Awakened (The Fighter Series Book 3) Page 5
I hated washing her scent off my fingers, but I wasn’t going to torture myself for the night, which I ended up doing anyway. I should’ve blown the whole situation off and called someone else to have some fun with, but I was so fucking frustrated, I didn’t.
I’ve woken up to the same exasperation. I slam out of the bed and hit the button on the coffee maker before heading to the bathroom to do my morning routine. Have you caught on to it yet? Coffee button first, then piss, wash face, brush teeth, and finger-comb my hair. Simple and easy. Women tend to have a disruptive morning routine and it’s usually never the same. It’s a zig zag pattern throughout the week. I’m typically patterned.
And why am I bitching to you about how women do things? See? Kelsie has me perplexed.
I decide to skip the gym this morning and take my frustrations out on the one thing I adore the most. She’s the light that has guided me through the dark, having my back through thick and thin without asking questions. She’s pulled my ass out of some sticky situations. She already knows what I need without having to tell her. I love the way she feels and how she smells.
There’s nothing more therapeutic than washing the car you pride yourself in. Other than a good fuck from a freak, there’s absolutely nothing better.
I head out to the garage, crack open her door, and slide in, inhaling her rich leather. I drag my hands over the steering wheel, sitting back into the seat that wraps around me, and then crank her. She roars as she comes to life, rumbling and ready for action.
“Not this time, girl,” I say backing her out of the garage and parking just outside.
Nora, her name, is a ’69 Nova that I’ve had since I was seventeen. I worked my ass off for her and then worked my ass off on her. She was busted up when I found her. Long days, late nights—it took years to get her running right. I didn’t have much time during school, and once out, I was working with Levi. But since finishing her, she’s been my pride and joy, holding a special place in my heart.
She gave me something to focus on when my mother and her boyfriend were fighting. They fought all the time and I couldn’t tell you the last time I saw them both sober. They would wake up and, instead of coffee, went straight to the alcohol. He was a rotten bastard, but she deserved him. Not like she was a prize-winning trophy wife. Lazy, selfish, callous bitch.
Once I graduated from high school, I bought my house intending to move here with my girlfriend. But her parents discussed it with us both about holding off until she graduated. They weren’t against us dating but wanted her to focus on her high school diploma. I understood and we agreed as long as she could stay with me during the weekends.
Since moving here, I haven’t seen or heard from my mother or her shithead. Mom was so pissed I was leaving her “just like my father” that she punched me in the face. I laughed at her and promised it would be the last time she ever saw me… “just like my father.”
And if you’re wondering where my dad is, let me know when you come across him. The bastard ran off two weeks after I was born.
My phone rings just as I begin to spray my car. It’s not the person I was hoping for, but she’ll do.
“Well, hello,” I answer.
“Hey, babe. Have you missed me?” Roxy says.
I’ve known her for many years. We’re each other’s fallback and you’ll never hear a complaint about it coming from me. The girl can give head like it isn’t anyone’s business and doesn’t mind one bit to be man-handled.
“Just as much as you have me,” I reply.
“I need a favor.”
“I like where this is going.”
She giggles. “I need new brakes and thought it would make a good excuse to see you. I’ll pay you well.”
“You needed an excuse to see me?” I ask. “A simple come fuck me would have been good enough.”
She hums another giggle and I grin. “I have to work tonight, but what about tomorrow?” she asks.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Can you change brakes while I have my filthy way with you?”
“Damn well willing to try. Might get dirty though,” I say.
“Mmm…dirtier the better,” she hums.
See why I like her?
“Talk filthy to me,” she whines. “I’ve missed it.”
I grin. “The moment I get there, I’m going to fuck you on your kitchen counter and just before I come, you’ll deep throat me, sucking my every last drop. After I finish your car, you’ll finish the payment in the shower, fucking me so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a few days.”
“If your dirty mouth was here, I’d sit on it,” she snorts. “You know you’re still the only man I allow to talk to me like that?”
“That’s because you’re my dirty whore, Roxy.”
“You’re hard as hell thinking of me aren’t you?”
I laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She and I go way back. I was nineteen and a disaster. She was eighteen and eager. She came into my life at the perfect time when my mind was fucked up, and she knew exactly how to fix it. She loved sex just as much as I did and didn’t want any strings attached. Yep. Definitely jumped all over that. Roxy is my “fix.”
I dunk the sponge in the soapy bucket and my phone rings again. I growl, aggravated as hell.
“Yeah?” I answer annoyed.
“Kenny wants a piece of you,” Dustin says.
Dustin is one of the running managers in a small racing group this side of town. I’ve been running for him for five years.
“He’s been dying to get a piece for months. He’s finally up and running?” I ask.
I’ve been dying to shut Kenny up for a long while. Every time we try lining it up, I’m gone or he’s unable to. For the past few months, his Mustang has been out with a blown engine. You’d think it wouldn’t take long to replace it, but no telling what he tried while it was out.
“Five G’s catch your attention?”
“I’ll consider that a yes. When and where?”
“We’re having a meet tonight if you’re up for it,” he says.
I look to my navy blue Nora, wet and shining underneath the droplets of water. “I’ll be there.”
“Aight, man. Check ya later.”
I’m beaming. It’s been several weeks since I’ve been able to taste my adrenaline. When I’m on the road with Levi, I don’t get my race fix. I don’t get to grip the steering wheel and scream down the lane in a blaze of glory. I don’t get to hear the tranny switch gears, the rubber grip the pavement, and the engine soar to life. So while I’m home, if there’s a chance, I’m taking it.
I park my Tahoe, and it doesn’t take long for everyone to take notice and start crowding around to find out who I’m there for. This is where I shine. This is my “ring.” I’ve worked hard making a good name for myself. Of course, I pride myself here.
I’m also the only guy who doesn’t come with a small crew of friends. The fewer people involved, the fewer chances of being stabbed in the back. Levi has come with me a few times, but he’s not mechanically inclined. He’s like bringing a fucking sling shot to war. Fighting in a ring is right where he belongs.
I’m unhooking my car from the trailer when I spot Dustin walking toward me. It’s hard to miss the dorky bastard. He’s a hefty guy, always sporting his hat backward allowing strands of bright red shaggy hair to peek out from underneath it. He doesn’t have any tattoos and definitely stays the hell out of the sun. He looks like he’d be more comfortable in an IT office than out here in the streets.
“What’s up, man?” He shakes my hand. “You ready?”
“Always.”
“You’re six races in, so you have some time. Need anything?”
I cock a brow, leery of his actions. “Do I ever?”
He puffs a short chuckle. “Get your shit ready and I’ll meet you on the line.”
I watch him stride off and then I turn to take in everyone. The place is busy, bustling with moving bodies.
Some are gathered around their friends, others are chasing Dustin to place their bets. The air smells of burnt tires, oil, and racing fuel. I take a deep breath of it. This…this is my drug.
After readying my car by checking a few things and making a couple of quick adjustments, I roll up to the burnout box and hop out to meet with Dustin and Kenny to place my bet.
“Look who finally decided it’s time for his ass to get kicked,” Kenny barks as I step to them.
“Yeah,” I say, not giving into the game of trash talking. He’s an arrogant, immature asshole. Always has been.
“Y’all ready to do this?” Dustin asks.
“Damn right I am.” Kenny glares at me and I want to smack his smirk right the fuck off his face.
“Ante up on the cash.” Dustin holds out his hand.
He is and has always been the stakeholder, even before I started running with him. Rumor has it he earned the position because he can’t run fast. Makes perfect sense.
Five thousand dollars is a lot of money and one of the highest bids I’ve placed in a while, but I’m quite certain I’ve got this race in the bag already. I jam it in his hand and head back to my car without saying another word.
“Race true, boys!” Dustin yells out his infamous slogan before each race.
I hop back into Nora, and she comes to life ready to shred Kenny’s white Mustang. I warm up my tires by doing a long burnout and then get lined up. Adrenaline is pumping through me. My body’s on fire from it. I’m fixated on the light with one hand on the wheel, the other on the shifter. Everything always falls silent. It’s a motionless quiet where if noise was color, all would be a solid black, an empty place of nothingness. It’s just a fraction of a second from when the light falls from its tree. Red, yellow, green…Go!
I jam my foot into the gas and my engine roars, shoving me further into the seat as the tires grip the pavement and lurching us from our spot. I slam the shifter from gear to gear while fighting to keep her straight and between the lines of our lane. There’s no sound here even though I know Nora is screaming to the finish line. It’s all a blur happening within seconds. And when I reach the man at the end, I take a much needed breath.
Just as predicted—I’ve won.
I slap the roof and yell out in excitement driving back to meet with Dustin.
Kenny is just getting out of his car, slamming the door behind him when I pull up. Even with broken pride, he puffs out his chest. He’s pissed.
“Thought you wanted to race?” I boast at Kenny still drenched with adrenaline.
He fakes a genuine smile. “Good race, man.”
“Did you fall asleep at the line?”
If looks could truly kill, I’d be sitting on the throne in hell. He glowers at me and strides away, flipping me off over his shoulder.
I laugh.
Dustin hands the money to me. “You up for another?”
I shake my head. “Nah. Not tonight.
It’s not a secret of Nora’s strength or my driving ability. I don’t race many times in one night. I’m only pushing my luck. Something could go wrong with the car and cost me money, or worse. One is my limit unless it’s been lined up previously.
Winning plays well with my ego.
Chapter 7
“I think you should call him,” Sarah says over the phone.
I’ve lost so much sleep and have been so unfocused the past two days thinking about Adam and what transpired between us Friday night. There hasn’t been any concentration in my world.
I sigh. “I don’t know. I think I’m getting in over my head with this. Plus, if Nick finds out, he wins.”
“Kelsie, he’s winning now. You’re the one stuck all alone with no one. Do you think he’s by himself?”
“God! I’d love to catch him. I could get out of this hellhole and live my life. I just wish he’d sign the damn divorce papers!” I cry out, throwing myself back on the bed.
“Adam said he wanted to have fun and Nick didn’t have to know. What’s so wrong with that?”
I ponder her question.
“Nothing,” she answers for me. “You want this just as much as he does. Don’t make him wait. All this is what you missed while you were stuck with Nick. Live it up.”
“I know.”
“Then call him, Kelsie. Go and have fun. Just protect yourself. All of yourself. Do you remember what aisle the condoms are located on?” She laughs.
I roll my eyes. “What if Nick finds out?”
“You’re seriously going to keep falling back on him? Isn’t he in the past? Handle that if it comes. Quit letting that bastard control you. You deserve great stuff and personally, Adam is pretty great stuff to look at.”
“He’s a good kisser too,” I brag.
“Holding my fingers in my ears so I can’t hear you and let my jealousy flare,” she says playfully. “Now, go and call him. It’s Sunday. Surely, he isn’t doing anything.”
After I hang up, I stare at my ceiling, trying to gather my thoughts. What do I say? Sorry I kicked you out after you gave me an amazing orgasm? I laugh and push myself up. Sitting on the side of the bed, I take a deep breath and dial his number.
“Hi,” I say softly when he answers.
“Thinking of me, huh? Did you have Chinese for breakfast?” he asks chuckling.
“That would be the breakfast of champions. But yes and I’m sorry.”
“For thinking of me?”
“For Friday night. Can I explain?”
The line falls silent and confusion sets in. He doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to see me. I screwed up. And although I understand why and swear I deserve it, it hurts.
“I guess you’re busy,” I say. “I just really wanted to apologize. I’ll let you go.”
“Alright.”
“Oh…kay,” I drag out slowly, a little heartbroken. I really wanted to talk to him.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he says and then hangs up.
I growl and scream out in frustration. A man of no words is a freaking understatement. He’s so freaking difficult to read and baffling as hell. I stomp to the shower, angry as hell, and rip open the curtain, wrenching the hot water on, yanking off my clothes, and stepping under the water.
The hot water steals my breath and sends me retreating to the back of the shower to get away from the scalding streams. Desperately, I reach around the hot spray, frantic to turn the water cooler. I flinch and jerk, repositioning myself as it chars my arm.
Finally, relief!
I place my face under the water. This is my punishment. In some odd way the universe is getting back at me for treating him the way I did. I shouldn’t have called him. Instead of just letting things rest, I poked holes in the bee’s nest. I get it but next time…oh, who the hell am I kidding? Next time could be another year from now and I’m sure there won’t be anyone as sexy as him to cross my path.
I shut the water off and dry myself. Dressed and teeth brushed again, I slap on some foundation and head out of the bathroom. Maybe now I can clear my mind and get some of these files out of my way. I grab the stack along with my laptop and set them down on the couch on my way to the kitchen for something to drink before settling in my spot.
And of course, the moment my ass hits the cushion, my phone rings in my bedroom…down the hall. I exhale, annoyed at myself for gathering everything else except for it, and push to my feet. I’m in no rush. I know it’s Sarah, interested in what was said. She can be impatient, more than likely sitting next to her phone, tapping her fingers on it while waiting for my call. Boy, is she going to be disappointed.
My heart stops.
“Hello?” I answer.
“What time do you want to explain?” Adam asks.
“Do what?”
“You said you wanted to explain. What time do you want this explaining to happen?”
My face scrunches. “At the time, I meant via the phone.”
“I’d rather you explain your situation to me in private.
I’d like to know why one minute you’re all for it, fantastically fucking my finger and the next I’m out the door.”
The bluntness throws me off guard and I stumble. “I, well…I.” I pinch my eyebrow. “My mind tumbles out of control sometimes and I forget the dreadful situation I’m in. I—”
“I said I’d like to talk about it in private,” he interrupts, sternly. “When do you have time?”
I glance to the folders, looking for a good excuse to not have to face him. “I don’t know.”
“Well, make time now and answer your door.”
I lurch around toward the door and stare at it in disbelief. “Are you serious?” I squeak.
“Try me.”
I swallow hard. Exuberance zips through my limbs, threatening to shred them off as I slowly pull open the door. I gasp at the sight of him, oddly surprised even though I’d been warned he was standing just on the other side. “You’re really here.” I sigh in disbelief.
His lips tighten and stretch into an alluring smile. I’m stuck. This has to be a hallucination.
“You going to invite me in or am I still not allowed?” he asks.
I blink, face planting back to Earth. “Yes. I mean no. I mean—” I give up on stuttering and just move out of his way. “Come in.”
He laughs as he steps in and immediately takes notice of my makeshift office. “You weren’t kidding when you said you work all the time.”
“Sadly, no. In my profession, it’s inevitable that work will come home with you. With as many branches and departments as we have, overtime is the norm.”
He steps to me. His chest directly in my line of sight. Slowly, dragging my eyes up his shirt, I look at him.
“Now, explain,” he says firmly.
The air around me thickens. Static jolts tighten my chest. I knew what I wanted to talk about earlier, but now, I’m at a loss for words.