Page 69 of Drive Me Wild
TWENTY-FIVE
THEO
Silverstone is always a massive race.It’s McAllister’s home race, as well as Blake’s. This year it also happens to be a race that James Avery—and his family—will be attending. The thought of having to see Christina again after so many years makes my stomach churn like butter. If only time would speed up and allow me to rush through this weekend. Hit fast forward on my worst nightmare sneaking out from the depths of my mind and unfolding in front of me.
The cherry on top of the very stressful sundae is that Josie’s parents will also be at the Grand Prix. I’ve met the Bancrofts before at previous races, but haven’t spent much one-on-one quality time with them. Her dad scared the living shit out of me before we became official, so there’s no doubt he’ll intimidate me ten times more now.
It’s going to be a weekend of kissing one man’s arse while avoiding another’s entirely.Oh, what fun.
The sheets rustle as Josie rests her head on my chest, snuggling into me. “Morning, babe. How’d you sleep?”
I kiss the top of her head. “I slept alright. What about you?”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Josie hums. “You were tossing and turning the entire night.”
I’m well-aware of this, but I hadn’t meant to keep Josie awake. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She rolls over so her chin is resting in the middle of my chest. Toying with the small patch of chest hair, she asks if I’m okay.
“Mm-hmm. No dramas. Big race, is all,” I reply coolly.
“Your pants are still on fire, Walker.”
“I’m not wearing pants,” I cheekily remind her. “Or did you forget last night?”
Her nose digs into my chest as she hides her face. Josie was so desperate to get my pajama pants off me last night that she ripped them straight down the seam and they’re now in the trash. I laughed for thirty minutes straight at how flushed her cheeks were.
“I would never forget my newfound Hulk-like strength,” she mumbles, embarrassed. “Plus, you’re practically rubbing your dick against my leg.”
She’s right about that. My dick wakes up a little before me, excited for morning sex to start my day. I’ve completely given up on any type of coffee—there’s no need for it when Josie’s moans are the only alarm clock I need. “Are you not going to say hello back to him?”
“Stop referring to it as him.” She giggles. “It freaks me out.”
“He turns you into a freak, maybe, but I don’t think he?—”
My teasing is interrupted by Josie giving my right nipple a titty twister. I yelp at the suddenness of the pain. “You’re going to pay for that, Miss Bancroft,” I tell her, my eyes darkening with desire. I flip over so she’s pinned underneath me. “You know that, right?”
She nods quickly, her lips parted ever so slightly. I’m pressed against her and can already feel how wet and ready she is for me.Fuck.
Theo Junior is rewarded for his morning alertness in no time.
“Let’s just skip the race,” I mumble into Josie’s neck as we lay there in a post-sex haze. “Stay in your flat all day, making love and having orgasms.”
“That sounds lovely, babes, but they’d notice if you were gone since, you know, about one hundred and fifty thousand people are here to watch you race.”
One hundred fifty thousand andthreepeople, if you include the Avery family. One hundred fifty thousand andfive, if you include Josie’s parents, too. I debate texting Blake for one of his emergency anxiety pills, but decide against it. I don’t need anything affecting my performance.
“What’s going on?” Josie asks, her lip screwing up into a pout. “Talk to me, baby.”
Hmph. Josie’s smart. She knows I’m more pliable after sex, especially if she uses a pet name. My new nickname should be Whipped Walker because she’s truly mastered the art of seduction.
“Did you purposefully tempt me?” I ask, lifting my head and glancing at her with disapproval clear on my face. “That’s not fair.”
She laughs, her body vibrating against mine. “Did it work?”
I grunt and relax against the calm feeling of her hands running up and down my back. My tension soon begins to dissipate under her touch. As much as I don’t want to talk about Christina, the image of her confronting Josie—saying God knows what about me—is even worse.
A few minutes later, I rip off the Band-Aid. “Christina may be there.”
