Page 51 of Narrow Margins
I can’t believe the difference another week has made. It’s been ten days since I was ‘outted’ and nothing much has changed. I have yet to reply to Pipes, I’m not sure what to say, forgiveness is tough but I’m no longer stupid enough to throw away years of friendship over it. I have my happiness with Corrie and I know what we have is real. If—and it’s still a big if—I go back to racing, I know I’m going to have to give a press conference and deal with the questions on my relationship with Corrigan but we are not at that stage yet.
Corrie is a genius at finding the best teams to speak to and has had a cell phone in his hand or against his ear constantly; I had to pull it from him and turn the damn thing off last night simply to get him into bed.
The idea of building a smaller, lesser known team appeals to me: I don’t give a shit about my old team. Corrie has avoided talking to them but word is getting out and, as we follow the race forums, my name is being mentioned more and more. Not because of my sexuality, that seems to be ignored for now, but the excited buzz of fans wanting to see me back on the circuit.
I’ve been working today, Troy and Raff have me in the studio as I start promoting the latest clothing range and it is amazing, the designers are geniuses. I feel comfortable in these clothes and would buy them myself. I chuckle as Raff clicks the shutter repeatedly; I don’t have to buy them to wear them.
“Okay, Griff, keep that grin going, we’re on the last run now.” Raff stands up and moves back as I’m rushed by makeup and dressers.
I strip unashamedly in front of them, I’m not shy and they all know I’m with Corrie. I glance up when I hear the door open and see the object of my desires strutting towards me. A scowl develops on his face, making me falter; I haven’t a clue what I’ve done wrong.
“Hey, baby, what’s up?” I smile and step into the dress pants being held out for me.
“Put some fucking briefs on, Griff, the only person allowed to see that ass is me” Corrie walks between me and the poor girl holding the clothes.
“They ruin the line, apparently, so I had to wear this.” I look down at the black jock strap I’m neatly tucked into.
“Then get changed in fucking private.” Corrie stares at me for a moment then scans the length of my body. “You can keep that on when you get home and I’ll teach you a fucking lesson.”
My dick pulses and I take a step away from my man before I get hard in front of all these people. Corrie runs his palm down the front of his jeans and I smirk when he catches me watching him. “You are so much damn trouble, Griff Broderick.” He shakes his head and inhales deeply.
“Did you want me for something or did you just want to see me semi naked?” I ask, winking.
“Yeah. Bill Simmons Racing have been in touch again and really wants to arrange a meeting, Bill himself wants to talk to you. You happy to meet with them?” Corrie strokes my arm, trailing his fingers until they tangle with mine.
“Really? Yeah, we can meet them. I like his ideas, he’s got a good team, just not enough to make it in with the big teams. My name would be a huge sponsor boost for him. Sort it for this weekend; we can sort out all the crap at my place, too. Maybe get the bikes transported back here?”
“Sounds like a plan, I’ll get it set up. Now, go finish up here, pretty boy.” Corrie pecks my lips twice then walks back out, clapping his hand on his brother’s shoulder as he passes.
I work quickly through the final set and change back into my own clothes. When I stroll out from behind the screen, Troy is talking to Raff but stops when he sees me coming over.
“Hey, Griff, good work today. Thanks for your time.” Raff smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes, he still has a problem with me and I don’t know why. It’s his problem, I suppose; let him work it out.
“Yeah, thanks, Raff.” I tip my chin up to Troy. “Hey, boss, how’s it going?”
Troy looks at me shrewdly and curls his mouth into a half smile. “It’s all good, Griff. Tell me, do you know what Corrie’s up to? He’s been in one of the spare offices all week, is it something we need to know about?”
I forget that Troy sees and knows everything that goes on in his company. I haven’t known him long enough to be able to bluff. “I’m sure he’ll tell us all when he’s ready.” I give him a steady smile and walk past them. “Have a great evening, guys.” I feel their eyes on my back as I move away but now is not the time to discuss this with them.
I work down past the gym and see so many people—young and old, men and women—all working hard. A few of them say ‘hi’, some merely nod, and a few stare. I spot Corrie leaning against the reception desk, talking to whoever sits there, but he must be able to sense me as I approach because his eyes lift and scan around for me. I love the lazy grin that spreads over his face and lights up his eyes as he appraises me. I manage a grin as I get closer.
“Hey, lover, you ready to go?” Corrie asks and leans in for a kiss.
“Yeah, I’m done. Let’s go.” I clasp his hand and we say goodbye to the guy at the desk and walk out into the warmth of the late afternoon. “Troy’s wondering what you’re doing.”
Corrie laughs, “Yeah, I know. There’s not much to tell him yet, though, is there?”
“No, I guess not. Did you get back in touch with Bill? I have a good feeling about his team.” I press the fob on my keyring and the lights of my car flash. I catch Corrie’s eyes sparkle when he looks at my car and smile, “You still got the hots for my car, baby?”
“Yeah, but only because of what I like to do to you up against it.” Corrie lets go of my hand and steps in front of me, his blue eyes clouding as he slides his tongue slowly over his bottom lip. Walking backwards, he smiles lasciviously, “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“Baby, I know you and I can tell exactly what you want to do to me, it’s written all over your face.” I peek down and see the swelling in his jeans: my turn to grin dirtily, “It’s showing in your jeans, too.”
I reach out and capture his face in my hands and pull him against me for a scorching kiss, my hands tangling in his hair as my lips devour his mouth. When we break apart, our breathing is heavy and, with our heads resting together, we take a deep breath in.
“I think I need to get you home, sweetheart.” Corrie murmurs and then steps back again. I manage a nod in agreement.
As we move again, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and, when I turn to look, I see a man sprinting away, a camera hanging around his neck. Smirking, he jumps into a truck and speeds out of the parking lot.