Epilogue #2
“Right, so.” I grinned at the crowd. “Three-time world champion. Still doesn’t sound real.”
Cheers erupted. I waited for them to die down, scanning the faces until I found her. Violet stood near the front, Hazel bundled in her arms, both wearing my name and number.
Six months ago, I’d been chasing something I couldn’t name. Approval that would never come. Success that tasted hollow the second I achieved it.
Then Violet walked in and turned my entire world upside down. She made me want to be more than just fast. She made me believe I deserved someone who saw past the headlines and podiums to the mess underneath.
She was the first person who ever made me feel like I was enough and she made me want to be the kind of man who stayed. Who chose her every single day, not because he had to, but because a life without her wasn’t worth living.
She’d ruined me for anyone else, and I’d never been more grateful.
“I’ve got some people to thank. My team at Aedris, who gave me a car fast enough to win even when certain people tried to make that difficult.”
Nervous laughter rippled through the crowd. I caught Julian’s thunderous expression in the team area.
Perfect.
“My race engineer Al, who’s somehow put up with me for six years. My trainer Liam, who keeps me from completely falling apart.” I paused, letting the moment breathe. “And most importantly, the two girls who changed everything.”
The roar was deafening. Violet’s face went pale, but her eyes locked on mine.
“See, this season wasn’t supposed to go the way it did.
I wasn’t supposed to find out I had a daughter.
Wasn’t supposed to fall completely in love with being a father.
Wasn’t supposed to fall in love at all.” My voice dropped but carried across the crowd.
“Wasn’t supposed to realize there are things more important than racing. ”
The paddock fell silent.
“But I did. And you know what? It made me a better driver, and it made me remember why I started racing in the first place. It wasn’t because I had something to prove, or because I needed validation from people who were never going to give it.” My eyes found Julian again. “But because I loved it.”
I raised the trophy. “This championship is for everyone who’s ever been told they’re not good enough. That they need to fall in line, play it safe, stop being so difficult.” I grinned. “Fuck that. Be difficult. Be yourself. And if they don’t like it? Win anyway.”
The crowd lost its mind. Champagne sprayed, Nico and Jesse unleashing their bottles in the chaos. I grabbed mine, shaking it up before joining in. The liquid arced through the air, soaking everything, the crowd roaring below us.
When we finally descended the podium steps, champagne-soaked and exhausted, Nico clapped me on the shoulder. “You know you’re properly fucked now, right?”
“How’s that?”
“You just told half the world you’re in love.” He grinned. “No take-backs.”
I glanced back toward the crowd, finding Violet again. She was trying to slip away, keeping to the edges, avoiding the cameras. But I’d seen her face during the speech. The tears she’d tried to hide. The smile she couldn’t quite suppress.
“Good,” I said. “Wouldn’t want one anyway.”
VIOLET
He kissed me the second the door closed.
No hello. No “did you see the race?” Just Griffin Michaels, three-time world champion, backing me against the wall with his mouth on mine and his hands everywhere.
I melted into him, the last four hours of adrenaline and tension dissolving. He was here. Safe. Mine. And judging by the way his hands slid under my shirt, he had plans.
“Shower,” I gasped between kisses. “You smell like—”
“Victory?” He grinned against my throat. “You love it.”
I did. God help me, I did.
But he also reeked of champagne and sweat and rubber, and I wrinkled my nose.
“Where’s Hazel?”
“Imani and Cleo have her for the night.”
His brows rose. “The whole night?”
“The whole night.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Well. That changes things.”
“Does it?”
“Princess.” He backed me against the wall again. “I just won a championship, told the world I’m in love, and now I have the woman I’m obsessed with all to myself for an entire night.” His hands framed my face. “Yeah. That changes everything.”
His mouth found mine again, hot and claiming. I kissed him back, pouring hours of fear and adrenaline into it. His hands slid down my sides, thumbs brushing the bare skin where my shirt had ridden up.
“Bed,” I gasped.
“Shower first.” He grinned against my lips. “I need to wash the sweat and champagne off before I get it all over the sheets.”
“Griffin—”
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his pupils blown wide with want. “Please.”
“Okay.”
His grin was blinding. He grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the bathroom. I barely had time to register the marble and glass before he was stripping off his t-shirt and joggers.
My gaze dragged over him, the sculpted muscle, the v-cut disappearing into his boxer briefs. He caught me staring and smirked.
“Taking notes, Princess?”
“Admiring the view.”
“Good.” He hooked his thumbs into the waistband. “Because you’re next.”
Before I could respond, he was on me. His hands slid under the t-shirt, lifting it over my head. My bra followed, then my knickers, until I stood completely bare.
His pupils dilated, that competitive glint flaring. “Shower. Now.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just swept me up and carried me into the glass enclosure.
Hot water cascaded over us as he pressed me against the cold tile. Steam rose around us and he mapped my body with urgent need.
“Three-time world champion,” I gasped as his mouth found my throat. “And you’re still this impatient?”
“With you?” His hands slid down my sides, cupping my breasts. “Always.”
His thumbs circled my nipples and I arched into him. He bent his head, capturing one peak in his mouth. His tongue swirled, teeth grazing lightly before he sucked hard enough to make my knees weak.
“Griffin—”
He switched to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention while his hand slid between my thighs. His fingers teased, circling but not quite touching where I needed him.
“Please.”
“Not yet.” His mouth traveled lower, kissing down my stomach. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
He dropped to his knees, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder. The position opened me completely to him.
His breath ghosted over me, warm and teasing. Then his tongue swept through my folds and I gasped, one hand flying to his hair, the other bracing against the tile.
He worked me slowly, circling my clit without touching it directly, building the pressure until I trembled.
“Griffin, please—”
“Not yet.” His finger slid inside with a maddeningly slow rhythm.
I whimpered, hips rocking against his mouth, chasing the release he kept just out of reach.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let me hear how much you need this.”
When he finally sealed his lips over my clit and sucked, the sensation was almost too much.
The pressure built, coiling tighter with each stroke. My thighs trembled and his hands tightened, holding me steady. When he added a second finger, I came apart, crying out, my body shaking.
He kissed his way back up my body, grinning. “Ready for more?”
“Always.”
He lifted me, pressing me against the tile. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he positioned himself.
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
“It won’t be.”
He pushed inside slowly. The stretch was overwhelming, perfect. When he was fully seated, he stilled, forehead pressed to mine.
“Fuck, you feel incredible.”
“Move,” I breathed.
He started slow. The slide of him inside me was exquisite torture. Each thrust hit something deep, making my toes curl, but it wasn’t enough. The pressure built low in my belly, coiling tighter with every movement.
My nipples dragged against his chest, oversensitive, adding to the sensation until I couldn’t think. My head fell back, eyes going heavy, nails raking down his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
The orgasm was right there, hovering, but I couldn’t quite reach it.
I needed more.
“Harder,” I gasped.
His control snapped. He drove into me with unrestrained need, the sound of our bodies meeting echoing off the tile. The pressure built again, impossibly fast.
His hips snapped against mine, driving deeper with each thrust. The friction was perfect, overwhelming, the cold tile grounding me while he consumed me. The coil inside me pulled taut, winding impossibly tight.
I was right there, trembling on the precipice, my body coiled like a spring about to break. Just a little more. Just—
“Come for me,” he growled. His hand slipped between us, and he pinched my clit.
I shattered around him. He followed moments later, groaning my name.
His eyes fell shut, face contorting with pleasure.
His forehead dropped to mine, our breath mingling in ragged pants.
We stayed like that, trembling, hearts racing against each other, neither of us able to move, until our breathing evened out.
He set me down gently, steadying me when my legs wobbled.
“Christ.” His hands ran over my body, checking for damage. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I got carried away—”
I cupped his face. “I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?” His brow furrowed. “Because I shouldn’t have—”
“I loved it. Stop worrying.”
“You’d tell me if I hurt you?”
The vulnerability in his voice made my throat tight.
“Always.”
He studied me for a moment longer and then nodded. The lustful smolder returned to his green eyes and he bit his lip.
“Good. Now, get in the bed,” he whispered. “We’re not done yet.”
My stomach flipped. Heat pooled low despite the fact that I’d just come twice. How was he already ready to go again?
“You can’t be serious.”
His eyes darkened. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because he absolutely looked serious, and my traitorous body was already responding to the promise in his voice.
He dried us both with the thick hotel towels, his movements gentle now, almost reverent. The heat of the shower had left my skin flushed, my limbs loose. He wrapped me in one of the plush robes, tying it at my waist before lifting me into his arms.
“Griffin, I can walk.”
“I know.” He carried me toward the bedroom anyway.
We’d been living together for a month now. And I mean really living together. Not the strange limbo we’d existed in before.
The guest room had become Hazel’s room. My toothbrush lived next to his in the bathroom. My clothes had claimed half his wardrobe. Our routines had merged so seamlessly I sometimes forgot there’d been a time when this wasn’t my life.
Every morning, I woke up pinned beneath him. Griffin Michaels apparently couldn’t grasp the concept of staying on his side of the bed.
He’d wrap himself around me like I was his personal radiator, which was ironic considering the man was a living furnace. I’d joked about moving to Scandinavia once. Somewhere his body temperature might be an asset instead of attempted manslaughter.
He’d just pulled me closer and told me to stop complaining.
I wouldn’t change a thing.
He laid me down gently, settling between my thighs with reverence instead of urgency. This time, there was no rush, no desperation. Just Griffin, looking at me like I hung the moon.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, brushing hair from my face. “Sometimes I look at you and can’t believe you’re real. That you’re mine.”
If he kept this up, I’d turn into a blubbering emotional wreck.
“Why are you praising me? We’re meant to be celebrating you tonight!”
“And this is how I want to celebrate.” He kissed me softly. “By worshipping you.”
He pushed inside me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I’d never get used to the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered.
“You saved me,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across my lips. “From myself. From the emptiness.”
He cradled my face as he moved with slow, tantalizing thrusts. I felt every inch of him, the slow drag prolonging the pleasure until it was almost unbearable.
The intensity of his gaze matched the pace, and I loved every second of it.
“Before you, racing was everything. The only thing that gave me purpose.”
Tears pricked my eyes. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but hold his gaze as pleasure built with each slow movement.
“Then you walked in with your sharp tongue and your walls and your refusal to let me get away with anything.” He kissed me softly. “And suddenly I had a reason to come home and two somethings worth protecting.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I whispered.
“You gave me everything.” His forehead pressed to mine. “You made me want to be the kind of man who stays. Who chooses you every single day.”
He kissed me again, deeper this time, and my eyes burned with tears of joy.
“I’m so bloody grateful for you. For this. For every moment I get to share with you.”
The pressure built, coiling tighter. With each thrust, his body almost promised me a future I’d never dared to want.
“I’d do it all again,” he breathed. “Every moment, every fight, every sleepless night if it meant ending up here with you.”
“I love you,” I whispered.
His eyes fell shut, something raw and vulnerable crossing his face. “Christ, Vi. I love you too. So much it terrifies me.”
When I came, it was with his name on my lips and our gazes locked. He followed moments later, body shuddering, groaning my name like a prayer.
Afterward, wrapped in his arms with no space between us, I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in.
My father had forced me into Griffin’s orbit for all the wrong reasons. He’d thought I was another means of control.
Instead, I’d fallen in love.
The irony was almost funny. After years of hating every decision Julian had made for me, I was finally grateful for one.
He’d put me exactly where I needed to be.