Free Beyond The Checkered Flag by J.D. Wylde Page A

who sings like an angel and sets me on
fire with just a look. And I love her and want to spend the rest of my life
with her.
    “And I’m sorry. You had every right to have a life – a
relationship. I was wrong to have said the things I said. To have acted like I
did. My only defense is that I love you, Lauren. And I was insanely jealous.”
    “Oh, Bobby Wayne,” she whispered as her eyes went soft as
velvet. Her hand gently touched his hair and his cheek and shoulder. Like she
was checking him to make sure he was okay.
    “You obviously cared about that man. And enough,” he quickly
went on when she opened her mouth. “Enough to have built a relationship with
him. And I was jealous,” he told her. “Because I wanted that with you.”
    “You have that.” Her hand slid across his chest, the palm resting
right over his racing heart. She breathed deep, her perfect tea-cup breasts
pushing out. And then she looked up at him and all the love he could ever want
was illuminated in her eyes. “I never loved Jeremy,” she softly told him. “Not
like I loved you. And I knew when I came back home and you kissed me, I knew
with one kiss that I could never continue to see him. That he and I were
through. Because it has always been you, Bobby Wayne. Always you. And it will
always be you.”
    “So,” he pulled her close. Wrapped his arms low around her
back until they were touching from lips to knees and all the good places in
between, their breaths mingling and their hearts beating against each other. “I
guess I found out what’s beyond the checkered flag.”

Chapter 11
     
     
    One year later…
    The infamous picture of one of racing’s best kissing one of
country music’s finest was framed and hanging on the wall in the living room of
the new home Bobby Wayne and Lauren Forsythe now owned on the Virginia/North
Carolina border. Size wise, their new home was a far cry from the grandeur of
Harrington House, but in Bobby Wayne’s opinion perfect since he could now have
his wife on the kitchen counter whenever he got the urge. At least until she
escaped his advances and he had to chase her to one of the five bedrooms.
    She was good at running. But he was better at catching.
    And the chase in between was more exciting than racing for
the cup.
    “Bobby Wayne?” The front door opened and closed. His love was
home. “When did you get back from Bristol?”
    “A while ago,” he called out. He still owned Forsythe Racing,
although Donna, ex-wife number one ran the day-to-day operations. The daughter
of one of NASCAR’s great drivers, and a respected driver herself, she was well
qualified. And their arrangement gave him more time here at home with Lauren.
    His angel in question walked into the kitchen looking
beautifully windblown and smelling of fresh air.
    “Top down on the ride home?” He’d finally convinced her to
buy American. Well, actually, he’d gifted her with a Chevy Camaro ZL1 as a
wedding present. And the 6.2 liter supercharged stock engine packing 580 horses
was rarely stabled.
    She eyed him up leaning barefoot against his favorite
counter. “What are you doin’?” she warily asked.
    They were still working on Lauren’s trust issues. He wanted
to work on a couple other things, too. But they had the rest of their lives
together.  “Waitin’ for you, sugar,” he casually replied, waggling his eyebrows.
“It has been three days, ya’ know.” The maximum time allowed without them
seeing each other.
    “Oh, no.” She put up a hand, palm out. Like that would stop
him.
    “Sugar, it’s been three days,” he reminded her.
    “I don’t know what your obsession is with that counter top,
but I’m not falling for it.”
    He grinned. “ You’re my obsession,” he told her as his
grin grew bigger.
    Her eyes dipped down to his groin where his dick was happily
growing bigger, too.
    “I’m not having sex with you on that counter.”
    “Okay,” he easily replied, pushing away from it. He walked
toward