The Tour

Home : Stories by Catw00man : The Storm Series : The Tour

Summary: After “the beach,” Junior invites Jeff to spend some time in Moorseville.

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: NC-17
SERIES: Storm Series
CHARACTER: Jeff Gordon/Dale Earnhardt Jr., Jeff POV
CATEGORY: Romance
COMPLETED: June 13, 2005
WORD COUNT: 11,525
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. ;-)
DEDICATION: To Pam, to Pam, to Pam, to Pam who somehow got Junior talking to me again. Thank you, you wonderful, beautiful muse!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ok so this thing has already kinda gone AU, since in the first fic I had Jeff win the Championship in ‘04. Also, he made the trip to Paris with Jimmie for the ROC race. *shrugs* Oh well, my fic, my rules, right? Anyway, it picks up shortly after Moonlight Storm.
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Mooresville, NC: December 13th, 2004

I look out the window at the snow covered North Carolina landscape and once again wait to wake up, because this all has to be a dream. Right? This can’t be real, but not even in my wildest fantasies could I have come up with something like this. It’s more than a dream. More than a fantasy. And I keep holding my breath, waiting for it to end.

Because isn’t that what always happens when I’m happy?

I look over to catch him smiling at me from behind the wheel of his truck and push these thoughts aside as I return his grin. Right now, I don’t even care if it is a dream. I’m going to enjoy it. I’m going to take all I can get. Even if I do still feel like I’m in some kind of a dream world.

Honestly, I really did think it was all a dream when I woke up yesterday morning, head slightly pounding from too much whiskey. I just assumed the moonlight beach, the reckless drive, the amazing night, was all an illusion, because Dale would never come to me like that. He would never want me. That’s just too insane to think about.

But then I felt the warm body next to me that I was still curled around. The body that wasn’t his. I remember going stiff in shock. What was he going to think? Did I take advantage of him? He couldn’t possibly….

But then I felt fingers running through my short hair and I couldn’t believe it. I laid there for another long moment, my head still resting on his chest, before finally looking up to meet sparkling blue eyes and the warmest smile that went straight to my soul. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. And everything I felt….

It was all real.

But, God, could it last?

I see the sign on the gate to his land and just have to smile. “Dirty Mo Acres.” Why am I not surprised? Only Junior would “name” his land as if it’s his very own kingdom--but to be honest--I guess it is. We drive through the automated gates into what looks like a winter wonderland and I see him switch the truck into four-wheel drive, even as my mind continues to replay the last 36 hours.

When he smiled down at me I couldn’t even begin to find words. For the first time in a long time I felt completely out of control and I didn’t know what to do. But his smile just turned to a grin as he asked what I wanted for breakfast, reaching for the phone. Honestly, I can’t even remember my mumbled response to him, not that it mattered. He just ordered us food and made himself comfortable, leaning against the head of the bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I swear, in three years, I’ve never been so comfortable. He just smiled at me again and asked if I wanted to check out the sites.

And that’s exactly what we did. Cruising the small island in my rented convertible with Junior still “reaming the shit out of it,” and I don’t remember a time I had more fun. I mean, I’ve known Dale forever it seems like, but we’ve never just hung out all day like that, and it was just so…comfortable. So unlike anything I’m used to. And when we finally did hit the clubs that night, it only got better. I continued to tease him for drinking nothing but beer, while he mocked me for sneaking out back to smoke. Before I knew it, the night was almost gone and we stumbled back into the hotel at almost four in the morning.

I glance up and look out the window as we pass what must be his shop and a huge six-bay garage all blanketed in pure-white, untouched snow. This all feels so surreal. The entire last day and a half has. I swear, I haven’t even had a chance to catch my breath or even think about….

I immediately push all thoughts of him from my mind and focus again on the events of yesterday. Once we finally did get back to the hotel I had no clue what would happen next. I walked with him to his room and honestly thought whatever was going on was over, that is, until he unlocked his door and asked me to “hold on a sec.” So I stood there, unsure of his motivations, when he came back and opened the door with his bag on his shoulder.

I can’t help but smile as I remember the look of insecurity on his face as he asked me if the alcohol from the previous night was still in my room. He knew damn well it was. We’d put his beer in my mini fridge before even heading out that day. I just smiled at him and told him I thought there might be some left and we headed back to my room. I just wish we both hadn’t been so damn exhausted. In almost no time we were both passed out on my bed. But I have to smile again as I remember waking up this morning with his arm around my waist and his head resting against my shoulder.

I’m pulled from my thoughts again as we finally cross a small snow covered bridge and have to shake my head again. This place is so “Junior.” I’ve never actually been here before, but none of it surprises me. Not the go-cart track, the stock car body graveyard, or the fact that this entire place is in the middle of nowhere. I don’t really get it, but for some reason, it really seems to fit him.

And I’m still not sure why I’m here.

I still can’t believe he convinced me to come with him. When he suggested it, I really thought he was joking at first so I just shot back that I’d at least need to go home to do laundry or get some more clothes. But he just looked at me with those crystal blue eyes and replied simply, “I have a washer and dryer,” and I couldn’t say no. So here I am, coming home with him and I have no idea what he expects. He hasn’t made a move, save crashing out on my bed with me, since that first night and being in public yesterday didn’t exactly give me the opportunity to try and find out. Now the tension has been building since I accepted his offer and I’m not sure what to do.

A soft punch at my shoulder and the words, “Hey, Jeff. We’re home,” pull me from my thoughts once again. As I look over to see him push the remote for the garage door, I can’t help but think, home? What’s that? I’ve traveled so much and lived in so many different places nothing really feels like “home” anymore. But the way he says it…it just sounds different.

I shake off these thoughts as I stretch my arms out in front of me, interlocking my fingers, as I reply, “It’s about time,” with a grin. Now maybe we can figure out exactly what is going on here…between us. I glance up at the house in front of me as he slowly begins to pull into one of three garage stalls and can’t help but be a little surprised. I guess I always assumed NASCAR’s “rock star” would have a bigger place…a little more extravagant. But instead, this place just seems so…simple. Maybe he’s right. Maybe there is a lot I don’t know about him.

He parks the Suburban next to what’s obviously a covered ‘Vette and cuts the engine. Then he turns, reaching into the backseat for his bag and I can’t help myself. I reach out, catching his wrist in my hand, and he stops, turning to look at me. “Thanks. For bringing me here,” I tell him softly, running my thumb across the inside of his wrist and just as it has been all day I can feel the tension, the electricity, the connection between us as if it’s a tangible thing.

“You’re welcome,” he replies to me in the same soft tone, meeting my eyes and leaning slightly closer to me. And I want to close the distance between us. I want to press my lips to his again, and suddenly, I know he wouldn’t resist. He’d let me take control. He’d let me kiss him, touch him, drag him into the house and up to his room.

But it’s not what I want.

I know that instantly, even as he drops his eyes briefly and says, “Thanks for comin’,” in a heavily accented voice. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I want more. I feel like there’s more going on here than just sex and I just don’t want to rush things. No matter how much I’m dying to feel him again. I want to see where this is going.

“I couldn’t say no,” I reply to him truthfully and trail my thumb across his wrist again. Then it’s all I can do to pull my hand away and lean back in my seat, even as I wonder how long I can drag this out. I just don’t want him to think the only reason I’m here is to sleep with him.

I watch him closely. See him slowly lick his lips as his eyes trail down to his wrist where I was touching him only seconds ago. I want to know what he’s thinking. What if I’m wrong? What if he doesn’t want more? But before I have a chance to doubt myself even more he looks back up at me, a wry smile on his lips as he says, “Just couldn’t resist my southern charm, huh?”

I grin back at him as he easily breaks the tension between us and tease him back, “That’s it. That damn Earnhardt charisma. No wonder everyone loves you.”

He laughs easily at my teasing and finally pulls his bag from the backseat. Then he reaches for mine, tossing it to me with a grin saying, “Yep. I’m irresistible.”

There’s no mistaking the glint in his eye as he watches me closely for my response. I can’t disappoint and shoot back, “Yeah, sure, a million drunk rednecks can’t be wrong, right?” I smirk at him as I finally open the door and slip out of the truck.

“Hey, I resemble that remark,” he says with a grin as he rounds the front of the truck. Then he flashes me that blinding grin of his and I have to laugh. It really isn’t a surprise everyone loves him. He walks past me, heading for the door to the house and I just follow him, still wondering where I fit in.

We finally reach the door and walk inside and are suddenly attacked by a blur of black and one of gray and white. What the--

“Killer, hey boy,” he says as he leans over to scratch the ears of the black boxer that’s all but attacking him. “Did Kelley take good care of you?” I have to smile, as the dog seems to bounce around, eyes for no one but Dale for the moment. Then I look down, when I feel something brush against my leg, and see a cat rubbing up against my shin. I just have to laugh and remark, “Welcoming committee?”

At my words the jet-black dog finally seems to notice me and stops his excited shaking to level his eyes on me. That’s when I begin to wonder about the name “Killer.” But then Dale just scratches his head again and says, “S’ok boy. It’s just Jeff. He’s supposed to be here.” I swear the dog seems to understand his words as he moves closer to me and nuzzles my hand. I take that as a good sign and reach out to stroke his head, scratching behind his floppy ears the same way Dale did.

“Well, I guess they like you,” he says and I look up to see him grinning at me. “I knew my animals had good taste.” I just laugh at his remark then have to look down as I hear an insistent meow at my feet as the cat rubs against me again.

“Who knew?” I tell him with a shrug as animals usually don’t seem to take to me so well. But for some reason, since they belong to him, I’m not completely surprised. Nothing has been the way I expected since he came to me on that beach. What’s one more thing?

“The dog’s, Killer. The cat’s Buddy,” he says as he watches me with a smile. “But don’t let ‘em fool ya. Buddy totally runs the house.”

I have to laugh again as the cat suddenly begins meowing at hearing his name. Junior just chuckles and leans over to scratch his head. The cat seems to fall over as he pets him and for the zillionth time today everything feels so surreal. If someone had told me I’d end up here watching Junior play with his pets I’d have told them they were insane. But strangely--at this moment--there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

“Aight,” he says as he finally stands. “Ready for the tour?”

“Sure, why not,” I reply as I adjust my bag on my shoulder.

“Ok, well, as promised…” he gestures with his hand behind him, “…washer and dryer.” Then he grins at me as I just shake my head.

“Imagine that. Junior, does his own laundry,” I tease him with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies as he picks up his bag again and heads for the door of the laundry room. Then he stops in the doorway and looks back over his shoulder saying, “So, you comin’ or what?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I tell him and follow him out the door and down the hall to the right, which opens to a small, modern-looking kitchen. I glance around, again surprised at the simplicity of it all, and suddenly remember the huge spacious kitchen in Florida I shared with Brooke. I force back a shudder as I remember that all the material things in the world couldn’t bring me happiness. Maybe Dale has it right after all?

“So…this is the kitchen,” he says with a wave of his hand as he continues the “tour.” “Kelley was here, so there’s probably food in the fridge,” he says with a grin and drops his bag on the floor by the small bar separating the kitchen from the dining area. Then he shrugs out of his brown leather jacket and tosses it on one of the kitchen chairs.

I follow his lead, dropping my bag and shrugging out of my own black leather jacket. Then I walk over to him and meet his eyes as I drape my jacket over the chair beside him, replying sarcastically, “Lucky for me, I’m sure.” But the instant I move closer to him, I can feel the heat between us again and I watch him run his tongue across his lips. As I pull away from my coat, I lightly trail my fingers across the back of his hand, that grips the top of the chair, and just as before, the touch is electric.

I see him part his lips at my “inadvertent” touch and I swear I can just feel his heart rate increase as his eyes seem to lock onto my lips. I deliberately moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue and then force myself to take a half a step back and ask, “So…do I get the rest of that tour?”

His eyes suddenly snap up to meet mine and I can see the longing swirling in those crystalline, blue depths. But it’s not time. Not yet. I’m not going to come in here and jump him immediately…no matter if we both want it or not. There’s plenty of time for that later…at least I hope there is.

“Ummm, yeah, sure,” he replies and I have to smile as he obviously pulls himself together. I take another step away from him as he pulls off his hat and lets it drop to the table beside him. Then he runs his fingers through his long curls--that I’m so happy he didn’t cut for the banquet--and looks up to me and nods. “Ok…umm, over here…” the trails off as he moves across the kitchen to the room off the dining room. He flips on the light and looks back to me. “This is the, uhhh, ‘playstation room.’”

I have to grin as, I swear, he seems just like a kid…and he’s fucking adorable. I have to push back thoughts of pinning him down on the couch as I nod to him, hoping he’ll continue. He hesitates for a moment so I finally reply, “So, I guess I’ll have to kick your butt later then, huh?”

That gets him. He immediately starts laughing and looks at me like I’m crazy. “You’ve gotta be crazy, Gordon.” I can’t help but smile back at him. “You don’t seriously think your gonna beat me, do ya?”

“Bring it on, Earnhardt,” I say as I step closer to him, locking my eyes with his. “I guarantee I’ve been playing games a lot longer than you have.”

“Hungry, Hungry Hippos doesn’t count, Jeff,” he replies with a smirk. I narrow my eyes, glaring at him as I see his sparkling with laughter, and instantly realize he’s only teasing me. But still…. I try to keep glaring at him. Try to come up with another snappy comeback. But I can’t. Instead, we both finally lose it and end up doubled over with laughter.

Once I can finally catch my breath I glance over to him and manage to say, “You played it too, didn’t you?”

He flashes me that blinding grin of his again and replies, “You kiddin’? I got it for Karsyn for Christmas.” Then he snorts and says, “Kelley’s gonna kill me.”

That gets us both dying with laughter again until we’re both gasping for breath. I put my hand against the wall and grin at him. “You know, she could always get you back and make her keep it here. Bet you’d love to listen to that noise.”

“Shut the hell up, Jeff!” he snaps back with a smile. “Don’t you dare bring that up to Kelley,” he scolds me and it actually comes as a surprise. Am I even going to be around long enough to see his sister? Does he even want me to be? I shake these thoughts off as we both finally compose ourselves again and he grins to me and says, “So, wanna see the rest?”

“Lead the way,” I reply simply and I smile as his eyes seem to linger on me a little longer than necessary before he turns to lead me down the hall.

I follow him as he stops to flip on another light and turns to me with a smirk, saying simply, “Computer room.” I look inside to see four desktop computers facing each other in a circle, obviously set up for online racing.

“Not bad,” I tell him, as I know these things have to be top of the line. Junior may be “simple” with some things, but he definitely spares no expense on his electronics, if these computers and the plasma TV in the other room are any indication. To be honest…it really looks like fun. Maybe we will get a chance to play….

“Thanks,” he replies as he shuts off the light and nods to the stairs behind us. “The…ahhh…bedrooms are upstairs…” he says and locks his eyes with mine. He chews his lip briefly and I can’t help but smile at him. I had no idea he’d be so--nervous? But before I have a chance to say a word he says hurriedly, “But I guess you might wanna see the bar first?”

“Sure, Dale,” I tell him as my smile grows. I swear, this is feeling more and more like a first date…and I kinda like it. The anticipation. The tension in the air. The teasing…and I can’t help but do it again. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

His head turns around quickly to meet my eyes and a slow grin crosses his face. “Coo’,” he says with a sultry smile. Then with a slightly heavier accented voice, “I kinda like the sound of tha’.”

“Good. ‘Cause so do I,” I reply easily, watching him closely as his eyes run over my body before he finally turns away and leads me back down the hall. Before I know it, I’m following him down a flight of stairs, into his basement, which is apparently a gameroom. He turns to me as he reaches the red felt pool table, putting his back to it and resting his hands on the edge behind him. He leans back slightly and gives me a grin.

“So…this is the pool room,” he says with a smirk and I can’t help but walk closer to him. It’s like I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to control my own actions. Once I finally do reach him, I stare into his eyes and lean forward, reaching my hand around him for the eight ball on the table. As my hand touches the smooth pool ball, I curl my fingers around it, even as I stare into his crystal blue eyes. We’re only inches apart now. Eyes so incredibly blue. And to be honest, I think he looks even better when he hasn’t shaved for two days.

“I see that,” I tell him in an almost whisper against his lips and the thought runs through my mind of leaning him over the pool table. Nails clawing at the red felt. Pale skin spread out underneath me. My name falling from his lips--

I pull away suddenly, tossing the ball up and catching it in my hand. “Guess we’ll have to play sometime,” and I can hear the huskiness in my voice I try to control. Get control of yourself, Gordon. We have plenty of time.

“Uhhh, yeah,” he replies, obviously as distracted as I am. “Hey, you wanna drink?” he asks as he pushes himself from the table and suddenly walks down a short hall. I follow him as he flips on the light to the adjoining room and walks over to a small bar.

I grip the pool ball tightly in my hand and move over to stand on the other side of the bar as he reaches into a cooler, pulling out a beer. He twists the lid immediately, dropping it on the smooth countertop and takes a long drink. “Yeah, ok. Whatcha got?” I ask him, still trying to control my raging hormones.

“Umm, beer…obviously,” he says, giving me a smirk as he turns to the shelves behind him. “No, Crown. Guess we’ll have to get you some. Jack, ok?” I can hear the tremor in his voice and it turns me on even more. Why am I stalling again?

I toss the ball again, catching it and reply, “That’s fine. Just put it on ice.” It’s not my drink of choice, but right now I don’t really care. Hell, I’d drink it straight from the bottle. I watch, turning the eight ball in my hand, as he grabs a glass and scoops some ice into it. Then he pours the whiskey, with a slightly shaking hand, before turning to me and setting it on the bar between us. I reach for it at the same time and shocks run through my arm as my fingers brush his and I take the glass. Our eyes lock again as he finally pulls away and I raise the glass to my lips, taking a long drink of the burning alcohol.

I force myself to set down the glass and fidget with the pool ball again. He takes another long drink of his beer and I try to slow things down by saying, “This is a really nice place, Dale.”

But instead of putting him at ease, my words seem to have the opposite effect as his eyes lock onto my lips. “‘m glad ya like it,” he says with that sweet southern drawl of his and I can’t keep my mouth shut.

“What’s not to like?” I reply instantly and have to reach for my drink again. I take another drink and then reach into my front pocket for my pack of cigarettes. I drop them on the bar in front of me and look to him again. Smoldering blue eyes. “Do you have an ashtray?”

He responds by downing his beer and setting the empty bottle in front of me. “Use that for now,” he replies as he turns to get another beer and I immediately pull a cigarette from the pack in front of me. I set the eight ball down on the smooth surface, having to hold it for a moment to keep it from rolling, and then reach into my other pocket for my silver zippo. I snap the lighter open and run my fingers over the striker, leaning forward slightly to light the smoke. Deeply draw off the burning cylinder and look up to meet blue eyes watching my every move.

I slowly exhale a stream of smoke and lick my lips, savoring the calming taste of nicotine. Then I watch, transfixed, as he reaches his hand--strong, beautiful fingers--out to me, and slowly takes the cigarette from my hand. I watch in awe as he brings it to his lips, taking a long, slow drag, sighing as he blows out the smoke. “Ya know, I quit about a year ago,” he says distractedly as he takes another pull from the cigarette before ashing it into the bottle and passing it back over to me.

I take the smoke from him, sliding my fingers over his and reply, “I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t--”

“It’s ok,” he cuts me off, taking a drink from his new beer. “We can quit together.”

I smile back at him, knocking back the rest of my drink. “That could work,” I reply slowly, running my tongue over my lips and tasting faint traces of whiskey. God, I want him so damn bad. I take one last drag off my cigarette and then drop it into the bottle, hearing the faint hiss as it extinguishes, and push myself away from the bar. Then I pick up my glass and walk slowly around to the counter behind him, setting it down by the half-full bottle of whiskey.

I can feel him behind me. Feel the heat of his body and I’m suddenly tired of playing around. He wants me. I can feel it, and God knows I want him. I’d like to take things slower, be sure…. But right now I just can’t. Right now my entire body is craving his touch. Right now I just want to turn and shove him over the bar and screw his brains out. But I’m stronger than this. I know I am, and I slowly pick up the bottle and fill my glass again. I manage to only spill a small amount of the whiskey and pick up the glass, turning around to face him again.

Blue eyes watching my every move.

Swallow heavily and take a sip of my new drink, then move to stand beside him, setting the glass in front of me. I feel my right arm brush against his and I swear I see his hand tremble as he grips the brown bottle tighter. And it hits me. He’s nervous. Hasn’t smoked in a year. He’s scared. I know this is all new to him. I can’t just pound him into next week. I need to slow down. I need to play this right….

I lightly run the back of my fingers against his hand and see him initially grip the bottle tighter before slowly relaxing his hand. “Thanks for bringing me here, Dale,” I tell him softly, but I can still feel the tension coming off him in waves as he stares straight ahead. I sigh softly and finally admit, “I really didn’t want to be alone.”

I can feel him relax slightly at my admission and he takes another drink of his beer. Then he sits down the bottle and turns slowly to me. “You don’t have to be alone.” And I feel the sincerity of his words. I know he’s nervous. I felt his panic, but he still wants me here. He still wants to be with me and the thought makes me feel like my heart’s in a vice. What the hell could I have ever to deserve someone like him caring about me?

“I know,” I tell him, even as I see a surprisingly protective look on his face. Then I slowly move my hand, brushing against his again, and thread my fingers through his. “And we don’t have to…. I’ll be here as long as you want me to be, Dale.”

I see him look down at our intertwined fingers on the marble countertop and watch him lick his lips nervously. “I want you here, Jeff,” he says softly and I know he’s telling me the truth. Just as I know I can’t take things so fast. Not like before. Before, we both got carried away in the emotion, the heat, and the dreamlike quality of the moonlit beach. Now we’re “home.” His home. And this is real. Not some otherworldly fantasy an ocean away. Tonight can’t be blamed on the scenery or the alcohol or a unique situation. This is for real. And I’ll be damned if I blow it.

So where do I go from here?

I lightly run my thumb against the side of his hand and study his profile. The long curls brushing against his temple. His piercing eyes. Firm lips, I luckily know from experience. Strong chin and angled jaw. I let my eyes trail down his neck and see the still prominent scar from when he drove that fucking ‘Vette and feel the familiar tightness in my chest when I think about how close we came to losing him.

And I want to touch him. Reassure myself again that he’s here, that this is all real, that I’m not in a dream world. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling and why he really brought me here. But I can’t bring myself to ask him all these questions. Instead, I can only ask….

“Dale, is it ok…” and I watch as he finally looks up from our interlocked fingers to meet my gaze. My eyes are instantly drawn to his lips as I continue, “…if I….”

“Yeah,” he breathes and slowly leans towards me.

I meet him halfway, gently touching his lips to mine and I feel the same electric spark run through me at the slight touch. And I hold back, lightly caressing his lips with my own. Firm and soft, I move my mouth against his, asking instead of demanding, giving instead of taking. And it’s amazing, even this barest of touches makes me feel more than I can ever remember. I squeeze his hand tighter in my own as I finally let my tongue slip between my lips to trace his, teasing, tasting, touching.

He leans into me more and I pull our interlocked hands between us, resting his hand for the moment against my heart, as I turn to face him completely. I press against him a little more and gasp slightly as he finally parts his lips to mine. Slowly I slip my tongue past his lips, tenderly touching, stroking my tongue against his in a gentle caress. I can taste the beer on his lips and the slight tang of nicotine and I’m lost in him completely.

I’m falling, totally and completely and I know this is all happening too fast. I know I’m still hurting--haven’t even begun to heal--but when I’m with him, none of it seems to matter. He fills all of my senses, blocking out everything and everyone else and I know I could just lose myself to him in a way I never have. It’s overwhelming, and a little terrifying, but I just can’t seem to care.

I slide our hands between us, across my chest and down to our sides, still unable to let him go. Then I press myself against him, deepening the kiss and I can hear a soft moan as his tongue tangles with mine. I lightly trail my left hand up his arm and I feel him tremble at my touch. Finally I pull back slightly and kiss down the line of his jaw feeling the light stubble beneath my lips. Then I move down to his neck, lightly sucking at his skin and I feel him begin to tremble again, even more this time, and I stop, burying my face him his neck for a moment. I breathe in deeply, smelling the faint scent of his cologne and try to control myself as I feel him shaking slightly against me.

I let go of his hand and slide my arms around his waist. Then I run one hand soothingly up his back to his neck and pull his head down to rest on my shoulder as I lightly thread my fingers through his hair. I feel his arms wrap around me, as he nuzzles my neck, as well as the longing and confusion overwhelming him.

“Jeff…I, I’m sorry…I want….”

“Shhhhh,” I tell him softly, even as I try desperately to hold back my own desire. “It’s ok, Dale,” I murmur against his skin. Then I stroke his hair, trying to calm his nerves and fears. I’m not going to push him. “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him softly even as I feel him pull back slightly, looking down to meet my eyes.

I see the confusion and desire swirling in his eyes as he sucks in his bottom lip and I can’t help but reach out to caress the side of his face. Running my fingers over his temple, down his cheek, and across his jaw before finally pulling away. His eyes follow my every move and I sigh softly, telling him, “Hey, why don’t you show me to my room. I think I’ve had enough to drink.”

He watches me another moment and finally nods. “Yeah, ok. I can do that,” he says and starts to pull away. But then he stops, looking down at me again. Suddenly he surprises me, by pressing his lips to mine again, and I feel his hand at the side of my face, thumb running across my cheek as he kisses me. But then he pulls away, just as unexpectedly, and I can only look at him in wonder.

“I do want you here, Jeff,” he tells me softly and I see the turmoil in his eyes seems to be replaced by conviction at his words.

“I know,” I tell him with a smile as he finally pulls out of my arms and takes a step back. Then I watch as one of his hands finds the half-empty bottle of beer and I follow him around the small bar, pausing only to grab my cigarettes and lighter. We move quickly though the bar and gameroom, with him flipping off the lights as we go, until we finally end up back in the kitchen.

He turns to me then and motions to my bag on the floor. “If you wanna grab your stuff, I’ll…ahhh…show you to your room,” he says as he drops his head forward slightly and gives me a shy smile. Then he finishes off his beer and walks over to the refrigerator, pulling a fresh bottle from the door. I nod to him and walk across the room, slinging the bag over my shoulder as he moves over to pick up his own. Then I turn to follow him up the stairs.

We walk across the landing, passing an open bathroom along the way, and finally reach a closed door. He pauses to open it and turns to me saying, “You can put your stuff in ‘ere, if you want.” He watches me closely as I thank him and start to move past him into the room. But instead of moving out of the way, he turns sideways, forcing me to slide past him to get by. I start to do just that when his arm suddenly blocks me and he rests his hand on the other side of the doorway.

I look up to him suddenly at his actions and see a determined look on his face. But his eyes still give him away. He’s not as confident as he wants me to believe, but I don’t call him on it. I just look to him and wait to see what he has to say.

“If you wanna see my room…,” he trails off.

“It’s ok,” I reply to him with a smile, once again trying to give him an out. “You can always show me later.” Then I start once again to make my way into the room, but he still doesn’t move. I look to him again to see him biting the corner of his bottom lip.

“No, really. Jeff…” he says and I see the determination is back, even stronger than before. He licks his lips quickly and shifts his weight between his feet, but still he refuses to back down. “I’d like to finish givin’ you the tour.”

I realize that right now he’s not going to back down, and I’m not going to get into an argument with him over this. He can always change him mind later…but, God, I hope he doesn’t. Not when his deep, blue eyes are boring into me like that. I try to shake off the warmth spreading through me again at his nearness and tell him easily, “Alright, Dale. I’ll be there in a minute, ok?”

He runs his tongue across his lips again and finally nods to me, dropping his arm and letting me step into the bedroom. I look back, as I move into the room, dropping my bag on the bed, and see him standing awkwardly at the door as if I’m going to disappear if I’m out of his sight. I give him a reassuring grin and tell him, “Just give me a minute. I’ll find you.” He watches me for another moment and I assure him again, “I’m not going anywhere, Dale.”

I watch as he seems to shake himself out of whatever he was thinking and take a long drink off his beer. “Aight, then,” he replies to me. “It’s at the end of the hall,” and with that he turns and moves out of sight and I immediately collapse back on the bed.

I sigh deeply, lifting my arms and crossing my forearms over my eyes. He wants me to follow him, I know he does. But does he understand I’ll still stay even if nothing else happens tonight? I like being with him, more than I ever imagined, and I don’t want to push him too far too fast…but the thought of touching him again.

“Shit,” I whisper as I can feel my body responding to my thoughts. This is Dale, Jeff, I tell myself. Dale Jr, for God’s sake. If his Dad were still here I know I’d be skinned alive for even thinking about touching him. Should I really be thinking about getting involved with him…with another driver? That worked out so well for me before. What happens when we go back to the track? Will he still want me to stay? And what if he finds out….

Enough.

I sit up suddenly and force myself to take a deep breath, pushing any and all thoughts about him out of my mind. This has nothing to do with him. This is about me and that sweet boy down the hall. He wants me, that much is obvious, and I can’t keep him waiting forever. And I want him, because he makes me feel….

I shake my head and lean over, pulling off my shoes and letting them fall to the floor. Then I swallow hard and push myself off the bed. I turn to my bag, thinking about grabbing the provisions we might need, but I stop myself. I can always come back. I’m not going to go in there expecting anything. I’m just going to see his room…and if anything else happens…it’s because he asks for it. I’m not going to push him.

I stand up straighter, finally convinced that I have myself under control, and step out of the room, turning to the left and walking down the short hall. I can do this, I tell myself. I can control myself. Really I can. I stop right at his door and take one more deep breath before taking a step inside and knocking on the door.

He jumps at the noise and I see he was pacing in the small sitting area adjoining his bedroom. Crap. He’s that nervous? So why was he so determined for me to come here? “Hey,” I tell him as he takes a sip from the bottle in his hand. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“S’aight,” he says shaking his head. “I just wasn’t payin’ ‘tention,” his accent, thicker than usual. He runs his fingers through his long hair with his free hand and finally says, “C’mon on in.”

I start to protest at his obvious agitation, but stubborn as I know he is, he’d probably just get mad. So I walk in as he finally drains the rest of his beer and sits it on the small table between the two lounge chairs in the sitting area. That’s when I notice all the tension from earlier is back as he can hardly meet my eyes. I try to decide what to do next when I realize I’ve already pulled out a cigarette, bringing to my lips and reaching for my lighter in one practiced motion.

He looks over at me as I light the cigarette and inhale the burning smoke, eyes following my hands as I pull it from my lips. Then he moves toward me and reaches out, taking the cigarette from my fingers before finally, briefly, flicking his eyes to meet mine. I watch, transfixed, as he takes a deep drag, lips curling around the cigarette and I have to force myself to look away. I glance around the room for something to distract myself and then move over to one of the chairs in the sitting area, dropping down in the one on my left. Then I reach into my pocket for another cigarette as Dale seems to be making no move to return the other. I light it and glance around again, and finally try to cut the tension with words.

“So, who helped you decorate this place anyway? I know your tastes can’t be this good,” I say with a smirk.

I watched, relieved, as he returns my smile and walks over to the other chair beside me. He pauses to flick his ashes in the empty Bud Light bottle between us and sits down, putting his feet up on the ottoman in front of him and finally replying, “Naw, Kelley did it. She asked me things ‘ere and there, but she really did it.” He looks straight ahead then and seems to relax slightly. Then he takes another long drag off the cigarette and sighs as he exhales, closing his eyes saying, “Damn, this is so good.” He slowly opens his eyes as he rests his head against the back of the chair and turns to me. “I missed this,” he tells me with a grin as he motions with the cigarette in his left hand.

“So let’s see, I’ve been here a little over an hour and I’ve already driven you to drinking and smoking,” I tease as I return his grin. “Good thing no one else is a around to see what a bad influence I am.”

He laughs at my comment and then turns sideways in the chair to look at me. “Yeah, who woulda thought? The devil drives the 24,” he says with grin as his eyes sparkle with mischief.

It’s my turn to laugh at him as I shoot back, “Jeez, Dale. All you had to do was ask your fans to find that out.” I reach forward to ash into the bottle just as he moves to drop his cigarette butt inside. “I’m sure you could find plenty of them to tell you just how evil I am.” He grins at me again and surprises me by deliberately sliding the back of his hand against my own. I feel the electric shock immediately at his slight touch, but I do nothing but smile and bring the smoke to my lips again.

He looks at me for a moment and I have to catch my breath at the smoldering look in his eyes. I force myself to take a calming drag off my cigarette as he finally looks down and drops his eyes, saying in a low voice, “Guess it’s a good thing no one saw yur evil, corrupting ways the oth’r night, then.”

His words surprise me and I study him closely, trying to pick apart his words. What is he saying, exactly? Is he still teasing…or is he as scared to be seen with me as…. No. I’m not going to go there. And suddenly all thoughts about anyone or anything but Dale flee my mind, pushed away completely, as he finally lifts his gorgeous blue eyes to meet mine.

He wants me.

It’s all there in his eyes. I reach forward, never breaking eye contact with him and hear a hiss as I drop my cigarette in the beer bottle. Then I feel him thread his fingers through mine and I lightly squeeze his hand. “There’s no one here to see us, Dale,” I say in a low voice and lean a little closer to him.

“Corrupt me.”

The sultry words send heat running straight through me and I study his eyes to be sure. Sure that he means it. I start to ask, but as I feel his thumb running across my skin I realize he doesn’t want words. He doesn’t want to think about it.

And neither do I.

“All you had to do was ask,” I whisper against his lips as we both lean forward, mouths meeting in a hungry kiss. I feel his free hand, cradling the side of my face and then sliding around to run through my hair. I hear a low moan and it takes me a moment to even realize the desire-filled noise as my own. I want him. I need him. And as I feel his tongue moving seductively against mine, I know he wants me too.

I move forward, crawling out of the chair and sliding over to him even as his hands pull me closer. Before I know it I’m straddling the small ottoman in front of him as my hands find the arms of the chair he’s sitting in. Finally I break the kiss to run my lips across his skin--tasting--across his jawline--touching--down his neck. His voice in my ear, rough and hoarse all at the same time.

“Jeff….”

My name on his lips. My name. He knows who he’s with, and he still wants this. Hands running over my chest and there is nothing, nothing but him.

“Jeff…. Please….”

Hands running up my arms. I hear the desire in his voice. He wants to be lost.

And so do I.

But more than that…I want to feel that same connection again. I have to know if it’s still there. I pull back a little, just enough to look at him as he slowly opens his eyes to meet mine. I watch him run his tongue over his sexy, fucking lips….

And it’s there.

My God.

It’s still there.

“Dale,” I whisper his name and see his eyes widen slightly. Crystal blue I know I could be completely lost in…for a long time…if not forever.

“Yeah,” he says quietly and, as it has all night, his accent makes me melt…as well as drive me even more out of control. My hands suddenly find the bottom of his sweatshirt, pushing it up, revealing pale skin and hard muscles. I have to feel him again. Run my hands over his skin, feeling his muscles contract and release at my touch. And I watch him. Watch him tremble even as his eyes follow my every move. I hear him gasp as my fingers trace along his waist, curling around the edge of his jeans, and he makes no move to stop me.

I lean forward, capturing his lips with my own, and feel his strong hands running over my back, pulling me even closer. Hands sliding under the back of my shirt as I slowly work the button of his jeans, tugging down the zipper. Break the kiss, taste the skin of his neck, and smile against him as he moans underneath me again.

Again I pull back and look down on him, spread out in the chair under me and I feel myself tremble at the intensity of his crystalline-blue eyes. I push up his sweatshirt again, tugging it up and he instantly helps me pull it over his head and toss it to the side. Immediately I run my hands over the newly revealed flesh, memorizing every detail, every single thing about him, soaking up all I can get. The firm harness of his muscles, the texture of his pale skin, and the soft blond hair under my fingers. The way he sighs and trembles at my touch. I burn it all into my memory. Learning him. Studying him.

Memorizing him.

All under his watchful gaze.

I slide my hands down, lower, lower still, and he shifts his hips up, letting me tug down his jeans and boxers. And I finally see him, hard and ready for me, twitching under the intensity of my stare. Trail my fingers across the straining flesh and he moans again, breathing harder and I can’t tear my eyes away from his parted lips. And I’m panting, the same as him, as I curl my fingers around his length. Slowly stroking him as his body shudders from desire…and I know I’m the cause. The thought drives me even wilder and I feel the zipper of my jeans biting painfully into my flesh, but I don’t care. This is about him.

All about him.

I worship him with my eyes, taking in the faint sheen of sweat that covers his skin, and I lean over, trailing my tongue down the center of his chest. Taste the salt of his skin as he groans again and briefly closes his eyes.

“God, Jeff….”

His voice sends chills running through me and I struggle to control my own desire, but I can’t hold back anymore. I have to taste him.

“Dale,” I whisper his name again as I kiss further down his body, swirling my tongue around his navel. Lower. And I swear I can feel the goosebumps on his skin. Lower. And I’m running my tongue over his hard length, feeling him jerk and tremble beneath me. He gasps and I see him grip the arms of the chair tightly as I trace my tongue around the tip of his throbbing erection, and then take him between my lips sucking lightly.

“Holy fuck,” I hear him moan and it’s all I can do to keep control.

Slowly I take him in, sliding my tongue down his flesh until he’s completely inside me, and moan around his quivering flesh. Then I feel a hand at the side of my face, fingers running across my skin, and I look up to see twin pools of blue staring down at me. I reach up with one hand, and his instantly meets me halfway, interlocking his fingers with mine as I begin to pull back and then take him in again. I suck him slowly, tracing my tongue over him as his body begins to tremble, but still he doesn’t look away from me.

Slowly. Agonizingly, I increase my pace and I see his breathing quicken and become shallower at my actions. His entire body is shaking beneath me now and I can begin to taste him on my tongue. I moan again as his essence assaults my senses and I begin to suck harder, run my tongue over him faster, even as I feel him gripping my hand tighter. I squeeze his hand back, as his other grips the arm of the chair with white knuckles, and still he won’t break my gaze.

His eyes widen slightly as his breathing becomes more labored and I feel him jerk beneath me. I reach up with my free hand and cover his with my own and I swear I’ve never seen anything sexier than him shuddering beneath me in my life. Nothing in the world compares to his eyes.

“Jeff!” he cries out my name as he bucks violently under me and the taste of him overloads my senses. So rich. So perfect, I think as I continue to swallow around him, drawing out his pleasure and increasing my own desire. He shudders beneath me again, finally closing his eyes as he moans long and low.

And he’s a beautiful sight.

Finally I pull back, letting him slowly slip from my lips and elicit another groan as I run my tongue over him again. He’s still breathing hard as he finally opens his eyes and pulls his hand from under mine. Then he reaches down and trails his fingertips along the side of my face…and I’ve never felt so much.

I squeeze his other hand in my own and he tugs me forward, bringing me closer. I see so much in his eyes in that moment--words unspoken--as they swirl with emotion. And I want to say something, but I don’t know what, even as he tries to find words of his own.

But he can’t find words any better than I can. Everything with him is so completely different. So amazing. So special. Part of me wants to tell him, make him understand. And the other half of me is terrified. Terrified because I know that this time the stakes are higher and I’m setting myself up for a fall bigger than I’ve ever known. And it scares me. It scares me because I know Dale will open himself up to me, if only through his beautiful blue eyes, in a way no one else ever did. And I want him to know I want it…that I want him.

But I’m too afraid to say the words.

“Jeff…” he trails off and I feel him squeeze my hand again. I look deeply into his eyes and I see that he still can’t find words. But it doesn’t matter. Not when he’s looking at me like that.

“Yes, Dale,” I murmur against his lips as he pulls me towards him. I lean over him, kissing him deeply and feel him moan under me again. Then he finally pulls his hand from mine and moves it to my shirt, fumbling with the buttons, and running his hands across my chest. After only a few moments I feel him pushing my shirt apart and gasp as his strong hands run up my sides, caressing my bare skin. And I know I can’t take much more.

I pull away from him, trying to catch my breath and regain control. I still don’t want to push him too much but, I swear, my body is on fire at his touch. I close my eyes, taking a few shaky deep breaths and finally find words. “Dale, we don’t have to….”

A hand on the side of my neck, thumb caressing my jaw. Slowly I open my eyes to find his boring into me. I see him lick his lips as his eyes seem to darken even more.

“I told you before, Jeff…just let go,” he tells me and I can’t control the shaking his words cause. He moistens his lips again and slides one hand down my side, letting it come to rest just above my hip, fingers curling around my side. I tremble again at his touch as he catches my eyes again with his own and sends me over the edge with just a few words. “I wanna feel you inside me again.”

All of my control snaps in that instant and I lunge forward, taking his face in my hands and attack his lips with my own. I drape myself over him, thrusting against him, and run my hands roughly over his bare chest. He moans into my mouth as I slide my hands further down and take both of his hands in mine. Then I pull away, moving uneasily to my feet, and tug at his hands, pulling him up with me.

“God, Jeff. Please…” he groans deeply against me and moves to take me in his arms. But I step backwards, tugging at his hands again.

“Come with me,” I tell him, eyes glazed with longing and desire.

“Anywhere,” he replies, kicking off his jeans. I pull him with me, out of his room and down the short hall to the other bedroom. I grab him instantly, pressing him first against the wall, attacking his neck, licking and sucking at his skin, as I feel him roughly jerk at my jeans. He shoves them down as I shrug out of my shirt, letting it fall to the floor behind me.

I pull him backwards with me, stepping out of my jeans, and stumble with him to the bed. He’s pressing against me--skin so hot against mine--and I reach blindly for my bag, shoving my hand inside and rummaging through it. Finally I feel my fingers come into contact with a small tube and I take it in my hand and knock the bag to the floor. I hear him make a sound like a growl as he hears the crash and he crushes me to him, kissing my neck as his fingers thread through my hair.

“I want you, Dale,” I tell him in a low, husky voice, right in his ear. “I need to feel you again.” I hear him moan as I turn him towards the bed, causing the back of his knees to hit the bed.

“Yes, Jeff,” he breathes as he sits back on the bed, pulling me down with him. I crawl over him, causing him to lean back slowly, and have to catch my breath as he tells me boldly, “I wanna feel you inside.”

And I can’t wait anymore. I slide my hand down, pushing his thighs apart as I flip open the tube of cool, slippery lube with the other. I trace my fingers over his already hardening length and feel him tremble. Then I pull back, coating my fingers with the slick substance and trace down his flesh again.

“Shit, no more,” he cries out, throwing his head back. He turns his head to me, eyes wild with lust. “Fuck me, Jeff. Now…please!”

He starts to reach for me, but I take that moment to finally thrust two fingers deeply inside him. “Oh God, yes,” he cries, throwing his head back again. I watch him, panting heavily, as he grips and twists the comforter in his hands, writhing on the bed. I thrust my fingers into him again, stretching, stroking and I can’t wait anymore.

I pull my hand away and slide down to the end of the bed. He’s shaking and breathless as he tosses his head from side to side and I grab him by the back of his knees, trying to pull him down to me. Immediately he scoots to the end of the bed and looks up to me, sweat running down the side of his face and I have to have him now.

I run my slick hand over my aching cock and spread his thighs some more. Then I push my hips forward, sliding into tight molten heat and it’s my turn to cry out. I close my eyes, losing myself to the feel of him, drowning in him as the rest of the world falls away…just like before. I pull back slowly and thrust in to him again, still trying to hold back, still waiting for--

“Jeff,” he calls my name and I open my eyes, instantly feeling the familiar pull as his gaze locks with mine. “Please,” he tells me and then says in a whisper I barely hear, “Give me the storm,” and I’m not even completely sure what he means.

But I know what he wants.

I don’t hold back. I let myself go, thrusting into to him deeply, as I watch the desire grow in his eyes. My body is shaking as I grit my teeth and I slide my hands from his hips, up his thighs, squeezing them tightly. He’s spread out beneath me, pushing to meet my thrusts and I can’t get enough of him. His touch, his body, his eyes…

And I want to make him scream my name again.

I slide one hand down his thigh, encircling his length with my hand, and stroke him in time with my thrusts, building the raging inferno between us. And then he surprises me, reaching for me, and I lean over him, putting my weight on one shaky arm. He gasps as I push into him at a different angle and I feel his hands on my arms, running up my skin and then across my chest. His strong hands finally find my hips and I see a frown mar his face as I continue to stroke him between our sweat soaked bodies, wanting--needing--to see him come again.

“Let go Dale,” I beg him. “Come for me.” And I feel him begin to tremble, see him start to lose it even as I know I’ve lost myself. Then it happens. He’s screaming my name again and I’ve never seen anything so erotic as, just as before, he doesn’t close his eyes, doesn’t look away. And I feel it, his pleasure, his desire, wash over me, consuming me whole, filling me in a way I’ve never known and it’s only moments before I’m the one screaming and shaking with release.

“Yes, Dale…God, yes,” I cry out in a voice I don’t even recognize as shudders overtake me and there is nothing but him. I don’t think I’ve ever bared myself this way to anyone as he watches me, lips parted, eyes looking straight inside me. He sees me. In a way no one ever has, he sees me and it’s too intense. Too fucking much. I scream again as I finally collapse on top of him and feel his arms slide around me.

I bury my face in his neck, feeling the heat of his skin, as his strong hands run over my back. I need to pull myself together…but everything with him is just so intense. I can’t believe he makes me completely lose control. Even with…even with anyone else, I’ve never lost myself so completely. I’m in too deep already. I know that. But I just can’t seem to help it.

Finally I shift against him, pulling away slightly and laying down beside him, still unable for the moment to meet the intensity of his eyes. So I nuzzle his neck again, caressing his faint scar with my cheek, my lips, letting myself be lost in him. Fingers, running through my hair and down my arms, wrapping around me, holding me tightly and I swear there is nothing else but him.

“Yur fuckin’ amazing,” he says to me softly as he continues to stroke my hair. Then he pulls me to his chest and for the first time I can ever remember I feel like someone’s taking care of me. I know it’s not true. I have to remind myself, this could be nothing but sex…but I know it isn’t. Still, I let myself believe in the dream for a moment. Let him hold me as our breathing slows and the passion cools between us.

I pull back from him just a fraction and look up to him to see a sleepy, satisfied grin on his face. That’s when his words from earlier finally hit me…and I want to know what they meant. I reach up and pull down a pillow as he shifts up on the bed and I scoot up as well, pulling him into my arms this time…a position I’m actually a little more comfortable with. I’m used to being in control…or at least, I liked to think I am. He snuggles against me and I ask him softly, “What did you mean about ‘the storm?’”

He stiffens slightly and for a moment I wonder if I should have just stayed quiet. Since whatever this was began, neither of us has been much for words. But then I feel him relax as he shifts again and rests his head on the pillow beside me, meeting my eyes and obviously searching for words.

“Dunno, really,” he mumbles and briefly looks down. “With you…it’s like…” and he trails off still not meeting my eyes. Then he finally does look at me and I feel it again…this “connection” or whatever it is. It just is, and I can’t even begin to understand. But then he glances away again and continues; “It’s like yur somethin’…uncontrollable. Like the ocean…or a…storm.”

He looks back to me with the last word and I don’t have a clue what to say. What does he mean? Could he even begin to know how completely out of control my life always feels? It has to be the same for him…being an Earnhardt. But he could he really understand?

I reach up and take one of his long curls between my fingers and then trace my hand down the side of his face. “You know…I really don’t feel so…out of control right now.”

“Good,” he whispers as he touches his lips softly to mine and I realize I really meant what I said. Just like before, lying here, next to him, I feel so…content. Like nothing else matters for the moment and the world all goes away. I sigh softly as he touches his forehead to mine and close my eyes. If this could just last….

Suddenly I feel him pulling away and I feel familiar loneliness--abandonment--creep inside and I start to wrap my arms around myself. I glance over to see him running his fingers through his hair, smoothing it back, and I press my eyes closed again. Of course he’ll leave. He’ll leave and wipe away all traces of me he can. Pretend this never happened. He always--

“You comin’?” I hear and open my eyes to see him standing to the side of the bed, reaching out a hand to me. He’s not leaving me. He’s inviting me to his room…to his bed. I look at him in surprise for a moment, but mask it as fast as I can.

“Sure,” I tell him as nonchalantly as possible and take his hand, sliding across the bed. As we have so many times tonight we interlock our fingers and I realize I never knew how much I would like just…holding hands. He leads me to the bedroom door and I pause only to snatch my jeans off the floor. Then we walk down the hall and once more enter his room.

He gives me a sly smile as he pulls me over to his unmade bed and jerks back the covers. Then he sits down and slides across the bed, tugging on my hand. I toss my jeans on the floor and follow his lead, sliding under the sheets and into his waiting arms. He runs his thumb over the back of my hand before finally letting it go and turning to shut of the lamp by his bed, finally plunging us into darkness.

That’s when I move to pull him against my chest and I can feel the stubble on his cheek as he rubs his face against my skin. I sigh, contented for once, and run my fingers through his long hair. He’s not going anywhere tonight.

And neither am I.

~~Fin~~

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Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com