Racer Page 44
“Yep. We never wanted to sleep near her ‘cause she’d never let anyone shut an eye.”
Racer just looks at me, one sleek eyebrow coming up questioningly, and I scowl at my three brothers, even Adrian who hasn’t said a thing. Yet. “Stop telling Racer what’s wrong with me,” I whisper-hiss at Clayton, kicking Drake under the table too.
“Come on.” Clayton laughs, not bothering to whisper. “Thank me we’re not telling him how you are at the same time every month. Moody and crampy and chewing everyone’s head off.”
Racer grabs his drink, steps away, shooting my brothers a hard glare.
“Nice way to impress him.” I glower, watching him head to the motorhome.
“That’s the thing, Lane. Why are you not giving him the cold shoulder like you do all the other guys,” Clayton says.
“He’s on our team! And he’s …” I stop myself from saying more.
My brothers are watching me. I think they suspect. They look pissy and protective. Are they trying to scare him off?
I start getting riled. “Shut up, Clay and Drake, and you shut up too,” I tell Adrian.
Adrian raises his hands defensively. “I didn’t say shit.”
“You’re trying to scare him off!” I grab my shoe and toss it at the table, spilling their food. “You’re absolute dicks!” I throw the other one, and they laugh as I march to the motorhome.
Racer’s grabbing his phone and his earbuds. He seems pissed.
“Hey,” I say.
He clenches his jaw and tosses the earbuds and phone aside.
“Do me a favor,” he growls, eyebrows slanted. He paces a little, cracks his knuckles, and wheels around. He curls his hand around my wrist and squeezes me, his gaze penetrating me all the way to the depths of my soul. “Don’t ever let them treat you like that.”
“They’re my brothers, that’s what they do.”
“Don’t ever let them talk about you like that.”
I open my mouth, then shut it. “They were trying to scare you away,” I breathe.
He stares at me, his eyes narrowed.
“Besides. Why do you care so much.”
“Because you’re mine.”
“What?”
“That’s right,” he growls, still mad.
“Racer …” I start laughing, and he looks at my mouth, and I stop laughing because I want to kiss him so hard too that my lip gloss is going to be all over that sexy mouth of his.
“They’re saying all that because they can obviously tell that you, that I … that I’m obsessed with everything about you. Your beautiful eyes and your hot bod, your personality and just … who you are.”
He grins a little bit, studying me with those intense eyes. “Go out with me again. Let’s go for a drive. Just you and me. Some music. The breeze. No cares in the world.” His lips quirk mischievously, and so do mine. “Or will you have a cramp or colic?”
“No, no cramps or colic. I just had my period so I won’t be ovulating until, well, another week or so …” I trail off.
“I have a sister, I know all about cycles. She and Mom talk about it over the dinner table.”
I laugh and picture him and his father just bearing it. “Do you two get along?”
“I suppose. I feel protective of her. She’s younger than me.”
“Do you treat her like a baby like my brothers do?”
“Maybe. I don’t mean to.” He looks at me with intimate intensity. “You’re very regular?”
I nod.
“Wh … why do you ask?”
His eyes are very dark.
“You’re not thinking to have your way with me without any … um …”
“I want to come inside you.”
I think my ovaries just shuddered.
“I want to put my stamp in your walls.” He smirks, and I start to perspire.
“We’ll … we’ll see.”
I sit on his lap, and I start to realize that something very hard is growing beneath my bottom. And growing even more. I hear—I actually hear—the sound of me catching my breath, my eyes flying up to his.
He looks at me, his eyes a little hooded. “Can’t help it.” A smirk touches his eyes and I want to kiss the smirk on his lips and those eyes too.
I swallow nervously instead, reach out and place my hand on the squarish curve of his shoulder, holding his eyes.
His smile falters, and his eyes shadow like midnight.
I watch his Adam’s apple work as he swallows too, his gaze dropping and fastening to my lips.
He tugs me close, his nose almost against mine. “I’m starting P2 today. P2’s got to be more than kissing.”
“You’ve just got to have the healthiest self-esteem of anyone I’ve ever known.”
“I can be very stubborn too,” he gruffs out, his eyes gleaming mischievously. He winks.
He lifts my hand and turns it around, gently kissing the center of my palm. I’m so surprised I hear my mouth open on a gasp, but my throat doesn’t seem to release the gasp, it gets caught somewhere in the middle when his tongue flicks out to lick me.
Slowly, I look at his bent head, the head of messy black hair, his chiseled profile, his eyes drifting shut as he savors my palm like I’m the most delicious morsel on the planet.
“Racer …” I begin.
He circles his tongue around the center, then sort of drags it into the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist, where he presses both his lips and his hot wet tongue to my pulse point. I’ve never been seduced by a guy, or ever been wanted like this by a guy.