“You are not wrong,” I reply without hesitation. “But I’m destined for failure. I’ve accepted it.”
That hits him like a slap. He blinks and all emotion slips off his face for a second. He wipes his brow. “You’re a talented driver. You work your ass off. You killed it in F2. Points every race your last season, finishing second overall. If you’d waited it out a season longer you’d have been offered a seat. You didn’t need to buy your way in. But regardless, you still have the potential to really make a name for yourself in F1 the same way you did in those lower levels.”
He’s watched my career? Now it’s my turn to be stunned. I lean forward, putting my elbows on my knees, which are spread. I have a feeling the towel around my waist is precariously close to opening and I’m not wearing anything under it. “But the fact is everyone knows my dad bought my seat at Mayflower. It was always going to be an uphill battle to gain credibility, but I thought I could do it. One year at Mayflower, and then someone else would want me based onme. On my performance, not my parentage. But now… with the paternity debacle and this assault charge, no one will want to touch me, even if I win the championship, which spoiler alert, I’m not going to. It’s a lost cause.”
Axel shakes his head before I even finish speaking. “That’s bullshit and you know it or else you would have quit by now.”
A bead of sweat slips from the dark hair at his temple and slides down his face. I stand up. “Have you met my father? He wouldn’t let me quit because it would mean he failed. I’m his only child. One he went through a lot to have, so my failures and successes are his. He’s invested. I may see the inevitable end to this career but I have to let it come naturally. He won’t see it any other way.”
Axel sighs. I’m directly in front of him now, standing so close he’s almost blurry. “Take off your clothes. This is silly.”
“I’m not staying.”
“But yet, you’re not going,” I reply and tug the tie on my towel. It breaks free of my hips and I take the end and lift it to wipe the trail of sweat off his temple.
He doesn't flinch. Because his head is tipped slightly down, his jaw hanging open, and his eyes are glued to my exposed semi-hard cock. When his temple is dry and the towel hangs loosely in my hand by my side, he raises his head so our eyes meet. His gaze is dark and stormy and the desire in that darkness is undeniable. My cock swells a little bit more. "I'm not your whore. I'm not paid to—"
“I’m not asking you to do anything,” I interrupt and start to tie the towel back around my waist. “But let’s be clear, if you did do something, it wouldn’t be part of this stupid job. It would be because the personal business we have is unfinished. I should have fucked you senseless on that yacht and you know it.”
“I know that… this is a different time and a different situation.” Axel swallows so hard his Adam’s apple looks like it’s trying to break the smooth skin of his neck.
“You still attracted to me?”
“Yes.”
“And I still want you,” I reply and step closer to him again. This time I keep my towel on but reach for the hem of his shirt, my fingers skirting it gently. “I think you can see that.”
“Damien is mad. He thinks we aren’t selling this hard and fast enough,” Axel blurts out, and it’s clear he doesn’t realize the double entendre in his words until I smile. Then he turns red and I let out a breathy laugh. “God, you don’t stop do you?”
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask the question that’s been plaguing me since he walked back into my life. The one I’m not sure I want the answer to. “Because I know I’m coming on kind of strong, but I will stop. If you really don’t remember how fucking hot that kiss was and don’t feel any of that chemistry we had, then I will back off and this will actually be a boring business arrangement and nothing more. Unlike what that woman says about me, Idotake no for an answer.”
I finally shut up and wait, impatiently, for Axel to tell me something—good or bad. He inhales slowly and exhales even slower. “I feel it. Still. Again. I feel the chemistry. It’s why I took the job. Because I knew I’d feel it and it would be easy to sell us.”
Fuck, yes! I try not to look as relieved as I feel. Gotta be cool. Calm. Collected. Axel scares easily. But I dare to step even closer to him, with a firmer hold on the hem of his shirt. "You should take this off. You're melting."
I start to pull his shirt up. He actually lets me get it all the way over his head. And then he really blows my mind because he reaches for the knot on my towel.
The feel of his fingers curling around the Terry cloth sends heat ricocheting down my spine. White, hot desire. I grab the back of his neck but hesitate. I need to be sure he wants this. He yanks the towel before I can even say a word, pulling our bodies together until our lips connect. I could whimper with relief. Instead, I open my mouth and find his eager tongue with my own.
The kiss is New Year's Eve all over again. Hot and needy and wild. I'm still the more dominant one, but Axel is submissive in all the best ways. He melts into me, and if I slow the pace of our kisses, he groans and holds tighter to my towel, and flexes his hips into me. Axel is as hard as I am.
And I’m about to do something about it when the door to the sauna opens.
11AXEL
I'm kissing him.Gabriel's lips are on mine, his tongue is in my mouth, and his teeth are nipping my bottom lip, just like he did five years ago when I thought he was a horny inappropriate waiter. And I feel… joy. It's the most odd but amazing sensation. Kissing him with abandon makes me feel young, free and hopeful. Because I haven't done anything with abandon since the last time I kissed him.
And just like I always feared, I’m going to pay for it.
The door opens and hits me square in the back, pushing me roughly into Gabriel who stumbles backward. We’re both thrown into reality with the gust of cool air that accompanies the intrusion.
“Oh. Sorry!”
I grab my shirt off the floor brush by the person who entered and head out of the sauna without looking up. Gabriel doesn't follow, which is for the best. I need to have a stern, judgmental conversation with myself before I can face him. I just made out with my client… well, my client's son who is my project. In a public space. While on the clock. I mean, yes my job is to pretend to be his boyfriend, but that crossed lines. I would have dropped to my knees and sucked him off if we hadn't been interrupted. My lust for him has knocked me senseless.
Gabriel is a live wire. He runs hot all the time in his car, in his social life, which has proven to be a problem, and with his emotions. It's the polar opposite of me, of my instincts, and it's a total, utter turn-on. It's also a fucking nightmare. As if I needed salt poured into my emotional wound, as soon as I open the door to my hotel room—shivering because the sweat that coats my body is now cold—my cell starts buzzing. I yank off my shirt, which is damp and gross, and drop it on the floor as I pull my phone from my back pocket with shaking hands. My sister’s name illuminates the screen. Great. I inhale and answer. “Cordy.”
“Hey pumpkin,” she says in a light airy voice. “And it’s Delia now, remember? When I’m calling as a realtor, it’s Delia.”
