SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance) (39 page)

“Why not?”

“A couple of reasons,” I explained. “One, I was pretty sure they would want me to give up racing, which I’m not ready to do. Two, I’m never entirely sure if they are into me or my money, and I only have an expensive divorce to look forward to in six months’ time.”

“Come on.” Summer smiled. “You can’t be worth that much.”

“I can.” I smiled back. “Why do you think I didn’t want to tell you much about me when we first met?”

“I thought it was a turn on,” she said, just as our mustachioed waiter arrived to take the order. He gave a subtle huff of distaste. I guessed, even though we were in Argentina, that he must really be French. To my surprise, Summer ordered both the soup and the steak, indicating that she was ravenous. I was racing in an hour, so I just ordered a green salad.

“It was one hell of a turn on,” I agreed when we were alone again, “but I didn’t want you to know about me unless you decided you really liked me, regardless of my money. Now that you’re here and you wouldn’t even let me buy your ticket, I know you do.”

“Hey, don’t go jumping the gun there, buddy.” She smiled again, teasing me, before dropping her voice to a low whisper. “I like your dick. I haven’t actually made up my mind about the rest of you yet.”

Goddamn, this girl made me hot. I could feel my cock stiffening. Unfortunately, in my leathers, there was nowhere for it to go.

“Good enough,” I replied. I could feel her foot working my leg again. How did she get her boot off without me noticing?

“So,” she continued as though nothing was going on under the table, “how much are you worth, then?”

“Me personally? Or my family?”

She thought for a moment. “You.”

“About two billion dollars, give or take.”

“Wow.” She kept her cool. “And your family?”

“About twenty times that.”

Summer

It was hard to keep a straight face as James told me how much money he really had. I had realized he was rich, but not that rich. Didn’t matter to me, of course. I’d feel the same about him if he worked in a fast food joint. It was just a little disarming. You hear about billionaires, but you don’t run in to them in the real world. They’re like an urban legend. I could see, though, why he didn’t like to let on to prospective hookups. There were hundreds of girls around any world-class sport who would get on their knees for a rich athlete. If any of them met an actual billionaire, they’d go nuts.

But it was so good to see him. On the plane, I hadn’t been able to eat or sleep because every second brought me nearer to him. And when I found him looking all cute and scruffy instead of his usual, polished façade, I couldn’t have been happier. I felt an ache, a huge, surging longing in the deepest parts of me, and I had to fight really hard to stop myself from boning him right there.

So we had kissed instead. For the first time. We both knew it was right, and, boy, was it some kiss. His full lips felt like they were made for mine. The kiss was so good I almost swooned. I know girls in the twenty-first century didn’t swoon anymore, but I don’t know how else to describe it. I almost cursed the fact that we’d been missing out on that kind of kissing this whole time.

“Summer?” he said, and I could listen to him saying my name over and over again. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do under the table, but these leathers mean you may as well be trying to give a toe-job to a department store mannequin.”

“Damn things!” I smiled at him. “Take them off at once!”

He laughed deeply, loudly, and genuinely. I thought maybe this could work. This could lead to the happiest I’d ever been. Then my soup and his salad arrived, so I ceased my sub-table flirtation. As we settled into eating, he asked about my issues with racing, and gradually the story about my parents and my father’s death came out. I kept it together, but he looked horrified.

“So all this time you’ve been afraid to get hurt because you were convinced men always cheat? And you’ve only just found out that your dad never cheated at all?” He sounded like it was hard to swallow, and I couldn’t say I blamed him.

“That’s about the size of it,” I confirmed, straight-faced.

“And if racing hadn’t killed him, your whole outlook on life and relationships might have been different?”

“Yup,” I confirmed again. “And here’s the kicker…” I told James how his racing was going to remain a problem because of the chance he could get hurt. Despite what he said, I couldn’t help wanting him to stop, even if it made him resent me.

“I knew it would come to this eventually.” He sighed while I finished my steak, which was actually pretty good. “But I can’t deal with it now. I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I have to go,” he apologized. “Qualifying starts in ten minutes.”

He paid the bill, and we jumped on his dirt bike and buzzed back over to the pits. I couldn’t stop myself from trembling when he kissed me again, despite the dour direction our conversation had taken. He suited up and roared out onto the track. My heart was in my mouth and I couldn’t breathe. What if something happened to him? What if I was about to watch him die so soon after I’d decided I wanted to be with him? It was a lot to deal with.

Keith and Ray and their two assistants were so kind. They fell over themselves to make me feel welcome, getting me a chair, drinks, showing me where to watch from, and explaining how the whole process worked. The big screen that displayed the riders as they flew around the circuit didn’t show James very often. It concentrated on the fast boys instead of the also-rans, so we only saw him each time he rounded the last bend and blasted down the straightaway. I swear I’d never seen anything move so fast before he’d hit his brakes and slowed dramatically for turn one. As he circled, faster and faster, my fear began to fade. In its place came a feeling of pride. He looked so fluid and in control, so focused, just like when we made love. I started to get a little wet and began wishing this qualification thing was over, not so he wouldn’t get hurt but so he could fuck me.

Soon enough, he came hurtling back up to the garage. He leaped off his bike, ripped off his helmet, and we fell into each other again, making out like high school kids. He smelled of smoke, gas, and sweat, so masculine I wanted to lick all the beading moisture off his face.

“Good job, boss,” announced Keith, pointing to the place board.

“Gosh, twelfth on the grid?” exclaimed Other James. “Way to go! You’re ahead of Blake, and you’re ahead of both the Suzuki factory bikes and the Pramac Ducatis!”

It was clearly a good result. James made a surprised face at me, and we kissed again. Damn, I needed to get his clothes off soon.

“It must be Summer,” said Ray.

James broke off his kiss. “What was that?” he asked.

“She’s clearly motivation or good luck or something,” Ray explained, and the others nodded. “So you’ll have to keep her around.”

I laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. “I was just telling him the same thing!”

It felt good, this moment. It felt almost like the times when I was younger and we were at a race with my dad.

“I need you to take me away and fuck me hard, right now,” I whispered in James’s ear. He obliged immediately, sprinting off to rinse and change. He was back in five minutes, wearing tan slacks, sneakers, and a clean white shirt. He ushered me out of the garage. But something caught my eye and I stopped him.

Three garages over, someone was pointing at us. I focused and saw it was the girl from the Four Seasons—Suzi. She pointed at us—at me—and said something to another racer. I alerted James, and he stared over at them.

“Fuck is she doing here?” he spat. She was clearly not his favorite person. “More importantly, what’s she doing here with Blake?”

We decided to concern ourselves with them later. We had more pressing business that needed to be attended to—specifically, me. I took a taxi from the airport, so we loaded my case into his rental car and headed to the spa resort where he was staying. As we neared the track exit, he had to drive one-handed as I gently sucked on the first two fingers of his right hand and wouldn’t give them up. At that moment, I loved the guy who invented the automatic transmission.

Out on the road, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes as I guided his strong hand under my top and over my bra-less breasts to tease my dormant nipples lightly back into life. The landscape outside the circuit was flat and devoid of human life. Dust-covered rocks broke up dry fields full of low green bushes and dry trees. I moved his fingers down to my skirt and slid them under it. He breathed softly as he felt my naked, moist pussy, and I saw an impressive lump in the front of his pants. Opening my legs as wide as I could in the passenger seat, I let out a soft moan as I moved his fingers over my aching clit and pushed them inside my soft lips. I held his hand there and bent over to him.

“I think you should stop the car,” I purred into his ear.

He pulled over and shut off the engine. I released his trapped fingers and tried to undo his zipper, but he stopped me.

“Come with me,” he said, softly but firmly. We got out of the car. He took a blanket from the trunk and led me away from the road into the brush, pushing the button to lock the car behind us.

We carved through the bushes until we found a small clearing beneath one of the old, dry trees. James spread the blanket beneath it. We weren’t far from the road, but when we sat on the blanket, we were completely hidden by wild shrubbery. I thought about the dangers of snakes and stuff, but before I knew it, his hungry mouth was on mine again, banishing all thought.

We kissed hard, tongues probing, mouths feeding on each other. I ripped at his shirt, pulling it open, while he hiked up my top, freeing my tits to the warm afternoon air. His hands were all over me, pawing at me, and I responded, pushing into every touch like I hadn’t felt another person’s skin in years.

His mouth worked its way down my body, licking, sucking, and biting my sensitive breasts, drawing groans of pleasure from my mouth. I was holding his head, my fingers in his hair, and subtly easing him down still further. I lay back on the blanket as he moved his mouth down my stomach, slid my short skirt up, and softly brushed his lips over my smooth pussy. He stopped for a second and just stared, like he’d never seen a naked vagina before. He looked up at me and our eyes met, his completely filled with lust.

“You are just so beautiful in every possible way,” he said. I opened my mouth to respond but he stopped me, in a very nice way, indeed.

His mouth touched me so tenderly, I quivered. No tongue—he kissed my most intimate parts with his full lips, as soft as could be. As if he were kissing my mouth, he increased pressure, occasionally sliding his tongue in a little deeper, tantalizing my desperate pussy and sending thrills to the very edges of my body. He increased the intensity slowly, adding just enough sweet pressure on my clit to cause small ripples of pleasure to the point I couldn’t sit up any longer. I lay back, and his hand fondled my waiting tits. I took his hand and pushed it against my body, caressing myself with my other hand. He drew long moans from my throat as I realized I hadn’t had a decent orgasm since our first night together, and I could feel all that pent up frustration crashing against the walls of my trembling pussy, threatening to break through at any moment, like the ocean battering relentlessly at some crude dam.

His speed and ferocity increased, and I could feel myself getting closer and closer, waves of ecstasy threatening to flood through me with every caress of his tongue until…

“Ohhhh! Fuck!” I screamed as my tormented pussy exploded against his mouth. My hips bucked uncontrollably, forcing my body off the ground. He stayed attached to my pussy, his tongue pushing me further and further out of myself. He slipped two fingers inside me easily and fucked me with them. I was swearing, grinding against him, pulling his hair, completely losing myself in rapture. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, all I could do was come.

An eternity passed, filled with my cries, screams, and shrieks until I could take no more and pulled my poor, savaged pussy away from him. I panted while he kissed my sweat-washed, heaving bosom. I had never come so hard without a dick in me. That was very nearly the most intense orgasm of my life and, the good news was, we’d only just begun.

My pussy felt numb, in need of a rest, totally spent, until I ran my hands over the firm chest and hard abs under James’s ripped shirt and down to the belt and zipper on his pants. I pulled them open, with a little help, and his gorgeous prick sprang out like a hard, excited puppy. My pussy was no longer numb. It was suddenly open and twitching again, waiting to be filled and fucked back into shape.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I said, not sure if I was addressing James or his cock. “Fuck me now, baby. I need you, badly.”

He knelt between my spread legs and positioned himself at my slick hole. His firm tip grazed my clit again, deliciously, causing me to inhale sharply. He used the end of his dick to caress my slippery opening, and soft moans escaped from both of us. It was amazing, but my pussy ached to feel him inside it.

As if reading my mind, he made me gasp as he slid himself in—not too fast, not too slow. My mind ridiculously thought of the old train entering a tunnel sex analogy, because he just kept pushing into me, further and further, deeper and deeper, never stopping, until, eventually, I groaned and hit him on the shoulder as he reached a barrier deep inside me. I wanted to cry ‘Oh, my god, I’m so full,’ but all I managed was an indiscernible string of consonants as he began to slide back out. He drove in faster this time, sending shivers of pleasure through me.