body.
He groaned, pressing a
quick kiss to my lips. “I missed you,”
Though it had only been
less than a half hour that he was gone doing his interview with Track Pass, I
still missed him.
He pressed his hips
into mine, a smile tugging at his lips as he stepped back. “Yeah, been a whole
twenty minutes.”
“What?” I pouted,
pretending to be hurt. “You didn’t miss me?”
He put his hands on my
waist, under my shirt, pressing his body along the length of mine. I was
crushed between him and the side of the motor coach.
“I missed you every
minute ... ” he breathed, nuzzling
my jaw and licking my lower lip. “Every second,” His tongue lapped behind my
teeth, soft, hot, and wet. “I was away from you,” He fisted his hand in my hair
and deepened the kiss. He missed me all right.
“Hmm,” I articulated
going limp in his arms.
He threw his head back
and laughed. “Come on Joanie, I wanna take you somewhere.”
“Lead the way Chachi .” I rolled my eyes, gathering my will and wiggling
from his arms.
I felt him come up
close behind me, pulling my hair to one side, exposing my neck. “You’ll like
it, I promise,” he murmured sucking on the skin at the juncture of my shoulder
and neck. Goosebumps erupted all over my body.
“You just think you’re
hot shit, don’t you?” I teased as he walked me to the golf cart in front of his
motor coach.
“What can I say?” His
smirk was smug and arrogant. “You just bring it out in me. It’s your fault,
really.”
It took all of my
meager control not to drop his pants right there in the drivers compound and
give him the best mother loving micro polishing he’d ever had. Only the fact
the media would be all over that stopped me from doing it. It would be worth it
for the look on his face. He wouldn’t be so smug then, would he? I gave a
superior sniff, lifting my chin and swept into the golf cart.
He waited until I was
seated before he came around the other side.
I watched unabashedly
as he walked around leering at me as he slid his Oakley sunglasses halfway
down his nose and then winked.
Jameson slid inside,
turning the key in the ignition and grinning at me. He raised one brow over the
frames of the sunglasses. I glared and rolled my eyes at the game he was
playing with me.
He just smiled, turning
his attention to the parking lot.
Out of the corner of my
eye, I noticed the hand that wasn’t on the wheel rise up to run languidly
across his chest.
I narrowed my eyes in
suspicion. I knew what he was doing. That hand then slid across his chest and
slowly down his stomach. He rubbed his belly lazily, back and forth, from one
hip to the other. I had turned to face him, distracted. His face was perfectly
bland as his hand lowered to slowly run along his camshaft, pausing to give a
firm squeeze and then stroked himself once.
“Stop that!”
“Ah honey,” He tipped
his head toward me. “ you know you want it.”
“You suck.”
“Well, you could.” He gestured south with his eyes. “I’m up for it, as you can see.”
“You wish.”
“Yeah, I do,” he
muttered, lifting his hips slightly to adjust himself keeping one hand on the
wheel.
I licked my lips again,
he slowed going over a speed bump.
“You stop that ,”
he growled.
“Ah honey, you know you
want me.” I mimicked licking my lips once more for the hell of it.
“I want you badly.” He
grinned. “Always do.”
My cheeks heated
watching a group in the infield as they partied near their campsite. They all
raised their drinks of choice when they saw who was in the golf cart and yelled
something along the lines of, “Whew Rowdy Riley!”
We grinned at each
other and rode in companionable silence as we drove around the outside of the
pits, through the entry gate and then around the other side of the venue,
toward the grandstands.
Jameson turned off the
ignition, removing the keys and tossed them in one hand. “Come on Joanie—let’s
go to the sock hop.”
I walked a
He groaned, pressing a
quick kiss to my lips. “I missed you,”
Though it had only been
less than a half hour that he was gone doing his interview with Track Pass, I
still missed him.
He pressed his hips
into mine, a smile tugging at his lips as he stepped back. “Yeah, been a whole
twenty minutes.”
“What?” I pouted,
pretending to be hurt. “You didn’t miss me?”
He put his hands on my
waist, under my shirt, pressing his body along the length of mine. I was
crushed between him and the side of the motor coach.
“I missed you every
minute ... ” he breathed, nuzzling
my jaw and licking my lower lip. “Every second,” His tongue lapped behind my
teeth, soft, hot, and wet. “I was away from you,” He fisted his hand in my hair
and deepened the kiss. He missed me all right.
“Hmm,” I articulated
going limp in his arms.
He threw his head back
and laughed. “Come on Joanie, I wanna take you somewhere.”
“Lead the way Chachi .” I rolled my eyes, gathering my will and wiggling
from his arms.
I felt him come up
close behind me, pulling my hair to one side, exposing my neck. “You’ll like
it, I promise,” he murmured sucking on the skin at the juncture of my shoulder
and neck. Goosebumps erupted all over my body.
“You just think you’re
hot shit, don’t you?” I teased as he walked me to the golf cart in front of his
motor coach.
“What can I say?” His
smirk was smug and arrogant. “You just bring it out in me. It’s your fault,
really.”
It took all of my
meager control not to drop his pants right there in the drivers compound and
give him the best mother loving micro polishing he’d ever had. Only the fact
the media would be all over that stopped me from doing it. It would be worth it
for the look on his face. He wouldn’t be so smug then, would he? I gave a
superior sniff, lifting my chin and swept into the golf cart.
He waited until I was
seated before he came around the other side.
I watched unabashedly
as he walked around leering at me as he slid his Oakley sunglasses halfway
down his nose and then winked.
Jameson slid inside,
turning the key in the ignition and grinning at me. He raised one brow over the
frames of the sunglasses. I glared and rolled my eyes at the game he was
playing with me.
He just smiled, turning
his attention to the parking lot.
Out of the corner of my
eye, I noticed the hand that wasn’t on the wheel rise up to run languidly
across his chest.
I narrowed my eyes in
suspicion. I knew what he was doing. That hand then slid across his chest and
slowly down his stomach. He rubbed his belly lazily, back and forth, from one
hip to the other. I had turned to face him, distracted. His face was perfectly
bland as his hand lowered to slowly run along his camshaft, pausing to give a
firm squeeze and then stroked himself once.
“Stop that!”
“Ah honey,” He tipped
his head toward me. “ you know you want it.”
“You suck.”
“Well, you could.” He gestured south with his eyes. “I’m up for it, as you can see.”
“You wish.”
“Yeah, I do,” he
muttered, lifting his hips slightly to adjust himself keeping one hand on the
wheel.
I licked my lips again,
he slowed going over a speed bump.
“You stop that ,”
he growled.
“Ah honey, you know you
want me.” I mimicked licking my lips once more for the hell of it.
“I want you badly.” He
grinned. “Always do.”
My cheeks heated
watching a group in the infield as they partied near their campsite. They all
raised their drinks of choice when they saw who was in the golf cart and yelled
something along the lines of, “Whew Rowdy Riley!”
We grinned at each
other and rode in companionable silence as we drove around the outside of the
pits, through the entry gate and then around the other side of the venue,
toward the grandstands.
Jameson turned off the
ignition, removing the keys and tossed them in one hand. “Come on Joanie—let’s
go to the sock hop.”
I walked a
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