hard to speak, why she could only manage single syllables all of sudden, she stroked Blythe’s back. The touch soothed her, calmed her.

“I’m at a crossroads, aren’t I?” Blythe smiled wryly. “I’m trying to remember that I’m a mature middle-aged woman—capable, independent, and answering only to myself. I’m trying very hard to hang on to that, because right now, for many reasons, I feel transported in time back to when I wasn’t.”

“That’s got more to do with where we are, rather than with us.” She was certain of this. “Perhaps also the unexpected attraction has something to do with it.”

“Not so unexpected. Just look at you. Do you think I’m made of stone?” Blythe pursed her lips. “You dressed like this knowing I’d be in here sooner or later. You trying to seduce me or punish me?”

“How could this punish you?” She looked at Blythe’s pale lips. Slowly she was forgetting what they were talking about, her mind focusing on kissing them, feeling them open beneath her own mouth.

“Haven’t you been listening? I want you. That’s hardly a secret anymore. I could sacrifice a lot to have you, but it will
break
me, Evangeline.”

She snapped her gaze up to meet Blythe’s. Somehow it registered that Blythe tended to use her full name when she was emotionally distraught or affected. “I don’t want to break you. Nothing could be further from my mind. I want a lot of things, but I’m not callous. I’m not reckless.” She tried not to become discouraged by the frown that appeared on Blythe’s face. “Please. Give me a chance to prove this.”

“Prove what?”

“I don’t say this easily. Let me prove I’m not all that you fear.”

“How?” Blythe moved closer. Her hands, impossibly small and tender, cupped Evie’s shoulders. “How can you prove any such thing?”

“With time.” That was the only thing she could say and be truthful. How the hell could anyone possibly promise more than that?

“I suppose.” Blythe slid one of her hands up Evie’s neck to touch her cheek, then continued up into her hair, gently scratching her scalp with blunt nails. She shivered at the sensation, closing her eyes briefly.

“That—that feels good.”

“Yes?” Blythe moved again, now sitting so close on the bed, they were practically chest to chest. “At times like this, it’s like I can do anything I want.”

“You can. Anything. Please. Just don’t let go.”

“Why not?”

“It will hurt if you let go.” She wasn’t exaggerating. If Blythe stopped touching her now, when they’d just reconnected and spoken so openly, it would be like ripping off a limb.

“I’m too warm. So hot in here.” Blythe lowered her hands but remained close.

“Take off your shirt.”

“All right.” Blythe pulled off her T-shirt and sat there in only her boxers and a sports bra. Her breasts were fuller than expected, her waist narrow, and the curve of her hips mind-blowing.

A gush of wind hit the windows and made a whistling noise that startled Blythe. She moved farther up on the bed, her eyes wild now. “I hate when it does that.”

“I know.” She wrapped her arms around Blythe and held her tight. “That’s another thing. I’m not just totally hooked on your hot body. I also want to hold you when you need me to chase the demons away.”

“Evangeline.” Blythe’s damp lips caught hers in a smoldering kiss. Blythe brushed against them, traced the outline of her mouth, and took her lower lip gently between her teeth.

Whimpering, she let Blythe lead, sensing the urgency but also how important this was right now. She was quite content to hand herself over to Blythe’s hands and lips. Blythe’s fingers were back in her hair, tugging lightly to tilt her head while she adjusted their angle for access. She groaned and willingly parted her lips. She wanted to taste Blythe again, immerse herself in everything about her. The fruity, flowery scent, combined with the clean hint of soap, overwhelmed her senses.

Scooting back toward the multitude of pillows at the head of the bed, she pulled Blythe with her. She leaned back with Blythe draped over her. Unable to resist, she managed to get one hand in between them to cup Blythe’s left breast.

*

Blythe moaned when Evie touched her breast. She opened her mouth against Evie’s, slipping her tongue inside. She couldn’t keep from deepening the kiss. Exploring Evie’s mouth, her tongue, her teeth, the inside of her lips, she reveled in Evie’s taste. Sweet, with a tinge of chocolate and mint.

“Touch me, Blythe. Please.” Evie spoke breathlessly.

Nervous and turned on, she rested on her elbow and used her other hand to push in under Evie’s loose chemise. The silky fabric easily gave way. Evie’s stomach was smooth, slightly damp and very, very hot. Evie apparently hadn’t counted on her touching naked skin like this, perhaps afraid of her reaction to the scarring in some places. It only bothered her because Evie had been hurt; it didn’t impact the arousal surging within her. So hot, so passionate, it wasn’t difficult to muster enough courage to cup Evie’s breast. She wasn’t wearing anything under the chemise, and Evie’s hard nipple prodded her palm. Squeezing gently, she was taken aback by how Evie whimpered and arched into her hands.

“Blythe!”

“That good?” She forgot about herself, just wanted to please Evie. “Like this?” She rubbed her thumb over Evie’s nipple, slowly, slowly.

“Blythe, oh God, you’re driving me crazy. You’re—oh, yes. There. Right there. Oh, yes. Yes.” Evie murmured incoherently, her hands all over Blythe’s shoulders and waist, tugging her closer. “Mmm, that feels so damn good. Blythe. Yes.”

She lost herself in the passion on Evie’s face. Her eyes were hooded, her lips parted and with the tip of her tongue barely visible between her teeth, and her cheeks flushed. “I need to see more.” She tugged at Evie’s chemise. “May I?”

“Sure.” Sitting up, Evie grabbed the hem of the garment and let her pull it over her head. Static electricity sparkled in her hair before it settled against her shoulders. Evie’s small breasts fit her body perfectly. High on her chest, with dark, hard nipples, they made her mouth water. She cupped the left one and when Evie gasped, she couldn’t resist. Taking it in her mouth, she closed her eyes, savoring the texture, the puckered skin, so satiny, so delicious.

“Blythe. More. More.” Evie arched beneath her, pressing her breast farther into her mouth. She used her tongue, lavishing the nipple with so much attention, Evie began to hum and undulate. “You’re like fire. Your mouth, your lips. Blythe. I need to feel you too. Please?”

She sat up, gazing down at Evie greedily. Not about to deny her anything, she pulled the sports bra over her head. Aware that her breasts were fuller and that she was twelve years older than Evie, she held her breath, telling herself she was ridiculous. Superficial and utterly silly.

“Oh, wow.” Evie sat too, staring at her with bright eyes. “Look at you. You’re gorgeous.” Evie sounded so in awe, and so breathless, she had to smile. Evie was spontaneous in a way she never would be, but that was one of the things she love—

Stopping that train of thought instantly, she was grateful for the distraction when Evie cupped her breasts, then rolled her aching nipples between her fingers. Moisture flooded her boxers so much she became self-conscious and hoped Evie wouldn’t notice. It had been so long since she’d been in this situation, and she certainly couldn’t remember ever being this turned on.

“Kiss me,” she whispered. Evie immediately took her lips and caressed her tongue eagerly with hers, and soon they were moaning into each other’s mouths. Evie tugged and rolled her nipples. Eventually Evie shifted position, moving her lips from her mouth to her breasts. Evie pushed her hands, now free, down her stomach and into her boxers.

She stiffened and pushed her legs together where she was kneeling. “Please?”

“You don’t want me to?” Evie kissed a trail up to her ear. “I want to touch you. I’ll make you feel so good. If you want to.”

“I want to. It’s not that. I really do. I just…it’s been a while, and I’m so wet.” Oh, God, she couldn’t believe she’d said something like that. She wasn’t very comfortable sharing such intimate things, but this was Evie.

“I don’t mind. It’s a great compliment.” Evie wrapped her arms around her and hugged her. “I have a suggestion. Why don’t we turn off most of the lamps, get naked, and go to bed? That way it won’t be so weird with underwear in the way, and it won’t be just in the heat of the moment. You’ll get a few moments to consider, um, stuff.”

She held on to Evie a few moments longer. “Why not?”

Soon, they’d switched off all the little lamps but one at the far end of the room. She pushed off her boxers and quickly slid into bed, hugging the duvet close to her chest. Maybe a break hadn’t been so clever? Her insecurities manifested themselves too easily. When Evie stood naked next to the bed, smiling broadly at her, it didn’t matter how insecure she was. She didn’t intend to let this night go to waste.

*

Evie climbed into bed and took Blythe in her arms. So petite, yet so curvy, she was like a secret little bombshell. Now without her masculine boxers, Blythe was definitely all woman. All feminine beauty. She reached around Blythe and cupped her bottom. Blythe gasped and pressed her face into her neck.

“You feel so good. You all right?” she asked breathlessly.

“Yes.” Blythe shivered against her.

“Mmm. Good.” She pulled Blythe’s leg up over her hip. This made Blythe more accessible and she couldn’t wait to touch her. When she reached Blythe’s thighs the copious wetness surprised her in many ways. She pushed gentle fingers between the drenched folds, mindful of sensitive tissue. It was the most amazing feeling to slide her fingertips back and forth through the heat and the moisture. She pushed herself up on her elbow and gazed down at Blythe. “This good, sweetie?”

“Oh, yes. Please. Don’t stop.”

Don’t stop? She smiled widely and hid her face against Blythe’s neck. She wanted to make this good for Blythe. Wanted her to feel it all the way to her toes and back up again.

Blythe flung her arms tight around her. Her breath came in short, raspy bursts. “Evangeline. What are. You. Doing to. Me?” Her hips moved against Evie’s hand. “It’s like fire.
Fire
, Evie.”

“Then let me help you. Let me in, Blythe. Tell me it’s okay.” She murmured into Blythe’s ear. “Tell me.”

“Oh, God, yes. Go inside. I need you. Please, I need you.” Blythe’s words became incoherent and she pulled her legs up, and out.

Evie made sure she positioned her fingers carefully and pushed inside. Slick, wet walls grasped her, pulling her farther in. “You’re so hot. You feel wonderful.” Moving slowly, she curled her fingers, searching for that spot that would make Blythe feel even better. Blythe suddenly jerked, curling up. She drew new air through her clenched teeth. “Mmm. That good, huh?” Her own thighs became wetter by the second, her folds grew swollen, and her clit ached to be touched. With that in mind, she pressed the pad of her thumb against Blythe’s clitoris in the same rhythm that she moved her fingers.

It was enough. Within seconds, Blythe arched, her inner muscles massaging Evie’s fingers in hard contractions.

“What about you? You, Evangeline?” Blythe gasped, her body shaking.

“You won’t have to do much,” she said, sounding just as breathless. “Just your hand.”

Blythe cupped Evie’s sex gently. Too gentle. She placed her hand over Blythe’s and pressed harder. “Like this. Hard.”

Blythe moved her palm in hard circles, spreading her folds in the process. When Blythe reached her swollen clit, she sobbed and cried out. Flashes of pleasure bordering on pain fired along her abdomen and down her legs. “Blythe. Blythe!” Digging her hands into Blythe’s hair, she pulled her in for a deep, deep kiss. If it ever ended it would be too soon.

Eventually they both needed to breathe and lay still, gasping, while the room’s air began to feel too cold. She pulled the duvet over them and held Blythe close. “Mmm. You okay, sweetie?”

“Yes.”

The short answer would normally have worried her, but she was too tired for any long-winded declarations of appreciation. Instead she ran one hand up and down Blythe’s back, the other still lodged in her hair. Holding Blythe close like this, feeling her breathing and heartbeat slow down to normal, made her feel secure. She kissed the top of Blythe’s hair. There’d be no nightmares tonight.

Chapter Eighteen

 

Pulling up to the beach house, Evie turned to wake Blythe, who had fallen asleep shortly after they left Darlington. They’d been up since six in the morning, and today’s training and workout had been intense. After last night’s lovemaking, no wonder Blythe was exhausted. Evie was beat now. The two-hour ride from the racetrack had taken the last of her strength.

“Hey, Blythe? We’re home.”

“Hmm? Oh. Right.” Blythe winced and rubbed the side of her neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Don’t worry about it. What if we throw a couple of steaks on the…what the hell?” She glanced in the rearview mirror as a car pulled up behind them. “Oh, please. No, no, no. I can’t fucking believe it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Mal. And oh, sweet Jesus, it’s Harrison too.” She groaned and thudded her forehead on the wheel, the slight pain actually helping. “The fun never stops around here.” She jumped out of the car and sauntered over toward the rental car that had parked behind them. Mal stepped out and so did her grandfather.

“Mal. Harrison. What brings you here?” She stopped as she reached their vehicle, folding her arms across her chest and propping her hip against the car.

“Is that a way to greet your grandfather?” Harrison said grumpily. In his late seventies, he was still a handsome man. She and Mal had inherited their coloring from him, but that’s where the similarities began to wane.

“Excuse me, Harrison. Hello. I don’t think you’ve met Blythe. Blythe, this is my grandfather, Harrison Marshall. Harrison, this is Blythe Pierce. My father you’ve met, right?”

“I certainly have. Nice to meet you, Mr. Marshall. And Mr. Marshall.”

“You better call us by our first names,” Harrison said. He didn’t extend his hand but raked his eyes up and down Blythe’s form. “You can’t be much of a driver or do much good in the pit.”

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