Chapter 7- Crashing

                                    

                                          
I woke up the following morning with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I was excited to see Ryan race, excited for my first race, yet nervous because I didn't know what to expect. I know it's dangerous, hell, my father was killed in a racing accident. I tried to convince myself that was different. Ryan was a driver in the top level of the sport with top notch safety equipment. I didn't know much, but at least I knew that.
                          
I tried to climb out of bed as quietly as I could, as to not wake Ryan, but I felt his hand on my thigh before I could leave the bed.
                          
"Where are you going?" He asked, his voice raspier than usual from sleep.
                          
"Shower and make breakfast." I replied. 
                          
"No. Not yet. We've got nearly two hours before we need to get moving." He said, and pulled me back onto the bed with him. 
                          
The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. 
                          
His fingers stroked my heat as he kissed me senseless. Fuck I was going to miss this. Miss him.
                          
"Say something in Italian." He murmured as his lips broke free from mine.
                          
I thought for a minute as I bit my lip. "Metti il ​​tuo cazzo dentro di me ora."
                          
"Fuck, that's sexy. What does it mean?"
                          
"Put your dick in me now." I grinned. 
                          
"God I love it when you talk dirty." He said with an audible moan. 
                          
"Yeah, well actions speak louder than words." I ran my hand along the curve of his ass. 
                          
"But the words are so sexy."
                          
"Mmmm. So are the actions." I moaned, as in one thrust, he filled me completely.
                          
Knowing this was our last time together, since he would be going back to North Carolina after the race, I vowed to make the most of it. Although I had made enough memories to last a lifetime over the last few days, I was greedy and I wanted more. I wanted to be the one he thought about when he took another woman to bed. I wanted to be the one he compared all future lovers to. I wanted to be the one he dreamed about at night. I knew he would be the one I thought about. I also knew no one else would ever measure up to him. Ever. 
                          
He kissed me so softly as he moved slowly in and out of me, and I literally melted, as I felt that kiss all the way down to my toes, as if we were reliving our first night together, thinking we would never see each other again. 
                          
I ran my hands up and down his back and sides, re-memorizing the feeling of his warm skin, his toned back, strong arms. Everything I could touch, I touched. Everything I could kiss, I kissed. 
                          
My orgasm snuck up on me, faster than I expected, and I clung tightly to him as he kissed me through it. 
                          
I never wanted to let go.
                          
But I had to, and I did. All too soon, it was over. A moan, a breath stealing kiss, and his warm semen filling me. 
                          
He seemed reluctant to let go as well. It was understandable. We had shared an amazing, unforgettable weekend together. 
                          
Maybe we would see each other when NASCAR returned at the end of August. Maybe we wouldn't. If we did though, would we still have the same spark? The same connection?
                          
"Do you want to shower first?" He asked softly. Was it just me, or did he sound choked with emotion? I could have suggested we shower together, but I had seen just how tiny the shower was. Besides, I needed a few moments to pull myself together, get my emotions in check.