Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(97)

Taylor opens the door for me and Joe offers his hand. As we get closer to the building, the lights suddenly come on and I understand where Joe has taken me. A small smile creeps across my face and my body shakes with excited anxiety. Looking to Joe, I nod my willingness to move forward.

“Welcome back,” the manager greets, pushing the door open. “I’m glad to see you’re willing to take another shot at it.”

“Thanks,” I hesitantly greet.

“Which one did you want to start on?” the older man asks.


My attention is drawn to his name tag. “Let’s get this over with, Bradley.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a smile.

As we wait for Bradley to get a two person go-kart out from the line, my fist hurls through the air and jabs Joe in his chest. He doesn’t flinch, but I see a small flicker of pain in his eyes when he looks down at the spot where I hit him and back at me.

“That’s for earlier,” I mention. “For not stopping Jared and Nathan.”

“Feel better?” he checks.

My arm punches him again in the same spot. “A little, yes.”

Joe takes the hit like a man, but I can see that I really did hurt him and wince a little after the fact.

“You sure you’re ready?” Joe asks, buckling me into the contraption.

“No,” I reveal. “But, I know I need to.”

Joe nods and then fastens his belt. “I’m going to go slow at first. Let me know when you want me to go faster.”

“Okay,” I agree.

“Gas,” Joe says pointing at the pedal closest to me. “Break.” His hand gestures to the pedal on the left.

“Okay,” I confirm.

“You only use your right foot,” he instructs.

“Why?”

With a sweet smile, Joe says, “If you use both at the same time, you won’t go anywhere and just burn gas and potentially damage the vehicle.”

“Got it,” I comment.

“Hunter will be following us just in case,” Joe mentions. “Count down and I’ll go on one.”

I nod. My gaze stares blankly at the narrow winding road before us. Joe takes my hand and kisses it. Our eyes meet and his expression calms my nerves and shifts my emotions into pure desire. I lick my lips and begin the count. “Three . . . two . . . one.”

Wind whips mildly through the loose strands of hair that don’t fit into my pony-tail as my gaze stays fixed on Joe’s face. My heart races from the adrenaline surging through my veins and heat gathers in my groin. Joe looks over at me on occasion, smiling when our eyes lock.

“Faster,” I instruct.

My hair dances around a little more and I force myself to look forward. “Faster,” I command, guiding Joe’s hand between my thighs.

Joe’s head sharply turns in my direction.

I quickly look behind us to see how close Hunter is, finding that he’s a good distance away and then press Joe’s hand closer to my sex.

“What are you doing?” Joe questions with intrigue.

“Trying to associate good emotions and memories,” I inform. “Faster.”

Joe’s foot presses down more on the pedal, sending my back into the seat. “You okay?” he checks after hearing me yelp.

“Mmm hmm,” I agree, biting my lip. I direct his fingers up and down the outside of my pants and I can feel the moisture spread around between my lips.

The go-kart abruptly springs forward. “Sorry,” Joe apologizes.

“Keep going,” I command.

“With my hand or the speed?” he inquires.

“Both,” I inform with a grin.

Joe nods and speeds down a straightaway. He slows a little as we’re about to hit a turn, but picks up the speed again after rounding the corner. We dart around the track several times as I continue to direct Joe’s fingers over my clitoris. The paired emotions of anxiety and arousal grow and I feel my body wanting to cum. My left hand clenches Joe’s thigh as the climax builds.

“You okay?” Joe checks.

“Mmm hmm,” I moan, biting my lip. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” I say.

“Are you close?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I confess.

The orgasm swells inside me faster than I anticipate, drenching my underwear.

When my breathing returns to normal, I say, “I want to drive.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” My body still quivering from the rush.

Joe slows the vehicle down and we stop at the opposite end of the track from the main building. He studies me for a moment. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

I nod.

“I need a minute before standing,” he reveals.

“Why?”

Joe’s eyes lower to his lap and when mine follow, I giggle at the tent he’s pitched in his track pants.

“Another first,” I mention.

With a laugh, Joe confirms, “Another first.”

About five minutes later, we swap seats.

Once buckling us both in, Joe lifts my hands and places them on the steering wheel. “Think of it as just riding a bike with a motor,” he instructs. “The only difference is the way the bike is propelled forward.”