Page 82 of Race to Me

Trying to get some fresh air, I barely roll open the window. “Are you happy?” Foster finally asks, leaning his long frame towards me.

Slowly, I slide in between him and the steering wheel, straddling him. “Of course I am. I have you.”

A sideways grin as crooked and delectable as anything I’ve ever seen adorns his face. “You’re sweet, baby, but besides me ... besides my presence bringing you happiness ... are you happy?”

“Yes,” I whisper without hesitating. It’s all thanks to him, though. “Why are you asking this?” I wonder, running my hand through his damp hair. For a moment, he looks like he’s going to say something, but instead, he pulls me in for a kiss. “Foster,” I breathe between his lips, going into a trance with his hands gripping me in every perfect place.

“Yes, Freckles?”

Deep breath. Don’t pass out.”I... I lo—”

Foster cuts me off, flipping my body to rest against the long leather seat while he hovers above me. His chain tickles my nose, and his damp hair drips cool water against my flushed skin. “What was that?” he asks, dipping his head down to nibble my ear.

Thirty-One

“I...” shit. I can’t think or breathe. His inked hands cup my breasts, then they move down to push my skirt up.

“I can’t get enough of you in that skirt.” Foster admits, grinning seductively.

Playfully, in a torturing tease, he grips my hips and bucks his hard length between my legs. I want to rip his pants off, to throw myself onto him and lose myself with him inside of me.

His hand dips between my legs, and his finger slides slowly across my clit. “Fuck me, Foster.” I moan, biting my lip to keep from screaming into the night air as it seeps in through the barely cracked window.

“Gladly,” he growls lowly. Before taking his pants off, he slides down and plants his lips along my exposed thighs, his tongue landing between my legs. I grip his hair in my fingers when he kisses me over my panties before pulling them off.

“Foster ...” I gasp out.

“Yes, Freckles?” He chuckles, his warm breath against my clit sending a pleasurable shiver through me.

I buck my hips towards him, not wanting this feeling to go away. “Don’t ... stop.” I plead.

His hands cover my breasts again, and he squeezes them tightly when I come undone, my thighs coming together, keeping his face between them. Heavy breathing overtakes me as he slides up. The rip of a condom wrapper and the exhilarating rush of him entering me, filling me ... It makes me feel like I’m floating on air.

He runs his thumb slowly along my bottom lip, and his tongue dives into my mouth mimicking the way his cock dips inside of me. Thunder shakes the car as lighting cracks around, the shining electricity showcasing Foster’s sharp-as-a-knife jawline when he opens his full lips to let out a delicious groan.

My fingertips slide across the fogged window like Rose on the Titanic, heated and passionate.

I moan into the air, able to look up and see the clouded sky from my position. I never want this to end—I never want this night to end.

Our hands are tangled together when he moves faster, harder. It’s a fiery passionate moment shared between only us and the falling rain as we both climax to the sound of ground-quaking thunder.

With him still nestled on top of me, I slide my index finger along his jawline. “I want to do this all day tomorrow since you won’t be racing.”

“I’m still racing.” He pants, zipping his pants back up.

I point upward. “Have you seen the storm? This is just the beginning.”

“Still racing,” Foster shrugs, dipping his body down to kiss me.

I scurry from underneath him, pulling my skirt up. “During a tropical storm? A possible hurricane?” I ask, dumbfounded.

Frustrated and heated, he gets back into the driver’s seat. “Look, it’s just ... the bets are higher when there’s more at stake.”

“Like your fucking life?” I shout, my body jumping involuntarily.

“Freckles, listen—”

“What do you need the money for so badly that you’d risk your life?” I gasp. “Is that why you were asking if I was happy?”

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