Revving it Up Page 2

  “You said ‘anything’, correct?” he asked, emphasizing his Southern drawl with deliberate intent. She’d once declared his accent “as sexy as all hell” during an interview. Of course, that was before he’d kissed her in Tennessee. Before the infamous are-males-better-than-females question.

  Jaw bunching, Sami grabbed the arms of his chair and moved her face closer to his. So close he could feel her indignant pants on his lips.

  His cock throbbed.

  “Anything,” she snarled.

  “Even this?” he asked, a second before he snared a fistful of the cropped mess of hair at the back of her head and yanked her mouth to his.

  Chapter Two

  “Anything,” Jay muttered, tossing Sami’s helmet to one of his crew. “Friggin’ anything.”

  His crew, the best team of mechanics he’d ever worked with, stood back. He didn’t have a bad temper, but they knew when he needed to storm.

  The garage space at Sydney Stadium—Team Charlton’s permanent base—was big enough to accommodate all of Sami’s bikes and gear, all of his equipment and, it seemed, his current pissed-off state.

  “Anything,” he muttered, picking up a carburetor adjustment screwdriver from a nearby counter, only to glare at it and toss it back down.

  “You okay, boss?”

  Jay raked his hands through his hair—Christ, when had it gotten so shaggy?—and flung a disgruntled glance at the open garage door.

  Anything.

  He knew exactly what Eli would want if she lost the race.

  What the hell had Sam been thinking?

  You know what she’d been thinking. You saw it in her eyes. Every damn emotion and thought she ever has is telegraphed on her face. She was looking at you, and for the first time since you started working for her, you saw in her eyes…

  Jay’s pulse quickened.

  Desire. He’d seen desire.

  Raw and hot and unexpected.

  It had distracted her, as much as it had unarmed him.

  His boss had been looking at him with open sexual interest, had been distracted by it enough to make that ridiculous bet, and then Swanson had called and no matter what Jay said, she’d agreed to go see him to discuss the challenge.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, heading for the door.

  “Boss?”

  “Reg, you get to shut up shop,” he threw over his shoulder, not slowing down. “And if any of you see Sam before you see me again, you are under orders to ocky-strap her to the chair in my office and keep her there.”

  He didn’t wait to see his crew’s reaction. His body, however, made it clear how it felt about tying Sami Charlton to a chair with bungee cords. Or any kind of cord…or rope…

  Jesus.

  Ignoring the purely physical response—difficult as it was; walking with a semi-hard-on was never easy—Jay exited the garage and headed for the corporate box Eli Swanson was ensconced in.

  He had to stop Sami agreeing to the stupid bet.

  Before the Yank bastard got his mitts into her again.

  An image of Swanson and Sami writhing completely naked on a bed filled Jay’s head, and his feet stumbled beneath him midstride.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, trying to clear his head.

  But it didn’t matter how much he scrunched his eyes shut and grimaced around gritted teeth, in his mind, Eli Swanson traced the tip of his tongue the length of Sami’s inner thigh until his face was buried between her spread legs and Sami arched on the mattress, kneading her own breasts as she rolled her head from side to side and begged him to make her—

  Jay burst into a sprint, his cock no longer semi-hard but a rigid shaft. Harder than it had a right being, given the way his mind was torturing him.

  Taking the concrete stairs leading up to Swanson’s private box two at a time, Jay balled his fists to the point of pain. It didn’t help. By the time he arrived at the corporate box’s closed door, the image in his mind had become something more than torturous. Something beyond arousing.

  Something too appealing. Too inviting.

  An image involving not just Eli and Sami, but…

  It’s reminding you how fucking amazing it is to share a woman with Swanson. And how much you want Sami for yourself.

  Stupid fucking mind.

  Heart wild, balls throbbing, he hammered the side of his fist against the closed door.

  In his mind, Swanson lifted his head from between Sami’s thighs…just as Sami reached for Jay’s erect cock and slid her lips over its bulbous crown.

  Eyes closed, Jay mashed his forehead against the door and let out a tormented groan.

  No. No, he didn’t want to go there.

  Bullshit. Has your cock ever been harder?

  He hammered his fist against the solid wood again. “Sam,” he shouted, and even to his own ears, her name sounded more like a wretched plea. “Don’t let the fucking bastard—”

  The door swung open.

  Jay tumbled over the threshold, catching his balance a second before he slammed into a soft, warm body.

  “Jay?” Sami’s voice flayed at his senses as strong fingers wrapped around his biceps.

  In one savage move, he grabbed Sami around the waist, yanked her to his body and crushed her mouth with his.

  She stilled against him for barely a heartbeat, body stiff and rigid, and then tangled her fingers in his hair and met his fierce hunger with equal greed.

  Again, for barely a heartbeat.

  Tearing her lips from his, Sami pressed her palms to his chest and pushed their upper bodies apart. She gaped up at him, confusion warring with another emotion Jay couldn’t identify in her eyes. “What the fuck, Jay?”

  “I think,” Eli’s broad Southern accent filled the strangled silence, “that Rutledge is doing his best to mark his territory.”

  Red rage flooded Jay. Tainted sour by the mocking truth of Eli’s declaration.

  He flung a glare at the American, even as his body thrummed hotter with a primitive need. “Unless you want me to break that pretty-boy jaw of yours, Swanson, I’d suggest you—”

  “Whoa whoa whoa.” Sami squirmed out of Jay’s arms, incredulous shock on her face as she made a T with her hands. “Time out.”

  Eli chuckled, the sound smug.

  Turning away from the bastard, Jay balled his fists at his sides, too close to a violent edge he feared he’d fall over if he weren’t careful.

  “Sam,” he began, reaching for his boss’s hand. “I need…I should have…”

  Sami frowned, retracting her hand before his fingers could find hers. “What’s going on, Jay? You just storm in here and kiss me? Since when do you carry on like some kind of caveman? Wanna drag me out of the room by my hair as well?”

  Chest tight, Jay drew in a slow breath. “Okay, I know that came out of nowhere, but I also know Swanson wants to get in your pants. A lot.”

  Sami cocked an eyebrow. “And if I want him to?” she asked, her tone ambiguous. “What business is that of yours?”

  Jay swallowed. For the first time since knowing her, he couldn’t read what was going on in her head. Not at all.

  Uh-oh.

  Mouth dry, he studied her face. “Do you?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Rutledge.” She planted her palms on his chest and shoved. Hard. “If you’d come barging through the door five seconds earlier, you would have witnessed Swanson doubled-over in pain thanks to my knee firmly slamming into his nuts after he kissed me.”

  Jay blinked.

  Sami stabbed a finger at him. “And you’re bloody lucky you didn’t get the same.” Throwing a glance at Eli, she shook her head. “What is it with you two? Anyone would think I’m a piece of meat to fight over.”

  Ignoring the churning sensation in his gut, Jay fixed her with a hard stare. “Do you want him to get in your pants?” he repeated. “I know what you’re like, Sam. I know a knee to the nuts could quite easily constitute foreplay to you.”

  “Now that’s interesting.” Eli’s Southern
drawl scraped at Jay’s sanity. “And good to know. You can leave now, Rutledge. Your boss and I have something to continue.”

  Jay snarled at Swanson. “Watch it, Swanson.

  “Oh, for the love of God,” Sami snapped. “Can you two get your fucking testosterone under control for a moment?”

  Mouth dry, gut clenched, Jay turned back to his boss. “If you accept his bet, boss,” he said, desperate to recoup some semblance of professional dignity, “he’s going to use it to sleep with you, knee to the nuts or not.”

  Sami arched an eyebrow. “And I’m guessing by the way you came barging in just now, balls swinging, you don’t want me to sleep with him. And by sleep, we all know you mean fuck, right?”

  Jay let out a ragged breath. This wasn’t going the way he’d planned.

  Planned? Huh, you didn’t have a plan. You just ran up here, horny for reasons you don’t want to admit and—

  “And just so we’re clear,” Sami continued, her tone growing more calm and enigmatic with every word, her eyes equally unreadable, “the reason you think Eli will get to fuck me is because you believe he’ll win the bet—not me?”

  A hot lump filled Jay’s throat. Christ, he hadn’t thought any of this through.

  “Correct?”

  He swallowed. Stared at his boss. Balled his fists.

  “No, not correct,” he said, voice a dry scratch. “I didn’t think that. I don’t think that. I just know how much Swanson wants you for his own.”

  Sami’s expression didn’t waver. “Enough to cheat?”

  Shaking his head, Jay turned for the door. “Forget it. Forget I was here. Get back to doing whatever it is you were both doing before I arrived.”

  “Wait a minute, Rutledge.”

  He stopped at Sami’s stern order. Swallowed again. Pivoted on his heel and met her gaze.

  A light burned in her blue eyes, the same fire that danced there every time she mounted her bike. “Who says you’re allowed to go?”

  Jay drew a slow breath as she walked slowly toward him. He craved her on a level he didn’t want to admit.

  “What if,” she went on, tiptoeing her fingers up the center of his chest, her eyes holding him prisoner, “I want to change the bet?”

  “Change?”

  Jay flinched at Eli’s question. Christ, he’d forgotten the guy was in the room.

  No, you hadn’t. You’re trying to pretend you don’t want him in the room. You’re trying to pretend you don’t want—

  Sami’s lips curled in a slow smile as her fingertips made their way over Jay’s chin and up to his lips.

  He resisted the urge to suck them into his mouth. Just.

  “Change,” Sami repeated with a single nod.

  “In what way?” Eli asked.

  Jay couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t tear his stare from her eyes and the wild, hungry fire in their depths.

  “If I lose,” she said, inching her fingers back down Jay’s chin, his chest, down to his abs, his belt buckle… “You, Eli, get to decide what anything means and I will honor it.”

  Jay bit back a groan. “Sam,” he breathed. “No.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. The heat in her eyes flared hotter. “But if I win—and I will—you both sleep with me. At the same time. And by ‘sleep’, I mean fuck, and by ‘same time’ I mean you both dedicate yourself simultaneously to giving me the best sex of my fucking life. Together.”

  Sami stared up into her mechanic’s face. Waited for him—and Eli—to respond.

  She fully accepted that what she’d just proposed was insanity, but when a girl was pushed to the limit, sometimes insanity was the only option. She had no fucking clue how to deal with the sudden and completely unexpected situation in which she now found herself. Two guys—one she despised despite his sexy accent and sexier body, and one she’d firmly thought belonged only on the friend bench—were now both trying to lay claim to her?

  It was enough to make her head spin. And, she discovered, her pussy throb.

  She wasn’t prepared for that. The best way to get them off her case, to halt the sexual pissing contest and give her some time to digest the way her body was reacting to both of them, was to throw them completely for a loop with a ludicrous suggestion.

  There was no way, no way, they’d ever agree to a threesome. No way. Eli Swanson was too much an egotistical alpha male to consider it, and Jay was just too damn sweet.

  “Are you seriously suggesting what I think you are?”

  At Eli’s question—uttered with disquieting calm—Sami’s heart slammed into her throat.

  Why didn’t he sound shocked? Or repulsed? Jesus, why the hell did he actually sound…interested? What the hell?

  Fixing him with a steady gaze, she let out a scoffing snort. “Eli, the only way I’d ever fuck you is if Jay fucked me too. There’s no way you’re man enough for me. I’d need my mechanic to finish the job.”

  The second the slur on his manhood passed her lips, she realized it probably wasn’t the smartest move she’d made that day.

  Smart? Huh, more like waving a red flag in front of a bull.

  “Christ, Sam,” Jay groaned beside her. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Sami truly didn’t know. The situation had somehow taken on a surreal life of its own.

  God, if only her stupid pussy would stop throbbing and pulsing and carrying on at the thought of both men doing her.

  Still staring at Eli, determined not to let him see just how deep she’d thrown herself into the proverbial shit with no sign of a paddle in sight, Sami arched her eyebrow. “Well?”

  For fuck’s sake, woman. Shut up!

  Eli studied her. Motionless. His eyes raked over her, from top to toes and back to her face again. Not a hint of what he was thinking showed in his expression.

  “I am more than enough man for you, Charlton,” he finally said, that drawl of his more pronounced than ever. “But at least if Rutledge is joining in, it might keep your mouth busy. Shut you up for a while.”

  Sami’s stomach lurched. And then rolled. And then lurched again.

  Oh God, had he just agreed to her ridiculous proposition?

  Had he?

  At her side, Jay let out another groan. This one, however, was less incredulous disbelief and more…sexual hunger.

  Feeling as if she were suddenly wrapped in hot cotton wool, Sami swung her stare to her mechanic.

  Found him watching her, unmistakable need on his face.

  Holy fuck, what had just happened?

  “Are you in, Rutledge?”

  At Eli’s calm question, Jay’s Adam’s apple jerked up and down the strong column of his throat. With a barely perceptible glance toward Eli, he nodded.

  Once.

  A tsunami of nervous disbelief rolled through Sami. She gaped at her mechanic, mouth dry, pulse pounding.

  What the hell?

  What the fucking hell?

  Eli chuckled, the sound at once smug and humored. “Done.”

  Sami swallowed. Oh God, how would she get herself out of this madness?

  Get yourself out? Is that what you really want?

  Pulse doing its best to punch a hole in her throat, she returned her stare to the American.

  He studied her, lips curled in an insufferable smirk.

  “Unless,” he said, lifting his eyebrows in a mocking show of realization, “you were only trying to bluff us? Perhaps you’re not enough woman to handle us both?”

  Infuriated determination flooded Sami. She snapped her spine straight. “Your lips. My arse. Fuck-knuckle.”

  He laughed. “I take it that’s a yes, then?”

  “It is.”

  Sami’s tummy erupted in fresh flurries of nerves the moment the words left her. Her pussy, however, pulsed with an urgency she had never experienced before.

  She gulped in a breath, that hot-cotton-wool sensation wrapping around her tighter.

  Holy crap, she’d just agreed to a threesome with Eli and Jay.


  She’d just agreed to let both men make love to her at the same time.

  Not just agreed to it, suggested it.

  Was this what her best friend, Phoebe, meant when she’d declared Sami lived her life purely on impulse?

  Cause holy fuck, what she’d just proposed was the epitome of impulsive.

  “If I beat you,” Eli went on, stalking toward where she stood—numb and on fire all at once, “I get to decide what you have to do as the loser. If you beat me, Rutledge and I get to…” His gaze raked over her once more, a linger caress that made her want to rub her thighs together. “Be your sexual slaves.”

  Sami barely bit back her whimper at the term.

  At her side, Jay let out a strangled sound of carnal desire that flooded her sex with fresh impatience.

  Stopping directly in front of where she stood on shaky knees, Eli drew his face closer to hers. “You do realize no matter the outcome, I’m the winner in this, yes?”

  Recover, woman. Recover. Reclaim the power. Don’t let him—

  “You do realize,” she choked out, meeting his stare even as she struggled to breathe, “before any fucking takes place between the three of us, you will make a public statement that female motocross riders are just as good as male riders and apologize for saying they aren’t? I beat you; you apologize. That’s the whole reason for this…this…”

  A crooked smile tugged at Eli’s lips. “This situation you find yourself in? I do realize that, but do you really think you’re going to beat me?”

  That nervous sensation in Sami’s tummy flared up again. She recognized it for what it was—anticipation-fueled adrenaline. The high of pushing the boundaries. The crave for more than just the humdrum of a safe existence.

  “I do,” she answered. “And you’re going to apologize. And I will be standing right there beside you, for the whole world to see. Do you understand?”

  A darkness flickered in Eli’s eyes. There and gone just as quick. “I do. And I still agree to the bet.”

  Sami’s heart slammed harder in her throat.

  Out of control. This was all so…out of control.

  Was that why she felt more freaking alive than ever?