Full Throttle

CHAPTER ELEVEN

RHETT had driven to Shawn’s faster than was strictly legal.

He wasn’t afraid of a lot in life—not snakes or spiders or confrontation—but his mother still scared the shit out of him on occasion.

This would be one of them.

God only knew what she was saying to Shawn. Or worse, what she was asking her.

He had promised Shawn Chinese food but he was way earlier than expected, and he’d take her out to dinner as an apology for being subjected to a sneak attack from Sandy Ford.

Damn it. His mother’s car was still in the driveway. Not good.

He was covered in motor oil from being jostled by Travis, an eighteen-year-old kid who was nervous and still learning his way around a pit crew. But he was not going to disappear into the shower until he had a good measure of Shawn’s misery and he could politely send his mother home.

When he entered through the side door, kicking off his dirty boots on the rag rug, he heard something unexpected. Shawn and his mother were laughing. He had expected cold tension, his mother voicing all her objections to their impulsive marriage, while Shawn pursed her lips in stoic silence. But no, they were yucking it up in the living room. What the hell could be so damn funny?

Coming around the corner, they both looked up at him in surprise.

“Oh! You’re back early,” Shawn said. She didn’t look like it mattered one way or the other to her.

“Rhett,” his mother said, her expression . . . guilty? Her reading glasses were perched on her nose. “I stopped by with some muffins for Shawn, and we’ve been making wedding-party plans. Her girlfriends just left.”

And that was funny?

Feeling suspicious, he skirted the coffee table and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Thanks for stopping by, Momma.” When he wasn’t there. And when she had never met Shawn before.

His mother wrinkled her nose. “Good Lord, you smell bad enough to gag a maggot. Go change your clothes, and then we can show you what we’ve been up to.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

But he did have the urge to kiss Shawn. To show her and his mother both that he was relevant here.

So he came around to her side of the couch and gave her a smile that she could interpret however she liked. “I got off work early because I missed you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise but before she could respond, he kissed her. Not a brief kiss of greeting, but a firm, drawn-out kiss that put a pink tinge to her cheeks. “I’m sorry I stink,” he told her as he straightened up and out of her space.

“I don’t mind,” she said. “You smell like gas and rubber. I associate those scents with speed. Winning.”

It was the kind of answer that made him wish his mother were nowhere near them. If she weren’t, Rhett would have eased Shawn back onto that couch and peeled down those yoga pants to show her what winning really felt like.

But his mother most definitely was three feet away and Rhett nodded, turning abruptly so neither woman saw his growing erection. Screw dinner. He wanted Shawn more than lo mein noodles.

In the bedroom, he stripped off his smelly clothes and pulled on a clean T-shirt and jeans. The dirty ones bunched in his hand, he came back down the hall and asked, “Where is the washing machine, Shawn? I’ll throw these in.”

“Oh, here, I’ll show you. Excuse us for a second,” she told his mother. “It’s in the basement.”

She led him through the kitchen and down the steep stairs to the cold and poorly lit basement laundry room. “Sorry, it’s gross down here.”

He could care less. He flipped the lid on the washing machine and dropped the clothes in. “Listen, I’m sorry about my mom. I had no idea she’d just show up here. I hope she didn’t give you too much of a hard time.”

Shawn shook her head. “She’s being really nice, which is almost worse. She’s happy for us, and I feel like a jerk.”

“She’s happy?” That was something of a head-scratcher. His mother had nearly had a heart attack when Nolan had eloped with Eve. She had ranted and raved for days.

“Yeah. She says she wants you happy and that since you’re not impulsive, she trusts that you know what you’re doing.”

That was interesting. His mother trusted him to choose his life partner wisely. Maybe she knew him better than he had realized.

Though she clearly didn’t know what was really going on here.

“I feel like shit, Rhett, honestly.” Shawn poured some laundry detergent in the machine on top of his clothes, looking flustered. “I didn’t know how bad I would feel about lying. I didn’t think about it at all, frankly.”

Rhett moved in behind her and brushed her hair off her shoulder so he could kiss her neck. He didn’t like to see her so stressed. He didn’t particularly like lying to his mother either. But his interest in Shawn wasn’t feigned, and he intended to focus on that. “This isn’t a purely business transaction, you know. We are having a relationship.” His erection grew as he pressed her against the machine, her pert backside a soft cushion for his thighs.

She shivered. “Rhett . . .”

“Yes?”

“It’s not the same thing,” she protested, even as her ass angled to give him a better position, his cock resting between her cheeks.

“No, it’s not.” He nibbled on her ear, loving the delicate skin there. “I don’t want you unhappy, Shawn. If you want, we can pull the plug on all of this. Right here, right now. We can say it was a mistake, and walk away.”

While he waited for his words to sink in, he ran his hands down her sides, letting one reach around to stroke down between her legs, the cotton pants giving him access to every curve of her body. He bit her ear gently, then soothed it with his tongue.

“We can?” she asked, growing breathless, her hips starting to rock back and forth, teasing her clitoris against his hand, and brushing her ass into his erection.

“Of course we can. We can do whatever you want.” He actually would be disappointed if she said she wanted to annul their marriage and forget this whole thing had ever happened. He tried to tell himself it was because then he wouldn’t have access to her in bed every night, but there was more to it. He and Shawn hadn’t finished exploring each other, physically and emotionally. There was something there between them, besides sex, and he wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but he was curious to find out.

“I’ll lose the track,” she murmured.

“Yes, you will. And you’ll lose my cock,” he added, before slipping his tongue into her ear.

She gave a small gasp. “I will?”

“Yes. If we end this marriage, then it wouldn’t make sense for us to see each other again. I’m not designed that way. I’m either all in or all out.”

“It’s a lot to lose.”

He could only hope that longing was at least in some small way for him along with her family business.

“It is. But it’s your choice.”

“I started this. I need to finish this. It’s not fair to you otherwise.”

Rhett turned her around so he could see her. He laced his fingers through hers. “Shawn. This is about what you want. Don’t do this out of fairness or concern for me. Do what you want, what’s right for you.” He meant that. He wasn’t worried about anyone’s opinion, and he saw no sense in doing something you already knew you would regret. Life was too short.

She stared at him for a second then gave a short nod. “You’re right. I’m already in. I want to stay in.”

The relief he felt surprised him. So he buried his hand in the back of her hair and tugged her to him. “The passion between us is real. That’s all we have to show people.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Very real.” He kissed her, a deep, plunging mating of their mouths, a demand and a promise all at once. He wanted to bury his cock in her the same way, a wet tangle of desperation. As soon as he felt her give in, her arms snaking around his neck, he broke off the embrace. Establish control. Choices outside of the bedroom were hers, but sex was his arena.

She gave a moan of disappointment.

“We need to go back upstairs,” he told her with a swat on her backside. “Come on.”

Her eyes darkened at his touch, and he knew she was remembering exactly what he was thinking about—his palm slapping against her bare flesh, her bottom raised for his pleasure, for her punishment.

They were so not finished with what they had started.

Last night had only been the beginning of what he could make her feel.

As he took her hand and pulled her up the steps, he felt the hot, thick taste of anticipation in his mouth and something else he couldn’t define.

SHAWN let Rhett hold her hand as they walked up the basement steps, more confused than ever. What had she just agreed to?

To continue this sham of a marriage, deceiving everyone important in their lives. For what? The track? Was it really that important to her?

Weren’t the people in her life more important than a business?

But the truth was, they were all intertwined in her life. Business was pleasure and the track was the people she had grown up with, driven with, worked with now. Racing was her life, and it was to the majority of the people she considered the important friendships and influence on her life.

She also didn’t want to lose Rhett. Not yet. Not when she was experiencing something she never had before, not when she was realizing that there was a world of pleasure she had never even tapped into. Not when she was curious as to what was happening between them, wondering how far it could go, wanting to see what made Rhett tick as a man.

Plus, she also had to admit, that just for a little while, she wanted to borrow Rhett’s family. She wanted to belong, to fit into a large, boisterous family who cared so deeply about one another. She missed her grandparents, and her brother and mother were no cure for the void. In fact, her mother was quite the opposite. Being married to Rhett, Shawn got to voyeuristically fill up her familial well, and while that was no doubt wrong of her, she couldn’t help but enjoy it now that she was in it.

Even if it meant wedding-party planning.

Rhett’s mother was on the couch, scrolling through her cell phone. She gave them a look that indicated she knew precisely what they had been doing. “Did you get lost?”

“Shawn was just showing me how to use the washer.”

Sandy snorted. “You know how to do laundry. You’ve been doing it since you were six. But I understand, you’re newlyweds. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Oh, you don’t have to leave, Sandy,” Shawn protested, embarrassed by how long they’d been gone and remembering that she had seen her vibrator earlier. One afternoon and her mother-in-law knew more about her sex life than she cared to contemplate.

But Sandy waved her words off. “It’s time for me to go home and cook for Senior. He gets cranky if dinner is late.”

“What were you two laughing about anyway?” Rhett wanted to know. “I’m a little scared to find out.”

“We were looking at designer tuxes from these bridal magazines the twins brought,” his mother said. “They’re ridiculous. I don’t know a man in Charlotte who would wear a skinny tux in red.”

Shawn grinned at Rhett’s expression. He looked like someone had suggested removing his testicles.

“Neither do I,” he said emphatically.

“And I showed Shawn a baby picture of you we might use for a slide show.”

“Oh, Lord,” was his opinion. It was accompanied by a wince.

“We scheduled a photo shoot for you on Thursday out at our house,” Sandy continued.

Now Rhett looked like he had indigestion. “A photo shoot? For what?”

“For your wedding announcement.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. Then louder, he added, “I’m not photogenic, you know. Do we really need to do this?”

Shawn grinned, feeling a whole lot better now that he was aware of what she’d been subjected to all afternoon. “You’d take better pictures if you smiled.”

He glared at her.

Sandy nodded in agreement. “That’s what I always tell him!”

“I can’t smile when someone is shoving a camera in my face. It’s so fake.”

“Well, buck up,” was his mother’s final opinion. “You’re doing it. What are you going to tell your kids someday if there isn’t a single picture of the two of you together?”

That knocked the grin off Shawn’s face. Kids? Good God. The unexpected image of a couple of toddlers bouncing on their bed popped into her head. For a split second, she could have sworn she actually felt a fluttering in her womb, like it was yawning awake after a lifetime of slumber, shaken to awareness by the idea of procreation with Rhett. Holy crap. Not good.

“I don’t have an answer for that, honestly,” Rhett told his mother.

“You are going to have kids, right? And sooner rather than later. I understand that Shawn is already in her thirties.”

Huh. The fluttering stopped. In fact, her uterus might have cringed in horror at that reminder.

“Mom!” Rhett gave his mother a stern look. “I’m not discussing our procreation plans with you two days after our wedding. In fact, I’m not discussing our procreation plans with you ever.”

Because there would be no procreation plans.

She should feel relieved.

Instead, she just felt unsettled. She was only thirty-three, or would be in two weeks anyways. That was young still. She had a decade before the factory would shut down. Or at least seven years. Four, if she really wanted to have the best shot at a quick conception. Two, if she didn’t want to be considered high risk.

Holy shit.

When had this happened? When had she even cared about having children? Now she was suddenly realizing that by the time this marriage with Rhett was over, she would have to start over dating, as a divorcée, and then who knew when she could even contemplate starting a family?

“That doesn’t change the facts. Shawn, you want children, right?” Sandy asked her.

Unable to speak, she simply nodded, her stomach in knots.

“Then it’s silly to wait five years. Rhett wants kids, too.”

She cleared her throat and managed to choke out, “Rhett is only twenty-five. Maybe he’s not ready.”

“Then he shouldn’t have married a woman almost ten years older than him. Your fertility is dropping like a stone as we speak.”

Now she was officially speechless. Sandy made her sound like her eggs were petrifying, ovaries deflating like a fallen soufflé. She had never felt quite so old or quite so past her expiration date.

“Mom.” Rhett used a tone that brooked no arguments. “That is way out of line. You’ve hurt Shawn’s feelings.”

Sandy did look contrite, but Shawn still felt stung, with no clue what to say.

“I’m sorry, dear, that didn’t really sound right, did it? It’s just that children are such a blessing.”

“We’re not having nine, I can guarantee that,” Rhett told her.

Hell, no. Because even if this were a real marriage, which it wasn’t, Shawn was clearly too old to have nine kids unless they were three sets of triplets. God, she had a headache again. The aspirin from the morning had clearly worn off.

“And you already have enough grandkids to bankrupt you at Christmas, so just chill out. Let’s just focus on being married for a while, and getting to know each other and each other’s families.” Rhett gave a rueful look. “If Shawn is still interested in getting to know the Fords after that introduction.”

“Shawn knows I just have your best interests at heart, don’t you, dear?”

She nodded, even if she had no idea what Sandy’s intentions really were. “Of course,” she managed to say.

Rhett still looked put out. “Momma, if and when we get pregnant, you’ll be the first to know. Otherwise, I’m telling you with all the love in my heart to butt out.”

“Your brother would never talk to me like that,” she sniffed. But to Shawn, her expression looked like she wasn’t genuinely put out. If anything, her love for her youngest son shone through. She admired him for standing up for his wife, it was obvious.

“No,” Rhett agreed. “But he wouldn’t let you make Eve feel bad either. He would just say it in a more charming way.” Rhett turned to Shawn. “And now you’ve witnessed the Ford family dynamic. I’m sorry to say you did not get the charming brother.”

Something stirred in Shawn that she did not want to examine too closely. “No, I got the loyal one.” Leaning over, she kissed his cheek before she could stop herself.

She had the satisfaction of seeing that she had actually caught Rhett off guard. That wasn’t easy to do, yet he looked downright sheepish. His mother was beaming.

“And on that note, I’ll leave you two to your dinner and newlywed shenanigans.” Sandy gave each of them a hug.

Shawn hugged her back and tried to forcibly shove the phrase if and when we get pregnant out of her head. This wasn’t what she had signed on for, but what was more disturbing than anything was her confusion and reaction to marriage, babies, family. She must be missing Pops more than she realized. Or the sex had gone to her head.

As Rhett walked his mother to her car, Shawn busied herself shoving the bridal magazines into a pile and cramming them into the desk in the corner of the living room. Then she carried dirty coffee mugs to the kitchen and filled the sink with soapy water.

“You’re always doing dishes,” Rhett said when he came back in. “Why don’t you use the dishwasher?”

“It’s broken. I don’t have the money to replace it.” It was a hated chore, but then again, weren’t all chores hated by most people?

“What’s wrong with it? Did it actually die, or it’s just not getting dishes clean?”

“It’s not getting the dishes clean. There’s dried old food on them after an hour of water spritzing them. It makes no sense.” Though she wasn’t sure why they were talking about this.

“The jets are probably clogged.”

Before she realized what was going on, Rhett was on the floor, dishwasher door open, parts being inspected. “Where are your tools? I need a screwdriver.”

Was he for real? Shawn swished her hand to make the suds inflate. “You don’t have to fix my dishwasher.”

“It’s no big deal. It’ll take me ten minutes.” He smiled up at her. “Besides, if you’re washing dishes ten times a day, it’s going to cut into our sexy time.”

Oh, geez. She should have known. “I’m not planning to be horizontal the majority of my day. I don’t think doing the dishes is going to ruin our sex life.”

“Just a little insurance.” He stood up and kissed the back of her head. “Where is the screwdriver? And a drill would be helpful.”

“In the basement. Next to the washer and dryer.” She should have left it at that. But she wasn’t wired that way—she was a button pusher. So she added, “And who says I have any intention of having sex with you again? Just because you fix my dishwasher doesn’t mean I will lie down for you any time. I may need some convincing, you know.”

He stopped on his way across the kitchen and studied her. “You like to play this game, don’t you? You want me to get aggressive and throw you down on the floor and prove you like my attention.”

Maybe. “No, of course not. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Hell, the truth was, she did want him to throw her down and make her forget that they were married. Which was messed up, she had to admit.

“Liar.” He laughed softly. “But the answer is no. Because I don’t dance on a puppet string. If you want me to fuck you, just ask and I’ll decide if I want to give it to you or not.”

Shawn felt her jaw drop. “You’ll decide? Oh, you’ll decide? Screw that!” Any sort of tender feelings she’d been having toward him disappeared pronto. She was sorry she’d let him gag her. Shawn Hamby was not to be gagged. She had things to say, damn it. Opinions that mattered. “I am not the kind of woman who is going to beg you for sex.”

“Who said anything about begging? I meant I think you’re strong enough to ask for what you want without dancing around in passive-aggressive style. Don’t hint, then expect me to do all the work. It doesn’t suit you.” With that, he went down the basement steps.

Shawn was tempted to throw a coffee mug at the back of his head. “Asshole,” she muttered in frustration, and it felt good. She didn’t understand him. At all.

Wouldn’t he want her to be sly about sex? Wasn’t that the point of a man who wanted to dominate? She was supposed to be coy and shy, and he was supposed to grab her and do her? He was right, she was willing to play that game. But this one? She didn’t even know what game they were playing, let alone what the rules were.

Which pissed her off. She didn’t like to lose. She was a born competitor.

So when he came back upstairs with tools in hand, knelt down, and leaned into the dishwasher, she couldn’t let it go. “I thought you wanted to do the work. I thought that was the whole freaking point. So what am I supposed to do, Rhett? What am I allowed to do? Not that I ever agreed to be your submissive, but what does a submissive do exactly if it’s not flirt, beg, hint, or demand?”

His head popped out of her dishwasher. “You’re supposed to trust me. You’re supposed to trust me enough to be honest and direct with me.”

It wasn’t an answer that was going to satisfy her. Ever. “How is this for direct? You can sleep in the guest room tonight.”

Rhett didn’t say anything, which further annoyed her. He just fiddled and unscrewed and pulled something that looked like a dead mouse—holy shit, was that a mouse?—out of her dishwasher. Shawn waited until he had dropped the pile of yuck he was holding, expecting him to answer her. But he didn’t.

“Aren’t you going to answer me?”

“I wasn’t aware that was a question,” he replied.

She threw her soapy sponge at him. “Don’t be a smart-ass.”

The sponge bounced off his knee, leaving a trail of suds down his shin. He didn’t even look up. “You told me I’m sleeping in the guest room. I told you that this is your house, and I’ll do whatever you say. So I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

That was a deflating response to her anger.

No. She definitely did not understand Rhett Ford.

“What happened to ordering Chinese food?” It was an emotional hook to hold on to her anger, she knew that. Was fully aware of how juvenile it was. Yet couldn’t stop herself from seeking some sin to lay at his feet.

“I came home early. But I can order it now if you’d like. I can go and pick it up.”

Said the man very respectfully as he fixed her dishwasher. She was stymied. “We can just get it delivered.”

Finishing the dishes, Shawn dried her hands off and reached for her cell phone. While Rhett worked, she found herself dialing for delivery, asking him what he wanted.

By the time the food arrived, he had finished with the dishwasher and was washing his hands. “We can test it with the Chinese food dishes,” he told her. “But it should run just fine now.”

“Thanks.” Because she was grateful and sheepish and uncomfortable. What was happening between them? It was something. It was nothing. It was nothing she’d ever encountered and nothing she understood.

She wanted to trust him, but to what end? She didn’t know. And she wasn’t quite there yet.

While eating, they talked about the track schedule and about Rhett’s car and who to hire as a marketing director. His advice was sound, his tone respectful. After watching the cup series race on TV, Shawn went to bed.

Alone. Rhett just said good night and gave her a yawn, still on the couch.

It should have felt like a victory.

Instead it just felt unsatisfying. Like diet ice cream.

In her PJ bottoms and a USC T-shirt, she poked her head out of her room and called down the hallway, “Do you need help moving tomorrow? I can come to your apartment and help you pack, or clean the apartment, or whatever.”

“No, that’s okay,” he called back. “I’m sure Nolan and I can handle it.”

That wasn’t satisfying either. “No, really, I can help.” She wasn’t a total bitch. She was helpful, a hard worker, a good friend. She just didn’t like being told what to do. But she could offer. “You want the apartment clean or you won’t get your deposit back.”

“Yeah, Nolan would probably appreciate that since it’s his.” Rhett was just in her line of view, even though he was twenty feet away. She couldn’t read his expression. “Thanks, Shawn.”

“You’re welcome. And thanks again for fixing the dishwasher.”

“My pleasure.”

She hovered in the doorway, feeling like an idiot. Then she said, “Good night,” yet again and retreated, closing her door behind her.

When she climbed into bed, she swore she could smell him on her sheets.

The vibrator stared at her in the dark from the nightstand, mocking her, while her vagina berated her for being so stubborn.

Maybe her pillow would like to insult her while they were at it. Shawn punched it so it wouldn’t get any ideas, and threw her head down, feeling bitter, determined not to think about Rhett.

So far marriage was a dress that didn’t fit her.

She’d much rather be naked.

With Rhett. Naked, him thrusting into her again, her cries trapped by the tight fabric over her mouth . . .

Uh-oh. If this was her not thinking about it, this was going to be a long night.

Because she knew from experience that he would not come into her room.

And she was right. He didn’t.