Racing Hard (Dirt Track Dogs Book 4) by P. Jameson Page A

dug into his scalp and her shorts chafed his shoulders.
    Her release was beautiful. It was late summer sunsets and mountain views in the morning and the goddamn blue water of a tropical beach. And he’d made her do it. Him.
    Satisfaction like he’d never felt filled him. He was lost to her, lost to his mission to make her feel good.
    “Surge,” she said, but her tone had changed. She yanked at his hair but something about it didn’t feel passionate.
    He stared up at her, dazed. “What is it, baby?”
    Her eyes were wide with shock, and that’s when he heard the rapping on the window.
    Hello, Officer Cockblocker.
    Holy fucking shitballs.

Chapter Seven
     
    If it was possible to fly to the moon and never leave Earth it could explain the feelings Tana just experienced. She’d felt wild and free, yet anchored. Held to the ground by Surge’s powerful arms and magical lips. Safe and liberated. As if anything was possible.
    Her mouth was stuck on open as the horror of getting caught started to sift through the euphoria.
    With a smirk, Surge pulled her shirt lower to cover her still throbbing sex and reached around to roll the window down a crack. The one behind her head. And there was nowhere for her feet to go but up in the air.
    Shit . This was… this was…
    Really freaking funny if she was honest.
    “Good afternoon, officer,” Surge drawled, with his head still between her legs.
    “Yeah, I bet,” he said dryly. “Can I ask what you’re doing out here?”
    “Well, uh, you could .” Surge squinted, pretending to think about it while Tana bit her lip to hold in a giggle. “But I think it’s sorta obvious.”
    “Mm hm.” The officer didn’t sound amused. “And I suppose I could ask to see your license and registration… except then I’d have to wait for you to untangle yourself from this gal’s shorts and I have a barbecue sandwich waiting in the car. So, why don’t you two lovebirds just do an old man a favor and get outta here?”
    Surge nodded. “Yes, sir. I think we could manage that.”
    The officer grunted. “Manage it quickly, would ya?”
    Surge raised the window as the man walked away. His gaze met Tana’s. He raised one eyebrow and they both busted up laughing.
    It should’ve been awkward. Her sprawled out, exposed, caught mid mind-shattering orgasm, his grinning face within licking distance from her lady bits, but it wasn’t. It was comfortable. She felt utterly normal with Surge even in the craziest of situations.
    “Oh, kitty cat,” he sighed. “I do like your laugh.”
    Her heart squeezed at his sincere words. She brushed a finger over his cheek and traced his lips.
    “I like yours too.” It was true. His laugh made him unique. And now that she could read his intention behind it, there’d be no more misunderstandings.
    He dropped a quick kiss to her stomach. She felt the zing of it even through the cotton of her shirt.
    Ducking under her shorts, he sat up but didn’t take his eyes from her exposed sex. His gaze made her burn again, but Mr. Police Officer was waiting patiently for them to pull out.
    Surge watched as she pulled her shorts around her hips and buttoned them. “I swear to god, this truck is going to die happy after this. Your ass, pressed bare against the seat? I wish my face could be so lucky.”
    Tana’s cheeks went molten lava red. “Surge!”
    “What?”
    “You can’t say things like that.”
    “Yes, I damn well can. Told you, I say whatever I want. Besides, I spent all the bastard morning watching that ass. I can’t be expected to hold things like this in.”
    She watched him adjust his jeans. The bulge at his crotch was substantial and not the least bit softening after their encounter with the police officer.
    “I know.”
    “Know what?” He slouched in the seat, hissing as he tried to get comfortable.
    “That you were checking out my ass.”
    He looked up at her with a sexy cockeyed grin that made her heart stutter. “I knew it. No one shakes their