Revving it Up Page 6

  He stood on the viewing platform next to the main strip of the circuit, an elevated position that granted him a view of the finishing straight, along with the last main jump, the final whoops section and the last two banks. In his ear, Sami cursed and grunted and snarled and moaned.

  Nothing unusual there. She never held back on the vocal side of things whenever she rode, whether it be in a race or just in practice. Two months into his time as her head mechanic he’d reminded her they were connected by the headset in her helmet and the one on his head. Pointed out he heard everything she uttered.

  He’d expected her to be mortified. Instead, she’d laughingly informed him she knew that. “Ours is the most intimate of relationships, Rutledge,” she’d said, slapping her hand on his shoulder, her eyes full of playful glee. “You make the thing between my legs run to perfection; I ride that thing with perfection because of you. A little noise between us only adds to the synergy, don’t you think?”

  Jay had blustered out a flippant response, one that made Sami roar with laughter and smack him in the gut with the back of her hand.

  In their years together he’d come to recognize the sounds she made and the emotions behind each one, and that included the throaty sounds that passed her lips during her mid-race orgasms.

  This race, however, the sounds Sami made, the words and utterances, unsettled him.

  She wasn’t on her game.

  He could tell.

  She may be holding her own with Eli speed and handling wise—and that was saying something because Jesus, the wanker could ride—but she wasn’t feeling the race.

  That was worrying.

  Why? Because she’ll be devastated if she loses? Or because you don’t want her to sleep with Eli if that happens?

  Watching her and Eli both launch themselves into a Superman on the far jump, Jay drew in a choppy breath.

  Or maybe it’s because, despite what you feel for her, you’re still turned-on by the thought of a threesome. Still horny at the idea of making love to her with Eli.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you,” he ground out, wishing to God he could walk away.

  “I don’t know,” Sami shot back, her snarl ripe with an emotion he’d never heard in her voice before. “But I’m trying my fucking hardest.”

  Jay bit back a wince, fixing his stare on Sami as she propelled her bike up a three-footer.

  “You’re playing it safe, Sam,” he said into his headset’s mic. “I think that’s it. The bike will take whatever you throw at it. So will the track.”

  “It’s not that,” Sami answered.

  She banked into a curve that took her out of his sight, Eli doing the same a heartbeat later.

  “Trust the bike, Sam,” Jay answered, turning his stare to where the track reappeared from behind a tree-covered rise. “Trust yourself.”

  “What if I don’t?” The question crackled over the comm a second before she blurred into view again.

  “You should,” Jay answered, chest tight. He forced out a chuckle. “I’d never let you ride something dangerous.”

  Like an omen, the black-and-green blur that was Eli burst out from behind the hill. Bore down on Sami. Fast.

  Jay tracked the man’s rapid pursuit. The guy may be an egotistical dick, but he was an incredible rider. Aggressive.

  “I’m scared, Jay.”

  Jay’s breath caught in his throat at her confession. He watched her launch herself into a nic nac, her body far from the loose line of playful adventure it normally was in such a move.

  “Of what, boss?”

  “What if I’m going to fuck everything up by being me?”

  “Not possible,” he answered with a shake of his head. His lips curled into a slow smile. His heart seemed to swell to double its damn size. “Everything is perfect because you’re you.”

  She didn’t answer.

  For the next two laps, only silence scraped at his ears through the headset.

  Silence in his head, and the sound of Eli and Sami racing for an outcome far more profound than a statement to the media.

  Jay wanted to scream. Instead, he dropped onto the bench seat behind him and scraped his hands through his hair.

  Long seconds stretched by. Out in the blazing sun, two bikes burned up both fuel and the track.

  Jay stared at the dusty wood between his feet. Wished to hell he could reverse time. Wished he could take back his confession of his feelings for her Sami obviously didn’t want to hear. Wished to hell he could—

  “Rutledge?”

  He snapped his head up at Sami’s voice. “Boss?”

  “Will you still like me if we have a threesome with Swanson?”

  A tight band clamped his chest. Squeezed. “Who says I like you?”

  Sami laughed. “Answer the fucking question.”

  Searching the track for her, Jay rose to his feet.

  There. A few yards behind Eli. Quite a few.

  “Win the race, Sam,” he ordered into his headset’s mic. “And I’ll let you know.”

  “Prick,” she shot back. But he could hear the smile in her voice. The mischief. The go-fuck-yourself attitude that made her everything he wanted.

  “My arse, your lips, boss,” he said, grinning.

  From the far side of the track, Sami launched up into the air from the main elevation, positioned her body horizontal to the ground, and flipped him the bird.

  Jay burst out laughing.

  “When we’re done with Eli,” Sami whispered into his ear, “you’ve got some arse kissing to do, Rutledge.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he answered back, watching her nail the landing.

  And then she shot forward, in a wheelie no less, and passed Eli on his right.

  Two more laps.

  That’s all it took for Sami to wipe the floor with Eli Swanson. Although wipe the dirt was more appropriate, given the nature of the track they were racing on.

  The second Jay answered the most important question she’d ever asked—will you still like me—with his smart-arse reply, it was as if she’d got her mojo back.

  If said mojo was an insanely powerful need to beat Eli Swanson so she could screw him and Jay silly, and then confess to Jay afterward she never wanted to screw anyone but him again, and by the way, would he move in with her?

  Sami Charlton didn’t fuck about when it came to…well, fucking about.

  And important life-defining decisions.

  It hadn’t actually been as easy to beat Eli as she’d hoped. The Yank bastard put up a fight. An actual, honest-to-god fight.

  Holy fuck, he could ride.

  The times she’d watched him burn up various tracks—and competitors—around the world hadn’t prepared her for how amazing he was on a bike.

  How crazy.

  He took risks like no other motocross rider she knew. Most of them paid off in their race.

  The thing was, Sami also took risks. But with her mojo back, those risks seemed to melt into a sublime form of superpower. She put her bike into places, banked it into angles, pitched it into jumps it had no physical right being.

  And the whole time she did, she felt not only the familiar tension of a building orgasm deep in her core, but a glorious joy beyond description.

  There were still words to be said between her and Jay, of course. For starters, she wanted to know why the hell he hadn’t stormed into her home sometime during the last four days and demanded they make love again.

  She also needed to know if he meant the same thing she meant when he’d uttered the word like.

  The word like may have passed her lips, but her head and heart had really said love.

  The long and short of it was she was pretty fucking certain she loved her mechanic and he loved her. They’d discuss that. Later.

  But first, she needed two things.

  She needed to rub Eli’s nose in the fact he’d lost. And she needed him to make a public apology for slighting female motocross riders everywhere.

  The
n she’d get to the sexing.

  Then after that, she and Jay—

  “Congratulations, Charlton.”

  Twisting on her bike, her body still thrumming with the rush of beating the world’s best motocross rider—and the rush of what was to come—Sami grinned at Eli.

  He strolled toward her, helmet still on his head, the dust from their bikes skidding to a halt mere seconds ago still dancing on the air around him.

  “I beat you,” she declared.

  She felt his eyes—hidden by green-mirrored goggles—roam her face.

  “So I noticed,” he answered, stopping at her side. “But not by much.”

  By Sami’s count she’d beaten him by little more than half a length of her bike. When Jay got down here from the viewing platform she’d confirm that. “Not by much is still enough.”

  Reaching under her chin, she released the strap of her helmet and then removed the whole thing. The hot air felt like a cool kiss on her sweaty head and hair, sending a shiver through her.

  She saw herself in Eli’s goggles. Saw the wide, cheese-eating grin on her face. The flush in her cheeks.

  And without warning, the reality of her success kicked in.

  The pay-off.

  Not the public declaration from the man currently studying her through mirrored lenses, but…

  Eli chuckled, reaching up to remove his helmet. “It just dawned on you what’s going to happen next, didn’t it.”

  She swallowed. In her belly, a horde of insane butterflies took flight. Her nipples pebbled.

  With another chuckle, this one lower, more…suggestive, Eli pulled his goggles from his face and drew his head closer to hers. “Are you ready for Rutledge and me to reduce you to a creature of pure sexual rapture, Charlton?”

  She studied his eyes, searching for the smug conceit she normally saw in their depths.

  It wasn’t there.

  Which threw her completely off guard. She could deal with Eli Swanson when he was an arrogant bastard. When he was an arrogant bastard, the only thing she liked about him was that he was a sexy arrogant bastard, and to be honest, like really wasn’t the correct term. Lust was more accurate. She could lust after him, be turned-on by him on a purely physical, sexual level and not actually like him.

  But take away his smug condescension and where did that leave her?

  More confused and conflicted than ever?

  “Well?”

  She frowned, not just at her messed-up head, but at his gentle prodding. “Public announcement, remember? Before any reduction takes place, you need to—”

  Before she could finish what was essentially a pathetic attempt at a delaying tactic, Eli unzipped a pocket on his right thigh and withdrew his phone.

  She blinked. Watched him move his thumb over the screen in a series of quick jabs and swipes.

  Blinked again when he lifted the phone and repositioned himself to stand directly beside her, squatting down a little until his shoulder brushed hers.

  A soft chime sounded from the phone—the sound that indicated he was recording video—and then he said, “Hey guys, so here I am with Sami Charlton. You all know who she is. I may have mentioned her a few times both here on Twitter and in a few interviews of late. Just wanted to let you all know she just kicked my ass in a race. And I mean kicked. My. Ass. She is an incredible rider and not only on par with me, but better.”

  Sami swung her head to gape at his profile.

  The smile tugging the corners of his lips was relaxed. Warm. Happy. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm or condescension.

  What the fuck?

  Eli flicked her a glance and then smiled at his phone. “And I think it’s time I admit I’ve been a Class-A jerk and apologize here and now for saying female motocrossers don’t have it in them to be as good as us guys. Cause they do. They really do.”

  His thumb hit the red key on his phone screen, ending the recording.

  Sami continued to gape at him.

  Without a word, or without looking at her, he tapped his thumb over the screen some more.

  An electronic tweeting sound filled the silence and then, with a grin, he held his phone out for her to see.

  There, on the screen, was Eli’s Twitter stream. And there, on the top, was his latest tweet. Sent a second ago to his followers:

  Watch this. #eatinghumblepie #samicharlton #motocross #publicapology

  Sami slid her stare to his face, her eyes hot, her pulse pounding. “You did it.”

  A surprised frown pulled at his eyebrows as he returned his phone to his pocket. “Of course I did it. I may be a prick, but I keep my word.”

  She studied him. “I don’t…”

  She faltered. She had no clue what her brain had planned to say after “don’t”.

  Eli raised an eyebrow. “Have I seriously left you speechless?”

  She blinked. And then let out a high-pitched squeal when Jay appeared at her side.

  Fuck, when had she become so jumpy?

  Err…

  Her mechanic nodded at her, his eyes hidden by dark sunglasses. “Bloody brilliant riding, boss.”

  Eli grinned at Jay. “I’d suggest that’s an understatement, Rutledge.”

  Jay’s smile began to stretch his lip, before an ambiguous tension filled his face and he looked away from Eli.

  Sami’s tummy clenched. There was so much more going on here than simple sexual dynamics. She wasn’t prepared for it. None of it.

  Throwing her leg over her bike, she thrust the handlebars toward her mechanic.

  You know he’s more than that. So much more. So what are you going to do about it? And the fact you still want—

  “I need a shower,” she burst out, refusing to look at either of them.

  She pivoted on her heel and damn near ran for the Goanna Tracks’ amenities block.

  She was five feet from it when a firm hand wrapped around her upper arm. Brought her to a halt.

  “Sam…”

  Her heart smashed into her throat at Jay’s low voice.

  Fighting the urge to shake him off and sprint away—seriously, what the hell was going on with her?—she turned.

  Worry filled his face. Worry etched with a tension she recognized. A tension she herself burned with. Could they be any more conflicted and fucked up? Was it possible?

  “I’m okay,” she said, giving him a smile as she disengaged her arm from his gentle grip. “Really.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  She let out a sound that was meant to be reassuring, although even to her own ears it sounded far from it. “I’d like to say I’m just reeling from winning, but…”

  “But what you’re feeling now, the tightness in your chest, the churning sickness in your stomach, has nothing to do with beating Swanson.”

  She shook her head. Fuck, he knew her so well.

  She loved him for that.

  Loved.

  There really wasn’t any other word for it.

  “You made me win, Jay,” she said.

  He laughed. “No I didn’t.”

  She smiled. “Well, okay, I was the one riding the bike, but you…” She stopped. Licked her lips.

  This is ridiculous.

  “I’m nervous,” she confessed.

  Jay studied her. “About what happens now?”

  “You and Eli… You’ve got history. And something tells me it’s a sexual one.”

  His Adam’s apple jerked up and down his throat. “Yeah.”

  “The pair of you had a thing going on, back when you were his mechanic?”

  He shook his head. “We weren’t partners, not in that sense…”

  A wobbly laugh bubbled from Sami. “I didn’t mean that. Fuck, Jay, you’re the most hetero man I’ve ever met in my life.”

  Jay ducked his head and rolled his eyes. The action, at once boyish and sheepish, sent a warm pulse of desire through her.

  “I mean,” she went on, fidgeting on her feet. “I’ve got the feeling you’ve had threesomes be
fore, you and him. A lot of them?”

  He let out a breath and nodded.

  Sami stuttered out another shaky laugh. “Thought so.”

  “Does that…turn you off?”

  “No.” It was true. It didn’t. Not at all. It did however, make Sami all the more nervous. “It means you two know what you’re doing. I don’t. I have fucking performance anxiety, Jay. Me. Performance anxiety. When I’m racing I know exactly what I’m doing. When I seduced you in the garage I knew exactly what I was doing—”

  “You didn’t seduce me,” Jay protested.

  “I fucking did, Rutledge.” She gave him a wry grin. “Admit it so we can move on. This is my ego freak-out, not yours. Got it?”

  He snorted, even as he rolled his eyes again. “Got it. You seduced me. Go on.”

  “When I seduced you,” she smirked, “I knew what I was doing. I was in control. In case you haven’t noticed, I kinda like to be in control.”

  Jay’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “No? Really?”

  “You’re walking a fine fucking line, boyo,” she threatened. “The point I’m trying to make…very badly, I know, is what if I suck at being in a threesome?”

  Jay burst out laughing.

  Sami pouted at him. “Well, that’s not how I thought you’d react.”

  He stepped closer to her. Cupped her face in his warm, strong hand. “Sami Charlton. Let me make this as clear as I can. Unless you throw up on one of us, there is no way you will suck at a threesome.”

  She pulled a face. “Eww.”

  He smiled. Brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Threesomes, at least the kind Eli and I had, are about one thing and one thing only.”

  Sami swallowed. “What’s that?”

  “The woman’s pleasure.”

  A warm throb awoke in Sami’s sex. Her pulse quickened.

  Desire flared in Jay’s eyes. “Two men. Completely dedicated to making that one woman come. Eli and I will exist solely in that moment for worshipping your body, Sam. For awakening in you a pleasure beyond any you could fathom.”

  Sami whimpered, the sound little more than a hitching moan. “Jay…”

  He inhaled a shaky breath. “Now, my turn.”

  “Turn for what?”

  His expression grew serious. “For this.” He traced her lip again, and let out a ragged breath. “You’re right. Eli and I have been in more than one threesome together. Some of the hottest sex in my life was when I was sharing a woman with him. But all of it pales in significance compared to what you and I shared four nights ago. What happened between us…the power of it…Jesus, woman, I don’t have to tell you how I feel about you. You know it. I can see it in your eyes. And I’m pretty bloody certain you feel the same.”