Dirt Driven (Racing on the Edge Book 11)

didn’t know when it started, or why, but I obliged every time. Parting my lips, I tasted his fingers. A sweet combination of me, and the grease from the engine.
I needed him inside me with a passion even I didn’t understand, but it probably had something to do with us not being able to. It was like a forbidden act we couldn’t complete without waking up the kids. But exhilarating at the same time. The blinds beside my head rocked with each motion, a tapping heard over the air conditioner and the humming generators.
His ragged breath hit the nape of my neck. “Fuck, this is torture.” He moaned into my ear, his voice thick with lust. His throat bobbed. “Fucking torture.”
“I’m not trying to torture you.” I slanted my chin up and kept my eyes on our bedroom door.
His forehead hit my shoulder, his breaths deep and heavy. “Fuck. Let me stick it in. I won’t even move. Please, baby,” he cried. No tears, but dude was straight up begging me for this and who was I to deny him? I couldn’t. Not Rager.
He made his way between my legs, the head of his dick was at my entrance and I’d convinced myself we would be quiet.
Right? Right.
Just as he pushed forward, a cry shrieked through the motor home. “Mama!”
My eyes snapped to the clock next to our bed. 5:00 a.m. Without fail, Hudson always woke up at this time.
“Goddamn it,” Rager groaned, rolling onto his back.
Sitting up, I laid my hand on his stomach. “How quick can you be?”
He lifted his head, his thick dark eyebrows pulled together. “Not that quick. And I can’t with him crying.”
There was something about a baby crying that took the romance out of it. Looked like it was going to be another rough day.

Encoder – Feedback device that utilizes an optical source and sensor to provide velocity and position information in the form of a digital signal; not readily adaptable to different environments.
THUNDERBOWL RACEWAY
TULARE, CALIFORNIA
Lying awake, I stared at the ceiling trying to remember what my lap times were the last time I raced at Thunderbowl. I could hear Bristol’s footsteps before I saw her head peek over the side. Unlike our rowdy boys, Bristol, our only daughter, had a softness about her. From her light walk, the sweetness of her voice and those pretty green eyes that mirrored her mama’s.
My smile formed when I felt the bed dip and her little grunt as she tried to climb up on her own. She’d turned four last month, but getting on our bed had been hard for her. Leaning over, I rolled onto my side and pulled her up onto my chest. “Hey, princess.”
Her dark curls fell into her eyes. Reaching up, she pushed them away. “Hi, Daddy.”
Daddy. That word still got to me. Especially after last night when I asked if Arie still thought of Easton. Like it or not, I would always have a fear that she wanted him back.
Staring at Bristol, I thought about the moment Arie told me the baby was mine. Little did we know we were having twins at the time, but I could distinctly recall the way my heart kicked into overdrive.
“Can we talk?” she asked, her words mumbled.
I laughed, tossing the chainsaw at my feet and kicking the log out of my way. I didn’t have time for this crap with Arie today. And honestly, I was fucking tired of having it. This shit where she was with him but teasing me, I was done with it. I didn’t want any part of it anymore. “Yeah, sure, as long we actually fucking talk. I’m tired of this shit where we avoid everything we’re supposed to say.”
“The baby isn’t Easton’s. It’s yours.” Her words hit me like a bullet to the chest.
Mine?
For months I had gone on believing she’d been sleeping with both of us, but it was then, the very second our eyes met that I knew that hadn’t been the case. Not with Arie. So why did I have this anxiousness now?
Beside me, Bristol curled herself into the crook between my arm and chest, much like her mother does at night. I pressed my lips to her forehead. “You smell like pancakes.”
She smiled up at me, syrup on her cheeks and in her hair. “Mama made them.”
“Oh yeah?” I tickled her sides and ribs. “Did you save me some?”
She squirmed and tried her hardest to wiggle out of my grasp, but I wrapped my arms around her chest and held her arms down at her sides. “Nope. I ate ’em all.”
“Whaaaat?” My jaw dropped open, my scruff hitting her shoulder. “You didn’t!”
“Daddy, let go!” she shrieked, struggling to get loose as her laughter filled through the room.
Burying my head in her hair, I held tighter. “You little pancake monster. Give me them.”
“Never!” she yelled between giggles. “Pace! Help me! Daddy got me!”
Soon I had all three boys on the bed trying to wrestle their sister loose. If there was one thing my little Bristol Bear had going for her, it was the help of her brothers. They would do anything for her. Even Hudson, at only two years old, he would straight up headbutt your ball sac to protect her. Ask Tommy. He stole Bristol’s bike to get a rise out of our sweet girl and Hudson went for the closest thing to him. Which happened to be a tire iron and nailed Tommy between the legs.
On top of me, Pace dug his elbow into my stomach, Knox smacked the side of my face, and Hudson bit my shoulder. “Let her go!” Pace screamed.
“Arie!” I yelled as Hudson took a handful of my hair, all four of them laughing so hard they could barely catch their breaths. “They got me.”
She came around the corner and while I couldn’t see her, with Hudson sitting on my head, I heard her laughter too. This was why I loved this life