Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
“Are you gonna be okay?” Lana asks hours later, her voice low. We just left the meet and greet, and she’s got ten minutes until she’s expected to be ready to race. It’s unsettling knowing that I have nowhere to be right now.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask, my shield up, but as she always does, she sees right through it.
She steps closer, her face softening. Her hand lifts, cupping my cheek and forcing me to look at her.
On instinct, an arm moves to wrap around her waist, pulling her front to mine, and the tension I didn’t realize was in my chest eases just a bit.
“You don’t have to do that with me,” she whispers.
It’s been a busy couple of hours, during which I somehow found a private inspector in the area who could come in and check not only Lana’s truck but everyone’s to ensure there were no hidden issues. I may have had him check Lana’s twice, but that’s neither here nor there.
All to find out that my truck was the only one tampered with.
Truth be told, I don’t know what to do with that information or how to feel about it. So I’m just trying to stay positive, though Lana quickly sees right through it.
“I’m okay,” I say. “Really.”
“Roman—”
“I’m excited to watch you race. I’ve never gotten the chance to watch without being down there with you.” She looks over my face, reading whatever microscopic changes she finds before letting out a deep sigh and moving to her tiptoes to press her lips to mine.
“I’ll take care of him for you,” Demi says from beside us. I’m planning to sit with Lana’s crew chief for the race.
“We’re going to have fun,” I state, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Lana looks from her friend to me and grimaces.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she says, and I let out a laugh that feels out of place for the day’s heaviness before giving her one last kiss. “I’m going to be just fine, Lana.”
“I can—”
“No,” I say firmly before she even suggests staying back. Even if the idea of Lana racing today sends panic straight into my chest, I know if I ever want things to work with us, I’m going to have to be okay with her doing whatever she wants. I can never tell her what to do.
Starting right now.
“No. You’re racing. I need you to kick Tyler’s ass for me, remember?” I ask, pressing my lips to hers. She rolls her eyes and lets out a little laugh.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she says with that hint of self-deprecation that I’ve come to know and hate in her. “I wouldn’t hold your breath, though.” She starts to step away, but I grip her wrist, tugging her to me before she can get far.
“I’m serious, Lana. You can take the whole thing.”
“Because you’re not there?” she asks. I pull her in close, my face lacking any of the humor that is on hers.
“Stop that,” I say. “Stop thinking you’re not good enough to win.
You are, Lana. You’ve been second or third in every race for weeks.
” She lifts a shoulder, but I put a hand beneath her chin and tip it up.
“You’re good enough to make it into qualifying, Lana.
I’m not just saying that because I’m wildly into you, either.
I’m saying it because it’s true. I’ve been in this a long time, and I’ve seen people come and go, and you’ve got talent.
” It’s clear she wants to look away, but my grip on her chin holds her in place, forcing her to look at me. “Now, go out there and win it, Lana.”
“For you?” she asks with that little smirk, making my cock twitch. If we had more time, I’d drag her into a closet or the locker room and fuck her until she saw things my way. But we don’t, so instead, I simply press my lips to hers, hard and fast.
“No, baby. For you. Do it for you. And for all those little girls who come to see you and think you’re the shit.
” She scrunches her nose, a sure sign that she’s getting emotional but wants to hide it, so I kiss her there before stepping back.
“Now go,” I say, waving her off, and like the good girl she is, she does as she’s asked, jogging away to the arena.
“You’re good for her,” Demi says as we follow in the same direction but slower.
“You think?”
“Oh yeah. She…” Demi gets a strange look, far off and wandering, like she knows something I don’t. “She was born to be here. She doesn’t know it yet, but she will. Having someone else in her corner, encouraging her, confirming that fact is good for her.” I smile down at the brunette and nod.
“She’s good for me too,” I say, and I’ve never meant anything more in my life.
My stomach is in knots the entire race, not because I wish I were out there, but because Lana is. Every move she makes, every trick and jump, has me holding my breath until she’s back on all four tires.
Is this what it feels like to really, truly care about someone? The constant panic and fear?
Instead of dwelling on that, though, I stand in the pit, giving her a thumbs-up when I can and trying my best to stay out of the crew's way, the strangest mix of complete pride and utter panic flashing through me with every move.
She’s fucking magnificent out there. I know this isn’t what she originally planned to do with her life, that this is just something that fell into her lap, but Demi’s right: she was born to be here.
It’s clear to anyone. And when she nails a cross-tread into a nose wheelie, I know in my gut that she’s got the entire thing on lock.
The entire stadium erupts into cheers, and I’m among them. I desperately wish I could see her happy face. Even more so when the results are announced, and she learns she won her first race, just like I told her she would.
I badly want to race onto the field when she wins, but the knowledge that if I do, I’ll be suspended from future races is the only thing that stops me. It’s one of the very few hard-and-fast rules here, and all I need is for it to get back to my dad that I was suspended from another circuit.
Instead, I wait until she’s out of her truck and has handed off her helmet. “You did fucking amazing,” I say, walking alongside her as we head out of the arena. I try to keep my hands to myself while she moves with the cutest little excited skip.
“I can’t believe it. I—” she starts, but it cuts off when, the second we step into the hall, I grip her wrist and start moving.
“Rome,” she says with a soft giggle, following along as I nearly drag her toward the women’s locker room.
The perk of there being no other women drivers is that, to my knowledge, no one else needs the locker room after races.
This is confirmed when I tug her inside, lock the door, and give the place a quick once-over.
When I finish, Lana is watching me with a raised eyebrow, her suit zipped down and hanging at her waist.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Making sure it’s all clear,” I say, then step toward her, pulling her into me as I push her back to the line of lockers.
“Roman!” she says with a laugh, but it’s swallowed by my mouth when I press a kiss to hers, hard and deep.
“God, that was so hot,” I groan as I pull her into me, her body lining up with mine.
“What are you doing?” she asks with a giggle as I wind her braid around my hand, using it to direct her face to mine for a hot kiss.
“I thought it was obvious,” I say, kneeling and beginning to remove her boots.
Next, I start to push her suit down, leaving it in a pile on the floor before removing her shorts and underwear.
Finally, I press a kiss right above where the tight curls sit, then look up at her from my knees.
“I’m gonna give the winner her prize.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, an entertained smile on her lips.
The small laugh turns to a sigh when I part her, pressing a feather-light kiss to her clit.
“It was only one race,” she breathes. “I’m sure you’ll kick my ass again next time. It was a fluke.”
Irritation flares through me at her words and the realization of how much work I still have to do to make her see her own worth.
I’ll do it happily, though.
Instead of continuing my work, I stand, grab her wrist, and pull her to the wall with a bench.
Sitting down, I tug her down into my lap, her lower belly across my legs, her hands on the bench.
I position her ass up in my lap before I lift a hand and smack it down on the firm skin.
The skin turns pink immediately, and she looks over her shoulder at me.
“What was that for?” she asks with a glare, but my hand comes down again, hard, and a breath leaves her lips.
More color blooms on her skin, mirrored on her cheeks now, and I rub her ass before repeating this move.
This time, I watch her already glistening pussy between her slightly spread legs, and see her tightening.
My girl likes this. I have to stifle a satisfied moan, instead answering her earlier question.
“I told you if you belittle yourself, I’m spanking you,” I remind her.
“I didn’t belittle myself!” she argues.
“You said you only won because I wasn’t there.” My hand starts to rub soothing circles over her cheeks.
“We both know it’s tr—” Her words are cut off with another sharp crack on her ass.
“Don’t diminish your accomplishments, Lana,” I scold, voice firm.
“I wasn’t—” Again, my hand lands on her ass, and this time she barely swallows a small moan. I bite back a groan of my own as I rub my hand gently over the warm, pink skin.
“Not sure this is really doing the job at punishing you, though,” I grumble, my hand sliding between her legs. “You’re soaked, baby.”
“It’s from before when you were kissing me,” she says, then tries to shift, but my hand on her lower back holds her in place gently.
“Are you going to believe in yourself from now on?” I ask. There’s the briefest moment of hesitation, and my cock twitches.
“Maybe,” she says, looking over her shoulder with a wide, taunting grin.
This fucking woman. Absolutely perfection.