47. Wilder
I’m still riding high as the private car I hired hurtles its way down the road.
Fifth in the PRI league! Now sure, winning would have been nice, and standing on the podium again would have been great, but fucking fifth overall?
That’s something that even sixteen-year-old me who used to sneak into The Academy, two years before I even went there, would’ve never even let myself consider.
I know I’m good, and that’s not being cocky, it’s just a fact, but I also know others are better, older, more experienced.
So to have achieved what I have, to outdo both my father and grandfather, well I can’t even fathom it.
It’s why I’m here now, because there is no one I’d rather celebrate this with.
"Where are we going?" Reed asks the question for the seventh time since we left the hotel, and I grin without looking away from the road.
"You'll find out.”
"I hate surprises."
"No, you don't."
He sighs dramatically, and I meet the driver’s stare as he smirks. I took a page out of Matteo’s book, and had everyone involved in tonight's surprise sign an NDA. It felt dirty and somewhat unnecessary, but I know it will make Reed feel better.
The city gives way to open desert, as we start to leave the strip behind, but it isn’t long until we reach our destination. Reed sits up higher in his seat as the driver pulls into a private entrance, and it’s clear to anyone that this place is closed for the night.
“Wild?” Reed asks in confusion, as the security guard waves us through. “What did you do?”
I shrug as if all of this is casual. “I may have rented us a race track.” I’m using the term rent a little loosely, it cost me fifty grand to make this happen.
Reed turns to stare at me in shock. “You rented an entire race track?” I nod, shrugging again.
“It's our last night.”
“That's your justification?”
“I thought it was a pretty good one.”
He shakes his head as we pull up outside, and I quickly get out and round the car to open his door for him.
There isn’t a single other car, person, and no one working except for the security guard.
The guy I spoke to said he would set up some low lights to not draw too much attention, and leave the car I picked out waiting in the garage.
It’s just me, Reed, and several miles of flawless asphalt.
Reed climbs out slowly, turning in a circle, before he lets me guide him through the entrance. It’s eerily silent, and a calmness settles over me as he lets me slip my hand into his.
“It's so quiet”
“Exactly.:
The wind whistles softly across the barriers, and the floodlights hum overhead.
Somewhere in the distance, a coyote calls, and everything else that exists feels a million miles away.
The car waiting in the pit lane isn't one of the championship cars, it’s just a lightweight GT I'd specifically requested because I knew Reed would enjoy it.
He walks around it slowly, dragging his delicate fingers along the hood. “This is nice,” he murmurs, as if he’s admiring a sunset or something, and I can’t hide my smirk.
“Ready to go for a ride?”
At my question he freezes. “A ride? What do you mean a…” his voice trails off before he can finish his question. “You want me to get in this?” he asks incredulously, and I nod, moving to get ready and ignoring his protests.
Five minutes later we're strapped in, harnesses tight and helmets on. The cockpit suddenly feels wonderfully familiar with him by my side, and I glance sideways. “You ready?”
Reed adjusts his visor and nods slowly. “As I'll ever be,” he chokes out, and for some reason I find his nerves endearing.
Probably because I find everything about him endearing, and I’m smiling wide as I reach out and press the starter. The engine barks into life, and the vibration travels through the seat and into my chest.
“Don’t worry, Blue, I won’t crash when I’ve got precious cargo,” I tease with a wink, before I floor it out of the pit lane and send him into the back of his seat with a yelp.
There is nothing but an empty track before me, so I squeeze the throttle and let the engine sing, making Reed hold onto the door in a vice-like grip.
“You’re crazy,” Reed cackles through the headset, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Only a little,” I shout back, before speeding up even more and taking the first corner with expert precision.
My heart is beating rapidly in my chest, which has everything to do with him and nothing to do with what we’re doing. It’s only now I realize that it doesn’t matter what we’re doing, he just makes me feel alive, like he’s in me, and reshaping me forever.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, as his head snaps toward me. I can’t see his eyes through his helmet, but I have the sparkling blue tones memorized by now.
He gives me a subtle nod and I smile, even though he won’t see it, switching gears and pushing us even faster.
We’re both quiet after that, just taking in the track as I race us around, lap after lap, and it all feels effortless.
No cameras, no pressure, just nothing but me and him and a bit of fun.
A few laps pass before Reed speaks again. “I get it now.” He says the words so quietly that they’re almost drowned out by the noise.
“What?”
“Why you love this.” I glance at him briefly, but he isn't looking at me. He's looking through the windshield, watching the circuit unfold beneath the lights. “It makes everything else disappear,” he adds quietly, and his words make my heart ache.
“Exactly.”
There’s nothing else we can say, so I show him the track instead, what it takes to do what I do, and he notices everything.
Not the car and the way it moves, but the way I hold my breath as I take a corner, or how my grip loosens when we fall into a straight line.
This is probably the most honest version of myself he will ever see.
No audience, no need to put on a show, just me and the sport I fell in love with when I was eight years old.
After another few laps I ease off the throttle, and the engine noise softens as I coast around the final corners. I take my time enjoying the end of the track, and feel Reed watching me the entire time.
“I like this version of you,” he says softly, and the words settle somewhere between my ribs, somewhere permanent.
I don’t trust myself to answer without spilling my guts right here all over the asphalt, so instead I stay quiet and guide the car back into the pit lane.
It feels weird to find it without mechanics waiting, or to see Sid ready to curse me out for some risky move, especially after the last few months.
Instead I bring the car to a smooth stop in the dimly-lit garage and press the kill switch.
I reach for my belts and the buckle hasn't even clicked free before I hear his.
One sharp, metallic snap, then another, and I barely have time to look up.
“What are you…” my voice trails off because he is already out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.
My door is being yanked open before I've managed to free my second shoulder strap. “Blue?” I ask in confusion.
He reaches in, unclipping the last buckle himself with impatient fingers, and then my helmet is lifted clean off my head.
His own helmet hits the concrete with a dull thud a second later, abandoned somewhere behind him.
His hair is a complete mess, his cheeks are flushed, but his eyes are alight with a look I have never seen before.
There is no caution, no uncertainty, just pure determination, like it’s the last time he will ever see me.
“You’re fucking perfect, Wild.” Before I can tell him that he is too, he leans down, his hands finding my face, and then he’s kissing me, erasing any response I could have come up with.
He kisses me hard enough to steal every coherent thought from my head, trying to climb into my lap, as if he is desperate to get close to me.
So I push against him, forcing him back until I can climb from the car, his lips never leaving mine.
I storm around blindly until the back of his legs hit some kind of bench, then I grip his hips and lift him.
Wrapping his legs around me, I turn until I can drop down into a seated position so he can straddle me right here in the garage.
His mouth is hot and insistent, and I open my own and let his tongue slide against mine.
I can’t hold back my groan at the taste of him, addicted to the way he always tastes so fucking sweet.
His hot breath and needy moans are panted against my lips, as he presses his body fully against mine, and fuck I could die right now and go to hell a happy man.
My mouth breaks from his to drag down along his jaw, flicking my tongue against his skin and relishing in the way he tips his head back, silently begging for more.
“Fuck, Blue, I’m fucking addicted to you,” I grunt against his jugular, nibbling on his pulse point, and his hands tighten around my neck.
“The feeling is mutual,” he sighs, rocking his hips against my rapidly-hardening cock. “It’s never fucking enough with you,” he adds in an almost whisper, and I can’t help but drag his mouth back to mine.
We kiss almost as recklessly as I just drove, committing one another to memory, as our bodies writhe together as one.
He was right, it’s never enough with him, no matter how many times I kiss him, fuck him, make him mine, I just never stop needing more.
One of my hands slides down and grips him over his pants, making him whimper against my mouth, and fuck I want to swallow him whole.
My hands fly to his belt, ripping it clean out of his pant loops and tossing it aside, so I can free his hard and already leaking cock. “Always so ready for me, baby,” I groan, spitting in my hand before fisting him at his base.
Reed shudders at my touch, his eyes holding mine, as he drops his forehead to mine. “I think my cock is always ready whenever you’re in my vicinity,” he gasps, thrusting up into my palm, and I grin.