A Race, A Jail Day, And A Pit Stop

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Jason's pov

We were driving back to Nashville and she had fallen asleep with her head against the window. We were stopped at a red light when a decked out truck pulled up beside me with the window rolled down and the radio up. He looks over at me while I'm looking in his direction. He turns his ball cap around and revs the engine. I shake my head. I can't do that. Not with Dallas in the truck. Because of her back. She wakes up just then. "What's going on?" "Some guy wanting to race me." "Make sure to kick his ass cowboy." My eyes go wide. "Wait you want me to race him?" She nods and steals my cowboy hat. I smirk and grab my ball cap and put it on. "Alright you're on man." I rev my engine. He smirks and gets ready. "Hold on tight baby girl." She holds my hand and the light changes to green. We both take off lightning quick. Five seconds later, a cop is behind us. Crud. I'll definitely get a ticket for speeding. Maybe even one for street racing. She smirks. "Lemme handle this one cowboy." I smile as she gets out.

Miranda's pov

I lean against his door, the window down. "What seems to be the problem officer?" I ask, smiling. "Do you know how fast he was going?" He growls, pointing at Jason. I smile. "Yeah it was an innocent slip of the foot. Can't we get a warning please?" He glares at me. "That's not gonna work Mrs. Princess." He said. "First of all, the name's not princess." I say, slightly annoyed. I hate to be called that. "Then what is it?" "Miranda but my boyfriend loves to call me Dallas." I say, glancing back at him. "A day in the slammer. You can pick him up tomorrow." Ugh. He gets out of the truck along with the other street racer. "Great race." He says, shaking Jason's hand. "Totally worth it." He replies, smiling. I cross my arms. "See ya tomorrow baby." I roll my eyes.

*the next day*

I sign my name and they let him out. He waves to the other guy. We get to his truck.

Jason's pov

My truck is covered in mud. "Hey Dallas, did you go muddin' without me?" She laughs and opens the door. "I tore up some back roads. We better get movin' cowboy." I get in and she has that devil smirk on. I stare at her oddly. The cop that caught us yesterday storms out looking pissed. "Dallas.... What did you do?" "Drive!" She says. I floor it and he chases for a second but then stops. All the while she's laughing hysterically. "What did you do?" I ask again. "I may have went muddin' in someone's front yard." She says, still laughing. I laugh too. "You're kiddin' me!" "Nope!" She stops laughing and lays her head on my shoulder. "Let's get to Nashville. I wanna see my babies." I laugh when she calls the horses her babies. She's so weird but that's why I love her. I turn down a dirt road. "Where are we going?" She asks. I smile. "Making a pit stop." There's a small pond here. I park my truck and we both get out. She takes her shirt and pants off and wades into the water. My eyes nearly bug outta my head. God, she's so sexy. I strip to just my boxers and right before I get in the water, I take them off too. She lets the water cascade down her body, her back to me. She's so turning me on. I grab her shoulders and turn her around. "What took ya so long?" She asks with that flirty grin. Now I'm a mess. So instead of answering I kiss her hard. We're already waist deep in the water. She pulls out of my grasp and goes deeper to where only her head is exposed then she takes her bra off. "You okay, Jay?" "Y-Yeah.... Better than I've been in almost a year." I choke out walking over to her. We make out in the water then move it to the bank for the best sex I've ever had. I stare at the sky that has now gotten darker. I close my eyes and smell smoke. I look over and she's got a fire going. "We campin' here for the night?" I ask. "Oh yeah." She says, grabbing her suitcase out of my truck. She puts only underwear on. "Man, girl you're one of the best." She smiles, warming her hands by the fire. I sit up, still dripping wet and nude. I pull on a pair of boxer and blue jeans. I'm really glad we made this pit stop.

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