I fucked her twice, once on the sofa, once against the wall. I can smell her all over me. She drives me fucking wild.
Grabbing my helmet from the shelf, I tug it on and lower myself into the car. Cowan is already out, and I fall a minute or two behind him. The car feels good. It feels steady. There is something different about driving at your home race, the crowd cheer that little bit louder.
Marcel is in my ear. “Radio check.”
“Loud and clear.”
Rolling down the straight, I take this first lap easy, warming the tyres. “Keep me posted on the other guys’ times,” I speak to Marcel as I pull out of sector one.
“Will do, Royce. You just keep your head down,” he mutters back to me.
Going silent on him, I try my hardest to push aside the visions of her bouncing up and down on my cock this morning, milking me of all I had. Batting the thoughts away, I needed to focus. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel as I veer towards the finish line.
“Looking good, Royce. Pick up the pace, tyres are at a good temperature.”
We stick with softs for this round; I want to see how they perform. I have clean air in front of me, sucking it through the car as I glide around the track. Approaching the finish line, I cross it and wait for Marcel to tell me where I landed.
“P5, Royce, you can do better.”
“Cowan?” I ask, my voice vibrating.
“P4.”
“Fuck,” I groan.
I push with all I have for the last lap of Q3, I cross the line in P4, knocking Cowan down two places.
Rolling the car back into the pits, I am jacked up and pulled into the garage. The engineers place the tyre covers back over the wheels, trying to keep the temperatures up.
My dad hops over to see me, giving me a pat on the top of my crash helmet. I flick my visor up, my eyes bouncing between his.
“You’re doing well.” He holds his thumb up. “I am so proud of you.”
My heart jolts in my chest. I will never tire of hearing those words pass his lips. He is my hero. All I ever wanted to be when I grew up was my dad.
“Where is Athena?” I ask, and he gives me a small smile.
“Sitting in your room writing, that’s what Edel said, anyway.”
I nod. I’m glad she’s writing. I hate that I miss her though.
He gives me a wink before disappearing out back. It’s rare that he is here for qualifying. He is always lurking, but he doesn’t spend much time watching. Mainly just race days.
“Ready?” Glenn comes through my radio.
I slap my visor down as the covers come off and I am pulling back into the pits, sliding behind Cowan.
I feel like we have been better since our little rumble in the hallway, we’re still not best friends, but we’re getting along and that’s something.
I am well into the points for the chances of my first championship, and with thirteen rounds to go, I am feeling positive.
I fly around the track and put it into P2 start for the Silverstone race. Once I’m back in the garage, I push from the car and drag the helmet from my head, then tug my balaclava off.
We have press meetings to do then I am free for the evening.
“Royce.” Glenn pulls my elbow back. “Quick team briefing,” he mutters, a tight smile on his lips as he makes his way across to Cowan’s garage.
Placing my helmet on the rack, I pad my way through to my room to see her sitting with her headphones on, tapping away on her laptop. Walking in, I stand beside her as she turns to look up at me, a wide smile on her face. I smile back, gripping her chin and lowering my lips to hers.
