Mom wouldn’t let me fly back.”“I understand. Thank you.”Kimber sat up straighter. She smiled. “Well, where are you taking me?”“Huh?”�...I don’t dress up for any guy. I only look this good when I’m being taken out.”“You’d look good in old, stinky sweats,” I countered with a grin, thankful for the change of subject.“You think so?” she asked, her eyes bright, a smile playing across her face. “Then, why didn’t you call me?”“That again? You’re nothing but persistent.”“Yes I am. You haven’t answered. I give a soft laugh as I notice the smirk on his full lips. That other southerly wandering hand slides around as I feel him probing the split in me, wiggling a little to part the hair. I’m whimpering quietly, my hands resting delicately on my lover’s head, fingers brushing through his hair. He growls against my breast, ‘Hmmm, so wet already?’ Another blush rises to my cheeks. ‘I bet you taste good too.’ I gasp as he raises himself from me, leaving me grasping at the open air for him.. When this evening happened I was 26 and trying to make a living as a stock car driver. I had one sponsor that paid most of my cost to travel and maintain my car and a couple of other smaller ones that about paid my tire bill, entry fees and gas. In effect my purse money was mine although I did give the crew members part of it when I did well, to augment the salary that I was able to pay them from sponsor money. I had started by racing in mini stocks and street stocks several years ago. My. Her heel scraped against the stone and her ankle wobbled. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she lurched forward. She tumbled down the stairs, her face pale, her arms flailing helplessly. It all happened so suddenly that he didn’t have time to make a sound. His arms were outstretched, as if he could catch her. She was lying face down at the bottom of the stairs, breathing in short gasps, trembling all over. He ran down the stairs, muttering a prayer. By the time he got to her, she was trying.
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