Page 28

TWENTY-EIGHT

LUCAS

Theo’s not much of a fighter—he once bitch-slapped Blake rather than hit him—so I’m caught off guard when he tackles me like a WWE wrestler. I let him get in a free punch, figuring it’s deserved, but when he lands a second blow to my jaw, I retaliate with a solid hit to his stomach, causing him to double over. The media room erupts into chaos as we grapple in a flurry of fists and shouts. A group of team members rushes forward to intervene as we knock over a handful of plastic chairs, but Theo’s too consumed by his anger, screaming “how could you?” and “she’s my sister” while slamming into me, to notice.

“Enough!” David shouts, his booming voice cutting through the room. He grabs Theo by the collar and yanks him away from me while Mitchell helps me up and shoves me to the side to avoid another tussle.

This definitely wasn’t how I would have liked for Theo to find out. While I can understand his anger, he didn’t need to take it this far, especially so publicly. Charlotte rushes to me, her face twisted in apology and astonishment, completely missing the brief flash of betrayal on Theo’s face that her gut reaction is to comfort me.

David glares at us, his face a mask of fury. I’ve never seen our team principal so mad. Even after the Monaco Grand Prix when I crashed out and the Catalyst team principal went on record making disparaging comments about my driving and David’s leadership, he kept it cool. Looks like we finally found the line we can’t cross: brawling in a room full of reporters during a press conference.

“Go back to the motorhome.” He crosses his arms over his chest while a scowl rolls across his face like a thunderstorm. “Now.”

With a thick swallow, I turn to Charlotte with my own request. “Can you go back to the hotel? I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

The room’s already buzzing with murmurs and whispers, and there’s no doubt that news of the altercation will spread like wildfire. There’s no need for her to deal with the fallout alone.

She ignores my request, holding up a hand to my face but stopping millimeters away from touching me. “You’re bleeding.”

“Maybe I can borrow one of your tampons or pads,” I tease to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work. Charlotte’s brow furrows, and I use my thumbs to smooth out the lines creasing her forehead. “I’ll be fine, baby, but I need you to go back to the hotel so I don’t worry. Please?”

She nods, and Natalie, who’s appeared at her side, gently guides her away from the crowd. My assistant is definitely getting a raise . We’re all silent as we’re led to a conference room in the motorhome, where two medics are waiting to ascertain the severity of our injuries. Theo takes a seat on one side of the long executive-style table while I occupy the other. The medics spend a few minutes poking and prodding us before handing out ice packs and announcing that neither of us has any broken bones.

“I’d be happy to remedy that,” Theo comments, his voice harsh.

His manager, Keith, smacks him across the back of the head, forcing a grunt out of him, and mutters to keep his bloody trap shut . Smart advice. David is fuming in the corner of the room, his brown eyes flashing with anger. The moment the medics leave, he explodes like Mount Etna, spewing fire left and right. “Do you two have any idea what you’ve done?”

I shift uncomfortably. “We shouldn’t have?—”

“Save it, Adler,” David snaps. “Fighting at a press conference? Do you realize how unprofessional and childish that is? We’re a team, and you’re supposed to be role models for the sport, not street brawlers.”

Straightening, I rest my forearms on the table, lace my fingers, and will the anger roiling inside me to dissipate.

“You’re supposed to channel your aggression on the track, not against each other,” David says. “We have a good chance at winning the Constructors’ Championship. The last thing we need is your personal drama messing things up. Understood?”

I wipe a trickle of blood from my nose and nod, while Theo, who’s holding an icepack to his left eye, mumbles a “yeah.”

“Good,” he replies, his tone softening slightly. “Now. Find a way to resolve this. If it happens again, there will be serious consequences.”

With those parting words, he exits the room, leaving Theo, me, and our managers alone. I reach up to rub my cheek but flinch at the contact, a dull, throbbing ache forming. Taking a deep breath, I mentally prepare myself, because although this round with Theo may not be physical, it’s going to be no less painful .

“Which one of you wants to share what in the actual fuck that was?” Mitchell demands.

At the same time, Keith barks, “Start talking, you bloody idiots.”

“He’s fucking my sister.” Theo jams his finger in my direction. The pointing is unnecessary, since there’s no question he’s referring to me.

I puff out a deep breath, mustering the strength to remain calm. “I’m not fucking her, I’m d?—”

“Oh really?” he interrupts, his tone vicious. “You’re abstaining until marriage? Spare me.”

Nostrils flaring, I force another deep inhale. “What we’re doing isn’t fucking , it’s dating ,” I say, tamping down on the rage he inspires. All I want to do is shake him by the shoulders, but that will only escalate the situation. “What we have isn’t some casual dalliance, Theo. I care about her; I love her. I’m not using her for sex, for Christ’s sake. You know me better than that.”

He scoffs. “Apparently I don’t know you at all because my best friend wouldn’t sneak around behind my back with my sister for weeks .”

“I’ve known you for over twenty years, man. I have a pretty good grasp on how you react to news you don’t like,” I say, miraculously keeping my tone even. “Whether we told you the day we got together or now, you weren’t going to handle it well.”

Head dropped back, he huffs a breath. “And yet, you still decided it was a good idea.”

“Yes, because our relationship has nothing to do with you,” I reply easily. My heated conversation with Jesse flashes to the forefront of my mind, the parallels of the situations glaringly obvious. “I’m not going to turn down my chance at happiness simply because you don’t like the idea of us together. ”

Theo scowls, his blue eyes, so much like his sister’s, icy. “She needs to prioritize herself and her future, not you.”

That comment has my hackles raising. “She is focusing on herself,” I reply, a dry edge to my voice. “If anyone’s getting in the way of her future, it’s you, not me. You’re the one who treats her designs like they’re a silly way to pass the time instead of recognizing how they have the potential to launch her into a full-time career in fashion. And before you argue that if she were serious about design, she would’ve studied it in school, maybe you should ask yourself why she didn’t.”

Theo blinks, his mouth snapping shut. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“She got into FIT and turned down the opportunity, man.” I lower my head and give it a shake. “Your mom was struggling after your dad passed away, and rather than sharing the burden with you when you were already battling your own grief halfway around the world, she chose to stay local for college. She sacrificed her own dream so you could continue pursuing yours without extra stress. Now, for the first time in a long time, she’s feeling inspired to create and pursue something she loves.”

“I—”

“And the reason we waited so long to tell you? It was for you. She knew you’d be upset and didn’t want your feelings about us to affect your racing. So fuck off about knowing what’s best for her. Charlotte may be your little sister, but she’s also a grown woman with an insanely bright future ahead of her. And yeah, that future now includes me, and you bet your ass I’m going to be right beside her, supporting her.”

Theo doesn’t reply, but any signs of anger have been wiped from his features. His brows pinch together, a forlorn frown tilting his lips downward.

Standing, I adjust my race suit. Then I head toward the door, knowing I’ve already said too much. There’s no way for us to have a productive or meaningful conversation when we’re both this heated.

Gripping the handle, I turn over my shoulder and say, “I don’t want to fight with you, Theo. You’re my best friend and I love you; you mean a lot to me. But Charlotte? She means everything to me. So when you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.”

Charlotte’s chin deep in a lavender-scented bubble bath when I step inside my hotel room an hour later. Her wrinkly toes peek out, indicating that she’s been enveloped in the warm water for some time. The flickering candles on the counter cast a soft glow around the bathroom, but despite the serene atmosphere, there’s a crease between her brows and a small pout on her lips.

I rap my knuckles against the doorframe. “Hey, baby.”

Her eyes fly open, and she leans forward, as if to sit up, but I step forward and hold out a hand, stopping her. I kneel beside the tub and cup her face in my hands, admiring the color in her cheeks from time spent in the sun and the few small freckles that dot the bridge of her nose. I capture her mouth and nip gently at her lower lip before pulling back.

“Move forward a bit,” I instruct as I stand and tear my shirt over my head.

She obeys, making room for me to join her, and once I’ve dipped a toe in to test the temperature, I ease into the tub. The water sloshes as I settle in behind her and rest my legs on either side of her body. As the warmth engulfs me, soothing my sore side and tight muscles, a sigh works its way out of me.

“Lean back,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her waist.

Without a word, she rests her back against my chest and her head on my shoulder. Placing her hands on my thighs, she moves her thumb in slow, comforting circles. I squirm when she passes a particularly ticklish spot, and with a giggle that lifts my spirits a little, she moves her hand.

“I talked to my mum,” she says, tilting her head back.

Curiosity mixed with trepidation worms its way through me. “Yeah?” The word is rough, low. I clear my throat and try again. “What’d she say?”

The beaming smile she gives me relaxes me more than the bubble bath. “That she already considered you family, so this just cements it.”

“She’s not mad?”

With a snort, she shakes her head. “The only thing she’s mad about is not being told sooner, but she understands why I waited.”

Her assertion that her mom not know right away surprised me. The two of them are closer than any mother and daughter duo I’ve ever met. But she said that the more people Theo believed were keeping it from him, the more catastrophic the fallout would be.

“She also said that Theo’s sensitive and doesn’t like change, so it may take time for him to come around, but that once he does, he’s going to realize how special our relationship is.”

“Special, huh?” I ask with a chuckle, even as affection overtakes me.

“Mm-hmm,” she says, giving my thigh a light squeeze. “What happened after I left?”

I tip my head back, resting it on the edge of the tub. “David reamed us out for our behavior, which we deserved, and demanded we sort it out. And then, I, um, told Theo you got into FIT and why you didn’t go, and then I said a lot of other things that weren’t necessarily nice but were hard truths. I’m sorry; it just came out.”

Charlotte inhales deeply, her chest puffing out, before releasing it slowly. “Okay,” she hedges. “I suppose it could’ve been worse. You could’ve told him that I was the one who accidentally erased his progress in Grand Theft Auto V or that I don’t like reverse cowgirl because there’s nothing sexy about staring at a man’s hairy toes while trying to get off.”

I bury my face in the crook of her neck, and what starts as a low rumble in my chest bursts forth in a cascade of loud laughter that echoes off the tiles. “Does this mean you’re not mad?”

She sighs. “I’m definitely not pleased .” She splashes bubbles at me. “But it’s sort of hard to be upset while taking a bubble bath.”

Nodding, I grab a washcloth from the basket on the ledge behind me. I lather it with soap and gently massage her shoulders and arms in slow, rhythmic circles. The soothing motion releases the lingering tension in her muscles. Within minutes, she melts under my gentle touch. As I drag the cloth against the sides of her breasts and pert nipples, a surprised hum vibrates through her chest, and despite the warm water, she shivers in my arms. There’s no point in adjusting myself. I’ve been hard since the moment her naked body pressed against mine. But her cute, relaxed sighs only ramp up my need for her.

We stay in the bath until the water turns tepid and the bubbles on the surface have mostly dissipated. Wrapped in fluffy white towels, we collapse onto the bed, a comfortable mess of intertwined limbs. Charlotte smiles softly, her dimples popping, the blue in her eyes twinkling.

I slide both hands into her mass of curls, angling her head so I can kiss her pillowy lips. I lick hungrily into her mouth, the kiss heated, though it’s nothing like this afternoon. If that encounter was a firework, then this is a campfire, burning slow and long. It’s no less hot or intense, but there’s a different sort of intimacy and softness to it.

Ever impatient, Charlotte wiggles out of her towel and drapes her body over mine. Her skin, still warm from the bath, sticks to mine. With my hands pressed to her back, I tug her closer and lose myself in her taste and scent. We stay like that, trading drugging kisses, until she’s grinding against me, needing friction, and I’m grabbing her ass, urging her on.

“You want to ride me, baby?” I ask, using my tongue to track a path down her neck. “You want to sink that pretty pussy down on my cock and get yourself off?”

Her chest rises and falls, her breathing picking up, and the small whimper she makes sends amusement and affection through me.

“You do, don’t you? You want to wear yourself out and make a mess all over my cock.”

She nods, eyes wide and hungry, desperate for me and unashamed of it.

“I’m all yours, baby,” I breathe out, sinking back onto the pillows.

Straddling me, she angles to one side so she can grab a condom from the nightstand. Then she’s slipping it over my throbbing erection with practiced skill. I grab her hips to help position my length at her entrance, and as she sinks onto me, the noise she makes is damn near pornographic.

“Fuck,” I curse, my jaw tensing. Holy shit, I’m amazed I didn’t blow my load right there and then. “You’re always so goddamn tight for me.”

“Ever think that maybe you’re just well-endowed?” she asks through a groan.

I chuckle, but as she begins to move her hips in slow circles, her clit dragging against my pelvic bone, the sound is cut short. Resting her hands on my thighs behind her ass, she stabilizes herself, the move causing my muscles to tense automatically, as if preparing to be tickled. The sensation only lasts a moment, though, because as she starts to bounce over my cock, faster and faster, all thoughts that aren’t Charlotte and her pleasure fly out of my head.

I grasp her hips and give them a firm, encouraging squeeze, though I let her keep the pace. Her breasts bounce rhythmically, hypnotizing me. Being a boob man at heart, I can’t fucking help but be entranced. As heat curls up my spine, I take full advantage of my front-row seat, caressing her breasts, cupping their weight in my hands, and I tease her nipples between my index fingers and thumbs, luxuriating in the sound of her mewls.

Arching forward, I suck one into my mouth and scrape my teeth against the sensitive edges, then flick my tongue against the peak before switching to the other. Her pace stutters in response, so I pull her down, her chest meeting mine. I give her ass a small slap and thrust up into her, returning to the pace she previously set until we’re both chasing that familiar high.

“Feel good, baby?” I ask, cupping her ass.

“Mm-hmm,” she whimpers, fingers tangling in my hair, hazy eyes set on my face. “I’m gonna come soon.”

“There you go,” I praise through gritted teeth. “Fuck yes, baby. Just like that?—”

“Lucas, please?—”

“I know,” I soothe, pounding up into her. “I got you. Keep going. Take what you need.”

I disappear into the building pleasure as we keep rhythm, my lips finding hers in a passionate kiss that dampens the sound of our moans. As my deep pumps hit against that perfect spot inside her, she lets loose a soft cry of pleasure. Then she’s hurtling over the edge. At the sound of my name on her lips, the word a sacred prayer, my orgasm follows, and I bite down on her left breast, marking it with my own brand of tattoo, while groaning in blissful agony.

Charlotte collapses onto me in a heap of loose-limbed bliss, her breath fanning against my chest. She’s so content that she barely notices when I slip out from under her, then return a moment later with a small carton of juice from the mini fridge and a wet, warm washcloth. I place the juice on the bedside table, then get us both cleaned up before sliding under the duvet and curling my body against hers. She’s soft in my arms, and I revel in how the sensation acts as a salve for all my bumps and bruises.

Usually Charlotte loves pillow talk, but she’s quieter than usual. I don’t blame her, given what happened at the press conference, but wanting to check in, I ask, “What are you thinking about?”

Imagine my surprise when she casually says, “Crocs.”

“You hate my Crocs,” I remind her, shaking with laughter.

She hides them in the back of the closet in hopes that I’ll forget they’re there. I never do.

“I don’t hate them. Your love for them is just a beige flag,” she explains. “I was thinking that they’d be a great partnership opportunity for you. Some of their collaborations are actually kind of cool; those slides they made with Salehe Bembery were sick.”

I intertwine our fingers over my chest and press my lips against her temple. “Admit it. You’ve got a thing for my Crocs. Next thing I know, you’re going to want me to wear them during sex.”

She bursts out laughing, the sound soothing and melodious, even with the small snort punctuating it. Yeah, I may have a bruised cheekbone, a bloody nose, and sore ribs, but I’d take on Aaron “the Toybreaker” Zale if it meant being Charlotte’s.