started to push away, but then she muttered, “Oh god, yes,” and surrendered to him. Her climax, which she had been denied twice already, built quickly and before he could even think of pausing to draw her pleasure out even longer she hit the peak and tumbled down. The intensity of her release made her back arch and she grabbed fistfuls of sheet, twisting them as she withed beneath him. His every thrust strengthened her climax, keeping her in that place of intensity until she couldn’t breathe and she struggled to escape him.
He bent over her, trapping, and said, “Not yet. I’m not done yet.”
When she finally managed to draw in a ragged breath she whimpered, “Enough, please.”
He wouldn’t stop. She felt too good, she was just too gorgeous, all mussed and desperate, and he was too far gone to even care. Her back arched as another wave rolled over her and still he continued. Finally, when she started slowing down and her breathing was coming in desperate ragged gasps instead of not at all, he reached his climax and collapsed on the bed beside her.
“Evil,” she muttered, still panting.
“You looked like you enjoyed yourself,” he muttered back.
“Did you ever hear of too much of a good thing?”
“Shush. You loved every minute of it.”
She could tell he was already drifting off to sleep. “I can’t stay the night,” she whispered.
“I know. I love you anyway.”
“Do you really?”
“What?”
“Love me?”
“Of course. Foolish woman.”
She smiled at him, watching him drift off into sleep, and then dressed and returned to her own room.
Chapter Eight
Seth, Chloe, and Rueben went down to the garage the next morning, no one saying a word about the extra-large coffee Chloe was toting along with her, or the sun glasses she was wearing to hide the bags under her eyes.
Who knew having a steady relationship would be so exhausting? she thought as she took another sip of the piping hot, caffeinated beverage.
Seth was doing a visual inspection of the car, looking for signs that someone else had been in there tampering with it. Finally he said, “Well, it looks okay, but I won’t know for sure until I get under the hood. I’ll give her a tune up while I’m under there, and then we’ll be ready for those practice laps Brant demanded.”
Rueben was about to answer when his cellphone rang and he wandered off across the shop to answer it. Chloe shook her head, grateful she wasn’t Brant’s business manager. She’d never be able to deal with all the big shot sponsors or the super-strict racing officials, or idiotic airline staff who always seemed to answer the phone when they were in a rush. She looked back at Seth who was still rooting through his tool box.
“I can’t find my…” he stopped suddenly.
“Found it?” Chloe asked.
“No. I found these.” He held up a pair of sunglasses that Chloe instantly recognized. And anyone who knew Trey Williams would recognize the oversized black framed mirror tinted sunglasses too.
Chloe’s mind was racing. Trey was in the dining room, arguing with Brant when I came down. Was he wearing the sunglasses? What about in his room last night? He wasn’t wearing them. Did I see them anywhere? The entryway table? The bathroom? Think, Chloe.
Chloe’s mouth was dry as she said, “Who do those belong to? None of us wear stupid shades like those.”
“They look an awful lot like the ones Trey Williams was wearing the other day.”
“Oh, now you sound like Brant. Do we have any real proof it was Trey Williams? Probably two hundred people in New York City alone own a pair of sunglasses like that. And that’s a very small estimate. They could belong to anyone.”
“Anyone? Chloe, how many people have a reason to want Brant out of this race?”
“How many drivers are registered?” she countered. “If Brant wins he takes every single one of them down a rank. That’s a pretty big deal to a lot of people, not just Trey.
He bent over her, trapping, and said, “Not yet. I’m not done yet.”
When she finally managed to draw in a ragged breath she whimpered, “Enough, please.”
He wouldn’t stop. She felt too good, she was just too gorgeous, all mussed and desperate, and he was too far gone to even care. Her back arched as another wave rolled over her and still he continued. Finally, when she started slowing down and her breathing was coming in desperate ragged gasps instead of not at all, he reached his climax and collapsed on the bed beside her.
“Evil,” she muttered, still panting.
“You looked like you enjoyed yourself,” he muttered back.
“Did you ever hear of too much of a good thing?”
“Shush. You loved every minute of it.”
She could tell he was already drifting off to sleep. “I can’t stay the night,” she whispered.
“I know. I love you anyway.”
“Do you really?”
“What?”
“Love me?”
“Of course. Foolish woman.”
She smiled at him, watching him drift off into sleep, and then dressed and returned to her own room.
Chapter Eight
Seth, Chloe, and Rueben went down to the garage the next morning, no one saying a word about the extra-large coffee Chloe was toting along with her, or the sun glasses she was wearing to hide the bags under her eyes.
Who knew having a steady relationship would be so exhausting? she thought as she took another sip of the piping hot, caffeinated beverage.
Seth was doing a visual inspection of the car, looking for signs that someone else had been in there tampering with it. Finally he said, “Well, it looks okay, but I won’t know for sure until I get under the hood. I’ll give her a tune up while I’m under there, and then we’ll be ready for those practice laps Brant demanded.”
Rueben was about to answer when his cellphone rang and he wandered off across the shop to answer it. Chloe shook her head, grateful she wasn’t Brant’s business manager. She’d never be able to deal with all the big shot sponsors or the super-strict racing officials, or idiotic airline staff who always seemed to answer the phone when they were in a rush. She looked back at Seth who was still rooting through his tool box.
“I can’t find my…” he stopped suddenly.
“Found it?” Chloe asked.
“No. I found these.” He held up a pair of sunglasses that Chloe instantly recognized. And anyone who knew Trey Williams would recognize the oversized black framed mirror tinted sunglasses too.
Chloe’s mind was racing. Trey was in the dining room, arguing with Brant when I came down. Was he wearing the sunglasses? What about in his room last night? He wasn’t wearing them. Did I see them anywhere? The entryway table? The bathroom? Think, Chloe.
Chloe’s mouth was dry as she said, “Who do those belong to? None of us wear stupid shades like those.”
“They look an awful lot like the ones Trey Williams was wearing the other day.”
“Oh, now you sound like Brant. Do we have any real proof it was Trey Williams? Probably two hundred people in New York City alone own a pair of sunglasses like that. And that’s a very small estimate. They could belong to anyone.”
“Anyone? Chloe, how many people have a reason to want Brant out of this race?”
“How many drivers are registered?” she countered. “If Brant wins he takes every single one of them down a rank. That’s a pretty big deal to a lot of people, not just Trey.
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