36. Chapter 36
Chapter thirty-six
I rwindale is hot as hell and everything is pissing me off today. Particularly Griffin. I’m reaching the end of my rope. I fucking want him—and his body—so badly. I can’t take it. He’s still holding out on me, avoiding being alone with me, and not responding to my flirting. My cut is pretty much healed, so he can’t use that as an excuse anymore. The worst is he’s not being a jerk to me, at all. He’s maintained this new mature, level-headed bastard personality. He thinks about what he says and does before acting.
I don’t like it.
I want him blowing up, grabbing my ass, calling me a pushy bitch, and telling me what he would put in my dirty mouth after I tell him off. It’s made me cranky, which is bad for business at the Irwindale races. I am really trying to interact with fans and pimp the Smoke and Mirrors team, but my mind is elsewhere. Mainly, it’s wrapped up in bed with a certain stormy-eyed, hard-bodied, dirty-talking drift racer with a short fuse. I am practically crawling out of my skin and so distracted, even Paul is noticing.
“Shelby, do you need to take a break? Maybe walk around or something? You are fidgety as all hell and I don’t know what to make of it. Is it a, um, a girl thing?” He says the last part quietly, as if ‘a girl thing’ is a particularly gruesome venereal disease or something. Gee, thanks for lumping women’s issues in with sexually transmitted infections, buddy.
I roll my eyes, but I am so desperate for insight into Griffin, I figure I can pester Paul to get answers. “What the fuck is wrong with Griffin?”
“Uh, I don’t, um, what?” Paul seems even more confused by my question than he was by my preoccupation.
“Griffin isn’t being himself. Where’s the insulting bad boy? Where’s the guy who would die before he passes up any chance to tell me off? I can practically strip naked in front of him and he would ignore me. Why doesn’t he want me?” I can’t help the whine of frustration that enters my voice as I finish, shifting from one stiletto heel to the other and crossing my arms petulantly across my chest. And they say guys get blue balls. There has to be a female equivalent, because I can assure you, we get something .
“Ah shit, Shelby, I don’t think I’m qualified to have this kind of conversation with you. Maybe you want to talk to Marny instead? She’s coming by this afternoon to watch the top sixteen races. I’m sure she would know what to say. Or maybe you just want to talk to Griff about this instead? ”
“He’s avoiding me.” I pout, then catch myself and wipe the childish expression from my face. “You’re right. I should just find him and make him tell me.”
“Yeah, yeah, go on ahead. I think he was in the trailer. You take all the time you want. I’ll hold down the booth,” he says quickly, obviously regretting ever asking me what the problem was. The relief on his face is so strong it nearly has a smell, but I can’t be bothered by that observation, I’m on a mission.
I nod and march away from Paul, ready to give Griffin a piece of my mind. I look around the pit area and see Ryan and Ezra with their heads bent over the Nissan, swapping out rims and tires before the next race. Cole is probably in the stands watching the rest of the preliminary races with his notebook in hand. I saw Wyatt head off earlier, so that means Griffin is around here somewhere, alone. I duck into the Supra’s covered trailer and find him bent over the hood, checking fluid levels. It’s hot as hell in here, and he has his fire suit pushed down to his hips, his Part Breakers Hoonigan T-shirt stuck to his broad chest and shoulders with sweat.
I slide around the car quietly and grab his collar, hauling him up in front of me. “Listen, asshole,” I hiss in his face, raking his features with my eyes. “I don’t know what your endgame is, but I don’t like what’s going on right now. I want you back to your old self.” I push my finger into his chest and leave it there, emphasizing every word of my frustration. “If I’m being a crazy bitch, I want you calling me on it. If you are thinking about me at all, I want to hear it. If you want to fuck me, I want your hands all over me, taking what is yours. I’ll wait if I have to, but I don’t want to. So don’t make me wait too long, baby, because I want you so badly. I need you filling me again. I need your mouth on me and your hands tearing me apart.” I tip my head back just thinking about it, my voice thick and my eyes closing with desire. This isn’t helping me at all.
“You’re a crazy bitch,” he says, grabbing the wrist of the hand I have twisted in his shirt. He bends it down and behind my back, pushing me against the tool chest that lines the wall of the trailer behind us. “You know how I feel about your dirty mouth. It makes me want to do bad things to you. It makes me want to get you naked and spank you for being a naughty girl.”
I whimper and buck my hips against his as he holds me against the tool chests. I reach my mouth toward his, wanting to bite his lip and plunge my tongue into the warmth that is his mouth finally saying everything I want to hear. I narrow my eyes. “Do it,” I challenge when he pulls his face just out of reach.
“Not yet.” He pushes his hips into mine, grinding on my piercing until I tremble.
I feel my desire soaking my panties. I use my free hand to grab his and slide it under my skirt until his fingertips trail through the silky heat. He groans and squeezes my captured wrist behind my back as his other hand cups and strokes me through my panties. I gasp as his fingers push aside the wet material and enter me shallowly. I try to bear down on his fingers, my core already gripping him, but he holds me in place, just teasing the entrance.
My legs are shaking as I balance on the brink of coming apart, just needing him to touch me a little more. After weeks of getting nothing, not even taking care of myself, I’m engulfed in need and so ready to explode.
“No coming, baby,” he says, trailing his nose along my face and whispering in my ear. “I want to be inside of you when you do. ”
“Oh God,” I breathe raggedly into his ear as he nips at my neck and ever so gently slides his fingers through my slick folds. He stays away from my clit and just barely dips into my entrance in a frustrating display of self-control. “Fuck me, please.” The heat and longing is building, the need for him fierce and all-consuming.
“Not here, where anyone can see or hear you. No, baby. You gotta wait for me to fuck you. And I’m not promising it will be today. Are you willing to wait? I promise it will be worth it.” He drives one finger into me slowly and caresses my spot in a maddening way that is so, so good, but just not enough.
“Yes! Yes, I’ll wait. God, I want you so badly. Oh, please,” I say, the sweet agony of my impending release now at a pitch that is almost impossible to return from. Yet, I just agreed to wait for it. Damn him.
“Good,” he says, withdrawing his fingers and releasing my hand. “You’re mine and I want you feeling good at my hands. But not right now when we have jobs to do. Get out of here, you fucking minx.” His smile is evil as he slaps my ass and sends me wobbling toward the exit of the trailer.
Jesus Christ. This man just made me fall in love with him all over again. It’s good to have him back. I pause at the door and look back at him, leaning his hip against the Supra. “You better make good on that promise soon. I want you more than ever now.” So much for playing it cool and waiting.