Commitment Collection 2- Ignition; Turbo Charged; Pole Position, page 18
part #4 of Commitment Series
“Oh, well, I just assumed, I suppose.”
“But life moves forward. We had a blast together, but I won’t be there when it starts up again. And don’t be upset with Kyle. I asked him not to mention anything to you. I wanted to speak to you about it face to face when the time was right.”
“Kyle knew?”
“Yeah, I said. But don’t panic. It’s not like there is a timeline on this. I’m just letting you know that in the long term I may not be around, that’s all.”
I swallow, lost in the revelation.
“So, I could take on a new trainee and get this initiative kick started. I would love to choose someone who wouldn’t ordinarily have had a chance and create a mini-me.” Her tone changes so that she’s speaking with an evil tone. It doesn’t suit her, and I don’t react.
How many other people that I trust will be thinking the same? That they’ll stay as long as it takes to get me up and running and then they’ll move on too?
It scares the shit out of me. In the same way I’m stronger with Kyle at my side, the same also applies to my hand-picked team.
“Right then. There’s no time to delay. Get on with finding someone to help you out. Someone great with masses of untapped potential and give them a chance to create something for their lives. Like you did.” I jab her in the ribs with my index finger. “I’m glad it’s working out between you and Idris. He’s a good one. And I appreciate you being here now. I know you don’t have to be.”
“No, I do. I wouldn’t be anywhere else, but you’re going to make a huge success of this team, and you won’t need me then. Not if I do my job properly now.” She leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “Look at you. Elliott Judd, the cocky racing driver everyone wanted to beat, taking hold of a failing team and building it into something extraordinary.”
She lifts her butt off my desk and walks to my door, closing it behind her when she leaves. I sit there in my swivel chair behind my desk and for the second time in as many days, it hits me, not only what I’ve taken on, but also what we’re on the brink of.
Kyle
“We’re having a night out. We’ve been beyond busy, and we’re going out to let our hair down. Get ready and I’ll pick you up when I finish.”
I'm not taking no for an answer, and Elliott isn't in the mood for arguing anyway. We’re not going anywhere special. Just for a meal at a local restaurant where Elliott will more than likely get accosted several times over, but it will be a change of scenery from the factory and from either the RV that we’re calling home, or the building site upon which we’re currently living.
I’ve been away having a meeting down at our old house, ironing out a few last minute details with Daisy and the developers she’s hired. It’s been a good day and I’m feeling great. I’ve reserved the table for 7 pm so that it won’t be so busy, and we at least will have some time before the restaurant fills up with people who recognize Elliott and have no compunction in interrupting his evening for photos that they’ll share with their friends.
To be fair, since we’ve moved into the area, sticking to locally run places has been a strong strategy because they’re often frequented by other locals, who after the first time or so, turn a blind eye.
I don’t know what it is. Perhaps because we’re both distracted with other things, but when I beep my horn and Elliott steps out of the camper, I’m floored by his appearance.
He’s wearing jeans that perfectly mold to his body and a fitted white shirt that accentuates the tan he’s achieved thanks to daily outside training sessions. Elliott Beaumont-Judd is stunning.
His buttermilk blonde hair is wildly tousled and as he steps outside, a gust of wind catches it. He runs his fingers through his mane, tucking a delicious curl behind his ear. It’s a simple gesture, just a practical act against mother nature, but it’s one that should be in a slow motion clip. He steals the breath from my lungs, such is his presence. Nothing has changed from that first time I saw him.
As he turns to lock the door, a habit he’ll never get out of, I follow the white trim of his shirt, allowing my gaze to linger on the tight mound of his lovely lean ass. My mouth waters and when he turns again and hops down the steps, jogging around to the passenger side of our vehicle, I swallow down the greedy need to touch this man in all the places that will make us late for our date.
He leans across the console to drop a kiss on my lips. He’s wearing a new cologne. It’s fresher than his usual earthy tones, and I inhale as his shaven chin glances over my skin for a kiss.
“You smell delightful.” I catch his hand before he’s settled back, holding him halfway between my seat and his own. “And you look so sexy. I love the freshly groomed look on you, Mister Beaumont-Judd.”
“Well, my husband promised me a date. I had to make an effort. I’ve put my best underwear on and everything.”
I laugh. “You don’t wear underwear.”
“Exactly!”
“Tease.” I ram the car into gear and spin off to the restaurant, eager to get tonight underway. The sooner we start eating, the sooner we finish.
Elliott
The meal is delicious, and I don’t even get accosted more than a few times which is a wonderful turn of events, but it’s the quality time together, sitting opposite each other with nothing else to do but talk, that I cherish so much. No distractions are allowed. Kyle ordered me before we left to leave my phone at home.
It felt alien at first, like I was missing a limb or something. But actually, once we got into the evening, I didn’t miss it at all. Kyle and I were too busy chatting about anything and everything.
“I hear that Jessie mentioned to you that she wasn’t planning on staying with us indefinitely.”
“She did mention it, but since she’s not leaving now, there was no need to say anything to you. She wanted to speak to you about it when the time was right.”
“Yeah, it’s OK, I understand. But the time was right earlier, and she’s bringing in someone who she will train up.” I fill him in on our earlier conversation.
He tells me about his day with the developers and how “Daisy is being spectacular.”
“Good, I’m pleased you guys are getting along better.”
“I can’t wait to start as your number one mechanic though. It’s not long now. Another few days, and I’ll officially be able to get lathered in grease again.” He bites his bottom lip.
“I can’t believe you! We’re sitting here enjoying a perfectly civil meal and all of a sudden you throw that curve ball at me. How do you expect me to get through my dessert now with that on my mind?”
“Don’t order pudding.” It’s a taunt. “But, I think I may...” Definitely a taunt. We’re playing that game again, then, are we?
“Oh, well in that case, I think I’ll have the chocolate strawberries.” I wave our waiter over before Kyle has the chance to drag me out. If he wants to play, we can play. I place my order and stare at him with the devil in my eyes, waiting for him to select his option.
“I cannot believe you,” he hisses as soon as we’re alone again.
“Why, am I playing your game too well?”
“Oh, you might be, but later, you’ll be begging for it to end. Just you wait.”
“Promises, promises, Mister Beaumont-Judd.”
I make a show of eating my strawberries when they arrive, licking at the chocolate, biting the end off the strawberry, and licking the juices escaping from its inside. The scene is not lost on Kyle, who shifts in his seat several times, but knows better than to encourage my performance with a comment.
“Can we have the bill please?” he asks the waiter as soon as the last piece of fruit is off my plate. I scoop up some molten chocolate on my finger and dive it into my mouth, sucking every last drop.
And finally it’s time to take off. I laugh. “I can’t stand up and leave yet. You’ll have to wait.”
“I’m glad you said that. I was working out how to hide my hard-on after your game playing.”
And so we sit until there is no longer a need.
Kyle
He’s going to pay for that performance. As soon as we’re by our car, I make out like I’m being all gentlemanly and walk him around to open the car door for him.
Except I’m anything but gentlemanly and body slam him against the closed door, pinning his body between mine and the metal. I plant my hands on either side of his head as I crush my lips against his, plundering my tongue into his mouth, biting at his lip, sucking his tongue, devouring him. He tastes sweet, like the chocolate, and bitter from the wine.
He grinds against me, pushing his knee between my legs and working his solid mass into my hip. Forcing back against me with all his might, he presses his shoulders away from the car, and his arms wrap around my back, locking together behind my shoulders to bring me closer until we’re fused together in one hot, fucking embrace.
That tight shirt that’s been driving my carnal desires crazy all night has to come undone. I rip the buttons open, shrug it over his shoulders and breathe as I finally run my fingers over the hard body it's been protecting all evening. I sigh as my fingers linger over the steely rise of his pecs, glance over the buds of his nipples before heading south to his chiseled washboard.
“We’d better get in the car,” he purrs, low and gruff. His chest moves beneath my touch as I bend to taste the salt from the skin of the man I adore.
I step back and open the door. “Get in, but don’t dress,” I order.
When I hop in the driver’s seat, he’s removed his shirt and is sitting, pants open, cock exposed. “Is this good enough for you, sir?” His face is the picture of mock wide-eyed innocence.
“Oh, I think I could get used to this,” I lick my lips.
“Open your pants. I want to take care of you while you drive.” Elliott leans over without waiting for me to oblige, undoing my jeans and stripping my briefs down.
“This is horny as fuck, you little deviant,” I grin at him, starting the engine and putting the car into drive.
“You don’t know the half of it. I’m just getting started.” I feel his words whisper over my naked cock as I exit the parking lot, praying we don’t get pulled over in the two-minute journey to our back road. He sits upright again, but leaves a hand working lazily in my lap. His other matches the rhythm in his lap.
As soon as I’ve pulled off the main road and onto the gravel path that takes us to our camper, I stop the pickup with a squeal. His hand doesn’t falter as I rummage around in my wallet for the small envelope of lube. Ripping the packet apart with my teeth, a sinful grin splashes over his features as he waits for me to empty it into my palm, before beckoning him to come and straddle me.
He’s already toed off his shoes and kicks off what remains of his jeans with a fervor that has my cock begging to be inside him. And then I lather that lube over him. I spread it over his cock, down his balls, and make a slick path to his puckered entrance, where I linger.
He’s hovering over me, legs spread wide, waiting for me to push inside him. I press against him with the pad of my thumb. He grabs the base of his dick and fists it, his back passage pulsating as I tease him with the expectation of pressure.
“Ahhh,” he moans when I eventually allow him to feel me pressing inside. He powers against my two fingers, using his quads to control his thrusting, and when he’s ready, he lowers onto me and we both groan, frustration at the tension that has burned between us all night, finally being satiated. My nails dig into the flesh of his hips as we move as one, his hand still fisting his cock to the same rhythm.
And when my eyes close out that beautiful face, the thrumming of my heart too much to concentrate, I am lost in the heavenly frenzy of hot pulsing. As I contract and push, he sucks me deeper with convulsive gasps until we collapse, laughing and relieved.
For now.
Elliott
Jessie has been working hard with schools to find candidates to short list and has narrowed the selection down to five for an interview.
“Do you want to meet them as well?” She asks while we’re grabbing a salad in the cafeteria one lunchtime.
“No, it will just delay everything if I’m involved. My calendar is mental. Go ahead. You’re going to have to train them anyway, so ultimately it’s down to you.”
Big mistake. I mean humongous mistake.
In walks Axel Grant, a good-looking kid of no more than sixteen with more gel on his head than is left in the pot. He’s suited up in black with a white shirt and slim black tie. He’s made an effort and for that I can’t fault him.
“Hi, sir, pleased to meet you.” He stands fiddling with his hands which he clasps in front of his body.
“Hi, Axel, I’ve heard lots of good things about you. A little less of the, sir, though. I’m Elliott. Pleased to meet you.” I hold out my hand to shake his, and his palm is predictably sweaty. I’m pleased about this; if it weren't so, then he wouldn’t care enough.
So far, so good. The meeting continues like this. It’s only later when the real Axel comes out of his shell that things falter between us, and I wish I’d been involved in the interviews from the start. For now, I’m impressed.
“Axel will be shadowing me for the first two weeks. He’ll be getting to know people, spending time with them, and understanding the business. It would be great if we can put a slot in with you, Elliott,” Jessie already has her phone poised to make the appointment.
“Sure, that’s a great idea. How about spending a day with me? That way you’ll get an overview of what’s involved in running the organization.”
“That sounds sick.” He grins, and he has a cheeky glint in his eye, but I miss it as he turns to check that this is OK with Jessie.
“Sure, go ahead,” she says.
“Well, there’s no time like the present. Do you want to leave him with me now? I have to go down to the garage later anyway, as it’s Kyle’s first day.”
Axel looks, eyes wide, from Jessie to me and back.
“You can have a look at the cars.” I tip my head, asking, but assuming he’ll love that.
“Yep, there’s nothing we can’t reschedule. It’ll be a great first day, Axel,” she smiles, that warm smile of hers and I’m reminded that this is also the first day of me losing her.
Pushing the thought aside, I turn to Axel, her replacement. “So, what did you do that made Jessie here choose you over the thousands of other kids who applied to be where you’re standing now?”
“Uh...” His eyes roll into his head. The poor kid probably can’t remember his own name right now, let alone what he did that was good enough to end up here.
“He’s a natural,” Jessie replies for him.
Kyle
I’ve been checking every movement at the door since arriving. It’s stupid because Elliott and I live together, but still, my world lights up when he enters the room. And being here, head mechanic over a team of people I don’t know, is just flat-out odd. And it would be nice to have his energy there by my side, at least for a few minutes.
Finally, he appears. With Jessie’s young trainee in tow. They make a beeline for my office, and I could cheer, even though I’m not in it. I’m out, elbow deep in grease on the floor.
“Hey!” It’s odd seeing him down here in a suit, rather than the casual clothes he used to wear to work when he was a driver.
“How’s it going?” He doesn’t wait for my reply. He knows it’s too soon for me to say. “I have someone for you to meet. This is Axel. It’s his first day, too. Axel, meet Kyle, our number one mechanic. He also started today.”
They make the necessary introductions, and I see Kyle eyeing him. He’s not sure. There’s something about this kid that throws him off balance. I don’t think anything of it, though, and carry on with the routine of walking around the garage, talking about the car. I get Kyle to explain how tuning different parts up can alter the handling, which can massively change the race results. And then we’re off, back up to my office, for a meeting about engines.
“You spend a lot of money here. You must really care about what you do.” Axel comments as we trudge back upstairs. It’s sad not being able to sit downstairs watching Kyle work in the garage like I used to. I guess I could move my office down there. This whole business is supposed to be set up around that machine he’s working on, so it could make sense that I’m in the thick of it. Especially when I’m driving again.
“Yes, we do. It’s expensive. It can cost up to $40m a year to run a team, and that’s after sponsorships have been accounted for.”
“That’s a shit load of dough, man. Are you able to sleep well at night?”
“Yeah, because without the interest that we generate in the sport, we wouldn’t employ race track staff. We wouldn’t have food vans at the races, the campsites would go out of business, before you even start with the people we employ here in the development teams. And don’t forget the benefits here support global communities. Our investment does a lot of good around the world.”
“Hmm, possibly.”
What the heck does he mean, 'hmm, possibly?’ He's a kid. It’s fucking fact. Instead of screaming in his face on the kid’s first day, I ask, ensuring to keep a measure to my tone, “So, do you have experience of that then?”
“A little with being homeless, it kind of gives you a different perspective.”
