Atlanta Heat

Home : Stories by Catw00man : The Adventures of Havoc and Wonderboy : Atlanta Heat

Summary: What happens when Jeff offers to give Kevin and DeLana a lift on his jet?

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: NC-17
SERIES: The Adventures of Havoc and Wonderboy
CHARACTER: Jeff Gordon/Kevin Harvick, alternating POVs
COMPLETED: June 5, 2005
WORD COUNT: 13,406
CATEGORY: Angst, smut
DEDICATION: This one has to go out to Carrie who seriously helped me out with the idea for this entire series, including some specific parts of this fic. Thanks so much for your encouragement hon. I’m just glad you like it! Also to Pam who gave me what I think is one of the best lines in the fic. Thanks, Babe! And again to Lisa who helped me out with another wonderful beta!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This takes place the week following the Vegas Payback after Jeff threw Kevin out of his coach and really isn’t going to make much sense without reading the other fics in the series. They can be found here. Enjoy, and I can’t wait to hear what y’all think about this one!
AUTHOR'S NOTE2: ***** denotes POV shift. ~*~*~*~ denotes passage of time
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Atlanta Motor Speedway: March 20, 2005 - Prerace

I lean against my car waiting for the endless pre-race bullshit to be over so we can finally get to racing. I cross my arms, thankful that even D is leaving me alone today, but honestly it’s really not much of a surprise. I know I’ve been a moody bastard all week. I just can’t help it. The car’s been shit all weekend, but maybe that’s because I don’t have a fucking crew chief!

Stupid, fucking NASCAR. A four-race suspension. Are they fucking insane? Todd gets a four-race suspension for something that didn’t even affect the damn race while Chad ends up penalized for two weeks for his car being too low in the damn race. Typical. But hell, you wouldn’t even know they were penalized, I think, as I see Chad himself hurrying down pit road to his lanky little golden boy. I glare at him, even though I know he doesn’t even see me, and curse my own rotten luck.

I know what’s going to happen. I have no doubt, I think, as I turn my head to look up pit road and see them smiling and laughing by his car. Stupid bastard. I should have known Wonderboy would find a way to cheat the system. I know what happened. He probably just strolled in with his pretty boy in tow, telling NASCAR how they weren’t being fair. And what happens? Chad’s here while they appeal, and we all know how that’s gonna turn out. Gordon will get his way, and Jimmieboy will get a slap on the wrist, while I suffer a month without Todd.

Yeah, that’s fair.

I can’t help but glare as I watch them together even though I know it’s all an act. I feel a small smile tug at my lips as I know he’ll be getting no satisfaction today, but my smile fades as I know I’m no different. Hell, Junior barely even makes time to talk to me anymore. No, he’s all wrapped up in his Busch team. Stupid jerk.

I watch them for another moment before I can’t stand to see them gushing over each other for another second and turn to face my pit box. My empty, fucking pit box. When the hell are they gonna start this damn race anyway? Maybe if I can just get in the car…it won’t make a bit of difference. I can just feel it. Today is gonna suck and there’s nothing I can do about it. Stupid, fucking NASCAR. I sigh, trying to be patient, when I suddenly hear a voice at my side.

“Hey, Kevin…”

I turn in surprise to see Gordon standing beside me like he’s supposed to be here. Why the hell is he here? “What the fuck do you want, Gordon?” I growl at him, completely unable to keep the animosity out of my voice.

I watch as his mouth opens as if he’s going to say something and then closes it with a snap. I see his face become hard and then finally he decides to speak. “From you? Nothing. I just wanted to tell you to stay the hell away from my cars, Havoc. Figured with you running without a crew chief you might be wanting to take it out on the rest of us.”

I glare at him from behind my dark glasses and grit my teeth as he matches my dark look with one of his own. How dare he think he can come and talk to me? Stupid asshole. “Fuck off, Jeff.”

He stands there for only a moment and then sneers at me and says under his breath for my ears alone, “You only wish, Kevin.” Then he turns away suddenly and makes his way back to his car.

I watch him as he walks away, I swear, acting like he owns the place. Stupid holier-than-thou prick. Why would he come over here anyway, I think, as I turn to rest my forearms on the roof of my car. Does he really think I need to hear his stupid little threats that…honestly don’t even make much sense. I turn my head again to see him reach his car, obviously pissed off.

Why did he come over here anyway? He’s never bothered to waste his breath on me before, and he knows I’m not stupid enough to go after him on the track…at least he should. That’s when I finally realize what he called me when he came over.

Kevin.

Not Harvick. Not Happy. Not even Havoc. He called me Kevin, something he’s only done when we…. I shake my head and push these stupid thoughts out of my head. So what if he actually called me by my name? He’s still a bastard. But I can’t help but wonder what he might have said if I hadn’t snapped at him like I did.

I glance up pit road once more as I move to meet my team and pose for the national anthem. What the hell’s going on with him anyway?

*****

Fucking asshole. What the hell was I thinking going to talk to fucking Havoc? Did I really think he’d give a shit about anything I had to say? I shake my head as I reach my car and then move to take my place for the rest of the pre-race festivities. To think I was actually feeling bad about the way things ended up last weekend. But honestly….

Why should I even care?

I shouldn’t, I tell myself for what is probably the dozenth time today. We were just fucking around, right? So I shouldn’t feel bad that he’s obviously still pissed…still hurting?

It doesn’t matter, I think, as I grit my teeth. Kevin is nothing to me. He was just a fun distraction for a couple of weeks. Nothing more. So why does the miserable look I saw on his face as I walked up to him still run through my head? I consider looking back to see if he’s still fuming but I force my eyes to stay straight ahead. It doesn’t matter I remind myself again.

He doesn’t matter.

~*~*~*~

Un-fucking-believable.

A wreck on lap 1. I haven’t had such a fun time since that first race at Texas. There’s just nothing like riding around all day when your car’s nothing but shit. I sigh as I watch the guys preparing to load up the beaten and battered, brightly colored piece of sheet metal that used to be my race car and thank God Robbie finally called me in. If I had been forced to run another lap, crawling around the track, I’d have been ready to slam it into the wall just to put me out of my misery.

I’ll never understand why they force us to stay out there like that when we’re driving garbage. I’d sooner let anyone else drive my car around instead of crawling back into a mangled piece of crap to limp around for the rest of the day. At least Ray would offer to find someone to finish the race for me…not that I ever took him up on it. But the offer was still nice.

I shake my head as they finally begin to push the car onto the lift, still completely ignoring me. I’ll give my team this--they do know me well. It’s rare that I ever really get pissed enough for a public display…but still, my team knows enough to stay away from me. Times like this I don’t want to talk, don’t want to be consoled…I just want to be left alone so I can be pissed, wallow in my misfortune, and get over it. At least…that’s what I have to do now.

There was a time, however, when I wouldn’t have to be alone. There was a time, not too long ago in fact, that I could go back and wait in my coach knowing I wouldn’t be alone for long. Knowing that as soon as the race was over I’d have someone there willing and ready to let me take my frustrations out on them.

Fucking Jimmie.

I turn sharply from my hauler and rapidly emptying garage stall to head back to my coach. I just need to get out of here. I need to get out of here as soon as possible. I glance up at the scoring pylon as I move through the virtually empty garage and see that Jimmie’s still leading. Good for him. Wonder if he’ll even care that I don’t plan on being here even if he wins?

Probably not, I think as I finally reach my coach and step inside. And even if he does…should I really care? Stupid Jimmie and his hideous little stick-figure wife. They can just enjoy themselves all they want because I don’t care, and I slam the door behind me. But then I sigh deeply as I realize I’m feeding myself lies. The truth is, I do care--too much, really. But there’s nothing I can do about it so I might as well just get out of here.

I walk quickly to pick up my cell phone on the table across the room and flip it open, calling for an early pick-up to take me to the helicopter. I’m not waiting for Jimmie today, and he’s just going to have to deal with it. I cut the phone off and then quickly dial another number from memory, letting my pilot know to have my jet ready early. After that I set down the phone and smile briefly as I head down the short hallway to get a shower and clean up.

For some reason the thought of leaving him brings a smile to my face.

*****

“Kevin, you know, I really was thinking you were going to be able to get that lap back. I mean, maybe if you had…”

And she drones on and on and on.

Honestly, I don’t even listen to it anymore. Why is she bitching anyway? This is the best finish I’ve had Atlanta in the longest time. So what if I was a lap down? I didn’t have a fucking crew chief. But somehow that’s probably my fault too, at least to her.

We walk through the garage quickly. Well, I walk quickly, and she does her best to keep up, never ending her constant tirade. What does she expect from me anyway? At least I didn’t get caught up in the damn wreck!

I have to smile to myself as I remember passing by that brightly colored flame car smashed against the inside wall. Pity. Bet he had a fun afternoon. Serves the bastard right. I grin again at the fact that his idiot boy got beat at the line by a rookie. Just like I beat him so long--

“Kevin, are you even listening to me?” she snaps at me, and I turn my head to catch her pissed-off expression as we enter the motorcoach lot.

“No,” I tell her bluntly and keep walking.

“Sometimes you can be such an asshole,” she replies, and I just shrug my shoulders and look away. “I was saying that I’m hot, exhausted and really don’t feel like driving all the way back--”

“What do you expect me to do, D?” I ask as I stop and turn to face her. I watch as she crosses her arms across her chest and glares at me, a look that really doesn’t even faze me anymore. “What? Do you want me to sprout wings and--”

“My plane’s empty if you want a ride.”

I freeze as I hear the voice behind me and tell myself I have to be wrong. He wouldn’t. He just wouldn’t. But then I watch as D’s eyes light up and a smile crosses her face as she looks to the person behind me. Please, tell me this is all a joke.

“Are you serious, Jeff? That would be wonderful!” she gushes at him, and I slowly turn around to see him smiling darkly at me. What the hell is he thinking? He can’t possibly be serious. I watch him smirk at me as he finally turns to speak to her again.

“If you can be ready in about five minutes I’m serious. I just want to get out of here,” he tells her with a sweet smile that just makes me sick. Why’s he doing this? Has he lost his mind? Finally I just can’t take it anymore.

“That’s alright, Gordon. We don’t need your--”

“Kevin!” she snaps at me suddenly, stopping my tirade. I turn to see her glaring daggers at me, and I know I’m screwed. She’s going to push this. She’s going to make me get on his fucking jet so he can mock me for the rest of the afternoon, and there’s nothing I can do about it. “Jeff, we’d love a ride,” she says to him with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Thank you so much. We’ll be ready,” she tells him and then looks to me. “Won’t we, Kev?”

I just roll my eyes and respond, “Whatever,” and she glares at me again.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be ready,” she tells him sweetly, and it’s all I can do to keep from rolling my eyes. “Just let me get changed and pick up Lo and we’ll be ready,” and with that she turns away and heads for our coach. I watch her for a moment before turning to him, a glare on my face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hiss at him.

He smiles evilly at me again and replies, “What’s wrong Kev, don’t think you can be in close quarters with me for an hour and a half and manage to keep your hands off me?”

His smirk has the desired effect on me, I’m sure, as it’s all I can do to keep from slamming my fist in his face. Why is he doing this? I glare at him again and growl in response, “You asshole.”

“Actually I think that’s you, isn’t it Havoc?” he teases me and I can barely stay in control. What does he think this is going to accomplish? What if we did…slip? Is that what he’s trying to do? “Go on, Kev,” he says in a low voice as he leans closer to me. “Go on and tell DeLana why you really don’t want to accept my generosity.”

“Fuck you, Wonderboy,” I growl at him and watch as his smile seems to broaden even more.

“I already told you, Havoc…you only wish,” he tells me with a grin, and I can’t help but push him backwards. I move forward, ready to let him know exactly what I think about his games when I suddenly freeze.

“Kevin!” I hear her shrill voice call out behind me.

“I hate you,” I curse at him and turn, heading back to my coach to try and talk some sense into my bitch of a wife.

“The feeling’s mutual,” I hear him say under his breath as I move away from him. I grit my teeth as I see her standing at the door of our coach glaring at me. Well, this is gonna go well, I think to myself as I push past her and climb inside. I instantly unzip and shrug out of the top of my firesuit as I head to the bedroom to change, and I can already hear her right on my heels.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Kevin? Is it your mission to alienate everyone in the garage?” she shouts at me as I try my best to tune her out. “I swear, it’s like you want to make enemies with everyone. You still never told me what you did to piss off Junior….”

Junior. Did she have to bring him up, I think as I grab a pair of jeans and a black polo from the closet and head to the bathroom for a quick shower. What am I supposed to tell her anyway? That he’s not speaking to me because he’s fucking someone else? Because I wouldn’t leave her for him? Yeah, I’m sure she’d love to hear that. Actually, she’d probably send me crawling back to him on the chance it could further our career.

“…I mean, someone like Jeff could help us out. He’s not an Earnhardt but--”

“And how exactly is Gordon going to ‘help us out?’” I demand as I turn back to face her. “He can’t even stand me after Daytona,” I say and can’t help but think to myself…if she only knew. I take another step forward and force myself to lower my voice. “D, I really don’t think this is a good idea….”

I watch as she rolls her eyes as she turns to pull a change of clothes from the closet. “Kevin, can you at least try not to be such as ass for once? Of course he doesn’t hate you. If he did, why would he even offer?”

Because he wants to torment me or maybe fuck me against the nearest solid object? I grit my teeth at her bitching and just reply shortly, “I dunno, D. Maybe he wants to throw me out of the plane. Ever think of that?”

She just rolls her eyes again as she finishes stripping out of her firesuit and pulls on a pair of jeans. “Stop being an idiot, Kevin, and just get changed. We don’t have time for one of your showers. Jeff said five minutes, and we’re not gonna keep him waiting.”

I sigh and roll my eyes this time. Can’t keep Jeff waiting. Heaven forbid if Wonderboy has to wait a few minutes, I think as I start to pull on my clean shirt, and it hits me what I’m doing. I’m tired of doing what I’m told. I’m tired of being everyone’s bitch. Fucking Gordon’s gonna have to wait.

I turn suddenly and storm into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me, even as I hear her nagging voice calling my name. But I don’t care. I turn on the shower and then make sure to lock the bathroom door just as I hear her pounding on it. “The longer you bitch, the longer I’m gonna take,” I shout over the noise of the spray and grin as she suddenly goes silent.

I guess sometimes I can win after all.

But I still have to get on the plane with Jeff. “Shit,” I curse as I finally finish stripping out of my clothes and step into the shower. What the hell is that bastard thinking?

*****

I cross my arms and lean back against the seat of the golf cart and glance at my watch again. Ten minutes. It’s been ten minutes since I made my offer to Kevin and DeLana, and I have to wonder what I’m doing. I should’ve been out of here half an hour ago. I should’ve left during the race. I glance around and realize that Jimmie could come storming through here any moment, pissed at finishing second to the rookie, and I really don’t want to see him. Not today.

I sigh and consider just leaving when I finally see her coming out of their coach dragging him by the wrist. I have to smirk as he looks like he was just pulled out of the shower. I can see a trickle of water sliding down his neck and under the collar of his shirt and find myself reflexively licking my lips--that is, until I realize what I’m doing.

I sit up straighter at the sudden turn my thoughts have taken and wonder what I’m doing? Why did I ask them to come with me? Here I was teasing Kevin about keeping his hands off me, and I already want to grab him and run my tongue across his wet skin. I’m seriously beginning to think I might need professional help. That or a swift kick in the head. I watch them hurry closer and can’t keep from giving Kevin a smirk, but before I have a chance to say a word she’s already apologizing.

“I’m sorry, Jeff,” she says almost breathless as they reach the golf cart, and she takes a seat on the back pulling Kevin with her. “Kevin took a little longer than I expected.” I glance over at him and see him glaring daggers at her behind his dark glasses, and it’s all I can do to keep from laughing at him. I can see how his shirt clings to his still-damp body in places, and I can’t help but think how he looks like a drowned rat…a really hot--

I shake off these thoughts just as he turns to look at me, and I hope I wasn’t leering at him too obviously. This really wasn’t a good idea, I remind myself again. Then I turn and give DeLana my patented fake smile and tease, “Harvick? Slow? I can’t imagine that.” I follow my performance with an easy laugh, which she returns at his expense and watch him grit his teeth at the edge of my vision. This is just too easy. “Don’t worry about it, DeLana,” I reassure her as I motion for my driver to head on to the helicopter. “I won’t hold you responsible for his actions.”

She thanks me and laughs again as she adjusts her bag beside her. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing Lo,” she says, looking up to me and for a moment I’m confused. “I couldn’t exactly leave her behind.” Then she looks down and says in an annoying baby-voice, “Could I, sweetie?”

That’s when I finally notice their little rat-dog peaking out of her oversized purse, rubbing against her hand. Great, I think to myself, just what I was hoping for. A little whiny thing that shouldn’t even be called a dog. I force a smile on my face, but before I can manage a word I hear him mocking me already.

“Yeah, Gordon. I hope you like dogs,” he says and I look over to catch his sarcastic smirk. “Lo just loves plane rides.”

“Kevin!” she snaps at him before I can even think of a response. Then she looks up to me again and says, “Don’t worry, Jeff. She’ll be fine. Won’t you, baby?” she says with the same annoying voice as she looks down at the rat-dog again.

I just nod as I try to force a smile on my face even as Kevin smirks at me knowingly. I’ve just never been a big animal person. I’ve never had time for them and these little--dogs--have never really done anything for me. They just look so creepy with their bug eyes and the way they seem to shake all the time. Why on Earth anyone would want--

I’m jolted from my thoughts as we finally come to a stop a short distance from the helicopter that will take us to my plane. I sigh slightly, as I can still hear her jabbering to the dog, and slip out of the cart to start making my way to the helicopter when I feel him walk up behind me. “This may be more fun than I thought, Wonderboy,” he says under his breath. I barely have a chance to glance over my shoulder at him grinning at me before he continues in a mocking voice, “At least this way she can annoy you and maybe I’ll get a little peace.”

I turn my head a little more to ask him what he means by “annoy me,” but before I can ask she’s right beside us, gushing about the helicopter and how they should always leave the track this way. As we pile inside, I can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy as she continues to berate Kevin for not “having everything they should,” but I instantly push the feeling away. Why should I care if they get along? If he wants to be in a marriage with a domineering wife, that’s his problem. It doesn’t matter to me. It took me almost ten years, but I left mine. If he’s not as smart….

“We really appreciate you doing this for us, Jeff,” she says with that same sickeningly sweet smile that I can tell is as completely fake as my own. I look up at her and just nod to her again, honestly already getting tired of listening to her, when I see her nudge him and say pointedly, “Don’t we, Kevin.”

He looks up to meet my eyes and I’d like to think I see the hint of a smile when he replies bluntly, “No.”

I can see mortification clearly on her face as he goads me again, and I try to suppress a smile, that is, until I really see the rage on her face. She elbows him much harder in the ribs as the whirling engines start, and I can’t hear what she says as she leans over to him and whispers sharply in his ear. I watch as his brow creases and he seems to close his eyes behind his sunglasses and I feel that same twinge of sympathy again. But I force myself to ignore it, even as I watch him obviously mumble something to placate her.

That’s when I realize…this is really how they are. The back-biting. The sniping. It wasn’t an “act” they put on for 360 last year. They really do this all the time. I watch as he shakes his head at something else she says, and I can’t help but wonder why he puts up with it? Why does he let her in so much? Hell, I’d have gone insane if Brooke was so into my racing. She was enough of a leech as it was. So why does he do it? I don’t have the faintest idea.

But that’s his problem, I remind myself. Not mine. I cut my ties years ago. If he can’t do the same…it’s not my problem.

*****

“…could you say that? Right to his face? What the hell were you thinking? Were you even thinking? Of course you weren’t. You know, if you would win a little more maybe we wouldn’t need to…”

And I have to block it out.

I can’t listen to her anymore, and I mutter some type of an apology, even she knows I don’t mean, and lean back. And block it out. Like I have a million times or more before. I ignore her ranting, and I’m actually thankful that Jeff can’t hear her. That he can’t hear how she talks to me, berates me, belittles me. Junior saw it on occasion--ok, many occasions--and he wouldn’t even do anything about it. Honestly, he just ignored it. But what else could I have expected him to do?

Sympathy would have been nice.

But he just pretended he didn’t see. Just like I hope Jeff will. All I need is him having something else to use against me. But what if he…. No. It’s not like he’d give a crap. I mean, Junior supposedly cared about me and he never did a thing. So I’m sure Jeff is just….

Staring straight at me.

I sit up sharply as I can feel his eyes boring into mine, even behind his mirrored shades, and I can’t read him at all. His mouth is a hard line, and his expression is completely unreadable. What is he thinking? Is he…pissed? Annoyed? Irritated at us both? Or could be possibly….

I’m losing my mind. He’s probably about ready to throw us both out of the helicopter. I know he can’t stand me. He’s made that perfectly clear. So why is he staring at me like that? Why did he even ask me to come with him? Just to torment me? So why isn’t he taking this as the perfect opportunity to give me hell?

Finally I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take him staring at me. I can’t take the wondering, and I snap at him. “What the hell are you looking at?” I growl, and I can feel D glaring at me, but I don’t care. I want to know. I need to know.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” he says, and I swear his voice is cold as ice. And at first…at first it hurts. It hurts to be called nothing, even by him. But then I look at him again and I realize…I can’t tell who he’s looking at. I can’t tell if he’s glaring at me…or her.

The rest of the trip is made in silence. Me, glancing at him, her glaring at me, and him…with an expression I still can’t even begin to read. Is he pissed at me? D? Lo? All of us? I haven’t a clue. But he never looks away. He just seems to study us, even after D has long since finished her ranting…for the moment. And I can’t think of a thing to say, not that it would be easy to talk over the loud, whirling engines of the helicopter. So I just cast occasional glances at him sitting across from me and wonder…what the hell he’s thinking.

Thankfully though, the flight is a short one and before I know it we’re landing in a small airport that must have his plane…lucky shit. I reach over and scratch behind Lo’s ears as I hear her whimper and get lost in my own thoughts again. D’s been on my ass forever about getting our own jet. But she knows we can’t afford it. Not yet. Not with the new shop and Busch team. There’s no way. But maybe if I can make the Chase this time. Maybe if I can win some--

“C’mon, Happy, we don’t have all day,” I hear him say and realize I was momentarily lost in thought. I feel D give me a slight shove as I climb out of the helicopter, but I don’t even pay her any mind. Instead I look down at him expecting to see the same--indifference? irritation?--on his face, but instead I swear I see a hint of a smile. Honestly I’m beginning to wonder if he actually likes the verbal abuse we always seem to dole out to each other. I have to admit…it’s definitely growing on me.

“Sorry, Gordon,” I snap back instantly. “I didn’t mean to interfere with your busy schedule of getting back to…wait, what was your hurry again?” I ask with a smirk and instantly wince as I feel D smack me on the back of the head. Shit. I wasn’t even thinking about her listening.

“Kevin!”

Here it comes.

“Jeff, I’m sorry,” she says in a rush, pausing only to glare at me as she walks over to kiss his ass. Stupid bitch. I don’t care what she says. I can’t play that game. I’m sure as hell not gonna kiss up to Wonderboy. I just wish she hadn’t heard me though. I’ll never hear the end of it. “Really, he didn’t mean--”

“DeLana, would you give it a rest?”

My head snaps up at his words, and I know I didn’t hear him right. I know he’s not…standing up to her? Defending me? I look to him in surprise, but he’s not facing my direction. He’s turned to her, and I can only see his profile as I watch D stop in mid-sentence with her mouth actually hanging open. What the hell’s he doing?

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he tells her with a smooth smile. “As much as you’ve been around the garage I’d figure you’d know we all talk crap to each other,” he continues easily and it hits me what he’s doing. He’s covering. For me. And I don’t have the faintest idea why. I figured he’d use this as a perfect opportunity to slam me some more. But he’s not. Why?

“Isn’t that right, Kev?” he asks turning his head to face me. He’s really going to play this off like we do this all the time. Like we’re actually friends or something. I swear, I’m never going to understand him.

“‘Course it is, Jeff,” I say, playing right along in what has to be the most civilized conversation we’ve ever had, and I have to wonder if the helicopter somehow took us to some kind of bizarro universe. Some place where he and I can actually be--nice?--to each other.

I see the surprise and confusion on D’s face as she looks from Jeff to me, and I just give her my trademark grin. Then she looks back to Jeff for a moment before sighing and saying, “Men,” as she shakes her head and heads toward the plane. I watch her walk off and then move to follow her, pausing to glance at Jeff as he pulls off his sunglasses and sets them on top of his head. I can’t help but give him a questioning look as he moves to walk in step with me. I watch as he slightly tips his head forward and gives me a sly grin as he glances over to me.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he says under his breath, and I assume he’s referring to standing up to D. I start to answer, but before I can he continues in a low voice, “I finally get rid of my bitch and then invite yours along. I must be losing my mind.”

I lose it immediately. I can’t hold back the laughter and watch as his smile seems to grow even more. I see D turn and look at us both questioningly before rolling her eyes and climbing into the plane, and I laugh even harder. I can’t help but smirk at him as I finally manage to reply, “Nah, you’re just getting senile in your old age, Gordon.”

He moves quickly, I think at first to hit me and I try to duck out of the way. But instead I feel his hand at the back of my neck, pulling me down to meet his fiery blue eyes and I feel a shiver down my spine at the intensity of his look. “I’ll show you senile, you little shit,” he snaps at me as he squeezes my neck a little harder and we’re suddenly standing way too close to each other.

We both freeze at the same instant, and I watch his dark eyes widen in obvious surprise at his own actions. Instantly he pulls his hand away, as if burned by my skin, and takes a step backwards, eyes never leaving mine. I stand there, as stunned as he is I’m sure because for a moment I completely forgot where we were--something Junior was never even able to make me do. I never lost control. I never took real risks. Not until this bastard in front of me.

I watch as he slowly reaches up, sliding his mirrored sunglasses back over his deep blue eyes, and watches me for another moment before saying icily, “Plane’s waiting.” Then without another word he turns and takes the last few steps to the waiting jet beside us, and I can’t even begin to read him. Is he actually mad at me? Or is this another “act”? In the last few weeks we’ve been playing so many games I can’t even tell. Hell, I don’t even really know him. All I know is that I can still feel the heat of his hand on the back of my neck as he ran his thumb over my skin and I wish we were alone.

What the hell are we doing?

*****

As I climb into my waiting plane I have to silently curse myself. What’s wrong with me? What’s going on? Why did standing there with him, giving each other hell, feel so…comfortable? Honestly that’s the first time I’ve actually enjoyed being with him that we weren’t fucking or physically attacking each other. Where did it come from, and what was I gonna do, kiss him on the fucking tarmac?

I shake my head and force a smile and a nod to DeLana, who is sitting at one of the window seats. Then I move to sit down in the second seat of three across from her. I try desperately to get myself under control as I have to once again take off my sunglasses, sitting them and my hat in the window seat beside me. I run my fingers through my hair and can’t even look at him as he climbs into the plane after me and slides into the end seat across from me, leaving one between him and his wife for their little dog. How the hell am I going to make it through this flight? Why did I even invite him anyway? And how is it that he can so easily cause me to lose complete control?

It just seemed so natural, to reach for him that way. But he’s not Jimmie. And even if he was, I was never so blatantly obvious…not in the open where anyone and everyone could see. Why is it that I enjoy verbally sparring with Kevin so much? And why does it drive me so insane?

Maybe because no one else has ever stood up to me like that, I think, as the door is closed to the jet and we begin to taxi down the runway. No one talks to me the way he does. Brooke didn’t even do that. Oh, she would bitch at me, sure. But with him it’s like a constant battle. Just like when we….

I desperately try to cut off that train of thought and look up to see Kevin playing with his dog. I watch as he spins his hand around above her head and she turns circles trying to catch him…but she never comes close. She just runs in circles, snapping at him and never catching him, and I suddenly realize that’s exactly how I feel.

Constantly running in circles. Never getting anywhere.

Oh, I thought I was with Jimmie, but…. He put an end to that. Or did he? He keeps acting the same, shooting me looks full of longing, so I wait. I run around, chasing my tail and wait for him. I wait for him to finally stop playing games and come back and tell me what I did wrong. Tell me why he left in the first place. I watch as Kevin finally stops teasing the poor dog and strokes her head, and I feel a completely irrational jealously fill me. When do the games end for me? And when did I start comparing my life to a tiny little rat-dog?

I glance up and realize we’re finally in the air and I unfasten my belt, pushing myself out of my chair in one quick motion. I feel his eyes follow me and I glance over at him. “Want something to drink, Havoc?” I ask him shortly as I make my way to the side bar at the back of the plane.

“Yeah, sure,” I hear him respond, and I look back his direction to see him playing with the dog again. “Whatcha got?” he asks me distractedly.

I can’t help but sneer as I respond to him, “No Coke products, that’s for sure.”

He looks up suddenly, and I finally get to see his green eyes sparkling with mischief as he replies, “That’s right. I forgot I was flying with Pepsi’s official bitch.”

I roll my eyes as I scoop some ice from the small fridge into a glass and glance to see what the bitch will have to say about his latest comment. That’s when I realize she seems to be completely asleep with her head thrown back against the window and her mouth slightly open. My eyes widen slightly in surprise, and I look back to him as I reach down to find that the mini-bar is still stocked. I smile as my hand finds a small bottle of Crown and ask him, “Is she really asleep?”

At that moment I suddenly hear a loud snore, even over the engine of the plane, and he looks up to me with a look of annoyance on his face as he replies, “That answer your question?” I laugh as I pour a little whiskey into my glass before topping it with Pepsi. That’s when I hear his voice again, mocking as usual, “Damn, Wonderboy, I didn’t know you were a drinker.”

I just snort in mock irritation as I pull a beer from the fridge and walk back over to him, tossing him the bottle. “I’m gonna need it if I have to listen to that,” I say as I motion to his wife, “for the next hour and a half.” I expect a snappy comeback as I slide into my seat and take a sip of my drink, but instead I see him staring at the bottle of Bud Light in his hand. That’s when I realize…maybe that’s not what he’d want. I just assumed…. “Hey, I’ve got something else if you’d rather--”

“No,” he says sharply as his head snaps up and he quickly twists the lid off the brown bottle. “This is fine,” he says with clipped words and tosses the lid to the side before taking a long drink. What was I thinking? I should have known he wouldn’t want a damn Budweiser. I swear, sometimes I’m the idiot.

“Look I didn’t--”

“It’s fine,” he snaps at me, and I grit my teeth at his obstinance and take another drink. Why does he have to be such an ass all the time? I wasn’t deliberately trying to get a rise out of him for once. I just have to shake my head. He’s really almost too impossible to handle, that is, unless I’m pinning him to the nearest flat surface.

I can’t help but smile slowly at the thought and the memories that come to mind as I take another sip of my Pepsi. That’s when I see him narrow his eyes slightly and ask, “What are you smiling at, Gordon?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I drawl at him teasingly, and he narrows his eyes a little more. He sits up a little straighter, dog seemingly forgotten, as he takes another drink of the beer in his hand.

“Bet I could guess,” he replies, eyes never leaving mine. I watch as he slowly trails his hand down the neck of the bottle and then back up before taking another long drink. I can’t help but lick my lips at the sight, but I try to cover by taking another sip of my own drink, shaking a piece of ice in my mouth as I do. I watch him intently as I run the ice over my tongue and I catch his eyes as they lock on my mouth. I have to smile as I realize being here, like this, so close--it’s getting to him, too.

Finally he shakes his head slightly and drains the rest of his beer. Then he stands and walks slowly past me to the back of the plane and I hear the refrigerator open and close as he grabs another bottle, glass clinking as the bottles touch. I keep my eyes straight ahead as I feel him coming back this way. But then he surprises me by sliding into the seat beside me instead of sitting across from me.

I turn my head to meet jade eyes swirling with gold and smile slowly as I ask, “Get lost, Havoc?”

“Didn’t realize we had assigned seats. Damn, you really are a hard-ass aren’t you, Wonderboy?” he teases as he leans a fraction closer, running his hand over the neck of the bottle in his lap.

“Wouldn’t you just love to know,” I murmur as I set my almost empty glass on the seat beside me and lean forward, meeting him halfway. It’s like a jolt of electricity runs through me as his lips crash to mine, and I have to wonder if this is somehow like what being struck by lightning might feel like. I instantly slide my hand around his neck, just like before, and pull him to me, deepening the kiss. I hear him moan softly against my lips as we finally use our tongues for a completely different kind of battle. I reach my other hand forward, placing it on his knee and slide it up his thigh, digging my nails into the rough denim when he suddenly pulls away.

His green eyes are wide and dark as emeralds as he pants lightly. I see his eyes flick suddenly to glance at DeLana, and I realize he’s not as bold as he wanted to make me think. I can’t help but smile as he tries to find words, and I squeeze his upper thigh again.

“Jeff, I didn’t mean…” he says as he tries to remove my hand from his leg. “We can’t…not here…” he says desperately as he licks his kiss swollen lips, and I feel my smile as well my desire grow.

I lean forward, lips almost touching his ear, and tell him in a low seductive voice, “C’mon, Havoc. I know it turns you on when you know you can get caught.” Then to prove my point I slide my hand up further, cupping the hard evidence of his desire in my hand. Then I slowly stroke him through the denim and watch satisfied as his eyes flutter closed and he moans softly again. “You know you’d love nothing more than for me to fuck you right here, knowing she could wake up any minute,” I say quietly and then run my tongue over the shell of his ear.

“God, yes,” he whispers, and I run my lips down the side of his neck, nipping lightly at his skin. I feel him tremble against me, and it’s all I can do to keep my own desire in check. God, he really does want me…here. And the thing is…I don’t think there is anyway I can deny him. He just makes me completely lose myself.

“You like danger,” I murmur against his skin as I run my tongue along his jawline and he tilts his head back. “You loved it when I sucked you off in the middle of the garage when your team could’ve walked right in,” I growl as I kiss his throat. “You went wild when I spread you across my table, and I bet you loved it even more when Jimmie came by and almost caught us,” I tell him as I stroke him harder with my hand, even as I try to push back the twinge of guilt I feel at saying Jimmie’s name. I hear him moan softly again as he trembles under my touch, and it’s all so unbelievably erotic I can’t think about anything but him. “Ever been in the Mile High Club, Havoc?” I ask him as I nibble on his earlobe again. But then I sigh as I feel his hands finally pushing me back.

I pull back, just a little, and look down into his lust-filled eyes swimming with flecks of gold. My own breath comes faster as his eyes bore into mine, and I’m suddenly terrified he’s going to push me away. That he’s going to mock me for “not being able to keep my hands off him.” I know he wants me, but will he actually admit it? Will he actually go for it? And am I really considering this?

*****

Blue eyes of fire, locked with mine, and I can’t believe how much I actually want him. He’s right. Danger does get me hot. Hotter than I ever imagined, and it seems like, with him, everything is just so bad. I do want him. And the thought of him screwing me when she could wake up any minute sends shivers of desire running down my spine. But, “We can’t do this here,” I tell him and it’s not for the reason he thinks. It’s not that I’m afraid of her, it’s just, for some reason as insane as it sounds, I don’t want to share him. And I don’t want to hear her snore!

I see the disappointment in his eyes he’s obviously trying to hide, and he starts to pull back. That’s when I realize he doesn’t understand. I grab his arm, preventing him from pulling further away and give him a slow, mischievous grin. “Tell me, Gordon, does this thing have a bathroom?”

It’s like a fire ignites in his eyes at my words and I can see the longing reflected there. My God. He actually does want me. At least for the moment, and right now that’s all that matters. That, and him making me feel more than I can ever remember. To be honest, I wouldn’t even give a shit if she did wake up. Then for once she could actually see me happy!

A slow grin crosses his face as he finally responds, “Wouldn’t be a Lear Jet without one, now would it, Havoc?” I watch as he finally pulls back and shakily makes his way to his feet. That when I realize, he’s as turned on as I am. He looks down at me, eyes smoldering with lust, and reaches out a hand to me. I take it and let him pull me to my feet. I meet his gaze for just a moment before I feel his hands on me, turning me suddenly and pushing me towards the back of the plane.

I can’t help but smile at his aggressiveness as I make my way to the back of the plane and wonder if he has any idea how much I was hoping for this…not that I’d ever tell him. But after I had a chance to get in the shower and calm down I couldn’t help but think of his quietly spoken, mocking words.

“…don’t think you can be in close quarters with me for an hour and a half and manage to keep your hands off me?”

He was right. I couldn’t imagine being stuck with him in such a small space without fighting or fucking…or both. I moan softly as I feel him press me against the bathroom door and suck hard on my neck. Why is it that fighting with him just seems to be the best foreplay I’ve ever known? Why is it that I just can’t get enough?

“God, Kev, you’re just so damn wild,” I hear him growl in my ear, and I twist around in his arms, turning to face him.

Then I grin at him, meeting his blazing eyes and reply, “Isn’t that why you call me Havoc, Wonderboy?”

I watch him close his eyes as it’s finally his turn to groan softly and then smile as his eyes bore into mine again. “Wonderboy, huh? Guess I’ll have to make sure and prove myself then, right Havoc?”

I smile at him as he lunges forward again, crushing his lips to mine. God, I hope he does, is all I can think as I feel his hands slide down my body and around my waist to grip my ass. I feel him thrust against me and then pull me backward as his hand finds the latch for the door, tugging it open. Then he’s pushing me roughly backwards, into the small space, and I have to wince as my lower back comes into contact with what I assume must be the sink. But his violent actions, just as before, do nothing but increase my lust, and I pull him forward into my arms.

He wraps his arms around me again, attacking my neck with his tongue and teeth and I’m actually putty in his hands. He can do anything he wants to me right now, and I’m in no frame of mind to care. All I want is to feel him inside me. When did I become such a fucking whore?

He turns me in his arms again, runs his hands over my chest and all I can do is tremble in response. How does he do this to me? I feel his hands run down my body and then reach into the front pocket of my jeans, and I know what he’s searching for. I’d never tell him, but since Vegas--even as much as I hated him--I haven’t been able to get him out of my head, and I’ll be damned if we get a chance to do this and we can’t because neither of us was “ready”. I never know when we’ll get a chance like this so I’ll be the bitch. I’ll always be ready for him.

I hear him moan against the skin of my neck as he finds what he’s searching for, and I can’t help but smile--that is, until he opens his big mouth. “Always prepared aren’t you, Kev” he breaths against my skin as he crushes himself against me. “You really are a slut, aren’t you?” he teases, and I force myself to keep from pushing him away.

My blood runs hot with anger and lust and I can’t keep from snapping back, “What’s wrong, Jeff? Were your other whores not as prepared?” I feel him freeze behind me, his body going stiff, and I curse my sharp tongue. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Why did I have to piss him off? What if he just decides I’m not worth his time?

Suddenly I feel him relax and lean into me again, and I feel his breath at my ear again. “No, Kev. You’re so much better than a whore…and you’re free.”

I bristle at his arrogant words even though I do catch the thinly veiled compliment. Then I tilt my head back to give him better access to my neck as I reply, “Free? Maybe that’s just what I want you to think,” I say as he kisses and nips down my jawline and across my throat. “Maybe I’ll just end up blackmailing you,” I tell him with a grin. “I bet Jimmie would just love to know you’re fucking the enemy.”

I expect him to be pissed. Hell, I expect him to try and hit me. But instead, he just pauses for a moment and I feel his breath against my skin. Then he runs his tongue over my skin again and says, “Tell him. Wouldn’t make a difference,” and I can’t help but notice the defeated tone in his voice. “It’d matter ‘bout as much as me telling Dale,” he murmurs as his hands finally finds the waist band of my jeans and begins to work the button.

He’s really in the same boat as me, I think, as I lean back against him. No one cares about us anymore. We might as well have fun where we can find it. Who’s really gonna give a damn?

Finally I feel him slide down the zipper of my jeans and reach inside to stroke me briefly. I moan at his touch and then attempt to help him as he tries to push down the constricting denim. He pushes me forward and I have to twist in the small space as my head hits the wall. Then I hiss in discomfort as he tries to push me forward even more, ending up twisting my back in a very uncomfortable position.

This is not going to work.

“Damn, Jeff,” I growl at him. “I don’t bend that way,” I snap, trying to push myself back up. “Who do you think I am, Carl Edwards?”

Finally he decides to take mercy on me, and I feel his strong hands at my waist, pulling me back up even as I hear him chuckle behind me. “God, I hope not,” he responds, and I can hear the smile on his lips. “If you were I think I’d have to put a bag over your head to keep from being blinded by your god-awful teeth.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh at his dry sense of humor. “Although…” he continues as he pulls me against him again. “I bet he could really get into some interesting positions, limber as he must be.”

“Shut the fuck up, Gordon,” I snap, and I can feel him laughing silently behind me.

“Don’t worry, Havoc. You’re my favorite little whore,” he says quietly in my ear and for some reason I can’t even get pissed at his words this time.

Instead I just snap back, “Yeah, and you’re the world’s best pimp. What a pair we make.” I feel him laugh quietly again and then slowly push me slightly forward, reaching around and placing my hands on the small sink. Then I feel him slide down my body in the cramped space and I have to ask, “What the hell are you doing, Pimp Daddy?”

I hear him chuckle softly again as his hands find my waist and he only responds by saying, “Patience, my little slut.” I can’t help but smile at his teasing this time and lean forward slightly, resting my weight on my hands. Then I feel him slowly working my jeans down my legs and then trying to lift one of my feet by the ankle. I help him out by lifting my foot and he pulls the denim out of the way, finally freeing one leg completely. Then I feel him struggling to stand in the small space, reaching for my hips for leverage. I grip the sink tighter as he pulls himself up and barely keep from falling down myself.

Finally he makes it to his feet and I can’t help but goad him again. “You know, if you were a little thinner maybe this would be easier, Gordon.”

“Shut up, Kevin,” he responds as he slides his hands up under my shirt and I hiss in pleasure as I feel his nails rake down my chest. Then he turns me towards the back of the small room and uses his foot to spread my legs apart and before I know it I’m leaning forward, hands flat against the wall, basically, straddling the toilet.

“Well this is just…super,” I tell him sarcastically, unable to help myself. I hear him make a noise that sounds like a growl behind me and then he’s pressing himself flush against me. I can feel his naked flesh against mine and I shiver as he thrusts his rock hard cock against my ass.

“You know, I never think of Atlanta without remembering how you beat me there, you asshole,” he says seductively in my ear, and I can’t believe how his mocking turns me on. As his words finally penetrate my lust-addled mind all I can do is wonder if he’s serious. Could he possibly know that he’s talking about one of the biggest days of my life? That when I took over Dale’s car all I wanted to do was prove I’d earned it…and beat people like him. And to beat him at the line…a three-time champion no less. It was amazing. Almost as amazing as--

“Uhhhhhh,” I moan as I feel him thrust against me again, and I can’t wait for him to just get on with it. Doesn’t he know I’ve been running in overdrive since he first pressed his lips to mine? I don’t need anymore--

“I’ll never forget the way you beat me at the line…nothing but a fucking rookie.” I moan again as his slides a hand around my waist and lightly runs his fingertips over my straining erection. “Cocky and brash…if I’d only known what a good lay you were…,” he circles his fingers around me and strokes me again, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. “I’da wanted to do this sooner.”

I gasp as he finally pushes himself inside me, burying himself all the way. My entire body is trembling as I drop my head forward and still he continues driving me even more insane. “I’da wanted to spread you out over the hood of that white car and pound you into next week for beating me,” he growls and thrusts hard into me again to punctuate is words.

“Yes, Jeff. God, yes,” I groan as I push back against him in the small space, picturing the image he’s painted in my mind. Imagining what it might have been like back then. Before Junior. Before D. When I had nothing but the entire world spread out before me. “Yes, Jeff,” I say in a breathless voice. “Fuck me hard. Show me what you’da done.”

*****

“Punish me for beating you.”

“Oh, fuck,” I moan at his low, breathy words, and I can’t even believe I’m telling him this…one of my most recent fantasies. And even more than that, I can’t believe he’s willing to play along! I thrust into him again, knowing I can’t hold back much more and continue my twisted dialogue.

“Fucking, rookie, shit,” I growl at him as I slide one arm around his waist and thrust into him. “How dare you take away what’s mine,” I hiss and rake my nails up his chest, already slick with sweat. “Atlanta was mine, Havoc,” I snarl as I finally begin to increase my pace, imagining that I’m pounding him into the hood of his car.

I see his arms tremble as he pushes back to meet my thrusts and I suddenly wish it was four years ago. Back before teammates and annoying wives. Back when maybe we could have--

I shake my head, ridding it of all serious thought and concentrate on nothing but the hard, willing body underneath me. He wants me. Now. And right now, that’s good enough for me.

“Jeff, please…,” I hear him moan, and I know what he needs. I pull him back, even as I stroke him faster, and kiss the back of his neck, nipping at his ear. Then I run my tongue over the salty skin of his neck and I can feel him moan beneath my lips. I hear him make a low sound, from the back of his throat, as I thrust into him harder, faster, and I know he’s close. I see the same sexy frown on his face that has haunted my fantasies, and I want him to come with me. I want him to lose himself completely.

“It was mine, Kev,” I tell him in his ear and feel him shudder against me as he moans again. “Mine,” I growl and for an instant I wonder if I’m talking about the race or him. But I push the thought out of my mind the instant the words leave my lips and lean forward, biting his shoulder through the cotton of his shirt even as I feel his body spasming in my arms.

“Holy fuck, Jeff,” he cries out in a strangled whisper, and I instantly push him forward again. Thrusting into him once, twice, three times more before I’m the one biting my lip to stay quiet.

“Kevin, yes, uhhhhnnnghh,” I moan as I lose myself completely to him once again, shaking and shuddering and barely able to remember my own name. We stay like that a few minutes, panting heavily, as I lean against him with my arms wrapped around his waist. I rub my cheek against the rough cotton of his shirt and finally realize we probably don’t have much time left. The flight from Atlanta to Charlotte is a short one and we’ll be landing soon. Not to mention…there’s no guarantee his wife hasn’t woken up.

But I don’t want to move. Even though I’m still leaning forward in a rather uncomfortable position, I don’t want to move, don’t even want to say a word. For once, I’m not in the mood to fight, and I know that that’s what’ll happen next. One of us will say or do something to send the other one off in a rage…and I don’t want that. For a moment I just want to stay here, with him, and pretend we don’t despise each other. Part of me still wonders if this will ever happen again, but I’m beginning to think it will. Whatever this is, we both seem to need it. But I’m still not in the mood for another knockdown drag out. So I stay silent. At least until I hear scratching on the door.

I frown in confusion at the noise and tilt my head to try and get a better listen and that’s when I hear a soft whimpering. What the hell?

“Shit, Lo,” I hear him say, and he tries to stand up suddenly, causing the back of his head to come into contact with my jaw and sending me backwards against the door.

“Kevin, what the hell?” I growl as I reach a hand up to my aching jaw.

“It’s, Lo,” he says again as he tries again to stand, but there’s just not room and his frantic actions are just making things worse. “Shit,” he curses again as he tries to shake his other leg out of his jeans. “Dammit, Jeff, let her in,” he snaps looking up at me.

I look at him like he’s gone completely insane, as I’ve finally managed to pull up and fasten my jeans, and ask, “What are you talking about, Harvick? Who the heck is Lo?”

He returns my look with one of surprise as well and shakes his head. “My dog, you moron. Now let her in before she wakes D!”

Suddenly it all makes sense, and I start to protest. The last thing we need is a dog in here when we barely have room to move, but at the blazing look of desperation and anger in his eyes I decide not to argue. Instead I push the door open, just enough for the little rat to come in, and then tug it closed. But then I have to yelp in surprise as the little mutt starts growling and biting at my ankle.

“Kevin, what the fuck!” I hiss at him as I try to shake her off. But there’s no room and she just continues tugging at the bottom of my jeans.

“Good God, Jeff, just pick her up,” he snaps at me and for minute I’m sure he’s joking. Does he really think I want to pick up that snarling little monster? But at his dark look I realize he’s not going to give me a choice, and it’s that or let her destroy my jeans.

“Fine,” I snap back and try to slide down the door enough to reach her. She nips at my hand and I actually growl back at her in response. Then, finally, I manage to get a hold of the squirming little mutt and make my way to my feet. She ends up snapping at my hands again and, having enough, I toss her in the sink.

I see Kevin give me a look like I’m insane and then reach over to the dog and scratch her ears saying, “It’s ok sweetheart. Daddy’s fine.” I roll my eyes at his display and see that he’s finally managed to turn around and is now sitting on the lid of the toilet. He talks to the mutt a little more then looks up at me and says with a smirk, “You really aren’t much of a dog person, are you, Gordon?”

“Never had much time for pets,” I reply shortly as I reach up to smooth my shirt and flatten my hair.

“Guess that explains it then,” he says matter of fact and continues to pet the dog who seems to be perfectly content to sit in the sink.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Explains what?” I snap back, irritated at being picked on for not dragging a little rat around with me where ever I go. What do I need with a dog anyway? Not like I’d ever have time to see it.

He finally turns back to me and tilts his head, obviously looking me over before responding, “Your winning personality?” I give him a hard look, and he just shrugs at me. “C’mon Jeff, it’s not like you’re the cuddliest person out there.”

I roll my eyes at him again and shake my head saying, “I think you spend too much time with your animals.” He raises an eyebrow at my remark obviously waiting for me to continue, and I can’t help but smirk at him as I do. “Maybe that’s why you seem to act like a rabid dog half the time.”

I have to finally smile as all he does is laugh at me in return. “At least I have a personality,” he says with a grin.

“Hey, I resent that,” I snap back, feigning anger. But he doesn’t buy it for a moment.

“Suuuure you do, sponsor whore,” he says eyes sparkling with mischief, and it’s all I can do to keep from lunging at him again.

“Careful,” I tell him teasingly. “Don’t let Mikey hear you say that. He might get offended at you stealing his name.” He laughs again and I manage to move closer to him, threading my fingers through the back of his hair as I pull his head back. But before I can even think about doing more the plane suddenly shakes and both our eyes go wide.

“Shit. Go, Jeff. Make sure she’s not awake,” he says quickly as he tries to move to his feet.

My eyes grow even wider at his words and I reply, “What, you think she might be? You go out there,” I order him even as he falls backwards onto the toilet lid again.

Then he glares up at me, raising his hands as says, “Yeah, good idea, Wonderboy. Let me stroll out there half naked. Won’t be conspicuous at all.”

“And me coming out of here isn’t?” I shoot back, but I know he’s right as the plane shakes from turbulence again. I sigh deeply and reach behind me for the door handle sparing him one more glance.

“Have fun,” he says with what I swear amounts to a shit-eating grin.

“Fuck off, Havoc,” I growl back as I finally push the door open and slip out as silently as I can.

But as I quietly push the door shut behind me I hear his muffled voice say, “Maybe later, Wonderboy,” and I can’t help but smile. Then I lean against the door, taking a deep breath and finally look over to where she’s sitting.

Thank God.

Her eyes are still closed and I hear another snore drift across the small space. God, what were we thinking trying that with his wife only feet away? I swear, I’ve never been so reckless. But as I feel a smile cross my face I realize I don’t care. It’s fun to be bad. And with Kevin, the badder the better.

I slowly make my way over to where she’s still leaning against the window sleeping and pick up my glass which is now full of nothing but water. I walk it back over to the mini bar and consider making another drink when I finally hear her begin to stir. I look up suddenly as she slowly opens her eyes and glances around, eyes finally landing on me. “Want something to drink?” I offer her, trying to keep her distracted.

“Uhh, sure. Do you have any water?” she responds and I just nod, putting away my glass and reaching for a bottle of water from the small fridge. I walk back over to her, pausing only to pick up Kevin’s discarded, unopened bottle and sit down in the middle seat across from her, handing her the water bottle. She takes it, glancing around again and asks, “Where’s Kevin?”

“Bathroom,” I reply as nonchalantly as possible and reach over to the empty window seat beside me, picking up my sunglasses and hanging them on the front of my shirt. Then I pick up my hat, sliding it on my head with practiced ease, as she just nods and opens the bottle taking a long drink.

Finally I hear the door behind me open and Kevin walks out, carrying his dog and DeLana looks up at him questioningly. “Kevin, why did you have Lo with you,” she asks suspiciously.

He just grins as he walks over and replies, “What can I say? She doesn’t like Gordon.” He gives me a smirk as he says this, and I can only shake my head. Then he looks past me and smiles again saying, “Ohhh, window seat,” and pushes his way past me to slide into the open seat beside me across from his wife. I look at him in surprise as he plucks the unopened beer bottle from my hand and plops down saying, “Thanks, Jeff.” Then he twists open the top and takes a drink as if this is all completely normal and we didn’t just screw each other’s brains out in the bathroom.

I just shake my head and reply, “No problem, Kevin,” and glance up to see DeLana giving us both a strange look. But then she just shrugs, reaching to take the dog from Kevin and placing her in her lap.

“Good to see you two didn’t kill each other while I was asleep,” she comments and for the second time today I feel like I’m in some kind of alternate reality. This is just too strange for words.

“Nah, Gordo’s not too bad once you get to know him,” he replies. Then I have to stifle a gasp as he puts his hand on my knee and gives it a quick squeeze before taking another drink of his beer. He’s smirking at me, daring me to do what I’m not exactly sure. But I know I can’t let him out do me.

“Yeah,” I reply giving him a grin of my own. “Harvick’s not too bad either once you get him out of his firesuit.” I watch as his lips part slightly in surprise as I reach over, under the pretense of patting him on the back, and lightly brush my thumb across the base of his neck. He’s gonna have to learn….

Two can play at this game.

*****

“Good. See, I told you Kev. You can get along with people when you try,” she says condescendingly and I have to grit my teeth. Why does she always have to do this? And why does she have to do it in front of him.

I look over to her, giving her an obviously fake smile and reply, “Guess you were right for once, D,” and hope she’ll let it drop. Or maybe I shouldn’t. I’m still not sure what I was thinking coming over to sit by Gordon, but I swear I can still feel his touch on the back of my neck, as well as his leg pressing against mine. Honestly I need a distraction, I think, as I take another drink of my lukewarm beer. Much more of this and I’m gonna be ready to drag his ass back to the tiny bathroom and beg him to fuck me all over again.

I seriously have lost my mind.

“You really should listen to me more often,” she says in her annoying “let’s lecture Kevin” voice. “Maybe if you did--”

But whatever else she was going to say is thankfully cut off as an intercom clicks on and the pilot informs us that we’ll be landing in a few minutes. I lean my head back against the seat and watch distantly as D turns to put Lo in her bag. Then I sit up in surprise as I feel hands sliding across my waist. “Wha--” I start to say, but he cuts me off speaking low in my ear.

“You heard the man. You need to fasten your seatbelt,” he purrs in my ear and I hear the faint click of the latch before he pulls away. Shit. I never thought he’d actually have the balls to screw around like this. But this is the same psycho who blew me in my hauler in California…so I don’t know why I’m that surprised. Now if I can just think of another way to mess with him.

I glance over to him and suggestively run my hand over the long neck bottle in my lap the same way I did earlier and grin as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He really is too easy. I glance over to see D still fussing over Lo and then take the bottle by the neck and place it in his lap, sliding it between his legs. “Here, Jeff,” I tell him casually as I push the bottle up further between his legs and see him take in a sharp breath. “Why don’t you finish this. I think I’ve had enough.”

Then I start to pull away to lean back in my own seat. But before I can, I feel his fingers slide over mine as he takes the bottle with a slow grin. I watch as he brings the bottle to his lips, still looking at me out of the corner of his eye, and tilts it up, drinking it all down at once. And I can’t look away. I can’t tear my eyes from him as I watch him swallow down the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly, and I suddenly remember what it felt like when he swallowed around me….

I turn sharply, unable to watch him for another second and I know he’s won this round. I glance out the window as I fold my hands in my lap, suddenly wishing D hadn’t taken Lo away. He got me, that’s for sure, and it’s all I can do to keep from panting with desire. Fucking asshole.

I barely get a glimpse of him putting the empty bottle in the outside seat beside him. Then I have to smile as he reaches up to take off his hat, dropping it in his lap under the pretense of messing with his hair. Guess I’m not the only one who’s hot and bothered.

“Jeff, I really want to thank you again for giving us a ride,” D tells him so sweetly it almost makes me sick. “I didn’t mean to pass out on you, but I really was exhausted.”

“No problem,” he says a little distractedly making me smile again. Then I feel his eyes on me briefly as he says, “Glad I could be of service.” I have to bite my tongue then to keep from laughing at him and this entire situation.

“Well, at least you two seemed to have been able to talk and work out any differences between you,” she says in her matter of fact voice as if she’s the one responsible for us “getting along.” I just ignore her, but Jeff, it seems, wasn’t expecting her to say that as he’s suddenly coughing and choking.

I have to stifle a laugh as I turn and pat him on the back saying, “You alright, Gordon? Forget how to breathe?”

He glances up and glares at me as he finally stops coughing and replies, “Nah, something just got caught in my throat.”

I just can’t help it. I lean a little closer to him and whisper under my breath, “Maybe next time, Wonderboy,” and he sits up suddenly smirking at me again. Then he picks up his hat from his lap, bringing it up to put back on his head. But as he does, he pauses with it in front of his lips and mouths the words “next time” to me with a smile. I just smile back at him and give him the barest hint of a nod.

There will be a next time. I don’t know when and I don’t know where. But I know I’ll be ready.

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Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com