Page 95 of First in Line

“Yeah. Told him I was a big fan of his work. And he returned the compliment right back to me.”

“That’s insane.”

“I know. I was shaken for hours.”

I can tell he’s still not over it. No matter how well he has adapted to his new life, his humble origins are still there, still shaping him.

Time passes, just like the scenery outside. Jax explains he’s scored me a Paddock Club ticket for the weekend. Although he makes no mention of the price, I know enough to realize it must cost around twenty thousand dollars.

I’m not comfortable with that, but it’s not like I have much of a choice.

Three hours into the drive, I’m actually looking forward to sharing a room with him. His hand keeps grazing my thigh, and his fingers sometimes venture a little too close to the apex of my legs, driving me mad with small, pleasurable shivers. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing, and I should probably dislike the slight manipulation. But as long as he plans on doing something about it once we’ve arrived, I won’t complain.

I’ve been thinking so much about that night he spent at my place. How good it felt to have him inside me again, to share such intimate and raw moments together. That’s the reason I ended up giving in, why I caved and hopped onto a plane to come here.

“How much longer?” I ask in a manner I hope is casual, secretly desperate to arrive and sneak into his room together.

“About half an hour. We’ll enter a long tunnel soon, and when we come out, we’ll be in France.”

“Really? How long?”

“About four miles, I think? It usually takes four minutes from start to finish.”

“Oh, okay.”

His hand rides a little high on my thigh again, his pinky so close to the seam that he has to sense how damp and hot that part of me is getting. When I glance at him, I notice the little smirk he can barely hold back.

Oh, that man needs to be taught a lesson.

When I see the tunnel entrance from afar, an idea sparks in my mind. I can play this game, too. And I’m pretty sure I can win.

As soon as we’re plunged into darkness, I unbuckle my seatbelt and twist toward him. It’s only when my hand reaches his crotch that he asks, “What are you doing?”

“Since Europe is one big, united family, I feel like the rules should apply for borders the same as they do for state lines, don’t you?”

Quickly, he understands I’m talking about that silly car game I came up with so long ago, and his smile turns carnivorous.

He’s the one who unbuckles his own seatbelt, and I busy myself with unfastening his slacks.

“No underwear, Mr. Reyes?” I wonder when my hand finds him bare.

“With this quality of fabric, there really isn’t a need for it. And I have to say, I stand by my decision right now.”

He’s already hardening in my hand, his length hot and firm in my grasp. When I bend over to the side, he adjusts himself to give me more access.

That night he spent at my place, I didn’t get to do this. He was in charge the whole time, and I was too enraptured to demand any sort of control. Right now, though… I’m the one in charge.

After a brief moment to admire the rigid length in my hand and the veins beneath the smooth skin, I give the round head a kiss, flicking my tongue over the wet slit of it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groans, jolting slightly.

“Focus on the road.” Another lick, another curse, and I can’t hold back my delighted smile.

Especially when a clear drop seeps out of him, rolling down the dent below. I lick it, refusing to let it go to waste. He tastes the same as he used to, and it transports me back to my days with him.

When I wrap my lips around him, his hand comes to my nape, squeezing the sides of my neck just a little. The slight pressure, the domineeringness of the gesture, makes something pulse between my legs.

Following his silent hint, I lower farther, taking him all the way in my mouth. It took me ages to learn how to take him down my throat without gagging. All that training went down the drain, and because I don’t want to risk it, I don’t take him deeper than that.