Chapter 16 #2
I grin as I pull into the pit. I can’t wait to see Chloe, hear her thoughts on the run. I can’t get the steering wheel out fast enough. I yank everything out and leap out of the car. Behind us, in the pit, I spot the cameras right on me, and I turn around and give them two fists in the air.
“Hell yeah,” I shout, as Archie comes over and chest-bumps me, and then hugs me tight. I spy Chloe by the back with her strategists, and try to wave her over, but she has seen the cameras too and waves me away.
After being weighed and relieving myself of my helmet, I race back to find her, but she’s not there. I push out of the garage and out into the paddock, where I spy her leaning against the trailer, head down, arms folded.
“Chloe!” I shout as I run across the lot to her, not caring who can see us.
She looks up, and for a brief moment I wonder if something has happened. But then a smile stretches across her face, and my heart squeezes.
“Eleventh place. The best we’ve ever done!”
“It’s a start,” I say, sheepishly.
“If you can follow that tomorrow, we can stay in this. You were so—”
“It was the car,” I say, holding out my hand and pulling her up and into a hug, unable to control the excitement I’m feeling too. I forgot this. I forgot what it was like to fight your way up. To be outclassed in every way, and to scrape back, slowly, in tiny steps, until you improve.
At Rossini I was only ever there to drive. Just a driver. The brand was bigger than all of us. This absolutely feels more like a team. It feels damn good.
Chloe does a little jump up and down in my arms, burying her face in my chest. Then she pulls back abruptly, remembering herself, glancing around the lot.
“Your stats were good. Your vitals pretty normal. Was it okay?” She stammers around the words.
“It’s not good still. Maybe a little better.”
She breathes out with relief. “Better is good.”
“Better isn’t great, though. I’ve got a ways to go.”
She stares at me like she’s got ideas. Her brown eyes are alive in a way I’ve not seen before.
“Come on,” she says, yanking on my arm as she pushes the door to the driver room open and tugs me inside.
“Wait! You have to go talk to press, Chloe. Everyone’s going to be looking for you.”
“All the more reason,” she says, slamming the door shut and twisting the lock.
It’s only seconds before she’s unzipping my racing suit, and with the adrenaline still coursing through me, I do nothing to stop it. My undershirt is damp with sweat, and I must smell of burned rubber, and motor oil, and . . .
“Where did this come from, Ms. This Is A Mistake?” I say, laughing at her.
“I’m so amped up, and proud of us,” she says hungrily, as she pulls me in for a kiss. I’ve not seen her like this, hot and greedy. I stop her for a moment, pushing her off me and holding her at arm’s length.
“I don’t want to stop this, obviously, but yesterday you were . . .” My voice trails off.
“Yesterday we weren’t eleventh place on the grid.”
The room is long, narrow, and tight. A small table to the right of us, and a little sofa with a TV at the far end and a window overlooking the lot. Chloe doesn’t seem to care, as she tugs at my undershirt, peeling it up and off.
She pauses for a moment, putting her small hands against my skin, her fingers tentatively dragging behind as she moves them down my chest. I allow her fingers to explore for a moment, as her chest starts to heave.
Damn. I reach under her and lift her up so her legs curl around my waist, and I push her up against the wall, pinning her underneath me.
“Hey, I was in the middle of something,” she protests, as I cover her mouth with mine, kissing her. I feel almost instantly hard, the pressure inside my suit verging on uncomfortable as I grind into her, and she holds on to my neck, kissing me back.
This won’t work.
“I want you too much,” I murmur.
“I know,” she whispers, as I lift her onto the little table and rest her ass on the edge, my hand on her lower back, pulling her into me.
Then I move quickly, unbuttoning her jeans. She has to lift her ass to let me pull them down, and then I put my hand on her bare thigh, and drop to my knees.
I look up at her, desire and a questioning look in her eyes.
“I should be doing this to you,” she says.
“Doing what?” I ask, pushing her thighs apart.
She smells intoxicating, and for a moment I just lay small kisses on the insides of her thighs, pulling aside her lace knickers.
“Chloe,” I say as I put my mouth against the delicate skin around her clit, and she squirms, and her hand goes straight to my hair; she grabs at it roughly. I rub my nose along her, burrowing deeper inside with my tongue.
“Oh shit,” she says.
I groan in reply, moving my tongue against her, reacting to her movements.
I reach up and tease her with my finger, as I lick and kiss and bite at her.
She drops her head back against the wall, allowing herself to enjoy the pleasure as much as I’m enjoying giving it to her.
She deserves it. She should be with someone who wants to do this to her all the time.
I hear voices outside, the murmur of an energized crew hurrying past toward the press conference, probably, and I feel Chloe stiffen a little against my mouth.
“Chloe, it’s okay,” I whisper, putting a hand up to her belly to hold her in place. She grabs my hand and squeezes it.
“Don’t stop,” she says.
I move quicker now, reaching up and sliding my finger inside her. The feeling of her, wet and warm, squeezing tight around my finger . . . it is almost enough to make me lose it completely.
She comes so gently this time, a hand clasped over her mouth, her moans quiet and restrained. “Matt,” she whimpers, softly.
I squeeze both her thighs with my hands, and trail kisses across them as I wait for her to calm and her body to relax. She reaches down and grabs at my hair.
“Kiss me,” she says, and I stand up and oblige, but just as we ease into it, Archie’s booming voice rings around just outside.
“I don’t know where the fuck he went,” Archie says. “No, you go back in. I’ll find him.”
“Shit,” says Chloe, biting her lip.
“You need to go do team principal things,” I say.
“I’d rather do this,” she says, all coquettish and smart-mouthed.
“No,” I say, closing my eyes as she digs her nails into my ass. “You should be out in the pit crowing about all the changes you’ve made. This is your moment to shine.”
“I don’t like that part of the job,” she says. But I can tell from the tone of her protest, she knows I’m right.
“You need to do that part of the job,” I say. “You have to promote yourself, Chloe. And the team needs to hear you talking about how good they did.”
She sighs, stepping back. “Eleventh fucking place. And Noah in fourteenth. I can hardly believe it.”
“Go out there and be loud and proud,” I say, pulling up my race suit, and pushing her gently toward the door.
“Can I just go out there and be me, instead?” she says, and I grin.
“You are proud,” I say. “Show them. Show the team.”