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Chapter Eight
Holt
I was used to not seeing much of Watson during race weekends, but now that we were together—or whatever this was between us—it was absolute torture. I wanted alone time with him, but I knew it would hours before that was going to happen once we got to the shop.
After our brief meeting, Watson and Mason left with car owner Rick Dalton while I had to stay behind with the rest of the crew guys. That was probably the worst of it. Having to watch Watson leave without me. I knew it was stupid because I would see him again in a few hours, but what if Mason convinced him to go out? What if he ran into some stupid girl who he thought was cuter than me, or what if he—
“Walker!” I flinched at Miles shouting my last name. “Now is not the time to daydream! Get your head out of your ass and keep it in the game. We have a big weekend ahead of us. Watts needs you.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir,” I mumbled, trying to ignore the snickering around me. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. I really had to get my head in the game, or I was never going to get through this weekend.
By the time we flew into Nashville later that day, it was nearly eight o’clock, and I was a bundle of nerves. I checked my phone when we boarded the plane but hadn’t received any texts from Watson, which only made me more anxious. When there was nothing from him when I stepped off the plane? I felt sick to my stomach. His normal routine when NASCAR drove into town, after tech, the inspections, and interviews was to go out for a night of fun. Find some girl he could get lost in but wouldn’t get too clingy. Had he gotten restless waiting for me and decided to do that instead?
I hiked it to our RV, which was parked between Mason’s and Finn Cooper’s, ready to find it empty and have my heart broken in two. But when I opened the door, my bag slipped off my shoulder and landed on the floor with a thud at the glorious vision sprawled out before me.
“What the fuck took you so long?” Watson growled.
My mouth opened, closed, and dropped open again, but no words came out. He sat on the small couch in the living room totally and completely naked with a pint of his favorite Baskin Robbin’s ice cream on the table next to him.
“Well, I guess my surprise worked.” He grinned. “Come. Here.” He crooked his index finger at me.
I was on him in a second, my hands in his hair, my lips on his, and the groan that escaped Watson’s mouth was all I needed to hear to make all my worries fly from my head.
“Missed you,” he told me as our kiss deepened and our tongues slicked together. I didn’t want control. I wanted Watson to have it all. I wanted him to dominate me, take me, have me, and do whatever he wanted with me. I was his forever and always.
He slipped his hands up the back of my shirt causing me to I tremble at his touch.
“I missed you more,” I promised.
I let Watson tug my shit up over my head, only breaking our kiss for a second before bringing my mouth back to his. His eyes were heavy with lust and longing as he slid me onto my back so he could undo my zipper.
“Fuck, Holt.” He groaned as he slowly pulled my pants down to my thighs. My hard-on was ready to break through my briefs. Watson dragged a finger over my cock. “You want something from me, baby?” He bit down on his bottom lip.
I nodded my head.
“Tell me,” he murmured. “Tell me what you want me to do to you tonight, H.” He pressed soft kisses against my jaw as he moved down my body. Watson met my gaze. “I need to hear you say it, baby.” He ran a finger over one of my peaked nipples, and I groaned softly. “You like that?” He dropped his head to lick at it before he grazed it with his teeth.
My hips bucked up against him like they had a mind of their own. “Watson,” I whimpered. “Do that—God, do that again.” I gripped his blond strands between my fingers.
