“It means,” he says with a satisfied smile, “That we let young upcoming stars take our bikes for a spin around the tract to sort out the ones that hold the potential to join our team.” They’re looking for new riders?
“Are you going to stop racing? Or Sean?” I don’t want to sound too hopeful.
“NO!” he shatters that hope in the seed. “This is for our Moto2 and Moto3 classes, as well as MotoCross.”
“And if things go well, we might open another MotoGP team later.” He always sounds so passionate when he talks about his racing and his team. And even though I am scared that something might happen to him, I don’t think I will ever have the heart to ask him to quit. My hand moves to my tummy again.
I turn in front of the mirror – some jeans, a sexy black top, rounded off with my favorite pair of DMs – not too shabby.
“So, will this work for the girlfriend of the champion?” I pose like a real model and those deeply apprehensive eyes scour my body. He gets out of the bath, glistening wet, with a naughty, sexy, little smile that confirms the wickedness in his eyes. He’s hard again and I swallow down my desire.
“Damion … Don’t you dare -” I hold up a finger as he steps towards me, with immoral intent. His dick reaches me first.
“Thinking what I’m thinking?” A light blush slowly spreads over my cheeks. Cocky bastard.
“If you’re thinking that you’re one vile cheeky asshole … then yes.” He chuckles and runs a hand down his shaft. I lick my lips and flood my thong.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The sound of knocking from downstairs stops him in his tracks. I look at him confused, not expecting anyone.
“It’s probably Mark,” he says covering up his hardwood with a towel. I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or relieved. Guess a little of one and a hell of a lot of the other – I badly want him to take me to bed, but we’re already late as it is.
“I’ll get it,” I tell him as I walk out, thankful to be fully dressed, but scolding whoever is knocking the door from its hinges.
My hand pulls the lever and the door swings open. My worst nightmare is standing opposite me.
I sag my shoulders and roll my eyes at the sight. Big boobs, dark hair, and a condescending smirk are all I catch before she shoves past me.
I can’t stop her cause my mind is still trying to figure out how the hell she got that extra tight slutty dress over those big hooters.
She stops and angles her head over her shoulder, back at me.
“You can go now, little girl. Damion needs a real woman. Momma’s here.” She pats her tummy, and my jaw drops open. Her audacity leaves me without words.
Before I can find any, she trots into the house with her high-heeled Pradas like she owns the place, leaving me choking on her stinky perfume. I want to puke.
What does this bitch want now? White hot jealous anger burns through my body and scorches some brain cells back to work.
“Damion, it’s for you!” I bellow out at him and he walks down the stairs, almost dropping the towel covering his goods.
Several emotions flicker through his eyes – surprise, annoyance, anger – to name but a few – however, his face is cold and devoid of emotion. I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms, knowing by now that an indifferent face on any of the boys means a storm is brewing.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Chloe?” The ice in his voice sends shivers down my spine. And not in a good way.
“Oh, baby,” she seems completely unaffected by the bite in his words. “We need to talk.” She takes a trying-to-be-seductive step forward, a cool calculating look in her eyes – eyes that lock hungrily on my man’s privates. Heat flames through me. They’re mine.
She walks closer to him with swaying hips, ignoring me as if I’m not even in the room.
“Talk fast, I have someplace to be.” He clings tighter to the towel as if making sure it stays in place. The boy seems uncomfortable in his own skin – the cockiness of before completely vanished. It’s completely adorable and I fall a little bit more in love.
“That’s why I’m here … to go with you. Daddy is already there. I just want things between us to go back to the way they were.” She crosses her arms over her abundant fake boobs, pushing them up close to bursting from her tight top. I peer at my boyfriend, loving the disgusted look on his face. He really is not into the meal thrown at him.
A new emotion blooms into my heart – trust. I realize I can trust him. He’s not going to fuck around. It feels as if my insides are going to explode and an uncontrolled smile spreads from ear to ear. I just can’t help it. He loves me too.
“Chloe, I’m going with my GIRLFRIEND.” He spotlights the last word, clenching his fists as if trying not to punch the girl. Strangely, I have the same urge. I also realized that Chloe for sure has some kind of brain-dead complication. And no pride or dignity.
“So cut the bullshit and just get the fuck out of here!” Venom wires his voice. I’m plainly pissed.
Pissed that she just waltzed in here. Pissed that she acts as if I’m invisible. Pissed that she exists.
With a ball of anger, I push myself from the frame, rage palpitating from me in waves.
“Enough is enough … it’s time for you to learn your place.” Chloe’s face turns into a pompous hateful expression as she lets out a toffee-nosed laugh, turning slightly to look at me as if I’m something the cat dragged in.
“Listen, doll, you’re not even his type. Why would he pick you over this?” She gestures at her body with a confident smile.
Chloe tosses her hair back and towers over me as if that would put me off. A bewitching grin ghosts over my face as I drop my head backward to eyeball the melon-bloomer with a smuck attitude, enjoying her sudden shocked hesitant expression. I grew up with Jackson, bitch. You don’t scare me.
She swallows and stutters, “Damion like brunettes.” Her comeback sounds pathetic, her ego definitely took a dent. I confidently look at her with a winning sneer, knowing the truth behind that statement.
“Well, he just did this blonde, and like they say … when you have had a taste of excellence, you cannot go back to mediocrity.” She’s now totally spooked.
“I’m not medo … medi … mediocre,” Chloe struggles with the word while pushing out her lips. I roll my eyes at Damion, who is silently watching from the stairs. I know he’s ready to intervene, but he’s giving me some room to get this bitch out of my system.
“Oh, but you are. I’ll give credit where credit is due, but I’m not going to applaud a frog for croaking.” I cross my arms cause I’m itching to strangle the bitch. “You’re inconsequential, bitch.” I can see that she doesn’t have a clue what that means, so I add “You’re nothing.” to clear it up for her.
Dean struts into the house, past both me and Chloe, and up the stairs where he shoves a finger under Damion’s nose.
“What the fuck, Grimm?” he shouts in a high-pitched voice. “Couldn’t keep your dick in your pants and now we’re sitting with a fucking pregnant girl!” The words drown in the sudden silence of the room.
I turn as white as Olaf from Frozen and grab the wall beside me to keep me from falling over. How the fuck did he find out? This is not the way I want him to find out.
Damion looks like he’s been kicked in the balls. I watch the bewilderment in his eyes as the meaning of what’s been said vibrates through him. He grinds his teeth and his free hand not holding the towel, flexes and fists at his side. It takes a beat for him to catch his breath.
“What the fuck?” He glares at Dean, then his eyes land on me.
I’m still clinging to the wall in a way that would make Spiderman jealous, my eyes glaze over and I’m starting to worry if I’m having a seizure or something.