Page 39 of Jump-Start
Rena’s surgery went well. Jack, Stu, Ellie, Andrew, Leonard, and I waited six hours in the emergency room a few days ago, but the doctor was positive about Rena making a full recovery soon. For now, she has to stay in the hospital, at least for another few days. Meanwhile, Leonard and I are halfway to France in his private jet when Benz decides to start barking at one of the flight attendants.
“Benz, quiet,” I command, and because Leonard trained her so well, she listens right away. I catch him staring at me from the seat across mine—he had to sit there and not in one of the other four seats. He’s been reading one of the books he bought for me, he gave them to me as soon as we got home from the bookstore, but he looks confused about something. “What?” I ask, trying to keep the amusement off my face. The plane shakes a little from turbulence, but Leonard continues watching me.
“Have you ever had someone fuck you like this?” he asks, sliding the book across the table between us. It’s opened on a sex scene where the couple is doing it in a barn, him thrusting inside of her rough and hard while spanking her ass. I smile at the page, feeling my clit ache in response to the thought of getting fucked like this.
“No, because this is fiction, Leonard. Men like him don’t exist in real life. He’s sweet to her but rough when she needs him to be. He makes sure she’s comfortable at all times and whispers the dirtiest and sexiest things into her ear too. Of course I haven’t been fucked like this. The men I’ve dated don’t even come close,” I explain, unashamed and unapologetic. Leonard, on the other hand, narrows his eyes at me.
“You mean that jerk Tyler and that other idiot Ian? I would be surprised if they even knew where the clit was.” Yeah, neither of them did, which is precisely why I didn’t have long relationships with them. “So, you’d like that?” Leonard goes on, pointing at the book in my hand. “Having rough sex in a somewhat public space?” I don’t know why he’s so interested in finding out my preferences, but I try not to read too much into it.
“I will let you know if I ever experience it in real life,” I reply and slide the book back toward him. He lets out a low humming sound before grabbing it and reading again.
“Jesus Christ,” Leonard blurts out after a while, and I lift my eyes from my own book to see him staring at the page in front of him. I can’t help but smile.
“What happened?” I ask, and he shakes his head, shock on his face.
“Have you read this?” I give him a nod, so he goes on. “The mum fucking betrayed the main characters. What the bloody hell, Chiara?” I grin at his genuine interest in a book I loved.
“It gets worse. Keep reading,” I say, causing his eyes to almost pop out of their sockets.
“Worse? Nah. I’m done. Take the book back.” I shake my head, so he holds it back up to his face and reimmerses himself in the story. I give Benz’s head a quick pat before catching Leonard’s eyes on my face again.
Things have been strange between us since the day of Rena’s accident. Surprisingly enough, they haven’t been strange in a bad way. We’ve both kept our distance from one another after what happened next to my car, but we’ve also been sharing wholesome moments, just like the one we had a minute ago. We’re somehow figuring out how to be around each other without causing the end of the world, and it’s refreshing. I’ve even considered the possibility of me enjoying Leonard’s presence.
It’s never been only the two of us. Graham was always there, so we never had the time to explore what it’d be like to sit on top of each other like we’re forced to do now. It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be. Not even close. We’ve made plans for the whole weekend. There is an event he plans on taking me to on Friday. It’s an immersive exhibit of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’ where a lot of famous and influential people will be. Leonard has also given me an itinerary of his work schedule and assured me Benz and I will have our own little area from where we will get to watch the free practices, quali, and the race. To give me peace of mind, he has thought of everything I could need and planned it all out with clear instructions.
I can’t help but glance up at him every once in a while, studying his sharp features, his clean-cut beard, the small nose piercing, which shouldn’t fit the rest of his exterior and personality but somehow makes sense. His lips are so full, it’s difficult not to imagine them wrapping around mine. I swallow hard at the visual floating into my mind, pushing it out as soon as I manage to calm the shivers running down my spine. It also doesn’t help that he keeps looking up at me through those thick eyelashes of his and with the warmth of his brown eyes. There is a hunger in them, one that sends a wave of heat between my legs and makes my nipples unbearably hard.
His gaze immediately drops to my chest, and I curse myself for wearing the thinnest sports bra I own. Leonard’s bottom lip slips between his teeth as he meets my eyes again, showing me how much he likes to see my body react like this. I can’t blame him either. Whenever I feel his hard cock against me—which has happened a lot more than it should have—it sends a thrill like no other through me. I like turning him on, like the control I have over him. It’s tempting and wrong, and I have no intention of acting on how I feel, but he’s attracted to me. I love that he wants me.
I stare out of the window at the white, fluffy clouds surrounding us and wonder how his fresh scent has somehow filled the entire private jet. It rushes into my bloodstream with every breath I take, but I have no desire to keep it out either. There is no use at this point.
He’s already consumed me in more ways than I can even begin to understand.
* * *
Leonard is takingme to dinner. Today is only Wednesday, which means he doesn’t have as much to do as the rest of the race weekend. Tomorrow, he will be busy with press conferences and other media responsibilities. Tonight, however, he is free, and he invited me to dinner. He also asked another driver to join us, but I’m not quite sure who it is.
The grumpy man across from me hasn’t said anything, merely stared at the skin-tight dress I put on and shook his head before scowling as usual. I’ve been staring at his all-black outfit—dress shirt and pants, and his boots—since he walked out of his room at the hotel.
“Is he always this late?” I ask when we’ve been sitting at our table for the past ten minutes.
“I don’t know. This is the first time I’m having dinner with him,” Leonard replies, causing my eyes to go wide.
“Oh,” I blurt out, unable to contain my surprise. “Is he nice?” He shrugs.
“He’s young and gets overly excited.” I’m about to ask why he invited him when Leonard adds, “And kind. He’s been very kind to me.” His words are soft and vulnerable, tugging at something inside of me until my hand is inching toward him. He meets me halfway, our fingers brushing against one another’s. Electricity shoots through me at the contact until it’s cursing through my veins.
“Hello, sorry I’m late. I came straight from the airport,” a male’s voice says, interrupting our moment and forcing us to pull our hands away. “Shit, did I interrupt something?” the tall man with blonde hair, light skin, and beautiful green and blue eyes asks, and Leonard and I both stand up to greet him. The longer I study him, the more I realize I know his name, I’ve seen him during race weekends, but it seems to have slipped my mind.
“Not at all. It’s nice to see you,” Leonard says, earning himself a bright smile from the young man whose hand he’s shaking.
Adrian Romana. The name pops into my head as soon as our eyes meet. He’s a rookie this year, driving alongside Cameron Kion for McLaren. He’s also drop-dead gorgeous and a flirt. I see it the second a cocky smirk slips across his face and he lifts my hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of it.
“Enchanté, mademoiselle. Tu es trés belle,” he says, and I roll my eyes a little at his cheesy yet adorable advance.
“And you are a little young for me,” I reply, and he lets go of my hand, placing his over his chest.
“I have many questions. First, you speak French?” His eyes light up, and we sit down together where I drag my glass of water toward me.
