#Swag (GearShark #3) (21 page)

Joey

I’m coming for you.

So ominous. So delicious.

The promise Jace whispered into my ear thumped just beneath my skin like a second pulse. I felt it there hammering away beneath my outer layer, but it wasn’t annoying. I reveled in it.

By the time he made good on his promise and found me, I’d be so worked up I wouldn’t need foreplay. God, I wanted him. I wanted the overwhelming size of his unbending cock pounding inside me.

I wanted his hands in my hair, his lips on mine, and more than anything, I wanted to hear him say my name about a thousand times before the night was done.

By the time the race was wrapped, the equipment and trucks were packed, all the fans had left the stands. I knew some would be loitering out in the parking lot; some with special pit passes still milled around. But this place was about eighty percent emptier than it had been before.

The scent of burning fuel, hot rubber, and exhaust still lingered. Dust still drifted across the wide-open spaces to occasionally hit me in the face, and the sound of laughter still echoed.

Drew was celebrating his second victory. He was now two for two. My father was going to be happier than a pig with organic feed and fresh mud to roll in. Everybody in the pit was sky high, and most of us were hoarse from cheering so loud when they handed Drew his shining trophy.

Right up on the podium, Jace stood beside him, his grin less smirky and his eyes less broody than I was used to, but he still made my heart race.

The longer hair on top of his head was all mussed and crazy, his face was streaked with sweat and dust, but his smile was genuine. The way he and Drew shook hands and posed for pictures was honest.

After a while, we made it back to the hotel, this great place that had a lodge feel. Even though it was summer, the huge stone fireplace crackled with a fire at the main entrance. I was pretty sure they were running the AC and the fireplace at once, but I understood why. The ambience of the glowing fire was a wonderfully welcome sight.

All the floors in this hotel were hardwood, something I didn’t see much. Usually, it was carpet or tile, but the distressed wood floors were perfect for this place. Everything was neutral, done in warm tones with pops of red.

My suite was on the same floor as Drew and Trent’s. We rode up the elevator together and parted ways down the hall.

“We’re gonna stay in,” Drew told me when I stopped at my door. “Order some room service, chill.”

I nodded. “Of course. You’re probably both exhausted. I’m probably going to do the same.”

They both looked a little guilty standing there, feeling like jerks for leaving me on my own. I thought they were cute and obviously still so wrapped up in each other they still needed alone time. “Go.” I shooed them off. “Have some guy time.” I winked. “We’ll have breakfast in the morning.”

“Not too early,” Drew grumped.

Trent laughed.

I nodded sagely. “Just knock on your way down, and I’ll meet you in the dining room.”

I was mildly surprised when Trent stepped forward, kissed me on the top of the head, and whispered, “Good luck.”

I glanced up at him, and he winked.

He couldn’t possibly know what Jace said. He couldn’t conceivably know I was waiting for him.

Could he?

I watched the guys walk to their room. Drew opened the door, let out a long sigh, and went in. Trent stopped in their doorway, glanced back, and chuckled.

He totally knew.

Perceptive or psychic?

I made a face. He laughed again, then disappeared inside the room.

Inside my own room, I glanced around, noting the large king-size bed in the center. It was done all in white with a red throw at the foot of the bed. The room was pretty much standard for any hotel, just with a lodge feel.

I glanced over at the room service menu, my stomach growling. But my skin felt gritty with a fine layer of dust. Shower first, food after.

With my shower shoes in hand I went into the bathroom, kicked off my race day clothes, and slid on the shoes. Once the water for the shower was on, I brushed out my hair, surprised it was still straight and sleek. I wasn’t about to wash away the style. Instead, I wrapped my hair in a small towel and secured it with a clip from my bag.

The water felt good, the soap even better. I loved the track, but it was dirty, and I didn’t love feeling grimy. It didn’t take long to clean up, especially since I didn’t have to complete the task of my hair. Soon as I was toweled off, I smoothed some freshly scented body lotion into my skin and completed the rest of my routine.

After brushing out my hair a second time, I dug for some clothes. After putting on a white bra with a sheer lace band beneath the cups (that I thought accentuated the way my waist curved in) and a matching pair of panties, I chose a pair of dark cut-off jean shorts and a silky dark-green top with cap sleeves.

Just as I finished, his text came through.

The second I typed out my room number and hit send, I tossed the phone down like a teenager and rushed into the bathroom. It only took a few seconds to get some BB cream on my fingertips and rub it into my face.

BB cream = a fancy tinted moisturizer.

I wasn’t big on makeup, but I liked to look nice and put together. The BB cream gave me a natural glow and just evened out my skin tone. When that was done, I quickly dusted on a bit of bronzer and some lip balm that tinted my lips pink because it was cherry flavored.

When the knock echoed through the room, the stuff fell out of my hand, landing in front of me. Quickly, I capped it, glanced up to make sure everything was on right (hey, I barely looked when I put it on!), and then fled the small bathroom.

Jace was leaning in the doorjamb when I pulled it open. The movement seemed to bring a burst of his scent right at me. My fingers tightened on the handle, holding me steady as the rest of me took in all of him.

Loose jeans that didn’t seem very committed to staying high up on his hips, a black T-shirt pulled taut across his chest, flirting with the waistband of those teasing jeans, as if it, too, were in on the game of maybe concealing his skin from my sight.

The jacket he wore wasn’t black, but white with black seaming and two black bands around his left sleeve. The cuffs were rolled up enough that his forearms were showing, and black Converse covered his feet.

Clearly, he was also fresh from the shower. Not only did he smell good, but his hair was still damp, as if he’d rubbed a towel over the wet strands at the top and brushed them back, away from his face.

I noticed then the way we were just now. Standing in a doorway, eyes roaming the other like we were completely new to each other.

It felt that way… like I hadn’t already been thoroughly sexed up by him. Like I was waiting for that first touch.

“Josie,” he finally said, his voice deep like the smoothest liquor, his eyes hungry like a wolf.

“Jace,” I replied.

We had a thing with each other’s names. Probably because with them came exclusivity. Names weren’t supposed to be exclusive; they were attached to us at our first breath as identifiers. A name was a person’s calling card, a signature that went beyond scrawling a line of letters on a page.

It was different with Josie and Jace. It wasn’t just the names that were exclusive; it was the people we were when we used them. Like letting someone into a place no one was ever granted access. It was the possibility that the person standing right here in front of me saw me better than anyone else.

Whenever my name slid off his tongue, I felt as if chains were being unshackled from my wrists. I felt the things no one knew I hid became transparent, leaving the only thing for him to see was all of it.

All of me.

He pushed off the doorjamb, his movements almost lazy. One hand curled around my side. Through the silky fabric of my shirt, his fingers pressed as he stepped forward, bringing me in.

All at once, his body brushed close, his mouth teasing mine. Thoroughly, his lips rubbed over me, the flavor of my cherry gloss exploding between us, adding yet another layer to the already satisfying kiss. I sighed into him, and he smiled but didn’t stop kissing, instead increasing the pressure times two. My hand grabbed his hip, my finger sliding through the belt loop on the side. The jeans stopped teasing and slid down so my thumb could caress the newly exposed skin at his hip.

Jace cupped my face, shifting even closer, the pads of his thumbs pressed beneath my cheek bones, right in the hollow space, and coaxed my jaw to open.

Fluidly, his tongue invaded, massaged against mine, and everything went fuzzy.

My free hand fisted in the front of his worn T-shirt while we stood halfway in my room and halfway in the hall and made out like two teenagers who were victims of their hormones.

But,
oh
, I wasn’t Jace’s victim. I was an instigator. And judging by the way he kissed me just now, I would also call myself a victor.

My skin felt flushed when he lifted his head. I couldn’t even be upset when he shifted back an inch because I loved just watching his body move. My hand loosened against his shirt and slid down to fall away. He caught it, linked our fingers together, and gave my arm a tug.

“C’mon,” he said, motioning to the hallway. “Let’s go.”

I felt my nose wrinkle. “Go where?”

“You’ll see.”

I started forward, only to stop and turn back. “Wait.”

“You don’t need any of that shit girls carry around. I got cash.”

My stomach flipped a little. Such a stupid, silly thing to stumble over. I mean, really. It was hardly the first time anyone had offered to pay for a date.

Wait. Is this a date? Oh, man, I should have made more effort with my face.

This didn’t feel like that. It didn’t feel like impatience for him to get me moving either. It was like he was taking on responsibility for me tonight. Like he would make sure we had everything we needed wherever we went as long as I stayed at his side.

The feeling weighed a lot. But not in a too heavy to move kind of way. In a grounding kind of way, like maybe I’d found a place I belonged.

Funny, I never knew I was searching.

I didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, I tugged back, trying to bring him with me.

“I need shoes.”

He glanced down. I wiggled my toes at him, and he chuckled.

“Those look like shoes.” He pointed out, still looking at the black flip-flops I wore in the shower.

“Yeah, for in the shower.”

“You have shoes for the shower?” He wondered, allowing me to pull him back inside the room just a foot.

“I’ve seen pictures of toe fungus.” I shuddered, kicking them off only to slip my feet into another pair of flip-flops. These were a little more stylish, though, with brown leather soles and straps. In the center was a dark-green gem I thought looked pretty when the light caught it.

I reached for my phone, still on the bed where I threw it.

He made a sound. “Shoes, yes. Phone, no.”

“No phone?” I gasped like I was outraged.

His white teeth flashed. They were perfectly straight, like mine. His father probably insisted on braces, something we had in common.