Three Words

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Summary: Sometimes words don’t seem like enough.

AUTHOR: Liz
EMAIL: liz@cryptoffic.com
RATING: PG-13
CHARACTER: Dale Earnhardt Jr/Kevin Harvick, Dale Jr POV
GENRES: Romance/Slash
COMPLETED: December 26, 2008
WORD COUNT: 1,148
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first fic, please let me know what you think!
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Run my sweaty palms down the sides of my jeans and take a few deep breaths. Jesus, you’d think this was our first date or something. Look around the room, double-checking that everything’s how it should be. Linen tablecloth in place, table’s set, candles burning. Bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket.

Glance back to the ivory candles, wax slowly sliding down, and shake my head as I remember how I finally managed to get them without trudging all the way out to a store. Who the hell knew those tall candles were called “tapers?” Thank god for Kelley. Tried to describe them to her over the phone but between the girls fighting for her attention, my phone cutting out and me just repeating, “You know, those tall candles!” we didn’t get very far. She finally just told me to shut up and come over and take whatever I was talking about. That’s family love, right there. Wanted to know why I needed them and I just blew her off ‘cause hell, we’re close, but we’re not that damn close. I can see me now telling her, “Oh yeah Kel, I’m makin’ my boyfriend a nice romantic dinner and later I’ma let him fuck my brains out.”

Pull the roasting pan out of the oven so it can start to cool and throw a dash of salt on the chicken, just for good measure. Lift the lid off the pot on the cooktop and moist steam rushes out, along with the warm scent of mashed potatoes with white pepper…just the way I know he likes ‘em.

Kev should be home any minute now. He had a team meeting at RCR to go over strategy for this week’s race at Martinsville. Richard thinks RCR overall has a long-shot chance at the Cup and is pushing for team unity to get all three cars up in the points. Try not to think about my own chances for the Championship, shot to hell with blown tires and bad luck. Close my eyes and try and rid my mind of the pervasive, persistent frustration of not having accomplished half of what I’ve wanted to this year…and finally manage to smile when I think of what tonight will bring.

I’m not a romantic. Never have been, never will be. Leaving cute little notes for no reason, spelling out sweet sayings with candy hearts, writing love poems, it just ain’t my style. I prefer to show my emotions…my love…in the bedroom. Like to show it in every lingering caress, every deep kiss, every slow thrust. Lick my lips unconsciously when I remember the last time I managed to convince Kev it’d be just as satisfying to take our time, go slow, as it would be to go at it for five hard rounds.

Voracious doesn’t even come close to describing Kevin in bed. His intensity, his passion…I’ve never been with anyone, man or woman, who’s even come close. And his endurance… The man almost killed me our first time together when he got me off with his hand, then again when he dropped down to his knees, before finally taking me to his bed and blowing my mind yet again. For Kev, the quality of sex is directly proportional to the number of orgasms one has. God knows I ain’t complain’ about his philosophy, it’s led to many a memorable night. But when I can convince him to slow it down, when he lets me bring him to that edge and keep him there again and again…the longing in his eyes, the pleading words he pants at me…just ain’t nothin’ better. Feel a smirk forming on my lips and I just can’t wait for him to get here.

Pour the green beans into a strainer then into a glass bowl and set it on the table. Spoon out a bowl of potatoes and manage not to drop it ‘cause they’re hot as hell, and I set them out as well. Look over the glasses of water and the glasses for the wine…yep, looks good. Cloth napkins folded neatly but not fancily ‘cause damn, I ain’t got that kinda patience.

Gaze at everything spread out before me and I can barely believe I did all this. But he deserves it. God, he deserves this and so much more. For putting up with me all those weekends when I bitch about my car and my team. For not nagging at me about my endless sponsor appearances.

For understanding that those three little words – I love you – don’t fall easily or often from my lips.

I know he thinks I’m the one making the big sacrifice in our relationship – because he has her. I know he feels guilty sometimes, even after all our time together and even after I tell him to just let it go…because I have. He told me once early on that I could hook up with women whenever I wanted, that he wouldn’t mind…but one look in his eyes told me otherwise. I don’t know what made him think I could just go out and screw random pit lizards. I mean, no doubt women can be gorgeous creatures. Hell, you can’t beat a nice pair of tits. But I can turn on Cinemax and get pretty much the same cheap thrill.

No, I made it clear to him a long time ago that I’m a one-person kinda man. Let him know that he’s the only one I want to celebrate poles, wins, hell, even top-10’s with. Let him into my life, into my bedroom and into my heart.

I’m startled from my thoughts by the crunching of gravel. Feel anxious butterflies in my stomach as I hear a car door slam. Take one quick last glance at everything and hope I don’t make a complete fool of myself. I just want him to know that while I’m not a damn Romeo, I can get my shit together sometimes. Drum my fingers nervously on the countertop and hear the front door swing open and then –

“June?”

“In here!”

He’s preoccupied, shaking out of his jacket, pulling off his hat as he walks towards the kitchen, not paying attention to what’s ahead.

“Christ, RC wanted to go over everything, the springs, the tire pressures…finally me, Jeff and Clint begged out. Left Todd and the boys there to go over last year’s notes and pit strategy—"

Eyes wide, mouth open but no words as he finally looks up at the table and then to me. Can’t help the grin of satisfaction spreading across my face, ‘cause it’s not often you can render Kevin Harvick speechless. Clear my throat and stare straight into his eyes and I know he’s trying to figure out why I did this, what’s so important about today…and my reason is very simple.

“All for you babe. ‘Cause…I love ya Kev.”

 

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