CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX CECI
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ceci
This is an official date, so it should have been my choice where we go,” Ceci huffed, doing her best to sound perturbed and failing miserably, as her spine slackened and her body melted into the deep cushioned booth, feeling fuzzy and warm from all the good food and wine.
Official dates were part of the agreement, but Ceci and Clarke were now seeing each other unofficially every chance they got.
“We had to come here,” Clarke said, “because they have the best brigadeiros in all of S?o Paolo. And I’ve never had a brigadeiro.”
She ran her hand up his thigh. When she reached his erection, she watched his jaw tighten and felt him flinch. She grinned. She liked seeing Sir Stick uncomfortable and on edge. She tried to detect if he was blushing, but it was difficult to do in the dark corner of the intimate restaurant.
They were here for the S?o Paolo Grand Prix, which Clarke had won.
Anker had come in second. It should bother her that Clarke had won, shouldn’t it?
But it didn’t. It made her recall what Nico had said.
“It doesn’t mean you lose … They become a part of you.
So long as one of you wins, you never lose.
” But that wasn’t the case with her and Clarke.
It couldn’t be. There’s no way Clarke would feel like that if Anker had won.
Just then, the waiter brought over a plate with what looked like chocolate truffles.
Ceci loved good food and wine. Who didn’t? But indulging and imbibing with Clarke was especially delicious. He always knew what to order. The man had an impeccable palate, she thought gazing at his mouth.
He picked up one, took a bite, and placed the rest of it back on the plate. “It’s good. Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
She sat up. “What? I haven’t even tried it yet.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
She took one and bit into it. The dense chocolate melted in her mouth. “Damn, that is good.”
“So now we can go.”
“But I haven’t finished it. Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I have to make the comparison.”
“What compar—” She stared at him. “You don’t mean?”
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
She laughed. “Well, you can wait until I’m done with this.”
“No, I can’t.”
“What happened to all that patience?”
He shrugged. “I think I have more patience when it comes to something you want. And less when it comes to something I want.”
“Well, you’re just going to have to suffer, because I’m not leaving until I’ve finished these.” She pulled the plate toward her.
He glowered at her. His eyes turned black and she knew what that meant.
“Well, in that case,” he growled, “I’ll just taste you here.”
“You will not.”
She made a move to scoot away, but he placed his hand on her thigh and yanked her near him. She clamped both hands on top of his. “What are you doing?”
“I never would have figured you as a woman with a penchant for rhetorical questions. Now remove your hands, Cecilia. Because if you don’t, I will.”
“This is so not Sir Stick Up His Assish. It’s like some beast in you has been unleashed.”
“It’s your fault.”
“How is it my fault?”
“I told you when eating that first Krispy Kreme burger—I have very little impulse control.” He leaned in. “Now. Move. Your. Hands.”
She didn’t move them, but he had no trouble maneuvering his hand and sliding it up and under her dress until he’d reached her panties.
“I will call you,” she said, her voice ragged, “Sir Galahad when we get home, okay?”
“Are we negotiating now?”
“We are.”
“Well, that would be a real stupid deal for me to accept. It’s like giving me the S?o Paolo Grand Prix, which I already have. I know you’ll call me Sir Galahad. You always do.”
“Well, tonight I won’t.”
He grinned. “Oh yes, you will.”
She glared at him. “You are so—”
He planted his mouth on hers, stifling her words. He slipped his tongue in between her lips just as he slipped his finger in between her thighs. Then he slid his tongue under her upper lip as that finger slid between the lips of her slick pussy.
Her breath caught as her body rocked forward.
She heard him chuckling as he placed his mouth next to her ear and his finger on her clit.
“And see, no one even knows.” He pushed the plate toward her with his free hand. “You can finish the brigadeiros.”
The waiter came up, and Ceci quickly tossed her napkin over her lap.
“Would you care for anything else, perhaps a flaming carajillo?”
That finger was taking turns caressing her clit and slipping inside her. And all the while he calmly conversed with the waiter, asking for every detailed ingredient of the carajillo and how exactly it was prepared.
He leaned in, grinning. “That sounds good. Would you like one?”
She was having a difficult time just steadying her breathing. She shook her head.
“You’re sure?” Clarke teased. “It’s a digestif. Remember what I said about digestifs.”
She nodded.
“Oh, you do want something?”
She shook her head.
“You’re satisfied.”
She stomped her stiletto heel into his foot.
“Ungh,” he grunted. He looked back at the waiter. “We’ll take the check.”
“Very good.”
Once the waiter was gone, he whispered in her ear, “Do you want me to stop?”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
He placed his left arm on the back of the booth in an infuriating nonchalant manner.
“I don’t know that I’d believe you if you said yes. Not when this”—his finger slid over her wet pussy—“is telling me no.”
The heavy heat building between her thighs was now flooding her entire body.
She felt the electricity from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head.
It actually felt like her hair might light up and burst into flames.
I might set this entire place on fire, him included, she thought, staring back at him as he watched her.
His lips were hardly more than an inch away, but would he know when to—
Tell him to stop. Tell him. Don’t stop. Don’t. Sir Galahad.
Just as her body burst with heat, and all that air she’d been struggling for suddenly gathered into one earth-shattering scream, he placed his mouth on hers, one hand holding the back of her head, his fingers woven between the strands of her hair and pulling them tight.
Oh, Sir Galahad.
When her shaking reduced to a slight tremble, he released her lips.
He pulled out his finger, adjusted her dress, and patted her knee with a smug smile. Then he turned his gaze on his wet finger.
He slid his tongue up one side and then the other, like he was licking a popsicle.
“Mmm,” he murmured before placing his entire finger in his mouth. After he took it out, he leaned back in his chair. “Thought so. Even better than brigadeiros. So we can check that dessert off the list. And by the way, I heard you.”
“What do you mean, heard me? I didn’t say anything. As you’ll recall, your mouth was on mine.”
He grinned. “Yes, but your thoughts were loud and clear.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be shouting it out loud in another hour or so.”
?? brEAKING: F1 DRAMA HOTTER THAN TIRE TEMPS IN brAZIL ??????
Last night, a certain driver and a certain team principal were caught kissing at an upscale restaurant—clearly testing track limits.
???? Sources say it wasn’t DRS they were activating, but feelings.
?? Stay tuned for the next Grand Prix: Passion, Politics & Pit Lane Scandals. #RivalsToLovers #ThisAin’tInTheRulebook
?? F1 UPDATE ??
Well, well, well … look who forgot what team they’re on.
?? Last night, a top F1 driver and rival team principal were seen locking lips at a fancy restaurant—because apparently conflict of interest now comes with dessert ???? Who knew the real race was to each other’s hearts ?? #LoveInTheFastLane #SomeoneCallTheFIA
?? F1 DRAMA ??
Last night, Sir Clarke was seen getting very cozy with Ceci Rivers over dessert, and let’s just say they didn’t look like they were discussing tire compounds. Is this love? Espionage? A really aggressive PR stunt? Who’s to say—but someone’s definitely getting more than a wind tunnel penalty.
#GridOfThrones #HopeTheTelemetryCaughtThat
?? F1 SOFT LAUNCH??? ??
Spotted: Sir Clarke and Ceci Rivers at a quiet dinner last night. Could be strategy talk. Could also be the soft launch of the grid’s most unexpected partnership. Either way, we’re watching, you’re watching. Closely. Like Ferrari watches tire degradation. ?? #F1SoftLaunch?
S?O PAOLO, brAZIL
?? “TESTING TRACK LIMITS—FANFIC PLAYLIST” ??
Vibe: Forbidden. Magnetic. Intense.
Tagline: Waving the green flag.
1. “Glory Box” – Portishead
Seductive. Dangerous. Perfect for that “we shouldn’t, but we will” kind of kiss over dessert.
2. “The Chain” – Fleetwood Mac
Because they can’t break the connection—even if it breaks the rules. Rivals who are in too deep to walk away.
3. “Electric Feel” – MGMT
That moment when the room and everything around them disappears, and the chemistry is unavoidable.
4. “Bad Romance” – Lady Gaga
Because this is a terrible idea, and we’re all here for it.
5. “Dangerous Woman” – Ariana Grande
Ceci Rivers’s theme song. Period. Clarke is out of his depth and completely into it.
6. “Earned It” – The Weeknd
A moody, dramatic slow dance track for when rivals realize they’ve crossed a line—and might never go back.