Chapter 88 Aurélie #3
Callum sucked in a breath just as voices grew closer to the door of the press room we’d just been in. We yanked our hands apart just as the door opened, and Callum grabbed my shoulder to casually guide me away from the reporters who were now watching us like hawks.
We broke away from the crowd, rounding the corner of the media pen, just far enough out of sight. Still too public to touch the way we wanted to yet too close for me to breathe properly.
He stopped walking and turned to me. His hand found mine again—this time not pinkies, but the full thing, fingers sliding between mine like they belonged there.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive the next few hours,” Callum murmured, stepping close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off his still-damp skin. “I keep thinking about what it felt like to have you shaking in my hands.”
I swallowed hard, pulse pounding. “Same. And I was really looking forward to you showing me what a good girl I was today. You know, returning the favor from earlier.”
He exhaled sharply. His forehead pressed to mine, gentle and intimate, but his grip on my hand tightened as though he was barely keeping control. “Don’t say that to me here,” he whispered. “You’ll kill me.”
“You said it first,” I breathed. “You called me your love in front of a thousand cameras. What if our radios had been on?”
He smiled, a slow, wrecked thing. “I meant it.”
I stepped closer, needing him around me. “I told you what would happen if you did.”
“I know. You didn’t seem mad.”
“Oh, no,” I said lightly, curling my fingers into his. “I liked it. I think I liked it a little too much.”
He pulled back just enough to drag his impossibly blue eyes over my face. “You want me to say it again?”
“Don’t you dare,” I whispered. “Not unless you want to fuck me on the side of the building.”
He chuckled low in his throat. “You say that like I’m not already thinking about it.” He cupped my cheek with his free hand. “Aurélie.” It sounded like a prayer.
I let the moment stretch before leaning in and whispering, “Si tu continues à me regarder comme ca, je vais te supplier deme ramener chez toi.”
He froze. Visibly. Just… stopped functioning. “What did you just say?” His voice had dropped an octave. His pupils were blown wide.
I grinned, putting distance between us, our arms outstretching, hands still intertwined. Both of us refused to let go. “Figure it out, mon champion.”
“No, I heard you, love. But you can’t say shit like that and walk away.”
I raised a brow, teasing. “I can if you can’t do anything about it right now.”
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’ll get you back for this. Next time I see you, I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface.”
“You really are competitive.”
“Only when the stakes are this high.”
The hallway seemed to quiet more, whatever crowds that were around the corner fading. I couldn’t stop myself from blurting, “I signed with Ferrari.”
He blinked, going still. “You—what?”
“I was on my way to the press room after you left,” I explained, barely able to contain my elation. “Silvio stopped me. I was supposed to meet with them next week, but… they wanted to sign me. Four years. It’s done.”
Callum’s mouth parted slightly. I watched it land. Reverence flickered across his face. “You’re—” He swallowed. “You’re going to Ferrari? You’ll be free from Luminis after this season?”
“Mhmm.” I dragged my fingers up his wrist. “I didn’t want to tell the world first.”
He looked at me like I was the sun and the checkered flag and every wet dream he’d ever had.
Then he tugged me back into him and threw caution to the wind when he full-on kissed me, releasing my hand to snake his around my back and dip me backwards like we were in a movie.
And yeah, I whimpered, completely forgetting where we were.
He righted me, but I felt lightheaded when he let me go.
“You’re fucking unreal,” he whispered against my mouth.
“You win Monaco and sign with Ferrari in the same goddamn hour. You’re not real. ”
I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning in for another kiss. “I can’t believe it.”
“Do you expect me not to lose my fucking mind over this news?” he rasped, eyes blown wide as he slipped his hands under the hem of my fireproofs. I shivered. “You’re a fucking fever dream. A goddamn miracle. I’m so fucking lucky I got to watch you win.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Oh, my God. I’m so fucking proud of you, Aurélie.
You deserve this.” He cupped my face and kissed me hard, fingers tangling in the strands of hair that had come loose from my braids.
When his tongue swept across mine, my toes curled in my boots.
“Shower. Change. Do whatever you need to do. But tonight… I’ll let you come first.”
“Not for the first time today, then,” I joked, sighing contentedly before withdrawing from his embrace.
We both hesitated a second longer. I didn’t want to go, and clearly, neither did he. Placing on the podium meant an exorbitant amount of work obligations, and right now, we were both itching to rip each other’s clothes off.
“Go.” His voice was hoarse. “Or I swear to God, I’ll take you right here and fuck you like you just won the whole championship.”
“Promises, promises,” I teased, teeth sinking into my bottom lip, and he glared at me so filthily that I couldn’t help but laugh.
Slowly, I backed away, because if I didn’t leave, I’d climb him like a tree and remind him I’d just won the most prestigious race in the world, and he’d fucking let me. “I’m going.”
“Later, Aurélie.”
“Later, Cal,” I echoed, dizzy and breathless. His eyes dragged over me like they were committing me to memory, and my pulse thrummed everywhere.
And then I turned and walked off as if I hadn’t just threatened to beg him for it in French or told him I’d be wearing scarlet red next year.