Pole Position Page 2

  Reporter: You must admit though that for Judd Racing to beat your old team in your first season would be a fantastic coup.

  Again my mouth responds as though I have not a care in the world. “Sure it would, as it would to beat any team in our first season. We’re new at this, and we’re not expecting miracles, but we want to compete and,” I look at Chase, “I’m afraid that will involve trying to win against Chase and our other old teammates as much as any other teams on the grid. That’s not personal; it’s racing.”

  I stop talking, letting them take in what I’ve said, as I try to smile the way Elliott does for the cameras. I’m not sure I pull it off, but it doesn’t matter. They’ve moved on to another question for another team. I stop listening while feigning interest, but my head is swimming, unable to process anything that is going on.

  I look to the side, hoping to catch a comforting smile from Jessie, but instead I see him. I see my man, waiting there, with pride glowing from his flushed cheeks. His eyes are sparkling, but not in that practiced press-ready way I’ve been trying to emulate. Elliott has crossed his arms in front of his chest and is resting his chin against one hand, brushing his forefinger against his lips.

  When he sees me notice him, his smile is lazy, confident that he doesn’t need to rush to my side to help me anymore. And I’m proud.

  Elliott

  Axel and I stroll in just as Kyle starts to speak. I couldn’t have timed it any better. Late enough that my presence doesn’t stress him out, but early enough to see him in full flight. His deep voice is warm against the hum of the media kerfuffle, a rich chocolate that holds its own, while being mellow enough to have a magnetism that electrifies the room.

  Oh, he is good.

  My husband has a core of strength and while he often doubts himself, he will not be beaten down by trouble makers. He can’t help but respond naturally, and he carries his interview off with such professionalism because of it. The journalists cannot back him into a corner because it’s clear; he will not put up with their bullying.

  But, even though I know him well, I’m still wowed by the presence he projected. And even now, as the questions dry up and he leaves the stage, I can’t take my eyes off him as he strides over as though he just went through nothing more serious than a haircut.

  “You were amazing.” Jessie beats me to it because my throat has dried up.

  Axel claps him on the back, “Well done!”

  “You nailed that, Kyle,” I manage, stepping forward and without thinking, wrapping my fingers into the material by his collar and pulling him into a sensual kiss. He rests his hands on my shoulders as I sneak mine around to tug his butt against me, our lips connecting.

  And that’s when I can tell he’s shaking. His legs tremble as his breath catches, and then he exhales into my open mouth. We pull our mouths apart, our hips still locked together, our hardness coupled. Kyle laughs in a kind of high-pitched whistle as all the tension that had been wracking his body floats away with that laugh, allowing him to connect his mind with mine.

  “You looked damned near perfect on that stage,” I growl in his ear so no one else can hear. I stand back a little, allowing my gaze to wander down his torso. I stroke a finger down from his throat to his belt. “This is all mine. I’ve never been prouder.”

  He bites his bottom lip, our eyes still locked as my name is called to the stage for my round of undoubtedly similar questions.

  “Go on, do your thing.” His hands slip from my shoulders to my waistband and pries me away. “They’re waiting for you.”

  I’d love to say it doesn’t matter and that they can wait. But it does; everything matters. This is our future and I need to be the perfect star. I can’t start out as a dick who keeps everyone waiting. That’s not what this is about. My ego may be big, but my logical brain is bigger.

  I tap his chest, flashing him a private wink. “Later.”

  Kyle

  I’ve spent this whole day in a state of high anxiety. My palms have been sweaty, my heart has pounded or fluttered and then stopped dead all in equal measures, and my head has swum so much it could win the Olympics. And that’s before we even start with what’s been going on with my stomach.

  My first day of being on the road as the Team Principal is almost over. I just need to get through this damn dinner. We're in the back of a car on our way, and my heart is somersaulting. Again. And for once, it's not because Elliott is seated with his thigh pressed against mine. My thoughts are off in anticipation of the night ahead of me. It’s not going to be a simple affair. All and sundry will be in attendance, and I will be expected to chat with each one of them while remaining sober enough to communicate sensibly and being stressed enough to drink more than usual.

  “You OK?” Elliott doesn’t need to be as in tune with me as he is to spot that I’m out of my comfort zone.

  “Hmm.” We both know I’m not, but what good will talking about it do? I just need to ride the wave and get through this.

  “Once you’ve gotten through the weekend, everything else will be easier. Your first is always the worst.”

  “Is that what you told me at the beginning when we started out?” I nudge him, trying to break our somber mood.

  He laughs, understanding my sense of humor so easily. “Sure, I warned you, but then I snared you and I’ll never let you go.” His hand squeezes mine playfully, but his touch is electric and it fires up my senses. It’s been ages, what with everything going on and the demands on our time. We’ve either not had the time or been too exhausted to engage in anything not absolutely necessary for getting this business off the ground. And the ache in my pants knows it.

  I pull his hand enough that his body follows, and he leans into me, allowing me to dive in and claim his lips with mine. They are closed at first, caught off guard, but with just a brush of skin on skin passion captures me, and our breaths intermingle, our mouths part and the tips of our tongues meet. The tender touch is so delicate, but its intensity sends heat rushing to my toes.

  As our fervor deepens, so does the intimacy of our contact and before I know it, I’m drowning in that kiss. All thoughts of the day’s stresses and of those to come vanish, and I’m consumed in the beauty of my husband, of touching and being touched.

  Our fingers wrap around each other’s as our tongues intertwine in a hot cavern of nothingness, a suspension of time as we live and enjoy this moment.

  “You’re here,” our driver informs us, as though there’s nothing more intimate going on in the rear seat of his car than an idle business conversation. But, the jolt back to reality, as paparazzi and serious journalists alike jostle to snap the first shot of us arriving, is bleak.

  We break away. “No doubt that’ll be on the front cover of some newspaper in the morning.” Elliott swallows, rearranging his clothing before stepping into the limelight and turning on that smile.

  I wait a second. A period that for others will flash by, but for me, is my time of readjusting to being on public display again. And then, when I’ve taken a breath and I’m as ready as I can be, I step out of the car and rest my arm over Elliott’s as we rush inside, smiling and waving, but not stopping until we’re safely inside the privacy of the venue.

  Elliott

  I warned Kyle that I’d stay with him for as long as I can, but we’d more than likely be split up by people pulling us in separate directions. He’s fine with that. He’s a big boy and while this is overwhelming, he would much prefer to be out of the spotlight. He understands what needs to be done. And he’s happy with it, even though performing like a seal just isn’t how he’d naturally spend his days. And nights.

  Whenever we’re together, it’s more like we’ve been invited to a party than attending a press event. We stand close, feeling the warmth of the other through our suit jackets. His arm sneaks up the back so he can rest his fingers inside my waistband. We feel more secure in the knowledge that we are together as we make polite conversation with any number of different journalists.
Although we can’t speak freely, we are having a pleasant time. The party atmosphere, combined with my elation at being back on the circuit and ready to race, has my groin tingling every time I dare to connect my gaze with this gorgeous, solid mass of muscle who calls himself mine.

  His eyes twinkle and I know that for the first time in months, we’ll be at each other tonight no matter how tired we are. Our minds have been allowed the space to breathe, and we’re right back where we always land, together and wanting.

  I lean into him, smell the soothing spice of his aftershave, see the nick on his neck where he caught himself earlier and remember how he looked, bare chested and wrapped in his towel. I didn’t have the time to appreciate him earlier; I was too busy rushing to sort out my own appearance. But now, as I relax surrounded by a million faceless people, I only see Kyle.

  A familiar voice cuts through my warm musings. “Elliott, Kyle. Fancy seeing you here.”

  You’d think we’d not been on the circuit over the past few years the way everyone is behaving. “Chase, hello.” Conscious of the multitude of cameras in circulation, I smile and hold out my hand. He takes it and moves to shake Kyle’s, who also has a smile plastered to his face.

  Chase speaks a little too loudly. He wants other guests to hear us. I’m fine with that. I can watch my tongue. “How have you been?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Excellent. It’s so fabulous to see you racing again.”

  “Yes, it will be good to get back behind the wheel. I’m looking forward to it. I’ve missed all of this, you know, since the accident.” Kyle stiffens next to me, but when I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, he’s still smiling.

  “Yes, well, that is behind us now.” Chase continues to grin in case any camera should snap us, and I have a desperate need to wipe it from his face. Something I would never do, regardless of the cameras, but the urge is still there. And it’s strong.

  “Indeed, onwards and upwards.”

  Here we go. I see his jaw twitch, and a terrible smugness seeps through me because in that flash I know that I’ve gotten to him. And, sad as it is, it makes me feel good. His distress makes me happy.

  Chase lowers his voice and bends down, just to make sure that I can hear him over the din in the room. “Listen, you little asshole, you may have won that court case, but don’t think for an instant that I’ll let you beat me twice.”

  Yup, got him. “You may put this season in the bag. There’s no telling until we get on the track, as this is our first one. But, let’s not be in any doubt, I am no loser and I will win again, Chase.” I nod, my eyes boring into his while my mouth is still curled upwards in the PR smile that will not shift for the rest of the evening. “I’m looking forward to wiping the floor with you on the race track now, better than I did in that courtroom.” The volume of my voice has dropped to match his, but the evil inflection that tinges the words only hardens their meaning.

  Chase stands tall. “Well, it was nice seeing you again, must mingle.” With that, he turns on his heel and stalks away.

  “What was that about?” Kyle asks. “I couldn’t hear.”

  I shake my head. “I’ll tell you later. For now, let’s just forget about that idiot.”

  Kyle

  Oh my goodness, the relief when we get back to our trusty RV that we take wherever we can when we’re on tour. The familiarity of it means we can just be. I am exhausted, but I need to feel Elliott next to me. The urgency of touching his flesh to mine far overpowers the need for sleep. As soon as we’re through our door and in our haven, I’m ripping at his suit, tugging the tails of his shirt free from his dress pants and then exhaling as my palms touch the warmth of his skin. The tension that has been eating away at my body all night in anticipation of this moment lifts, as though a tight band has been released. All the thoughts that dominate my waking hours melt away with his tongue-thrusting kiss.

  I start to shrug off my suit jacket.

  “Leave that on. I want to fuck my Team Principal.”

  I hadn’t realized how much I enjoy the power, but as those words hit home with me, I realize the game we can play. It occurs to me for the first time that I am actually Elliott Judd’s boss, and this thought floats into my mind and down to my cock, which aches to be sucked.

  “So we’re playing that game then. We should be in my office.”

  “I don’t care where I am. I want to take you.” He sinks to his knees and skillfully unzips my pants so they pool around my ankles. My undershorts follow only moments later and I’m left exposed and throbbing in his face.

  “You’re so fucking hard, Kyle.”

  I moan, feeling his breath ghost over my end, slick with excitement, which Elliott laps up with the full length of his tongue. It grazes against my nerves, sending my hips thrusting in a steady rhythm, begging for more of the deep, sweeping strokes of his tongue.

  “Not yet.”

  “Hey, I’m the boss here. You will do as I say, and I want to feel that hot, cavernous mouth of yours devour me.”

  “Oh, well, if it’s an order from the boss...” He smiles, his teeth show, and I brace myself as they graze along my shaft, before he sheaths them with his lips and puts pressure on the base of my cock, as the back of his throat laughs against my tip.

  “You are not being a well-behaved employee. I’m going to have to punish you if you don’t start to perform better, Elliott Beaumont-Judd.”

  His slick mouth moves in long firm strokes, and as he reaches the end of my cock, he laps up my delight before twisting his head in a sharp swivel and then greedily engulfing me once again. I watch as his cheeks hollow and he sucks me deep into his throat.

  I step out of my shoes and slip one leg free from my trousers, allowing me to widen the spread of my legs. Before I’ve had a chance to instruct him on his boss’s desires, his head dips, grazing his five o’clock shadow against my tight balls as he runs a finger between my legs and circles until my eyes close and my head tips back.

  Elliott

  I’m really getting off on this power play. Who’d have thought that I would love the fact that my husband not only earns more than me, but is in control of me at work and now in the bedroom?

  He’s kicked off his shoes, and I’m being the good little slave, lapping him up and releasing the tensions of his day well and good.

  He suddenly steps away.

  “What’s wrong?” I rasp.

  He doesn’t answer me, but instead, twitches one eyebrow as he kicks off the rest of his lower clothing and lies back on the bed, the bulge of his cock almost blue now with pent-up frustration. Supporting himself on both elbows, a sly smile creasing his swollen lips up at the corners, he beckons me over with one finger, and my balls ache to release over the slice of flesh exposed between his open dress shirt.

  I clamber on top, but he grabs my hips and still without speaking, positions me to sit on his face so my dick is probing his mouth in a sixty-nine position. I lower my mouth back down, ready to go down on him again. He widens his legs, so I wrap my arms to the underside of his butt and pull his cheeks apart, swirling my thumb around his private hole. His hips kick up and his shaft rams down my throat, making my eyes water as I choke.

  He groans, opening his throat to take me all the way. I force my hips against his face so we’re pumping into each other and the tension is building, sucking at my balls, drawing them up inside me until I need to stop. I force my hips up and away from the glorious warmth of Kyle’s shining lips, from the heat of his mouth, and manage to reach for the lube and lather it on myself and between us.

  “Get yourself ready,” I grunt as I switch positions. Kyle pins his ankles over my shoulders and I anchor my cock against his. I grind into him, rocking against the solid wall of his abs.

  His hands reach down, and as he does, his hips tip upwards, blazing into me. I’m all man in this moment, grunting and grabbing and sucking at his mouth, consumed by Consumed by our passionate movements and this incredible man. As
our tongues and our hips swirl, Kyle breathes, “Go on, I’m ready,” and I know he’s as close as I am.

  It takes a second for me to pull away from him, reposition and then I’m delving inside him. The storm that has been threatening on the horizon all night begins to blow away everything in its path. There’s no stopping now, as I rush into him, his fist pulling at himself at the same tempo; both of us are consumed in our thrusting lust.

  As we reach the brink, my balls tighten and my toes stiffen and he meets me so that with one final spasm we empty ourselves of all frustrations and are left with nothing but a burning love.

  Kyle

  The next day it’s our first time out on the track. We’ll get to see what our car, and our team, is made of.

  “Take a deep breath,” I gulp. I’m actually talking to myself. That’s how nervous I am about this whole race weekend thing we have going on here. Don’t get me wrong. I wanted this, and it didn’t make any sense to wait the extra year before I took over when I was almost ready. The intensive period learning Elliott’s job as Team Principal, while he got behind the wheel and started to push our car to its mechanical limits, has done me well. It’s been hard; we’ve been running at full speed since we started this whole thing.

  I have seen a lot of Elliott, but we’ve had no time to chat about anything other than how this car we’re constantly improving will drive us to the front of the pack and help us stay there.

  The simultaneous change in roles for so many people has been a massive learning curve for everyone, and while I am confident in the abilities of our restructured company, being positioned at the helm today is still fucking scary for me.