Chapter 29
[Dart]
Eventually, I turn on the television, randomly scrolling until I come across a list of recorded events.
Dart_Feb
Dart_May
Dart_July
The list spans three years. Three years of my races.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper, staring at the screen, disbelief swirling inside me before my chest swells.
She was following me. She followed my career. The ups and downs. That’s how she knew I’d had accidents prior to the last one. She’d been keeping tabs, or keeping up, or just . . . still interested in what I was doing. In me.
Maybe she hadn’t been there. Maybe she didn’t agree with my racing decision, but she’d been curious enough to watch me. To keep a record of it. Maybe, just maybe, she silently supported me.
Because she still cared about me.
I scrub a hand down my face, recalling our kiss from before she left. It was bold of me to ask and even bolder to want something deeper than a soft brush of our lips. I wanted to imprint myself on her, hoping she’d remember me while she was out with her girls.
And yet, this moment confirms that she never forgot me.
Maybe she didn’t think of me as often as I thought of her, but she still thought about me once in a while. Not just once a year when I sent her flowers on our anniversary. But other days, other months, during the racing season.
She’d been in the corner, quiet and distant, but still somehow present.
My hand trembles as I lift the remote and click on the first race.
I watch with rapture at how I take each turn, listening to the announcer’s comment.
A late entry.
A rising star.
One to watch.
Pride clutches in my chest, knowing what position I came in that first race. Not first place, but high enough to garner notice. To keep Velocity interested and move me up in their roster.
I get lost in the memories, watching another race, and another, until I no longer know what time it is.
When the whirl of the front door unlocking happens, I pause the race and shift on the couch. The house is mainly dark, other than the illumination from the television.
Trinity seems to fumble, tripping over something. “Oopsie.”
I smile, rub my hands down my sweatpants, and stand.
She enters my view through the archway to the entry, and then stumbles to a stop, facing me. Holding up a hand, pointing a finger in the air, she says, “I need water.” She turns toward the kitchen, and I hear the faucet turn on and water gush from it. A cabinet door gently slams shut.
Trinity reappears through the kitchen entrance to the dining room, rounds the table, and stands at the end of it, facing me. The couch is between us.
“You doin’ okay?” I ask, chuckling softly. Trin can hold her own with a drink.
“Yeah.” She pauses, chugs some water, and lets out a sigh as she pulls her lips from the glass. “Just thirsty.”
“Have a good time?”
“My friends are the best.” She leans back against the table and takes another long pull of her water.
“How was Mirabelle?” she asks after quenching her thirst.
“Perfect.” Just like her momma.
Trin nods and turns her head in the direction of the television. I’d paused the screen, so my car is front and center, frozen on the track.
“Oopsie,” she whispers again, before looking back at me.
“You watched me.” For some reason, I’m aware of the slow rhythm of my heartbeat. The stance of my feet on the rug. And the distance between Trin and me. “Why?”
She chews her lower lip, staring at that screen. “I just wanted to understand.”
Next thing I know, my foot is on the seat of the couch, and I’m catapulting over it. My heart racing faster than my cars ever did. I move so quickly that she flinches backward, bumping into the dining room table and giggling.
“Ask me anything, Trinity.” I pause in front of her. “I’ll tell you everything. Anything you want to know.”
“Always wondered what was more appealing about it. More appealing than me.” She lowers her head, staring into her glass like water is the most interesting thing in the world.
“Trin,” I sigh, stepping closer to her, tipping up her head by her chin. “Nothing is more appealing than you. Nothing.”
“But you needed it more than me,” she says, holding my gaze a second before looking over my shoulder at the screen again.
“I didn’t . . . I just . . . I wanted control in my life. Maybe barreling down a strip of asphalt at a hundred-ninety miles an hour wasn’t the best example of control, but I needed something.” I wave down my body. “Something to get out the energy, and the nerves. And the failure,” I finish quietly.
“A hundred and ninety.” Her eyes widen, almost comically. The brown is deep and dark in the low light of the room.
I smile because she’s so cute. She’s still wearing my hat, the ends of her hair damp from dancing, and I catch a few strands between my fingers.
“You know I’ve always loved racing, baby. Letting off steam that way.” I sigh. “Maybe it seemed silly thinking a man at forty could start a new career. Join such an elite league.”
Might have been silly to entertain the idea of something more professional than an old canyon and a dirt track. There were guys who’d been racing their entire lives. Guys with legacy in the sport. And then, there I was, forty-one-years old. Racing made me feel alive.
“I just didn’t want to be a failure anymore.”
“You”—Trinity jabs her finger toward me—“are Dart Rivers, and you are not a failure.”
I chuckle at the ferocity in her tone. “How much have you had to drink tonight, baby?”
“Not that much.” She lowers her eyelids and finishes her glass, then sets it on the table behind her. “But seriously, Dart. You’re kind and strong. You’re so good with Mirabelle.”
I smile, appreciating the praise. “But am I good enough for you?”
She shakes her head. “You have never not been good enough, Dart.” She waves toward the screen. “I didn’t need that. Accolades or money to prove to me that you were exactly what I needed. Who I wanted.”
I pause, staring at her. She’s so fierce. So adamant. I was enough for her as I was.
“Those victories felt meaningless without you there, Trin.”
“But you were happier without me.” She leans forward, and I catch her shoulders.
“No. No,” I say louder a second time. “I was not happier without you.”
“It took three years and another accident to bring you back to me,” she says quietly.
I shake my head again. “That accident scared me. Might have broken me a little bit, but it was not the reason I returned. I never stopped thinking about you, wanting you with me.”
My head hadn’t been in that last race, and Max knew it. He’d noticed even before it happened.
You’re distracted, he’d said.
I was lonely. But I hadn’t been able to admit it to him.
“Your accidents scared me too,” she says quietly, leaning toward me and setting her head against my sternum.
“Oh, baby,” I whisper, running my hand up her back and cupping her nape. “I’m here now.”
She lifts her head, eyes big and bright, with a question in them. Her mouth opens, but she shuts it like she can’t say what’s on her mind or ask any more questions.
However, I have one for her. “Why did you record them? The races?”
She shrugs, glancing at the television. “I missed you.” Slowly, she glances back at me. “I just wanted to be a small part of your world.”
“Baby,” I sigh again. “I missed you, too. So, so much. You’re the best part of my life. The only part that truly matters. You and Mirabelle. And I’m so grateful you’ve let me be a part of your lives.”
More grateful than she’ll ever know. She’s given me a second chance. One I don’t want to fuck up.
“I want to be a part of your world, Trin. Yours and Mirabelle’s. And I want you to be a part of mine.”
Her gaze latches onto mine.
“Forever,” I whisper.
She fists my shirt and pulls me closer, bringing her mouth to mine in a sweeping kiss. One that’s instantly open-mouthed and all tongue and taking the breath from me before she pulls back.
“You know what else, Dart Rivers?”
I arch a brow, knowing she’s about to enlighten me.
“You’re too sexy for my own good.”
“I’m too sexy for you?” I tease, leaning back and letting my gaze roam down that flirty little country dress with a string just above her breasts and her knees below the hem.
Have kneecaps ever been sexier?
Plus, my ball cap on her head. I tug the hat off her head and flip it backward on mine. “I think you got that wrong, Forever.” I run my hands up her sides, setting my thumbs beneath her breasts. “You’re the sexy one.”
“Then why haven’t you had sex with me again?”
I’m so stunned, I stand taller, hands frozen on her ribs, tucked under her breasts. “What?”
“We had sex weeks ago, but we haven’t done anything else since then.”
“I was giving you space. And time. And—”
“No more space,” Trinity jabs my chest. “No more time.”
“Trin?” I swallow thickly, but that finger at my chest becomes a sharp weapon, pressing me back with strength I wouldn’t expect from her.
Or maybe I’m just under her spell as she walks me backward until my ass hits the top of the couch.
She slides her finger down my ribs, over my abs, and hooks it in my waistband.
“Damn sweatpants,” she mutters, then glances up at me. “Is that for me?”
We both glance down at what’s obviously long and hard beneath the dark cotton of my pants.
“Always for you, Forever. Only for you.”
With her eyes back on me, she asks, “May I?”
“Please,” I choke out. Please, please, please.
Her hand rests over my hardness, my cock stiffer than it’s ever been. With a firm squeeze from her, I close my eyes. She moans. I don’t make a sound.
I’m revved up but silent. Afraid to break this spell she has me under.
With one long drag up my length and a pinch at the tip, I choke. “Forever.”
She tucks her fingers around the waistband, and I grip the edge of the couch as she slips her hand inside my sweats.
“No underwear?” Her voice is all syrup sweet, but I can’t answer thanks to her confidently wrapping her hand around me, squeezing just the way I like it from her.
“Trin.” I swallow hard before she’s tugging my pants down. Just enough to set me free. The waistband of my sweatpants stretches across my thighs, just below my balls.
She cups me there next, kneading me, tightening her hold.
“Trinity.” My voice rises. Blood rushes through my veins. One of my legs starts to quiver.
When she lowers to her knees in front of me, I see stars before she’s even done anything. Just her hand around my shaft, her mouth nearing the tip.
She gives me a soft kiss, and I nearly come out of my skin.
“Baby,” I whisper-choke, petting over her head once, then setting my hand back on the couch, letting her take control. Letting her lead this dance.
She runs her tongue up the hard length, and my hips buck forward. I might explode before she ever takes me in her mouth.
“So good,” I whisper. No one has ever compared to her.
With one hand on my upper thigh, her other at my base, she opens wide and takes me into her warm, wet mouth.
My eyes close, the sensation too great, but I don’t want to miss a second, so I look down at her.
“So pretty,” I quietly say again. Her lips spread around me, taking me into her.
She smiles at the praise.
“You like that. Being told you’re so good.”
Her grin grows, and she glances up at me.
Damn. My wife is stunning.
She pulls her gaze from me and focuses, clamping her lips around me again and dragging me to the back of her throat.
“Trinity,” I groan, eyes closing once more. The right suction. The right pressure. Her hand. Her mouth. She’s fucking perfect.
She draws back, twirling her tongue around the tip before locking those lips around me again and dragging me deeper. She works me like only she can. Only she knows my body this well.
“Trin.” I set a hand on the back of her head, then dig my fingers into her short hair. Her name is a warning. I’m not going to last long.
How did I ever go so long without her? And not only because of this moment, but because of everything she is.
She is the compassionate, giving one. Tough as nails. And an amazing mother with a huge heart. All of which makes her sexy as fuck.
“Trinity.” My voice rises, the warning louder.
She doubles down, sucking harder, taking me deeper. Saliva drips from the corner of her mouth. My hips buck forward again. I hold onto her head, trying to steady myself.
Suddenly, she slaps my ass, claps her hand on one tight cheek, and tugs me forward.
Stars float before my eyes like a freakin’ firework display. Bright explosions and whistling sounds follow. I might even blackout for thirty seconds, and eventually I sag back against the couch, feeling that initial tremor in my leg turn to shaky knees.
“Baby.” I cup her chin, and she gently pulls off of me, looking up as she wipes a corner of her lips.
“Fuck, Trin.” All the reverence I can muster pours out of me. She might be on her knees in front of me, but I’m the one with weak ones. I’m the one in awe.
I release her chin and hold out my hand, helping her stand.
Then, I gently cup her throat and kiss her, humming against her lips.
“You’re so good to me,” I murmur. Because she always has been.
Slowly, seductively, she smiles. “Now let’s see how good you are to me.”