Chapter Thirty Five – Bahrain Media Day
Elena Archer – Bahrain, Thursday Evening
I took extra precautions getting to Aleks’s room. I wanted to be certain no one was following me, and that I wasn’t spotted. I knocked softly on the door and he opened it immediately, ushering me inside. He closed the door and gathered me into his arms.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, my face smooshed against his firm chest.
“I knew it would be a grilling. But it still burned.”
“Yeah, I could tell.”
He finally released me and led me into his suite.
Like the last hotel, this one was sleek, modern and luxurious.
I was in a different hotel, and my room had about ten percent of the square footage of this suite.
I let out a whistle as I gazed around at the seating area overlooking a twinkling view of the city.
“It might be the last suite I get to stay in for a while,” he said, a tired smirk ghosting his lips.
“I heard about the company’s share value. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged.
My stomach was twisting in knots. I turned my attention to the view and raised a thumb to chew on the nail.
“It feels like a year since we were alone together,” he said, moving over to stand behind me. “But it’s only been a week.”
“What a week, though. How long did you spend preparing for today?”
“Let me put it this way, I normally spend about thirty hours in the simulator before a race. I managed two this week.”
“Two hours?!” I turned to face him, my eyes wide.
“But I spent about fifty with Heidi.”
“Well, it paid off, you did really well.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You kept cool, you gave good answers. But I know you and I could tell it was draining for you. Most people wouldn’t have noticed that though. Even if they did, any decent person would understand why.”
“I don’t think most of your colleagues are decent people.” He turned away and moved over to a bar against the wall.
I tried not to feel the sting of his words. He wasn’t wrong, unfortunately. Caroline’s cruel ultimatum was fresh in my mind. But I couldn’t tell him about it. It would only make him angry and more resistant.
“Agreed,” I replied, struggling to lift my voice. “But I meant the people watching. The fans.”
“Huh.” He scooped up a tumbler of dark liquid and knocked it back. “Do you want a drink?”
“Desperately, thanks.” I took off my bag and shoes and sat down on one of the low sofas in front of the window.
He brought over a glass of whisky for me and a fresh one for himself.
“We dodged the girlfriend topic pretty well, though.” He offered his glass to me to clink, but I was slow to respond and he lowered his, frowning. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. We have every reason to keep this private. I am completely on board. But it’s exhausting too. And at some point, if we stay together, we’re going to have to go public.”
“If we stay together?” He pulled back a little.
“Well, yeah. I mean, I’m not married. I’ve never had a relationship that didn’t end at some point.
You?” I tried for levity, but may have missed.
He just frowned at me. “Aleks, I don’t want it to end.
I just mean that we don’t know what will happen.
Have you thought about how long we’d have to wait to make our relationship public? ”
“I’ve tried not to. But it’s crossed my mind. I don’t have an answer though because so much is out of our control.”
“And I know how much you hate that,” I said with a small smile. I reached out and touched his cheek.
He leaned into my touch, his eyes closed and he released a shaking breath.
I shuffled closer and put my drink down on the glass table in front of us. His eyes peeled open and he looked into mine, searching for something. I felt that need too, that need for an answer, for something easy.
I lifted his drink from his hand and put it beside mine.
I turned to face him and climbed into his lap, straddling him, and wrapped my hands around the back of his neck.
This was simple. Us. Sex. Heat. I lowered my mouth to his and kissed him with soft and yielding lips.
His hands landed on my hips. He deepened the kiss, probing between my teeth with his tongue.
I welcomed it, returned it. I ground myself against him and felt him stiffen inside his jeans.
Aleks’s hands moved under my shirt, riding up my sides and dragging my top up.
I broke the kiss just long enough to tug the top over my head and toss it aside.
Then our mouths were connected again, deeper, rougher.
I pulled his team polo shirt up and over his head and rested my hands on his firm chest. We unfastened each other’s jeans with desperate, fumbling hands.
We stood, clumsily, lips still locked, to remove the offending clothing that was keeping our skin apart.
He slammed my naked body against his and his erection pressed against my stomach. I pushed him back down onto the sofa and climbed back onto his lap, this time sliding right onto his cock. Aleks moaned, his eyes closed and his head dropped back against the back of the sofa.
“Fuck. I missed this.”
“Me too,” I replied, before laying a series of light kisses along his jaw.
His hands gripped my hips and he began to move me, controlling me even though I was technically on top.
I let him. I didn’t need to be in control, but he did.
I ground my hips as he directed, back and forth in his lap.
My clit throbbed with need against his groin.
Aleks moved his hands up my back and pulled me close to his chest.
“Elena,” he whispered.
“Hmm?” I kept moving, rocking gently, feeling his cock twitching inside me.
“I wish I could just be inside you all the time and never have to do anything else.” His voice was deep, husky with desire.
“That sounds good. Fuck the race. Let’s just stay here and fuck each other until Monday.”
“Deal.”
He grabbed hold of me and somehow managed to flip us both, his cock still tucked inside me, so that I was on my back on the sofa.
I let out a squeal, which he promptly swallowed by planting a deep kiss on my mouth, his tongue probing deeply.
He was done being gentle. Done pretending to let me set the pace.
He pushed up onto his hands, breaking the kiss and pumped his hips hard, thrusting deep into me.
My cry died in my throat and I lay there, mouth hanging open as he fucked me hard and fast. One of my legs hung limp over the edge of the sofa, the other was hooked over the back of it. I clung to his arms with my hands and felt the rush of cool air between us.
I couldn’t quite tell if it felt good or not, not until a massive surge swept through my muscles and a great cry burst from my throat.
“Fuck!” I screamed. “Yes!”
Aleks was releasing every ounce of pressure, betrayal, and rage on me right then and I knew it. But fuck, it felt hot. This was primal, emotional and about as far from ‘making love’ as you could get without actual violence. My orgasm was overwhelming and my whole body tensed with the strain of it.
Without warning, he pulled out of me and flipped me onto my front. I startled, before leaning into the thrill of it and pushing my arse into the air. Barely breaking stride, he was inside me again, fucking me harder and faster from behind.
A long, tremulous moan passed my lips as I came again, this one less explosive but just as deep.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Fuck!”
I cried out again as he rocked me hard, back and forth like shaking a bottle of champagne on the podium.
And just like that, he exploded inside me with a roar.
He kept thrusting, but with no rhythm, just sharp, short jabs.
Great vocal sobs came from his chest and my pleasure wilted.
I pulled away from him, sliding off his cock, and spun around, grabbing hold of him as he sagged against the back of the sofa.
“Aleks?” I held him against my chest as he shook. “It’s all going to be all right.”
“No,” he said, shaking, sobbing and clutching me tightly. “It’s all over.”
“No it isn’t. Hey.” I gave him a sharp shake and lowered myself to his eye level, making him look at me. “Listen to me, Aleks.”
His wet eyes focused on me at last and he stopped crying, his body stilled.
“Aleks,” I said, more gently. “I’m right here and I’m going to help you get through this.
It is not all over. You and me, we’re just beginning and I’m not going anywhere.
But your career isn’t over either. You have so many more championships ahead of you, so many podiums. And I’ll be there, cheering you on.
Maybe sometimes asking you hard questions in the media pen. ” I smirked.
He let out a gruff laugh, nodded and dropped his forehead back onto my chest.
“Thank you.” He pulled back again with a look of concern on his tear-soaked face. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I wasn’t thinking. I was too rough.”
“I actually really enjoyed it. Didn’t you feel how hard I came?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t myself.”
“No you weren’t. You lost control. But we all need to do that sometimes. And if one of the ways you get through this is to stay controlled on camera and lose it inside me, then I’m here for it all.”
He shook his head and loosened his grip on me. “No. I won’t treat you like that.”
“Okay.” I sat down, draped my arm across his shoulders and waited for his breathing to settle. There was a tiny bit of me, the bit still high from my orgasms, that was disappointed. But our sex life was amazing without that level of brute force. I knew that really.
“What do I do, Elena? Tell me how to control this narrative. They still think I knew something.”
I drew a breath. The opportunity had presented itself and I had my answer ready, but I felt a little stab of guilt about the element of self-preservation involved.
“Well, you won’t like this, but you could give an interview.”
His eyes opened again and he peered at me sideways.
“Not with me, that’s too on the nose. On camera, let people see a little bit more of what I get to see. Open up, just about the scandal, nothing personal. Tell your side of it on the record.”
He scowled at me.
“One line answers in a press conference don’t give you the opportunity to get your story across. And I know how tight a rein your handlers keep you on in those sessions. You need to be in control without appearing constrained.”
“It’s like you’re talking another language.”
I laughed. “Sorry. But I do really think it’s a good idea. I could even set something up with my friend Caroline. Maybe this weekend, get on top of it before you race.”
“I suppose. That does sound like good advice. But I don’t know if I can do it. I know I don’t come off well on camera. It’s not what I’m here to do. I just want to race the car.”
“I know. I get it. I’d do the interview myself and just publish it in print.
But I think appearing on camera will be better for you, even if it’s challenging.
” Oh God, I was lying. This was not what I wanted our relationship to be like.
Doing the interview with me, like this, relaxed, open, trusting, was by far the best option for him.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’d need to prepare for it.”
I nodded, swallowing around the pain in my throat.
He wanted to control the story. So did I.
I couldn’t count on Caroline being fair, or empathetic.
I couldn’t trust her to coax good answers from him without butchering him.
If we got ahead of Caroline, it wouldn’t be about control.
It would be about truth — and dignity. Aleks deserved better than to be ambushed.
And I refused to let someone else weaponise our story.
Not when we had the chance to tell it right.
“What if we did it ourselves, just us? On camera, to give you a chance to emote. But I’d give you space to answer, I’d let you tell your story. You know you can trust me to be fair. I have been so far, haven’t I?”
If I got ahead of Caroline, I’d be back in control. If we announced our relationship before she did, she’d have nothing.
Aleks slipped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me closer.
“I am much more comfortable with just us.”
My heart pounded. A part of me still wanted control — to take the story back before Caroline could twist it into something ugly.
But this wasn’t about scoops or exclusives any more.
This was about Aleks. About helping him stand in the light on his own terms. I could do that for him. I wanted to do that for him.
“Then let’s do it.” I got up from the sofa and gathered my clothes.
“Now?”
“Right now. Clean up, get dressed.” I dashed to the bathroom to follow my own instructions. And yes, his bathroom was the same size as my entire hotel room. I tried not to begrudge the reigning world champion his perks. Mostly.
When I emerged, Aleks was dressed, his hair combed and the sofa area tidied from our frenzied activities.
“Why the rush, Elena?” he asked, his voice soft, curious.
“While the motivation is strong.”
He simply nodded, then headed into the bathroom to finish cleaning himself up.
I picked up my phone and called Graham in London. He’d be rushing to get the day’s news out, but I knew he’d take my call after that press conference. He answered on the fourth ring.
“Elena, good job. I saw you on the broadcast. Great question!”
“Thanks, boss. Look, I’ve got a global exclusive follow up for you. Or I will have. Give me two hours and I’ll give you a video interview for the website.”
“Branching out are we?”
“It’s a one off. You’ll want this.”
“Who’s it with?”
“Aleksandr Volkov.”
“What the fuck? He’s agreed to go on the record? Long form? With you?”
“Yes. Do you want it?”
“Of course I fucking do!”
“Righto, boss. Hold the press.”
“No one says that, doll face. Good luck with the interview.”
I hung up and was still grinning when Aleks came back into the room.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Let’s do this.”