Chapter 29 #2
She moans and sighs and those sounds are better than the roar of his car’s V6 or the cheers of a crowd as he crosses the finish line. He grips her hip and thrusts deeper, faster, chasing the desperate edge in her voice.
Her inner walls start to flutter around him. "Nico."
"I know. I feel you." He circles her clit faster, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. "Don't hold back."
When she comes again, Nico willingly follows, just like he has since they were kids and, fuuuck, coming inside this woman is better than winning the Drivers’ Championship a million times.
Eleven years ago, Nico promised himself that someday he’d be good enough for Petra Hayter.
Even now, as he covers her body with his, heart thudding against her back, he wonders if he really is.
And that’s enough to make him pull out, tie off his condom, and say, “Stay here. I’ll run a bath for you. ”
Petra shoves a mass of pink-streaked hair from her face and peers at him over her shoulder. “You don’t have to do that.”
He smiles. “I want to.” He sits on the edge of the bed and runs his fingers over her ribs, kisses her shoulder once, twice, and a third time. “I want to take care of you, Petra.”
She bites her lip and considers this, and he knows why she’s hesitant.
Aside from Jacintha, Coy, Bowie, and her bodyguard, Petra Hayter doesn’t give up control to other people easily.
That requires trust, and that’s something she has in very small amounts thanks to Kelley.
It must be hard to trust when the one person you should be able to rely on walks out when you’re only six.
“Petra?”
She nods. “Right, Nico. But only here, like this. Don’t make assumptions.”
“I don’t.” One last kiss on her shoulder, then he heads for the bathroom and its oversized tub.
The bathroom fills with steam as he runs the bath, adding hotel salts that smell like roses. She wanders in, piling her hair atop her head in a messy bun and securing it with one of those odd plastic clips all women seem to have.
He climbs into the tub and helps her step in after. She lounges against his chest once they’re settled, and water laps at her perfect curves.
Nico traces patterns on her shoulder, admiring the strength in her arms, the way her muscles shift under soft pale skin.
Everything about her is a study in contrasts—fierce competitor and cheeky spirit, technical prowess and wild passion.
The way she attacks every challenge head-on but melts when he kisses that spot where her neck curves into her shoulder.
There’s nothing he doesn’t love about Petra Hayter.
“You’re thinking very loudly.” She rests her head back on his shoulder and closes her eyes.
“I’m appreciating.” Nico trails his fingers down to her wrist. “All of this.”
The truth hits him then, watching water droplets trace paths he memorized with his mouth—he loves her.
Yes, he’s known it since they were kids, since the first time she outdrove him in karts and grinned that smart-ass grin she still has, but he’s lived with that obsession for so long, and it’s been nothing but a goal for a decade, that it’s a shock to realize he’s accomplished it.
Yet the desire remains. It’s strange how much this feels like the first time he won the Drivers’ Championship.
He wanted it with singular purpose. Achieved it.
Then immediately knew he wanted it just as much a second time, and a third, and a fourth.
Attaining it didn’t lessen the desire. Not at all.
Nico Belmonte loves Petra Hayter, and having her in his arms now, finally, doesn’t make that any less so. He’s spent his whole career chasing her, on track and off, not truly understanding what he was pursuing, until now.
God knows he’s never wanted anyone else the way he wants her. Not just her body, but her brilliant mind, her incredible spirit, and the fire that makes her Tenacious P.
“Now you’re really thinking too loud, Nico.”
He smiles against her shoulder, tasting rosewater and her skin. “I just realized something.”
“Mm?” She shifts against him, sending ripples through the water. “That you’ve finally met your match?”
He smiles at her teasing, even as the words hit closer to the truth than she knows. “That I’ve always known who my match was. And now that she’s in my arms, my desire for her hasn’t lessened one bit.”
She turns just enough to study his face. “Pretty sure I’m the one who’s been chasing your lap times.”
“On track, maybe. But the rest?” He slides his hand across her hip under the water. “Do you remember at the European Karting Championships in Valencia when you stuck out your tongue at me over the second-place trophy?”
She laughs. “No, but I’ve seen the photos.”
“That’s when crush turned to love, Petra.”
She sits forward and turns between his legs. “Nico...”
“Then you said, ‘Try to keep up, Conejo.’” The memory makes him smile. “And I’ve been struggling to stay out front of these feelings ever since.”
She’s fully facing him now, water sloshing as she straddles his lap. Her expression shifts from teasing to something more uncertain. “Smooth talker.”
“No. Just an honest fool.” He brushes a loose lock of hair from her face. “I’ve loved you since before I knew what that word really meant.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t seem to know how to respond, and for a moment, there’s just the sound of water moving and the hum of the bathroom ventilation.
“You can’t just say things like that.” Her hands tighten on his shoulders, but her voice wavers. “Not when we’re supposed to be rivals, Nico. Not when everything’s so complicated with the championships and the teams and… you know.”
“Why not?” He kisses her, then pulls back and stares into her eyes. “Championships aren’t everything.”
“No?” There’s hope and uncertainty at war in that one word. “What’s more important?”
“Things.”
Petra rolls her eyes. “Like what, Nico Belmonte?”
He traces her cheekbones with the tips of his fingers. “Like you never backing down.”
“Even when I’m fighting you?”
“Even then.” He holds her face still, needing her to understand. “You make me better. On track and off. Everything I am as a driver and as a person, you’ve pushed me to be, because I want to deserve you.”
“Christ.” She looks away, expression faltering. “There’s so much noise around this,” her gesture encompasses them and the rest of the world, “that I can’t think straight.”
“You can.” He’s gentle and patient with her. No need for force. She’ll come to understand in time. Nico’s sure. “You make decisions under pressure every race weekend. This is the same.”
She’s looking at him again and there’s a little irritation in her voice and gaze. “Don’t be daft. It’s not.”
“How? Why?”
“Because, Nico.”
“Because? Explain.”
She shifts in his lap, agitation rippling through the water.
Her irritation has morphed into something closer to anxiety.
“Because you’re involved. Because my whole life is hanging on this.
Because this isn’t a fucking car that can be rebuilt if I shunt it into a wall.
It’s my career and everything I’ve done to get here.
Everything the team and the owners and Dad have sacrificed to get me here.
Right here. And-and-and it’s you, Nico. It’s your heart.
And if I break that…” Her voice gets tight and she shakes her head.
“I don’t know how I could forgive myself. ”
This vulnerability is a rarity that Nico treasures. He cups Petra’s face. “Look at me.”
She does, those brown eyes he’s been in love with for over a decade, wide and bright, shifting between his as she grapples with the knowledge, power, and responsibility he’s just given her.
“My heart survived four championship fights. It can handle you.” She laughs, and Nico continues because he wants to reassure her.
“You’re not going to break anything, Petra.
Not my heart, not your career, nothing.” About this he’s sure.
“You’ve never crashed when it mattered. Not once.
You calculate every risk, every angle, every possible outcome.
And then you make the right call.” He leans his forehead against hers.
“I trust you with my heart because I’ve watched you make perfect decisions under pressure since we were kids. ”
She swallows and the shine in her eyes turns to tears that catch on her lashes. “No, I’ve made some awful choices, Nico. Decisions that nearly ruined everything.”
He captures her tears with his fingers. “You mean you’re human? Shit, that’s disappointing.”
She makes a face and smacks his arm. “I mean— What if this time I cock it up? What if I ruin everything?”
“You won’t, but it we cock it up, then we will figure it out together.” He kisses her softly. “But you don’t have to decide anything right now. You don’t owe me declarations or promises or anything else.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“Time.” He lifts her damp fingers to his lips. “To see where this goes. No pressure, no expectations. Just us figuring it out.”
She searches his face. “You’d really be fine with that? Not knowing?”
“Petra.” He smiles. “I’ve not known for eleven years. I can survive a little longer while you sort through your feelings.”
The tension in her shoulders finally eases. She turns and settles back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her, holding her close in the warm water.
She lifts his fingers to her mouth and whispers, “Thank you,” against them.
“For what?”
“For understanding that I need to be sure.”
He kisses her damp shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, Petra Hayter. Take all the time you need.”
“But what if I decide no? What if I can’t?”
“Then that’s how it will be.” He rests his chin on her shoulder now. He smirks. “And I will never let you beat me on track again.”
She laughs and the sound makes him happy.