Page 43 of The Champion
I left after that because if I didn’t, I’d never leave.
I knew Jameson and I needed some alone time and not justat our house. It’d only been three days since Charlie’s funeral and we had yetto actually be alone. Every time we thought we may get a few minutes together,someone was stopping by to see if we needed anything.Weneeded alonetime is whatweneeded.
My theories with death and grieving remained the same. Everyonewas dealing with the loss in their own way and it affected everyone in ourfamilies, even Jimi who had to leave the next day for Grand Rapids. I’d neverseen Jimi cry in all the years I’ve known him but when he watched his longtimefriend lowered in the ground, the tears fell, as did everyone else.
Andrea was keeping busy with the twins but it was evidenteverything had taken a toll on her. For someone who usually had a smile upontheir face, it was hard to see her without one.
Jameson was the quiet one with it all, said little butoffered small gestures that meant the world to me, letting me know he was therefor me. I also knew it was hard on him; he loved Charlie just as much as I did.Even though Jameson and I met when we were eleven, Jameson had known Charliesince we bought the track back in 1987. I just failed to realize who Jamesonactually was until I was eleven.
I went through all the stages and finally I was moving onto acceptance, slowly. Nothing I could do would ever bring Charlie or Rachelback. It was out of my control. I still needed to be a mother to my son and Istill needed to be a wife to my husband.
This was why we were nowfinallygoing on ourhoneymoon.
I came to realize through the unfortunate ways of life,that in life, you’re seldom offered a second chance at love or life in general.So you should take them when they come. Being married to a NASCAR driver,you’re seldom offered alone time...sotake it when it comes.
We were sitting there on the plane in a comfortable silence.Jameson was looking over schedules for the track while I read a book onparenting. I didn’t even realize that he was paying any attention to me until Iadjusted my funbags so they weren’t popping out of my dress. Then he waspractically sitting on my lap, gazing at them.
“Wanna join the mile high club?” he asked, looking alittle too cocky.
I smacked his hand away shaking my head.
“You forgot—we already have.” I pointed out rememberingthe time on his parent’s jet when we went to Savannah.
“It’s not the same,” he whispered against my ear in hisperfected dirty heathen seduction voice. “Come on honey, it’ll be fun. I’ll bequick.In n’ out.”
In my head, I was imagining being arrested and sent toGuantanamo Bay or some shit like that for even contemplating doing this. Howwould I explain that one to Axel?
I was all for a little adventure but really, this had badidea written all over it. When he broke out with the dirty engine talking, Iignored my inner warnings and followed his dirty heathen ass toward thebathrooms located in the back of the plane, overlooking the glances of otherpassengers.
Once inside the tiny bathroom, Jameson grabbed onto mywaist, holding me against him. His lips skimmed across my throat. It didn’ttake long for him to be shirtless and writhing against each other. His lipsteased me as my hands explored his flawless body. We were seldom alone theselast few weeks with the funeral and sex was usually the last thing on ourminds. It’d been at least four weeks since we were actually alone intimately inanysort of way.
He managed to get my dress up around my waist and sat mein the sink before his fingers slid inside my panties. I decided to up theante. With a hell of a lot of skill and determination—I was able to not betotallydistracted by Jameson’s fingers and my hand found its way into his jeans. Myfingers skimmed over his sensitive skin of his camshaft for piston stroking,causing his movements to falter. I smiled smugly and used my knees and feet topush his jeans and boxers past his hips.
“Sway,” he moaned.
I knew sex wouldn’t work in here but I knew what would.
A few seconds he had managed to wipe the smugness off myface and replaced it with something that probably looked like near orgasmicshock. My eyes rolled back and I nearly bit my bottom lip off as I shookagainst him.
The touching and teasing became a battle of wills thatwas sporadically interrupted when one of us would become so caught up in theemotions running through our bodies that we forgot what we were doing.
“You feel so good,” Jameson groaned against my neck,tightening his grip and then sinking his teeth into my shoulder. “I’ve missedyou.”
I shook my head arching my body up against his as I movedmy hips with his fingers. “Ohgod...”Jameson added another finger and every coherent thought in my mind was gone.“Jesus Christ!” I yelled entirely too loud for an airplane.
Someone began knocking on the door but we both ignoredit, too caught up in our own personal bliss.
Fortunately, for Jameson, when I was in the middle ofseizing against him, my hand happened to tighten around him. It wasn’t tootight or hard—apparently, it was just right, because Jameson groaned and thrusthis hips toward me while the knocking turned to pounding and loud voice camethrough.
“Dude, I have to go!” More knocking, “Come out already!”
What did my hotheaded dirty heathen do?
He pounded against the door keeping one arm tightlyagainst my waist. “Fuck off!”
“Let go,” I panted against his shoulder.
He nodded almost frantically as his lips found mineagain. Sucking his bottom lip into my mouth, I tried to enjoy his touchesconcentrating on making him feel just as good.
