The first thrust is slow. The pressure it builds in me tears away at any filter I may have had at some point. I gasp, and he groans, moves back slightly before another thrust, this one with much more purpose. Something about us is perfect. It’s not like everything else before this; it’s effortless. Stars dance before my closed eyelids like Darien’s shimmering diamond earrings. Every time he pulls away and comes back to me is a new wave of thrill that fills my abdomen and releases a loud moan from my body.
He replies with a grunted ‘Shit, Shanni,’ and the rhythm of every beat of my pulse matches our movement. My muscles are shaking with anticipation; I hang on to Darien for dear life. His breathing is heavy and fast against my neck, his arm wrapped around me to leave as little a gap between our bodies as possible. It is absolutely surreal that I thought I could keep suppressing how badly Ineededhim. He does everything right, from the way it feels like we were made for one another, to the way my name is tangled in his gasps, to the way he balances a little bit of passion with a little bit of wild. His hand finds the back of my head, shielding it from the wall, taking the brunt of the impact with his forearm. I kiss him sloppily, my ability to stand on my own two feet waning and the pressure mounting.
‘I’m so close, Dar,’ I whimper, kissing him again. ‘I’m …’
‘Hang on,mina.’ He shifts slightly, and thenholy crap.
People use the term ‘toe-curling’, but that is what this feeling is. My soul nearly leaves my body as I cry out his name, over and over, squeezing my eyes shut to relish every moment of this.
I have barely enough in me to keep going, but I anchormyself to Darien and give him the extra push over the edge that it takes for that beautiful sound of bliss to leave him. I feel him quiver with the same ecstasy that still fills me as he gasps for breath. My fingers trace the tattoos that cover his arms. It’s a good few moments before we pull apart, making me feel as if I am missing a part of myself when I lean against Darien with a contented sigh.
We clean up, return the fallen soap bottle to its spot in the shower. Darien wraps me in a fluffy white robe, nothing but a towel around his waist so I can still take in his strong form and inhale his fresh scent of sandalwood. Then, both of us completely spent, we curl up in bed, me wearing his pajamas, him enveloping me with his warm arms, his head against my chest. I run my hands through his slightly damp waves of hair, follow the light streaks of blond.
‘Shanni, I’ve never …’
His sleepy voice catches me off-guard, halfway between waking and out cold. He pulls away, levelling his eyes with mine. There’s a dopey smile on his face and in his half-lidded irises. Maybe he’s not fully aware of what he says next, but I will never forget it.
‘Never met a woman who … gives me goosebumps the way you do. You give me the damn chills, lady.’
‘I’d better, the way I’m going to make sure you do your exercises this week,’ I mumble with a giggle.
Darien laughs, a low rumble that I can feel in my own chest, as he burrows his head in the crook of my neck. ‘I’ll take it.’
I think for a brief moment about sleeping in and missing our flight out to the next race, but that’s second to the gravity of where we are right now. We forget about leaving. We simply feel one another.
Chapter Forty-One
Shantal
‘The numbers from Imola were slightly off in some places, but I believe, given the constraints, there’s clearly a trend upward there.’
I nod, maybe a little too vigorously, but I’m relieved. With Conquest, I don’t particularly remember having a fear of my boss—he tends to be the conduit rather than the final say. During the Crystal Palace project, it was the team’s manager who had the authority to disband our arm of the training division. So it’s a weight off my shoulders when Afshin Demir sings my praises to Conquest over this end-of-half-season video call.
My boss, an older middle-aged man named Paul Marchese who’d once (allegedly) shaken hands with the Queen, beams from his little rectangle on my screen beside Demir. ‘I’ve received the data. Shantal, I have to agree with Mr Demir. It’s a pleasure to see such improvement. Even after Heidelberg’s team fed it through the software to make sure we aren’t looking at anincrease in lap times due to the car or the drivers – thank you, Mr Demir, for that – it’s brilliant data. We see this excellent curve when we look at Darien and Miguel’s turn times from last year moving on to this one, and factoring out the handling on the vehicles, their reaction times are beautiful.’
‘And those are the little things. We haven’t even mentioned the trophies,’ points out Demir with a smile. ‘This is the most successful season Heidelberg Hybridge has enjoyed in a long time. Mr Marchese and Ms Mangal, I don’t believe I can thank your team enough. So Ms Mangal, we would be delighted should you choose to remain with us for the rest of the season. I’m sure our staff and drivers would absolutely appreciate it.’
I peer at Marchese’s rectangle to gauge his reaction, and it’s a series of excited nods as vigorous as mine.
‘Of course, we completely understand if you would like to return to—’
‘I’dloveto stay on,’ I blurt suddenly.
For a minute, I think I’m screwed, having cut off the team principal of Heidelberg Hybridge in his own video call, but a grin quickly spreads across his face. ‘Oh,wonderful.’
The call ends with all kinds of gushing and pleasantries, and when I close my laptop, I can’t quite believe what I’ve done.
I was the one with the least hope when I arrived here. I remember the way my blood seemed to freeze when I thought about doing any of this on my own. But now I have proved myself. The data curves, in true sports-nerd fashion, still flash before my vision.Brilliant data.Data we developed the mechanism for.
I get up from my desk chair and push it in, adjusting Sonia’s ever-present photo. Her smile seems a little bigger. A little more optimistic.
‘I’ll get until December now,’ I tell her. ‘Among the stars. You’d love it. And I guess, maybe … you’d love him.’
It almost makes me laugh to myself. It feels like the ground has moved beneath my feet since the events of just a few days back. I wonder if that has to do with how badly my thawing heart seems to want to make room for someone else. And I can’t say I don’t crave the stolen glances, the minute touches, the air of shared understanding. The feeling of that kiss in Imola.
‘Among the stars,’ I repeat. Darien’s got some recovery to do, but the team is on the rise. I’ve earned myself approval, and more time here. Time to befree.
Perhaps the stars are closer than I ever imagined they could be.
