Page 51 of Octane

I need to talk to Jackson today. I can’t wait around for my sponsors to call him and let them know they’re dropping me. I need to quit before they have the chance to force me out. With a plan laid out, I get into the shower.

As I lather myself with soap, I see Daniel’s figure enter the bathroom through the frosted glass doors of the shower. He walks to the toilet and stands there for a few minutes. When he’s finished, he walks to the door, but stops before exiting the bathroom. My stomach drops when he turns toward the shower and forcefully opens up the door.

“What are you doing up so early?” His eyes narrow as he looks my body up and down.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I swallow the lump in my throat and pray that he leaves me alone. However, the sadistic gleam in his eye tells me he’s got something on his mind. The way his pajama pants jut out in the front confirms it.

As he removes his pants and boxers, I fight to keep the bile from rising from my stomach.Please, just let it be quick.

He steps into the shower with me and lets the water rush over his body.

Turning to face me, he tucks his hand behind my head and pulls me toward him. As his lips touch mine, he forces his tongue into my mouth. It feels like I’m kissing a slug. He grinds himself against my stomach and pinches my nipple, painfully, causing me to cry out. With an evil smirk, he turns me around and bends me over.

He smacks my ass and then lifts my right leg, placing it on the built-in bench in our shower. I take a deep breath and try not to vomit while he’s inside of me. My mind usually drifts during the fifteen seconds that it takes for him to come, but considering my happy place is the racetrack, I don’t think that will do the trick this time.

After Daniel finishes, he washes up and leaves me in the shower to do the same. I had already washed once, but I do it twice more. I always feel dirty after being with him. Thankfully, it doesn’t take him long to get ready, and he is out the door fifteen minutes later.

Moving a little slower than normal, I take my time getting dressed. I put the morning news on in the background, which I never do, but I want to see the sports segment. They mention yesterday’s race, but only talk about the top three winners. As shitty as I’m feeling, it doesn’t keep a smile from stretching across my face when they replay Nate’s celebration on Victory Lane. A win for Powell Racing, no matter the driver, is incredible.

I turn the television off after that and pick up a book. Hopping back into bed, I let my imagination take me to a place where the hero worships the ground that his girl walks on.

I allow myself to journey through a perfect dream world for a couple of hours before tearing my eyes from the page. I check the time again.

8:00 a.m. I guess I should finish getting ready.

I’m both dreading and looking forward to speaking to Jackson this morning. Once my hair and makeup are perfect, I tell myself I’ve wasted enough time. I check the time again.

8:45 a.m.

I grab my coffee and decide that I’ll walk to Jackson’s office. I can use the fresh air.

* * *

Stepping off the elevator,I’m reminded of the last time I was here. My body heats up as I think about the electricity that shot through me as Jackson’s lips hovered so closely to mine.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” the receptionist asks me.

“Hello, is Jackson available?”

“He’s not in just yet, but when he does get here, he’ll be in meetings all morning,” her eyes scan her computer screen. “It looks like he has some availability this afternoon, though.”

“Oh, okay.” My shoulders droop and I exhale a disappointed sigh.

Making an appointment hadn’t factored into my plan, and I feel stupid for thinking his schedule would be wide open.

“Can I have your name?”

“No, never—”

“Sawyer? Hey, what are you doing here?”

Jackson’s seductive timbre has me whipping around to face him. I’ll never miss seeing him in a suit. He looks like he just stepped off the cover of GQ magazine.

“Oh, um. You’re busy, and it’s not important. I’m just going to go.”

What am I saying? Ofcourseit’s important. It’s the end of my racing career.

“No. Nonsense. Bethany, push my ten o’clock, and cancel my eleven. I didn’t want to meet with Carl to begin with. So that’ll take care of that.”

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