Their rhythm was so furious that Imogen’s sounds of pleasure were short, quiet little pants, punctuated by the occasional breakthrough full-on moan when she caught enough breath. It was beautiful against the silence of the trees.
Until they heard a rustling and snapping.
“What was that?” Imogen asked, her eyes flying open. “Oh, my God, is that a bear?”
Shit. Shit. And shit. Ty pulled out of Imogen, zipping her pants up quickly and stepping back away from her. “Worse. It’s people coming down the trail.” Ty tucked his erection in his jeans and winced. “Damn, that sucks.”
“People? People are coming?”
“Yes.” He could hear their voices now. Ty reached out and yanked her off the tree trunk, where she’d looked frozen midfuck, and gave her a quick kiss. “Time to move along, babe.”
Imogen checked her zipper and gave a nervous laugh. “Well, that’s embarrassing. And really disappointing.”
“Tell me about it.” Ty slung his pack over his back and tried not to think about the unsatisfied ache down south. Walking gingerly, he looked around. They were missing something, but between the sex and the sudden stop presatisfaction, his brain was blank.
Wiping her lips, she craned to see down the trail. “Oh, geez, here they come. Where’s the cooler?”
“The cooler. Right.” That was what they were forgetting. Ty had dropped it on the edge of the trail, just before he had marched Imogen up against the tree trunk.
Imogen bent over to pick it up and her backpack slipped over her shoulder, sending her stumbling forward.
“You okay, babe?” He started toward her, but she giggled.
She righted herself and turned around, smiling. “I can’t believe we almost got busted.”
Ty grinned back. “Almost is the important thing. But they’re here, so mum’s the word.”
A man and a woman in their midthirties came enthusiastically trekking up the trail, which reassured Ty that at least if they had gotten busted, it wasn’t by a pack of Boy Scouts or anything. He would have felt terrible if a kid had seen them doing the deed. Of course, he hadn’t given that possibility much thought before he’d started tearing down Imogen’s pants.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Ty said, nodding politely as he stepped aside to let them pass.
They smiled and greeted him. Then the man did a double take.
Uh-oh. Ty braced himself.
“Say, aren’t you Ty McCordle? The number sixty car?”
Ty plastered on a smile. “Why, yes, sir, I am. How are you doing today?”
“Just fine, just fine, thanks.” He shook his head and adjusted his ball cap. “Wow, what a coincidence, you being here and me stumbling on you. You’re a fantastic driver. Been rooting for you all season.”
“Well, thank you, I appreciate it. Hoping to finish out the year strong, but there are some really good cars and drivers out there.”
“True, true.” The man turned to his companion. “Look at this, Lisa, it’s Ty McCordle. Can you believe it?”
Lisa shook her head no rapidly. She looked a little awe-struck.
“What are you doing here? Just hiking and taking in a little R and R?” the man asked.
“Yep.” Ty put his hand on the small of Imogen’s back and rubbed it to reassure her, knowing she had to be thinking if this couple had walked only a touch faster, they might be having a different conversation. Hopefully if he had been caught bare butt, no one would have recognized him, though. He didn’t imagine much of his fan base was familiar with his backside. “How about you?”
“Yep. Me and the wife are on a long weekend. It’s our fifth anniversary this past weekend.”
“Congratulations.”
The man beamed at them. “Thanks. This your girlfriend?”
Ty fought the urge to sigh. He loved and appreciated his fans; he truly did. They made the sport both profitable and a hell of a lot of fun. They kept the energy level high and spurred him on to do the best he could week after week. But there were times when a man wanted some peace and privacy, and this was one of them.
“This is Imogen.” That was a respectable way to avoid the question, because he had no clue how to really answer. He didn’t think they were dating officially yet, but he wanted to be. It just wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with total strangers on the trail. “We’re just doing a quick one-night stay here. I have to get back and plan for Atlanta.”
That effectively diverted the man. “Right, sure, of course. Coming down to the wire, aren’t you?”
“Jim, maybe we ought to let them head on their way,” his wife said, nudging him.
“Right, of course.” The man flushed red. “Well, nice meeting you both. Wow. Ty McCordle.”
“You, too. It’s been a pleasure.” Ty stuck his hand out and shook the man’s firmly.
“Happy Anniversary,” Imogen said to both of them.
They beamed. The wife relaxed a little. “Thanks.” She shot a sly look at Ty, then back to Imogen. “Enjoy your day and night.”
The woman might as well have winked at Imogen. Ty felt almost sheepish as he followed Imogen, who smiled and waved, then started up the trail. The couple waved back and continued in the opposite direction.
“Does that happen to you often?” Imogen asked. “People recognizing you?”
“Sometimes.” He had discovered there was no rhyme or reason to when it happened. It had happened in all sorts of different places, with all different age ranges. Stock car racing drew a wide audience.
“Well,” she said. “Given that you are in the public eye and recognized, perhaps we should exercise a little discretion in the future.”
He loved the way she said that—in the future. Implying there would be a future, in her very prim yet, to him, provocative voice.
Ty reached out and swatted her ass. “Perhaps.”
Imogen squawked and reached around to try to smack at his hand. “Ingrate. I’m trying to look out for your public image, but if you want to tarnish it, I suppose I can’t stop you.”
Which made him laugh. “No, you can’t stop me. And the only thing I’m going to tarnish is your chastity.”
She shot him a sultry dark-eyed look over her shoulder. “I think you already have.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell me how.” Ty wanted to hear it from her lips, wanted to hear a description of all the things he had done to her.