Chapter Thirty-Eight
Georgia
I was jolted awake on Friday morning by a low, rhythmic noise behind me, something between a sigh and a sleepy groan. For a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was. My body was warm, too warm, and the air was full of a scent entirely unfamiliar but deeply comforting.
I blinked my eyes open.
I was still in Luca’s bed.
We were still tangled in his bed, his arm looped tightly around my waist, his body molded perfectly to mine. And very much hard against me. Memories of last night surfaced.
I want this whole fucking boat to know that you’re mine.
I knew he’d probably only meant it in the heat of the moment.
Still, my heart wanted to believe the words held weight outside this cabin.
Because the truth was, wrapped in Luca’s arms, warm and safe, I wasn’t sure I wanted this to be temporary anymore.
What we’d built this week didn’t feel fake.
It felt maddeningly, frighteningly real.
Being in bed with Luca like this, it all felt too easy.
A nagging voice told me it shouldn’t have felt that way, not with someone who wasn’t officially mine, even if I was starting to wish he was.
I couldn’t shake off the conflicting feelings stirring inside me, especially since it had been so long since anyone had made me feel this way.
I glanced at the clock. Five thirty a.m., which meant the sun was just about to rise. Since I was already awake, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity. I turned slightly, trying not to wake him, but the moment I shifted, the arm around my waist pulled me firmly back.
“Leaving without a good morning kiss?” Luca’s voice was full of sleep.
“Cuddles not enough for you, I see?” I teased.
He nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his stubble dragging deliciously against my skin.
Luca draped his arm over me, and he pulled me flush against him, giving me a small peck on the lips.
His hands trailed down to my center, his fingertips lightly grazing my upper thighs, and I knew he could feel how wet I was from just his teasing.
“What’s got you so wet, amore? Have another dream last night?” I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t push him away. Not when his hand was slipping between my legs, brushing against the most sensitive part of me. A soft moan escaped before I could catch it.
“Luca,” I warned, but it came out far too breathy to be taken seriously.
His other hand slid beneath the hem of my shirt, his shirt, technically, cupping one of my breasts and rolling my nipple between his fingers. He pressed his hips against my backside, and I could feel just how ready he was.
“I mean,” he murmured against my shoulder, “if you want me to stop…”
Instead of answering, I guided his hand lower, pressing him exactly where I needed him most.
“Didn’t think so.” He grinned, kissing the top of my shoulder.
His fingers slid inside me, slow and steady, and I gasped, arching into his touch. The spooning position only made everything feel more intense: his lips tracing my neck, his chest flush against my back, the warmth of his breath at my ear as he whispered softly to me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Ruining me, Georgia Dubois. I swear.”
My eyes fluttered shut. His fingers worked expertly, curling just right, stroking that place inside me he’d apparently memorized. My body tightened, pleasure building fast, and I clutched his wrist to steady myself.
“Oh my god, Luca. Don’t stop.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
My moans grew louder, and even though part of me remembered we weren’t alone on the boat, I couldn’t bring myself to care. Luca’s name spilled from my lips like a prayer, over and over, until the orgasm crashed through me, fast and hot and impossible to contain.
“So fucking hot,” he whispered, voice thick with want.
As I panted through the aftershocks, he reached for a condom in the drawer beside us, tearing it open with one hand.
“Think you have another one in you, amore?” I nodded, still out of breath from the last orgasm.
I could barely form a coherent answer, so I just nodded, catching my breath. He kissed my temple as he positioned himself behind me again.
“So dominant on the track,” he murmured as he eased in, slow and careful, “but so willing to be a good girl for me in bed.” I whimpered at the stretch, full and overwhelmed all over again. Luca groaned into my shoulder as he bottomed out.
“Fuck, you feel unbelievable.”
He started to move, slow and deep, each thrust making my breath catch. One of his arms wrapped around my waist, the other hand finding my clit again. The sensation built too quickly, my body still sensitive from the last orgasm.
“Let go for me again, amore. Let me feel you fall apart.”
I clung to the sheets as another climax crept up on me, this one even more intense. The way he touched me, like I was his and he was desperate to prove it, unraveled me completely.
When I came this time, I cried out his name without shame.
“God, I’ve wanted this… wanted you for so long,” he said, his thrusts losing rhythm, his voice raw.
A few more frantic strokes and he let out a guttural groan, emptying himself with a deep shudder. His arms tightened around me, holding me close even as we both collapsed back onto the pillows.
We stayed there for a moment, our bodies tangled, breaths slowing. He pressed soft kisses to my shoulder, then my neck, then the curve of my jaw.
Eventually, he turned me to face him. His dark eyes softened, but something unspoken swirled beneath them, like he wanted to say something and couldn’t quite figure out how.
“I meant what I said, Georgia. Being with you… you bring me this peace that I’ve never felt before.
” Rough hands cupped my chin, and Luca leaned in for another kiss.
His soft sincerity caused a devastating flutter to erupt in my stomach.
We both lay there peacefully, enjoying the company of one another for a little while longer.
I looked at the time, and not wanting to miss the sunrise, I sat up.
He whined, trying to pull me back into his bed.
“I’m going to watch the sunrise,” I murmured, starting to slide out of bed.
“No, amore. Just a little while longer,” Luca groaned, trying to reel me back in with one heavy arm. His hand grazed my hip like it was reluctant to let me go. “It’s warm here. And soft. Stay.”
“You can, of course, join me if you can bear to get out of bed.” As light started to peek through the blinds, I heard Luca groan, a confirmation that he was not a morning person, unless sex was involved.
“‘Tis so cold without you,” he hummed, although I could see him close his eyes, already giving in to sleep.
I crept out of Luca’s room, scanning the hallway to make sure no one had decided to emerge for a pre-coffee stroll. I darted into my own room, slipped into leggings, then headed toward the bow of the yacht.
The golden edge of morning light was just beginning to kiss the water when I saw him.
Henri. Standing at the front of the boat with his arms crossed, holding two mugs of coffee like he’d been waiting for me.
“Hey!” I called out, jogging a few feet. “You hogging all the coffee on this boat?”
Henri let out a small, audible exhale as he passed me a mug. His expression immediately changing as soon as his eyes landed on my shirt.
Shit. I looked down to see I was wearing Luca’s Hermes shirt, the one he’d let me borrow back at his apartment.
“Wearing his shirt now, too, I see.” Henri took a contemplative sip of coffee, motioning for me to take a seat next to him. His voice was full of disdain as he pointedly ignored my LR52 shirt.
I winced. “Luca let me borrow it a couple weeks ago.”
Henri didn’t respond to my admission of guilt, his lips in a tight, thin line. His lack of words spoke volumes. He was clearly unimpressed with the choices I’d made last night.
“I heard you sneak out of his room this morning.”
“I’m sorry…” I started, but Henri shook his head.
“You don’t need to apologize, Georgia. You’re an adult with the freedom to do what she wants.
I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Henri’s shoulders sagged, avoiding eye contact.
He scuffed his shoe against the ground, a defeated expression on his face.
It was if he was weighing his options, trying to decide what to say to me.
“You think you know Luca. But I know him better.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” His voice was sharp. “This is Luca Rossi, F1’s notorious playboy. More one-night stands than race starts, something I’ve witnessed for the last couple of years as his teammate. And here you are, hopping into his bed each night.”
I stilled for a moment, leaning back as I crossed my arms. “Excuse me, I am not hopping into his bed each night. And even if I was, it’s none of your business who I sleep with.” I didn’t appreciate the subtle hint of what my brother was trying to say.
Henri turned to face me fully. “I’m not saying that you are,” he sighed, “I’m just… worried he’s using you to get back at me. Or at least, prove that I’m wrong.”
Get back at Henri? They might not be on the best of terms as teammates, but this felt dramatic even for him. Henri was the number one driver, he’d won the Hermes battle for power.
“Back in Monaco, I asked Luca to stop leading you on. And before you say anything,” he held up his hand, “I see the way you look at him, Peaches. You’ve never been good at hiding your feelings, and you’ve never been someone to have casual sex.
You’ve practically been all over each other this trip.
” Henri’s face pinched with guilt, but he held firm.
“I asked him not to mess with your head. And of course, he got pissed. You know Luca, he hates being told what to do. Especially by me. And now I’m worried this is his way of proving he can cross that line just because I drew it.
” He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
“He’s never been a serious dater. Hell, he still brings up éliott like it’s a game.
Like he’s testing the waters. He’s told me himself he doesn’t plan to settle down until he retires from Formula 1.
After your winner’s brunch, I asked about his intentions, and he said he was just playing the role Hermes had asked of him. ”
The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp.
I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to ward off the pressure building behind my eyes. His voice was calm, his tone even, but every word chipped away at the fragile little hope I hadn’t even realized I’d been nursing.
Henri grabbed my hand, sincerity laced in his voice. “Look, you both did this for a reason, and I think you need to think about what’s going to happen when Luca finally lands that contract. I’ve heard rumors of his agent shopping him around to other teams.”
His words stung, but there was some truth to his warning.
Luca’s reputation preceded him, and I knew better than anyone not to get emotionally invested in a dead-end situation.
But something about our time together—the way Luca’s eyes softened when we were together, and how he held me close, whispering into my ear as we laughed away at silly jokes, it was easy to forget that maybe they were just that, nice moments between friends having casual sex.
It didn’t mean that Luca was falling in love with me, even if I was falling for him.
It didn’t mean Luca wanted a commitment. Hell, Henri had basically just confirmed this wasn’t anything special.
I’d been the one to initiate last night, not him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. We hadn’t agreed to be anything but friends. Contemplating the sincerity of my brother’s voice and concerned eyes, I couldn’t dismiss the nagging feeling in my heart. I put on a brave face, forcing a smile.
Henri’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts.
“Plus, Georgia, and I can’t believe I’m saying this to my biggest rival, but you don’t need any more distractions this season.
You’re winning the championship right now; don’t let anything distract you from that, especially not Luca.
You’ve got to put 100 per cent out there. ”
I forced a hollow laugh. “Henri, It’s just some fun, okay? I’m fine.”
I knew my words fell flat. With each passing second, more disappointment started to creep in, and I hated myself for it.
Being mad at Luca wasn’t fair because we weren’t actually together.
I was the one who had initiated sex, and I didn’t have a right to be angry at him.
But deep down, I couldn’t shake off this feeling of frustration and stupidity, because I had started to let my heart wonder what if.
Henri was right. Between the championship battle and Luca’s history with relationships, I needed to keep my heart in check and my mind focused.
The fake dating was enough of a distraction from the racing, I couldn’t imagine what real dating would look like.
I needed to slow whatever it was Luca and I were doing down.
We had a two-week break after this vacation, during which we would both be completely absorbed in our respective training camps before the second half of the season started.
While I was fucking annoyed Henri had butted into my business, he was right that after just a couple months of knowing Luca, I’d let my heart run wild with possibilities.
I’ll talk to Luca before the Austrian Grand Prix, I resolved. Tell him I need a little space. To slow down. He’ll understand.
Even if the thought left a bitter taste in my mouth, even if my gut twisted with something that felt a little too much like heartbreak, I knew what I had to do. Because I wasn’t going to lose the championship over a guy who might never be mine.
No matter how badly I wanted him to be.