Page 91 of Overtake
I frown, then look up at him. Maybe this is beyond the scope of his duties, but he’s always there, always watching. And I trust his judgment. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“Only to keep you safe.”
I squint at him, considering that answer. “If Nico was one of those situations in a crowd when you take my hand and lead me. Would you pull me toward him or away?”
A smile ghosts across his mouth. “Toward, Ms. Hayter.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely.”
I smile back. “Thanks, Rigo.”
“You’re welcome. Will there be anything else?”
“No. Not tonight.” I open my door.
“Goodnight then, Ms. Hayter.”
“Goodnight, Rigo. Thanks again.”
“My pleasure.”
Finally alone, I wash my hair and take a long, hot bath, soaking away race day fatigue. Room service delivers exactly what Cin and my nutritionist ordered—protein, complex carbs, nothing too heavy before bed.
I definitely don’t check my phone a million times. Definitely don’t wonder what Nico’s doing, or if he’s thinking about me as much as I am about him.
After eating, I brush my teeth then square up before the bathroom mirror for a proper telling-off.
“Petra Hayter, you’re not some teenage girl mooning over her first kiss. You’re a professional driver who won the United StatesGrand Prix only hours ago. And he’s just Nico, the shy Spanish kid who used to piss you off on the track every weekend. And still does. Stop being such a plonker. If you want to fuck him, just bloody well fuck him. No need to second guess and analyze the shit out of everything.”
A knock interrupts my pep talk. Plonker Petra hustles to open it.
God, I’m thirsty as hell for this man.
When I open the door, Nico stands there looking exactly like everything I’ve been trying not to think about. Handsome, sexy, and… sweet.
“Hola.”His grey eyes darken as they travel from my bare legs up to where my damp hair curls against my thin white tank top.
“Hi, yourself.” I move aside to let him in. “Successful escape from our rabid fans?”
“Eventually.” He enters, letting the door close behind him. “It’s hard to say, “No,” to people wearing rabbit ears.”
“Poor Conejo.” But I’m already stepping closer, drawn by whatever this is between us. “Suffering through your own fan club.”
“I resent how long I’ve had to wait to do this again.”
He catches my hip and the back of my neck, pulls me tight to his body and kisses me like a champion. No cameras, no audience, no reason to hold back. The kiss is all heat and want and perfect friction.
“Been thinking about this all fucking day,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Prove it.”
The growl that escapes his throat unleashes heat between my legs. Then his mouth is on my neck, hands sliding under my tank top, and thinking becomes remarkably difficult.
“Bed?” I ask, breathless.
“Absolutamente.”
