Free High-Speed Hunger by Shady Grace

 
     
     
Chapter One
     
     
    The racetrack buzzed with the roar of engines. Dust clouded the humid air as wheels spun out, and rear ends fishtailed on the dirt track. Drivers pushed their Sprint cars to the limit, fighting each other for the lead in a wild race toward the finish line.
    Eileen Lavoie shielded her eyes from the blaring afternoon sun and watched Bobby Donaldson overtake the lead car. Having earned top spot on several occasions, Ragin’ Cajun’s lead driver was considered the best Sprint racer in the state of Louisiana.
    Reckless behind the wheel was an understatement for him, but his carefree style—or maybe lack of brains—made him a beast on the track. Coming in second or third wasn’t good enough, and even though his moves were considered dangerous, Bobby was on top of the game.
    A flash of yellow from the pit below caught her attention. The crew moved in tandem, putting away the equipment. Her gaze halted on the new guy. The view from above was delicious. God , the man had a body any hot-blooded woman would kill to touch. Broad and tall with supple, dark skin, and an ass that screamed for a firm grip—
    She jumped when loudspeaker static from the commentator announced the last lap. Bobby flew past the checkered flag, and the crowd went berserk.
    Sprint cars raced around the last turn and punched it down the straightaway. Several cars bumped each other trying to force the other off the track. She knew the spectators would love a crash, but today’s race was a breeze compared to the World Bandit Cup. If the crowd wanted smoke and flames, the championship would be the race to see.
    Bobby blew past the finish line with the second place car kissing his ass-end.
    Why couldn’t she focus on him and not the beautiful specimen of man fit to be eaten in those yellow coveralls down below? The manager should be focused on the track and the spectators rather than lusting for the new guy.
    Tyrone Ellis .
    Even his name sounded sexy.
    According to her father, Ty had grown up on a racetrack in Jamaica but hadn’t driven for a few years. Despite the confident way he carried himself around the shop and his easy camaraderie with the team, she knew deep down Ty was just a quiet man who kept to himself. Hard to imagine a competitive spirit in the guy. But his easy smile made her body heat in all the right places, especially when he spoke in that rich and smooth accent. Every time words came out of his luscious mouth, a tingle sluiced through every nerve ending, like his words caressed her.
    Eileen blew out a shaky breath and turned back to the racetrack. Bobby sped onto center field and did a round of doughnuts, kicking up dirt and punching the air out the car window with a mighty fist. Always the show-off for the crowd. She glanced at the stands, amused yet a little put off by the girls lifting their tops and jiggling their tits for him.
    “Well, we done good! Didn’t we, LeeLee?” Her father leaned against the railing and watched the field.
    “Always, Pop.”
    Jonnie Lavoie—retired and legendary Sprint car driver—smiled through his thick, white moustache and set his big arm over her shoulder. Excited over another win for the team, Eileen gave his weathered hand a pat. For a long time it was just the two of them running the team, and being here with him at a moment like this was more than any dream come true. But taking care of him had added more years to her life than she wanted to admit. Pop’s drinking had progressed since becoming a widower five years ago. She had spent too many nights taking care of him, driving him to and from the hospital, or picking him up smashed from the bar. The last time she had a full night’s sleep seemed so long ago.
    Pop pushed back, holding her at arm’s length. His wise eyes crinkled at the corners while he stared at her. “You need a vacation, baby girl.”
    “Why, do I look tired?”
    “You work too hard. You need to pamper yourself for a change.”
    She cupped her