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Intellectually, I understood how he drove was nothing like the chaotic, not to mention illegal, world of street racing. But somewhere inside of me, the notion of speed equaled death. Still, there was no way to explain it to him, and it wasn’t fair of me to try.
“I’m sorry,” I began, glancing towards the exit of the motor coach. “I shouldn’t have been sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.”
Before Dyson said a word, I turned and tried to leave. I’d only taken a step or two when he circled around in front of me, blocking my way.
“Oh no,” he began, raising his finger and wagging it in my face. “Something has changed since you walked through that door a few minutes ago. What is it?”
“It’s nothing, really. You’re reading too much into this. I didn’t mean to accuse you of being reckless, out of control or anything like that.”
Dyson exhaled a long breath through his nose, sliding his hands into the pockets of his fire suit. He stood there, clearly expecting an answer from me. But I never talked about what happened, not with anyone, really. The pain of that night, even all of these years later, still felt raw.
Dyson continued to stare at me for a few more seconds.
“I’m not letting you out of here until we hash this out, Ava. Now tell me what’s really going on.”
I lowered my head, turning my back towards him and walking a few feet away.
“I don’t know where to start,” I whispered. “I don’t even know how to start.”
“Bullshit.”
I squeezed my eyes tight, resisting the urge to scream at him. A hard lump gathered in the center of my throat. I held on for another second before at last, the inevitable occurred.
“It’s not bullshit! Okay?” I cried out, balling my hands together into fists.
Almost before the words sputtered from my lips, the tears came. I reached up to my face, smearing and wiping. But I couldn’t keep up and soon my entire body convulsed. Just then, Dyson walked past me and disappeared into the bathroom for a second before reemerging with a box of tissue. He walked in my direction and passed it to me.
Clutching the box in my fingers, I ripped out several sheets.
“T-Thank y-you,” I said, wiping at my eyes while sobbing.
That went on for much longer than I wanted it to, so much so I felt compelled to say something. Yet each time I tried, the words wouldn’t come. Eventually, Dyson reached towards me, wrapping his fingers around my shoulders.
“Ava, what the hell is the matter?”
I just shook my head, looking at him through eyes clouded with sorrow.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Dyson leaned away from me for a second. “Did I say something to upset you?”
Not long after, the initial surge of emotion drained away. I still struggled for breath between sobs. “I-I’m so sorry. This has n-nothing to do with you. I-I don’t know w-what came over me.”
Reaching for the tissue box, Dyson pried it from my fingers, but before setting it aside, he said, “Here, take a few more of these.”
I nodded, forcing a sad smile to my lips. I reached for the tissue, taking several and wadding them up in my palm.
“Thank you.”
He nodded and turned away, placing them down before looking at me once again.
“Let’s sit down,” he began, pointing towards the couch. “I’ve got time before I have to go back to the track.”
A few seconds later, I took a seat next to him. Dyson looked at me with an expectant expression on his face. “Okay, so, obviously whatever is going on with you isn’t just about how I’m driving.”
I looked away from him and picked at the tissue in my hand.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Do you trust me, Ava?”
I looked up at him and nodded. “Yes, I trust you.”
“Good. Okay then, I’m ready when you are.”
I brought one of the tissues to my eyes again and dabbed at the swollen, increasingly tender lids. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
“We already talked about that, remember?” Dyson replied with a tender wink. “Just start wherever you want to.”
I cleared my throat and straightened my posture a bit.
“Well, um, it was a few years ago now. My younger sister, Simon’s mother, she, um, had a boyfriend at the time. His name was Shane. He was cocky, a little bit of a know-it-all. I didn’t like him one bit. On top of all that, he had a real wild side.”
Dyson leaned away from me, reclining in the couch like he had before. He draped his arm across the back of it and looked at me.
“Anyway,” I said, reaching up and pulling my hair behind my ears. “He was a street racer. You know, illegal stuff. It’s nothing like what you do. Those people are just idiots. It turned out she had started to ride alongside of him when he raced. I begged her not to do it, told her she was nuts, you know, because she had Simon.”
I paused and looked away from Dyson.
“We used to fight about it. But, she just never listened. And then, one night, she never came home. Simon was still little when she died.”
Dyson reached towards me, rubbing my shoulder. I turned to look at him. The familiar heat returned to my eyes but I shook my head, holding off the tears, at least for now.
“My mother blamed me for it. Can you believe that?” I paused again, dropping my hands in my lap. “I tried to explain I’d told her to stay away from Shane, but my mother, she wasn’t well. She drank. Took drugs. It wasn’t long after my sister died the booze and pills took her from me also.”
I shrugged, not fully believing I’d shared the story with him. Dyson waited until I’d finished for a few seconds before he spoke again.
“What was your sister’s name?”
“Bella,” I whispered. “She really was a sweet person, just young and naïve.”
“Does Simon know what happened to her?”
I swallowed hard and shook my head. “No. I mean, he was so little when she died, how do you explain that? We just told him Mommy went to heaven. I’d always planned on telling him someday. He’s never asked about it.”
Dyson squeezed my shoulder and rubbed it a bit. “I’m really sorry, Ava. I had no idea. I can see why you’d be concerned about me, especially when Darren is out there screaming at me.”
I looked back at him. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known anyway. I know that you’re not trying to get yourself killed. It’s just that I…”
My voice trailed off. Dyson sat forward. Still looking into my eyes, he said, “I’m glad that you care. It means a lot.”
I smiled at him a little but before I could reply, he reached towards my hair and ran his fingers through it, pulling it away from my face with a gentle swipe. Without speaking, he leaned in, and with his other hand, he cradled my chin in the palm of it.
I swallowed hard.
AVA
As my head moved towards him, he cradled my chin in his hands and angled my mouth upwards. I froze, staring into his eyes through the blurry remnants of tears in my own, still present from moments earlier.
Dyson curled his fingers under, drawing my mouth closer. He lingered there for a moment, close enough that I felt puffs of heat from his open lips beating against mine. And then, after a final slide of his tongue across his mouth, Dyson pressed his lips against mine.
Unlike his aggressive kiss at the track, this came slow and tender, made even more so by the suppleness of his lips. His tongue glided inside of my mouth, delighting me with its silky feel and subtle strokes.
Dyson’s hands pivoted from my chin. Cradling my cheeks, he consumed me, kissing me with an ever increasing intensity. I eased into his embrace, leaning my body against his and savoring the affection gone missing from my life for far too long.
I inhaled, taking the scent of him into my nose and mouth, sweet, yet masculine. I hadn’t realized how deeply I’d developed a craving for him. Soft smacks from our lips and moist swishes from our tongues echoed in the intimate space between us.
After a few more moments, Dyson’s hands drifted away from my face and began to glide down the sides of my torso to my hips, where he held me and pulled my body to his entirely.
When he did, I felt the hardness between his thighs. He reached his hands around behind me, grinding his pelvis into mine, leaving no question about his intention. My eyes fluttered open and closed, beyond my ability to control them. I sensed what little resistance I had slip, and then he leaned into me, pushing me back with a steady force. I wanted, more than anything, to reach down and free him, touch him… taste him.
Arching my lower back, I pressed my hips against his rock-hard bulge and groaned. Without thinking, I snaked my hand down between Dyson’s legs, cupping his crotch and filling my palm with the largest cock I’d ever felt. Need raged inside of me, and I was almost to the point of no return when a fleeting thought occurred to me.
I stopped, let go of him and leaned away. Gasping for breath, my entire body on fire, I tried my best to put any distance between us I could. If I didn’t do it, and do it soon, I’d surrender what little resolve I had to him, and there would be nothing I could do about it.
I reached up and pressed my palm flat against Dyson’s chest.
“Dyson, I…”
He looked at me, slowing his breath. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
