1
SARA
It was hard to think straight with Garret's hand down my pants, but I could hear the heat before mine finishing up and knew I had to get to the starting line in the next ten minutes.
"Ten more minutes, baby. Please just let me give you a good luck orgasm." His mouth greedily devoured mine even when I nipped hard enough to taste the metallic tang of his blood on my tongue. This man did things to me that I'd never felt with anyone before, and it wasn't just his bad-boy persona.
"You know I have a race," I protested, but I did nothing to pull away from him. My head rolled back, exposing my neck to him, and his beard scraped along it, dusting my skin where his teeth left fire in their wake. "Oh, God…" The way he touched me would push me over the edge if he kept it up.
"Yeah, and you want to win, right?" Garret's other hand grabbed my butt and pulled me hard into his pelvis, which left little doubt how badly he wanted me. I rubbed him through the thick denim and moaned my displeasure as I heard the fifteen-minute warning.
"G," I whispered, biting his shoulder as his fingers worked me harder. "I have to go. Dad will be wondering where I am."
"But you drive me wild, and who else will fix this problem?" he asked as he ground his hips against my thigh again. "You know you're the only woman I got."
I snickered and rubbed him again, but it didn't matter how sweet he was being, or how possessive either, for that matter. The race was too important to miss over something like this.
I'd worked my whole career for this and no man, not even the one I was desperately in love with, should mess that up.
I pulled back, but he didn't. His fingers curled and rubbed, making my knees go weak, until I grabbed his wrist with both hands and nudged his head away from my neck. "Babe, come on… This was supposed to be a good luck kiss. We don't have time."
Garret sighed and kissed my neck softly, then pulled his hand out of my pants.
But he made a show of licking every finger clean, and then sucking them for good measure, all while making sure I was watching.
"Well, then… How am I gonna go watch this race with such a huge tent?" Those dark eyebrows pulled together in the middle and he smirked at me as I rolled my eyes and swatted his massive bicep.
"You'll figure it out." My pants were clinging to me, underwear soaked from how much moisture he inspired, and I had a bike to drag to the starting line. "Tomorrow, okay? On my break. Wecan sneak out to our secret spot." I rose up on my tiptoes and nuzzled his nose, then pressed my lips to his.
Garret's hands gripped my hips in a reminder of his desire and he kissed me back softly. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Miss Fancy Racer. Now go win." He let me go and jerked his chin up at me as I moved toward the door and grabbed my helmet. When I got there, I stopped and looked back over my shoulder into the old tack shed and noticed him adjusting himself inside his jeans.
"Hey," I said softly, and he looked up. "Thank you for coming today."
"Go on and race already." When he started my way, I pushed through the door and into the bright sunlight.
The crowd was loud and the announcer was louder. The ten-minute call signaled our heat checking in, and I was rushing to get there on time. In the past three years of racing, I'd never done so well as I had this season, and with the finals on the line, I knew I should've been more focused on the race and less focused on the biker with an obsession for my body.
But I raced with my helmet tucked under my arm toward the starting line, weaving through the crowds with a smile on my face. A few minutes for a good-luck kiss always cleared my head and made me race better, even when my father, and racing coach, had a scowl on his face over my absence. Like today, when he stood with my bike next to the check-in official.
"Where have you been!" he hissed, and a grumpy scowl darkened his expression. He stepped away from my dirtbike as I rose up and pecked his cheek.
"Thanks, Daddy, I had to pee…" I grabbed the handlebars and started wheeling it closer to the line as Dad fell into step.
"You really have to start managing your time better, Sara. This one is really important. If you make the top four today, you'll go to the finals. No woman has ever made it this far. You can't just?—"
"Daddy, please." I turned and shook my head at him, resting the bike on my hip as I shoved the helmet over my crazy brown locks. "I know what I'm doing. Okay? Don’t give yourself a coronary."
Dad grumbled a few choice phrases as I turned to the official and got my racing number slapped on my back. He always did this at every race. It wasn't like today was special. And it wasn't just me, either. When Daniel and Andrew were racing this circuit, he'd been the same.
"Three minutes," the official barked, and I nodded at him, then turned back to my dad.
"Good luck, sweetheart. Remember to watch that third turn. The track's a little loose and there's rocks on the inside. And that jump will be hard. Keep your feet on the pegs and your knees loose, but don't let your ass ride that seat."
"Dad!" I groaned. "You're acting like I haven't done this a million times."
"I just want you to win," he said, and I saw the hopeful expectation on his face.
"Then let me race."
