Silent Echoes

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Summary: Whispers of the past are hard to ignore...permanently.

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: NC-17
SERIES: The Chase Series
CHARACTER: DeLana Harvick/Jeff Gordon, DeLana POV
CATEGORY: General/Romance/Angst
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #45 (#20 for me) - Argos; 10_per_genre - #9 Haunted
COMPLETED: June 1, 2007
WORD COUNT: 2,213
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first ever attempt at Het fic and I would love any constructive criticism or feedback yall have to offer. I hope you enjoy this. I definitely did. :) Once again I’ve got a song as inspiration. This time it’s Haunted by Evanescence and you can click the here if you want to see the inspiration.
AUTHOR'S NOTE2: This takes place Saturday night during the fifth race of The Chase 2005 when Kevin Harvick, Dale Earnhardt Jr and Jeff Gordon all missed The Chase. During this race Jeff wrecked on lap 46 and then scuffed tires for his teammates for part of the race. Kevin blew a tire and hit the wall on lap 174 and after many laps in the garage he went back out on track.
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Chase Race #5 - Lowe’s Motor Speedway: October 15th, 2005

Roaring engines. 

Gasoline. 

Burnt rubber and squealing tires as Kevin pulls out of the pit box and back onto the track and to be honest, I don’t see any of it.  It’s all so…distant.  The cars, the race, Todd rambling to the crew about the lousy tire this weekend; I don’t hear any of it.  It’s all just a loud, technicolor blur that doesn’t even touch me anymore.  I haven’t even looked at the scoring sheet in my hands for at least 30 laps, not that anyone even notices.  Honestly, I’m not even sure why I’m here.

It’s been weeks since I’ve really been “let in” to the orchestrated chaos around me.  I’ve been off, distracted, and when I haven’t even been about to provide lap times…they just quit asking.  I’m still Kevin’s wife.  No one is going to tell me to leave, but that doesn’t mean I’m actually still useful.

I hear whispers around me and I look around, trying to catch the words.  Start to pull off my head phones and I suddenly realize it’s all in my head.  I hear echoes of the way it used to be, when Kevin and I were a team, when it all wasn’t just a broken dream.  I was part of the team then, listening to every word on the radio, charting lap times and relaying messages to the other teams when necessary.  But now…now I’m just a fixture on the pit box, a trophy wife and nothing more.

Stare blankly at the track, clipboard clutched to my chest, as my eyes instantly find the 29 even though the car is white and red instead of the familiar silver and black.  I’ve always been drawn to him like a magnet and now is no different.  I watch the car fly down the front stretch and dive into the corner, same as a dozen laps before, and it suddenly hits me what I’m doing.

I’m waiting.  Loyally standing by and waiting for him like a forgotten puppy when the master’s away.  What keeps me here?  What is this attraction he holds for me when it’s clear that I’m not what he wants?  I need to stop this.  I need to end this because the continual “going through the motions” like everything is the way it used to be is hollowing me out inside.  I’m losing myself more and more everyday and I need to get away.

Toss the clipboard to my feet and stand suddenly as the 24 passes down pit road and heads for the garage again.  Turn to Todd to explain myself the way I always have before only to find he’s more focused on tire sheets then on what his driver’s wife is doing.  Tear the head phones off my head and they soon join the clipboard as I move off the box, suddenly needing to be anywhere but here.

Climb down the ladder from the pit box, almost falling over myself in my haste, and then turn for the garage.  Easily make my way through the crews on pit road with practiced ease and before I know it I’m in the dimly lit garage, wandering around slowly, by myself. 

I don’t really want to go back to my coach, not with all the mixed memories I’ve made there lately.  I don’t want to see anything belonging to…either of them.  I don’t want to think about why I’m still pining over Kevin or why I’ve invited Jeff into my bed.  I just want to go home.  I just want to be alone….

But I’m not.

I can feel the eyes on me as I stop in the darkness of the empty garage.  I can feel the want in the cool night air and I feel myself start to fall.  What once was release starts to feel like lead weights on my ankles and I know whose eyes are on me even before I turn around.

“I thought you were still scuffing tires for your teammates,” I tell him as I finally see his silhouette in the darkness and I feel a slight shiver run through me.  He comes closer, eyes locked on mine, and I feel his anger that I know must be the result of being out of the car as the rest of the field continues to circle the track.  For an instant the intensity of his eyes almost scares me but then in a flash it’s gone, darkness replaced by something more primal, and I feel myself pulled down a little more.

Like a predator he stalks toward me and I can smell the scent of the car and heat of the race on his skin--something that always drove me wild…when it was Kevin.  Now I just give over to the heat of him as his hands move to my waist.  I may be sinking…but at least I’m still alive.

“I’ve done enough for them tonight, I think,” he tells me smoothly and tilts his head, brushing his face against my neck.  My hands move up and through his hair of their own accord and I can’t stop myself from arching against him.  This is wrong.  I know it is.  But if I don’t let him pull me all the way down, it’s ok…right?  Gasp as I feel his hot breath at my ear as he finally continues in that same bedroom voice, “Now I’m going to do something for you.”

Feel his eyes run over my body, lingering over my halfway unzipped firesuit, as he leans back and I know he wants me.  His hands run up my sides and feel myself shiver again, but this time in growing desire.  He fills a need, saving me from being alone, but as he starts unzipping the front of my firesuit part of this almost feels like violation.  But right now…I want to be violated.

Shake out of the heavy fire retardant fabric as he pushes it down my arms and sigh softly as his head dips to kiss along the low cut neckline of my thin camisole.  Feel his thumbs brush over my nipples, hardened from desire and the cool air around us, and I hold his head to my chest as he kisses wet trails across my skin.  I want to be defiled, desecrated.  I want to be lost to his heat…if only for a little while.

Throw my head back and groan softly as his wet mouth sucks at my breast, only the thin satiny fabric separating him from bare skin.  God he has such a sinful mouth.  But that’s what this is, right?  Sin?  A breaking of vows and promises whispered in reverence what seems so long ago?  Of course this should be exquisite debauchery at its finest.  Hands slide under the back of my wisp of a shirt and suddenly the cool October night doesn’t feel so cold.

“Jeff,” I moan his name in a husky voice I barely recognize as I force myself to stay with him and not get lost to fantasies of what could have been.  He is my damnation and I won’t allow myself to believe otherwise.  I won’t let him pull me down into illusions of something more.

Slowly, with strong hands holding me against him, he moves me backward until my ass hits a low stack of tires and the race, the track, is suddenly all gone.  All I hear is the blood rushing in my ears as he starts pushing heavy fabric down my legs and I can feel the wetness pooling between my thighs.  Moan softly, throwing my head back, as I feel his hand cup me through damp panties and again as his thumb brushes over my clit almost gently.  He really is nothing but sin.

Hands at my waist and I follow his unspoken request and use my hands to push up on the stack of tires behind me.  Force myself to stare into dark blue eyes, refusing to let myself see green, and let him push me back with a hand between my breasts.  Then I’m threading my fingers through his hair again as he moves that wicked mouth over my breasts again, sucking and nibbling at my nipples as his thumbs hook in my panties and pull them down.

A muffled sound of a zipper, the rustling of heavy fabric and before I know it I can feel his need, hard and insistent between my legs as he spreads them wider.  I’m panting now as an aching need pulses deep inside me, a low throb with every heartbeat.  I whimper as I feel his cock sliding through my wet folds, rubbing again my clit and I can’t take anymore.

“Jeff, please,” I gasp at him, arching back even more until the back of my shoulders touch the hard rubber underneath me.  My hands run over his arms, sliding over hard muscle and bare flesh as the top of his firesuit hangs around his waist and I need more.  Then finally, finally he relents and rocks his hips forward, thrusting deep inside me, and I can’t stop a soft cry from falling from my lips.  “Oh, yeeeeessss.”

Slow, powerful thrusts and I cling to his shoulders as his hand runs between my breasts and lower, finally slipping under my shirt to caress my skin.  Both hands slide up, squeezing and caressing my breasts, teasing and rolling my nipples between fingers, and I have to stifle another cry as his twilight eyes watch me writhe beneath him. 

Watching me.  He’s always watching me so close as if half of his desire is caused by my own.  It’s dirty.  It’s violating, more intimate than it should be as he seems to strip me bare with his gaze.  But as one of his hands slides down to begin stroking my clit in time with his thrusts…I don’t care.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells me in a desire laden voice and I know he means the words.  That’s one thing he’s never let me doubt is my own desirability.  He makes me feel wanted, if not needed, and I can’t blame him for not making me feel loved.  But he does make me feel sexy and that’s better than nothing.

Wrap my legs tightly around his waist as his thrusts become harder and I reach up to hold tight to his forearms as throbbing tightness spreads through my womb, pushing me to the edge.  His hands, his mouth, his cock so easily manipulate me into a squirming mass of want and desire.  Heart pounding, chest heaving and I can feel the tension wind its way through my body as I rock into his thrusts and against his hand.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasp and I arch back more, letting out a low guttural cry as forbidden ecstasy crashes over me and consumes me completely.  Shake and tremble under him, muscles fluttering uncontrollably around him as his hands move to my hips and he pounds into me harder.  Cling to his shoulders as I feel his hot breath on my skin and his movements suddenly become erratic and wild.  And then he’s there with me, stiffening and shaking, a low groan reaching my ears as he leans forward and buries his face between my breasts.

Stoke his hair slowly, long and damp, as we both struggle to catch our breath.  Feel his rough cheek nuzzle against my soft skin and I finally unlock my legs and lower them from his waist.  Desire quickly cools, even as he rests against me, and the garage and track suddenly start to close in, narrowing in my field of vision as the fuzzy bliss dissolves in front of my eyes.

And I hear the whispers again.

Soft in my ear with a haunting quality I hear them, memories that refuse to be forgotten.  But I can’t touch them, can’t really hear them and I try to push them all away.  But I can’t.  Not when I swear I feel green eyes on me, watching me, wanting me, pulling me under.

He pulls back slowly, first adjusting himself and then he begins to slowly dress me as I continue to be lost in my mind.  Gentle hands move over my body but it’s the eyes that I swear I feel on me that sends the shiver of fear down my spine.  I feel like we’re being watched but I know it all has to be in my head.

“It’s ok,” he tells me softly as he pulls me up off the tires and into his strong arms.  I feel him tug my firesuit up around me and I realize he might think the cool night air is the source of my trembling…and I don’t correct him.  Rest my head on his shoulder as he holds me against his chest and I lean into him, seeking strength from his touch. 

Soon the race will be over.  Soon he will be gone for another week and soon I’ll be on my way home to be alone once again.  Part of me wishes I could just let myself get lost, just let myself let go.  But I can’t.  Not yet.

Now, I can’t even stop the whispers.

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Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com