Chapter 26 #2
“Chloe didn’t know I was here,” I say quickly, handing him back his destroyed phone and then crossing my arms over my chest. “Did she know you recorded her?”
“That’s none of your damn business,” Jack says, standing and sliding what’s left of his phone into his back pocket while picking up his waxed messenger bag and hitching it over his shoulder. He slicks his hair back from his forehead, and then stares at me, pointedly. “What?”
“Why do you hate me so much?”
Jack’s eyes are steady, his face impassive. “I’m just doing my job, Matt.”
The anger inside me hardens, and my right hand starts to twitch. I want to hit him. So bad. Punch him in his slimy mouth.
“That article was a stitch-up.”
“It was worth burning the source for.”
“You need to leave her alone,” I say, standing up a little straighter. Jack’s on the skinny side of lean and clearly stopped working out some time ago. I could take him. Easily.
“You don’t know what Chloe needs,” he says, and then his eyes narrow.
I steady my breath. “What you did? It’s really fucking unethical.”
Jack scoffs. “You want to lecture me about ethics? How’s Stavros?”
I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling, my hand balling into a fist.
“Jack,” I say quietly, in warning.
“Oh, you still haven’t seen him?”
I take a step forward, drop my head, and stare him down.
“You gonna hit me? Ever the intellectual, Matt,” he says, laughing. “Remind me. Did you actually finish school in the end?”
Don’t do this. A voice inside my head pushes all of it aside, and then Chloe’s words come back to me. She didn’t deny being in love with me. She didn’t flat-out deny it. And there would be no reason to lie to Jack. Unless she simply couldn’t lie.
“I’d rather be a fool.” Her admission to Jack that she had fallen for me was there in what she didn’t say. Could it be true? I feel my anger disperse a little and I relax my fist, deciding to let it all slide.
“Off you trot, Jack. Print your little stories about how awful I am. You are . . . what did she call you? A soulless snake?”
“Oh, I’ve got another, more interesting story now,” he says.
I don’t falter. I don’t change my expression. “Yeah?”
“The team principal of Arden and her first driver having an affair.”
Now, that one would hurt Chloe.
But he has no evidence of it. No one has seen us. Except . . . maybe me standing here, about to punch him in the face, is enough proof.
“Yeah,” he says, a smarmy little smile crawling up his face.
I do what I have to do. What Chloe would want me to do. I do what’s best for her and the team.
I laugh. Then I lie.
“Chloe Coleman?” I pull a face. “She’s like a fucking sister, Jack. Don’t be disgusting.”
When I head back to my room, I see Chloe standing outside her door, fighting with her room card, red-eyed, grunting and eventually kicking the door.
God, she’s adorable. Those legs, that dress, her hair. That feisty temper. Could she really care for me? Could I drag her into that room and talk it out with her? Now?
Chloe snaps her head around as I walk toward her. I know now that we need to be careful. I glance up at the camera in the hall, and then keep walking, the smell of honey from her perfume filling my senses as I near.
“Chloe,” I say, my eyes dropping down to meet hers.
“Matt,” she says, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes round and full of shame. “I’m so sorry. You have to—”
“Shhh,” I say, taking the plastic room card from her hand. I push it into the slot and open the door. “Not now.”
“I’d like to explain,” she says, as I take her by the hand and lead her into the room. She closes the door behind her and for a moment we stand looking at each other, her eyes nervous and searching. “I don’t think those things about you. I promise.”
“Well, that’s good to hear,” I say, and then I take her face in my hands and kiss her hard on the lips. Her lips part in return and I hear the faint moan that escapes her as she wraps her arms around me. She wants this just as badly as I do.
I quickly scoop her up and walk her over to the bed. She lands with a gentle bounce, her hair fanning out, her dress shimmering as it catches the low light of the lamp.
I run my hand up the length of her stockinged leg, catching my fingers on a lingerie suspender belt near the top of her thigh. She tentatively grins, cheeks pink, as I curl my fingers around the edge of the silk fabric.
“You’re not mad at me? Or hating me for what happened?”
“Do you want me to be?” I say as I rip the stockings off the clips and pull them down her perfect legs.
“No, but—”
I don’t give her a chance to finish that thought, as I reach my hand between her legs, push her lace panties aside, and rub my finger across her clit. “I can’t get enough of you,” I say, feeling her arch against me right away.
“We have qualifying tomorrow,” she reminds me, groaning into my ear.
“It’s a night race,” I say, feeling her hot breath quicken against my neck as she smiles. I inhale her scent, my nose buried in that mass of curls.
“Matt, I’m going to—”
“I know,” I say, feeling her body stiffen against my hand.
I stop moving my fingers and Chloe’s breath hitches; she turns her head to me. “What are you doing? Why are you stopping?”
“Not stopping,” I say. “Just taking it slow.”
She reaches down and tugs on my hand. “Of all the times to take it slowly,” she says.
I sink my teeth into the fabric of her dress just on the shoulder, as I pick her up and push her against the ward robe, obligingly taking her to the very edge again, feeling her come against my hand.
I pull her relaxed body into me, moving her back toward the bed, leaning down to kiss her on the mouth as we fall into each other, peeling our clothes off slowly. I lift the dress carefully over her head and she lies back in her black lace underwear. “Beautiful,” I say. “You’re just beautiful.”
Chloe reaches up to slowly unbutton my shirt, as I unbuckle my pants and kick off my trousers. For the first time I have her somewhere quiet.
I kiss her everywhere I find skin, and she runs her fingers across my body; her soft touch is electric, and I flex in response.
As I slide inside her, I feel her body shudder against mine. She pushes the hair out of my face and kisses me gently on the mouth. I want to tell her I love her. It feels without any doubt that I do.
I have to rest my head on the pillow for a moment, just to hold on to this a little longer, because I’m not going to last. Not with her looking like she is. Not with me feeling like I do about her. But she reaches her arms around my neck and moves her hips just so, and I move deeper inside her.
“I . . . Chloe,” I stammer. I want to tell her how I feel, how much I adore her.
“I know, Matt,” she says. “Me too.”