“What would your husband say?” Shannon asked, planning her escape around Nikki if she needed one. “Or does he want to watch?”

The thought sickened her.

Nikki laughed again and this time Shannon’s stomach reeled.

“Oh, I’d bet he’d like to, but this is my private party. It’s by invitation only and his must have gotten lost in the mail.” She licked her lips.

Shannon was suddenly tired of the game and smoothly stepped around Nikki, leaving her standing facing the wall. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

It wasn’t long before Nikki spun around, the lust in her eyes replaced with anger. Her voice was not as calm as it had been a moment earlier. “And why not? No one needs to know, especially Frank. It’ll be our little secret.”

“I’m not good at keeping secrets, and I don’t fuck where I bank, so

• 90 •


Descent

to speak,” she added cautiously. “I don’t mean to offend you, and I’m flattered, but I don’t do married women and I certainly don’t do the boss’s wife.” Okay, one white lie was acceptable given the circumstances.

Nikki had surprised her by accepting the rejection graciously and she had stayed away from Shannon until now. “Nikki, I didn’t think you came to races on the other side of the pond.”

“I thought a change of scenery would be good for me. You know, new city, new terrain, old friends.”

“And what do you think of Scotland?” Shannon asked moving so that her back was not against a wall. The last thing she needed was for Nikki to pin her against it and lay a big fat sloppy wet one on her.

“Gorgeous,” she replied. Nikki moved between Shannon and the door.“I didn’t like the way we ended our last conversation,” she said dropping her purse to the floor. Her hands were free, making Shannon nervous.

“Oh?” Shannon asked not so innocently.

“Yes, oh. Actually.” She lazily surveyed Shannon’s body like she had in Moab. “I was thinking maybe we could share a few Os ourselves.”

Shannon had to stop herself from laughing. How corny—share a few Os ourselves? Good God, it was an outright proposition and she hadn’t been hit on so blatantly since, well, since last night. Get real, Nikki. She wondered if Nikki thought about clichés all day or if she just made them up as she went along.

“Nikki, we already talked about this. I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

“No, sugar, you talked.”

“And that’s all we’re going to do. I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t do married women and you don’t eat the hand that feeds you. No matter how good they would be.”

Shannon smiled one of her quirky smiles, the one that typically diffused most situations. “Now, Nikki—” she started to say before she was interrupted by the door swinging open.

“There you are, baby. I thought I saw you come in here.”

Shannon was never so glad to see Frank filling the doorway as she was right at this moment. “Frank, hey, Nikki was looking for you,” she

• 91 •


JuliE CaNNoN

said nervously, not glancing at Nikki, knowing what she’d see reflected in her eyes.

“Bullshit,” was his reply. “The only reason she’s here is because you are.”

Shannon’s heart beat a little faster and her palms began to sweat.

She doubted Frank Striker could kick her ass, but he sure could give her a big wedgie.

“She’s a big fan of yours. Talks about you all the time. If I were the jealous type…” Frank was smiling broadly now.

Nikki stepped forward. “Thanks for the lesson, Shannon. And thank that other rider…what was her name again? Oh yeah, Caroline, for the excitement of the afternoon. She looked pretty good too.”

Shannon didn’t miss the innuendo in Nikki’s statement and a wave of jealousy ran through her. If she made a move on Caroline…

“Get some sleep, Shannon. You’ve gotta win tomorrow,” Frank said as he and Nikki walked out the door arm in arm but not before Nikki blew her a kiss over her shoulder.

Shannon sat in one of the chairs at the long table in the middle of the room. Nikki was not the first married woman to come on to her, and she wasn’t the first wife of a sponsor to do so either. There was that time in France a few years ago when the wife of the event sponsor cornered her in the hotel bathroom. She had met her the night before at the sponsor event and the interest was unmistakable. She had chatted Shannon up all night, and toward the end of the evening when she followed Shannon into a stall in the ladies room and locked the door behind her, Shannon wasn’t surprised. It really couldn’t be called a stall at all. The walls went from the floor to the ceiling and the door was full length with slats that allowed you to look out but no one could see in.

There was plenty of room and the woman dropped immediately to her knees after a searing kiss that left Shannon’s legs quivering and her clit throbbing. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but as the woman worked her skillful tongue on her she couldn’t think of one reason why not. Several women came and went, none of whom had any idea what was going on in the stall second from the end.

Shannon was normally a vocal lover, and the combination of the circumstances, the thrill of the place, and what was being done to her sent her over the edge. She came biting her tongue, her moan camouflaged

• 92 •


Descent

by the sound of the hand dryer. When the woman washing her hands left, the woman between her legs stood and unlocked the door. She walked out of the stall, washed her hands and face, straightened her blouse, and calmly strolled out as if she hadn’t just had her mouth on the most intimate place of a virtual stranger. Shannon had never had such an erotic experience before or since.

Shannon pulled her jacket over her shirt, the TKS logo embroidered on the back and over her left breast. She found it ironic that the clothing line Frank Striker made protected her from the scrapes and scratches on the trail, and she wondered if he made anything to protect her from his wife.

On her way back to the hotel she passed the expo village and the party was in full swing. The Saturday night before the final was always a night of adventure and excitement for everyone. Everyone except the most serious riders, that is. They needed to be sharp the next day or run the risk of smacking into a rock, catapulting over their handlebars, or worse yet, falling down a mountain. When she was first on tour she hadn’t missed a Saturday night. If she somehow had not made the finals, she partied without hesitation. If she was on tap the following day, she still partied, but not with the abandon she normally would have. It was hell to fly down a rough, rock-strewn mountain with a headache. She kept walking, the sounds of laughter and music fading behind her.

• 93 •


• 94 •


Descent

ChaPTER TwElvE

Caroline was at the bottom of the lift waiting for her and her bike to be taken to the top of the mountain. The final day of the second race in the series was bright and clear and the crowds were enormous. The gondola operator recognized her and allowed her to sit alone on the wide bench instead of having to share with others. The chair could hold as many as four, but since she was alone, she sat dead center.The nineteen-minute ride to the top was noisy. The hum of the cable pulling her and her fellow finalists, their bikes, and the hundreds of fans that dotted the course up and down the hill was steady. She could see most of the trail below her and watched as a rider made her way down the mountain, zigzagging around the hairpin turns, jumping over rocks, and vaulting over ditches. No one rode that good. No one could do what that woman was doing except one person, and Caroline watched intently as Shannon negotiated every turn and challenge. When she crossed the finish line, the roar of the crowd hurt her ears, even as far away as she was.

Caroline shuddered. It wasn’t because it was cool at the top of the eight-thousand-foot mountain or because of the 360 degree view of the valley. She shuddered after watching Shannon conquer the mountain with the skill and grace rarely displayed by any other rider, male or female. Her bike was an extension of her body. Her legs connected to the pedals as if they were her own feet, the handlebars a lengthening of her arms, the machine flowing under her like a ballerina floating through the air.

• 95 •


JuliE CaNNoN

It had been ten years and Shannon had only gotten more attractive with age. Where once was a lanky teenager, now was a stunningly gorgeous woman. Her shyness had been augmented with confidence almost verging on cockiness. Her hot looks were replaced with charisma and sex appeal. Either way, Shannon still had the ability to take her breath away, and she hated herself for it. She knew Shannon’s reputation on the circuit. Hell, she had seen it in person. She had more women after her than anyone she had ever seen. Caroline was no prude, but even she drew the line at someone new in her bed in every city.

Maybe she was jealous. The thought of Shannon doing to another woman what she had done to her made it seem somehow cheap and superficial. Touch here, get moan in return. Run tongue down there and get quiver of response. Insert finger into slot A then remove. Repeat action until orgasm is achieved.

“What in the hell am I doing?” Caroline shouted into the thin air.

Her seat bounced in reaction to her body’s forceful question. “This is one of the biggest races of my life and I’m thinking about everything other than the next forty minutes of my life. I could get myself killed.