I shook my head against his grip, but when he pulled away, I wasn’t sure I could hold back the moan from my building orgasm. I sucked his fingers into my mouth as I rode his hand, and he chuckled, telling me I was such a good girl.
My orgasm ripped through me, and I collapsed in my chair, holding onto him as he whispered in my ear.
I expected him to stop as my breathing settled, but he went back to my clit, strumming it until wet sounds filled the platform.
“Zolt,” I breathed.
“You’re coming to my trailer tonight,” he said. “Or I’m tracking you down. We’re not done.”
I nodded, my hands falling down his side.
Just as the door opened and the press started to come in, the camera men went to the cameras. My stomach lurched, and whatever expression was on my face made Zolt smile weakly before continuing tofinger me.
“Zoltán,” I said under my breath.
The sheet on the table in front of us would hide our activities,but how obvious was where his arm was placed?
“Stop panicking,” he said. “Breathe. Calm.”
So I took a deep breath, watching each of them come in, talking and laughing with one another.
“They’re just people,” he reminded me. “They want the information you have. You’re the winner here. You give what you want, you keep what you want.”
“I give what I want,” I repeated.
“And nothing more.”
Even he wasn’t reckless enough to continue fingering me when Yvette came to sit beside him, followed by our team director. He patted the skirt of my dress back into place and then, to my absolute horror, lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked on the ones that had been inside of me.
I froze in shock, and he laughed, leaning into my ear, “Yummy.”
My mouth hung open before I forced myself to gather my sanity as the rest of the panel sat, and the head of StormSprint tapped his mic. “Good morning, we want to thank you for coming today. We know there has been a lot of speculation about Zoltán Farkas’s medical clearance, and to put your minds at ease, we are releasing some of his medical reports, with his blessing.”
Zolt nodded, and cameras flashed.
“The report will not give you every detail,” he continued, “because, frankly, that’s his private life. But we’re hoping it will stop some of the intrusive questioning our team and Zoltán have been receiving.”
I looked up at him, wishing his hand was still on my thighto have some connection.People were messaging him directly?
Luca was one of my favourite people in the world, and a walking green flag, but even he received awful messages from time to time. He laughed them off, but Zolt… A few weeks ago, I would have assumed he didn’t care, barely even acknowledged them, but now I was second-guessing that.
Dr. Yvette Sannier leaned forward to her microphone. “I have read all previous reports on Zoltán Farkas’s medical history. From his first year racing for MotoBike to today. He’s still going through some rehabilitation, which we as a team are taking very seriously. If we had any concerns for his health, he would be benched. That is not the case.”
It wasn’t just reporters with us, but Imre and Benedek were leaning against the far wall. Benedek nodded and smiled at his brother. Zolt wasn’t looking.
Dr. Sannier took some questions, half of which she huffed over, claiming they weren’t relevant or too private. At one point, she sighed and told them to look at their policies, reminding them that Zolt needed to get on the track for the race soon.
And then it was my racer’s turn.
He cleared his throat and read from a sheet of paper we’d drafted with Derek last night.
He read it carefully, at an easy, natural pace, his tone formal.
He was so cute.
And going off script.
I let him read the whole thing, scrambling to write down his additions and omissions on my own version of his speech.
