Fast & Hard (The Fast 1)

“No no no no no no no,” Francisca waves her hand back and forth and shakes her head. Her words crash together in that beautiful rhythm I have never been able to recreate, no matter how many Spanish classes I took in high school. “No, all wrong girl, all wrong.”

Tatiana crosses her arms and nods in agreement with Francisca, adding in a sassy “mmm hmm” while pursing her lips at me. “You want Lennox, not Digby,” she adds.

“I don’t want either of them,” I chuckle. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Good, more chances for me,” Francisca laughs and slaps my hand. I’m so glad I haven’t really upset them, they’re just passionate Gibbes defenders, much like the fangirls online. “Anyway, break time is over, we have to get back.”

“It was so nice chatting with you both!” I tell them hoping we’ll be able to do this again.

“Come back anytime, girl, we’re always in here!”

Today is getting better and better. My boss is happy, I found two new coworkers to chat with, and Lennox did not bite my head off or make any crass sexual comments about me.

Yet.

???

“Whispered something in your ear. It was a perverted thing to say. But I said it anyway. Made you smile and look away.” - Cigarettes After Sex - Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Lennox Gibbes?” I whisper into his ear at the autograph session I’m trying to pry him away from right now.

He’s sitting behind a covered table with a box of Sharpies and I have just watched him spend an hour with an ongoing line of fans at the track who are queued up waiting their turn to have photos and hats and tee shirts signed by their favorite driver. The other drivers all did their scheduled twenty-minute sessions but Lennox has been here for an hour. He’s had a smile on his face and made time for every single one of them.

“Stop speaking in riddles, Mallory.” He answers, continuing to sign and take selfies with each person waiting for him. He’s also stuck to his word and is calling me by my real name.

A very buxom blond is next in line and is bouncing with excitement, her low crop top straining to contain her implants. They must be implants, otherwise, at their size, her breasts would be down to her knees, not aiming toward the sky. Security lets her step up and she rounds the table and starts lowering her frilly blouse even further. Lennox doesn’t bat an eye and stands so he can sign her chest as she claps and squeals. Cell phone cameras from the crowd start turning his way to capture Lennox and the bare boob incident that is about to unfold.

“Nope, tops stay on please!” I interrupt and put a hand between the woman’s chest and Lennox’s Sharpie.

The woman huffs and protests but security is on top of it. I only get a death glare from Lennox as he signs her phone case instead.

“You’re a real buzzkill, you know that?” He says.

“Get your fill of silicone on your own time, preferably behind closed doors.” I dismiss him.

“I’m not a silicone kind of guy, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you prefer saline?” I clap back.

“Since you asked, I like natural tits, Mallory.” His gaze drops to my chest and his deep voice lowers and he speaks slowly right next to me, “a handful of soft, natural tits. Fucking perfect.”

“There are children,” I scold him, as his stare slowly raises back up from my chest.

“Better hide those hard nipples, then,” he says and turns back to the waiting crowd.

Oh my hell, my traitorous nipples are peaked and visible through my polo. Damn you, boobs, damn you to hell! I turn my back for a second and smooth my hands down the front of my shirt trying not to be obvious and give him even more satisfaction of knowing how he made my body betray me. It’s the deep, gravelly voice and that damn accent. My nipples were powerless.

When I turn back around a second later, he’s occupied with the next fans in line, a parent and a little boy in Celeritas team colors who is so excited he cannot speak and is so nervous he looks on the verge of tears. He can’t be more than four years old. It’s adorable.

Lennox crouches down on his knees and urges the tiny fan to come closer. Clutching his dad’s hands, the tiny fan carefully starts toward Lennox and extends a Celeritas children’s hat to be signed. Lennox signs it and talks sweetly to the little boy and gets him smiling within moments. Before I know it, the boy is being swung upward in Lennox’s big arms onto his shoulders and the proud papa is snapping photos of this once in a lifetime moment for his son.

They scurry off after getting their shot and my mouth is agape. Why is he so nice to other people? Where is the pig that I’ve been working with?

Before he sits back down at the table, he towers over me and whispers, “Don’t be jealous, you can ride on my shoulders later.” My mouth clamps shut but I’m still bewildered about what’s happening here and I’m keenly aware that his vulgar comments don’t seem to offend me much anymore. More troubling, my attempts to deny what they do to my body when he whispers filthy things in my ear are getting harder to keep at bay. I’m only human.

I need to get my head on straight.

“Last person, Lennox, we have to go.”