Page 20 of Drive Me Wild (Drive Me #2)
TWENTY
JOSIE
I never thought I’d compare myself to a rotisserie chicken, but thanks to the Singapore heat, that’s exactly what’s happening. I chug ice water in the cafeteria, but sweat it out almost immediately. So much for staying hydrated. Theo walking around shirtless isn’t helping my body temperature go down, either. Sweat just adds to his raw sexual appeal.
“I’m in love,” Ella announces. She sits in the chair across from me and rests her chin in her hands.
Despite the fog my brain seems to be caught in, I still manage to sing the opening lines of “I’m ‘N Luv (With a Stripper).”
“David Green is not a stripper.” Ella laughs, her dimple winking. “Although I’m sure he’d look good in minimal clothing.”
I’ve never personally met David, but I know damn well who he is considering I’ve married and smashed him in multiple games of Bang, Smash, Dash in the past year. Besides being the youngest team principal in Formula 1 history, he’s also the most attractive. AlphaVite is flourishing under his leadership and came in second for last season’s Constructors’ Championship, beating out Everest.
“You interviewed him?”
“Yes!” Ella wiggles her shoulders in excitement. “He was so sweet. He even gave me an AlphaVite hat, although I think Blake will go into cardiac arrest if he sees it.”
Blake thinks anyone who’s near Ella is automatically in love with her, but he’s been very chill about her spending time with other teams. He understands its part of her job and is just happy to have her at the Grand Prix with him. Wearing another team’s merchandise is where he draws the line, though.
Ella fills me in on her interview, adding in details she knows I’ll appreciate—like the fact that David enjoys cooking and prefers workout classes to running outside. She also points out that he’s single. He’s thirty-seven, which is a bit out of my age range, plus I can’t handle sleeping with more than one person at a time. Not that Ella knows I’m even sleeping with one person.
I tune in and out of the conversation, my mind circling back to my conversation with Rhys from yesterday morning.
“Josephine!” Rhys greets me. His straw-blonde hair is slicked back like he’s in Grease . If he were holding a cigarette and wearing a leather jacket, he’d for sure be a John Travolta groupie. Instead, he’s in his classic uniform—a white McAllister polo, black slacks, and bright white trainers. A classic ‘dad uniform,’ minus the kids and minivan. “Come in, come in.”
I slip into the sleek conference room titled Progress, praying it’s a good omen.
“Got your email,” he says with a smile. “And love where your head is at. Always driving innovation.”
“That is the motto, right?” I smile and sit in the padded desk chair next to him.
McAllister may drive innovation, but this room may also drive someone to a psych ward. It’s like a creepy shrine to Blake and Theo. Every available wall surface is plastered with their photos. Blake’s feature a stoic look of determination, whereas Theo’s feature his carefree, boyish smile.
“All of your ideas are great.” I sense a but coming, and right on cue, he continues, “But our marketing plans for the rest of the season are locked in.”
“What about implementing them next season?”
“You know how the big guys feel. There’s no need to rework the wheel if it’s driving just fine.”
Rhys is technically one of those big guys, but whatever.
“Earth to Jos?” A finger snaps wildly in front of my face. “You good over there?”
I take a long sip of my water. “Mm-hmm. Just overheated, I think.”
She nods sympathetically. “I feel you. I’m drained. Plus, I slept like shit. This hotel has the world’s hardest beds, don’t you think?”
“Not comfy at all.”
I hate lying, but my only other option is to admit that I can’t relate because Theo’s bed is heavenly. He not only has his own sheets, comforter, and pillows sent to every Grand Prix ahead of his arrival, he has a Tempur-Pedic mattress topper flown in, too. We’ve come up with an unspoken agreement that in London we stay at my place, but at races, we stay in his hotel room.
I force out a yawn to back up my fib. “Sorry about spacing. What were you saying about AlphaVite’s marketing plan? They want to do driver-cam vlogs?”
Ella entertains me with stories of her interview until it’s time to head to the pit. It’s thankfully a night race, so it’s cooled down a bit by the time we leave the air-conditioned cafeteria.
Blake starts in pole and keeps his position until he crashes in lap twenty-seven and is forced to retire early. If there wasn’t steam coming off his body because of the heat, there’d be steam pouring out of his ears in anger. Harry Thompson better hide unless he wants to face the wrath of Blake.
Blake and Harry exiting the race leaves Theo with a massive opportunity to win. And he does by a whopping seven-point-four seconds. It’s not his first podium win in Singapore, but it is his first first-place win and the celebrations begin the moment the podium ceremony is over.
Rather than go to a club, we swap out flashing strobe lights for a dive bar where neon beer signs cover the walls. Heading to a table toward the back, I pass inebriated patrons yelling at one another over the loud music, making it hard to hear my own thoughts. Maybe that’s for the best.
“Shouldn’t drive innovation apply to all aspects of the company?” I push Rhys, not ready to give up on the brilliant—if I do say so myself—ideas I’d sent him in a very lovely presentation. “Not just the engines and technology?”
Rhys gives me a weighted smile. “Listen, Jos, you’re one of the best. And I know the whole team appreciates your work, but as far as our shareholders are concerned, we’re crushing it. We’re generating revenue, and just because our campaigns don’t include influencers or TikTok, doesn’t make them any less successful, you know?”
I nod dutifully. What else am I supposed to do? Throw a fit? Storm out of here? Stomp my feet until I get my way?
“I’ll bring some of these up at the next director’s meeting,” he compromises. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
I settle in a seat between Ella and a driver she’s interviewing for her podcast next week. The two of them talk to one another while I sip my drink, thankful I don’t have to participate in the conversation. Between my unsuccessful meeting with Rhys and the sauna I’ve been in for the past three days, I’m emotionally and physically drained.
My eyes wander around the bar, noting things I like and dislike. Since Kelsey’s approval—and complete obsession—of the brand guidelines and content strategy plan I sent him, it’s been full steam ahead. Now my brain is constantly cataloging new ideas for the bar, especially in comparison to the places I’ve been to while traveling with McAllister.
Will we feature local beers on tap to ingratiate ourselves into the neighborhood? Do we want to do any cross-promotions with neighboring stores? Should we give into the alcoholic seltzer trend or explicitly stick to a more traditional beers, liquor, and wine menu?
Half an hour later, my phone buzzes with a text from Theo. He’s sitting only a few seats away but is in conversation with Lucas about something or other. I’ve been too distracted to eavesdrop.
Theo Walker
Everything peachy, princess? Awfully quiet over there.
I glance up to find him staring at me with hypnotic intensity. The soft, questioning look in his eyes contrasts with the sharp downturn of his lips. The urge to run my fingers through his hair and wrap my arms around his neck comes on so suddenly, I forget to breathe.
Josie Bancroft
Meet me in the bathroom?
Theo’s face goes from concerned to confused to completely turned on in the span of three seconds. This is not my style, at all . But I don’t care. Right now, all I want is Theo. His body, his hands, his lips. The perfect distraction. I don’t wait for his answer, instead standing from the table and mumbling something about getting a new drink.
There’s a large crowd hovering in front of the women’s bathroom—because of course there is—but no line to get into the men’s. Fuck it. Maybe it’s my buzz, or the heat, or the intense desire to have Theo kiss away every ounce of frustration I’m feeling, but fuck it. I push open the door, praying he’s not far behind me.
The sound of the lock clicking into place behind him as he walks into the bathroom emboldens me. I pull him in by his belt loops, our thighs pressed against one another. Theo lets out a noise that’s half-chuckle, half-groan. “Bathroom sex, angel? Didn’t think you’d?—”
My lips crash into his in a demanding manner. Theo doesn’t question my sudden neediness. He meets me halfway, parting my lips with his wet tongue, tangling it with mine. I run my hands through his smooth hair, and he moans deeply in response.
The kiss doesn’t alleviate the craving I have for him; it makes it worse. It’s a battle of desire, except we may explode in flames before we find out who wins. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth to nibble on and sate my ache.
I need him. Need this.
Theo places his hands on my hips and effortlessly lifts me, placing me on the edge of the sink. My breath hitches in my chest as he scrunches my skirt up around my waist and teases my lace thong to the side. I spread my legs and when he glides a finger against me, I lean into his touch, desperate for it.
“Always so wet for me, gorgeous,” he groans deeply. “Love getting you all worked up like this.”
I don’t think he’ll ever stop getting me worked up like this. My body is a fuse begging to be lit by his flame. I’m glad the music in the bar is loud because I can’t stop the noises that slip through my lips as he slowly twists two fingers inside me. I’m fighting for my breath as he massages the sensitive spot inside, the heel of his hand rubbing against my clit.
Theo tugs the end of my ponytail so my neck’s exposed and swirls his tongue around the sensitive spot right above my collarbone. He sucks the skin harshly, but I don’t care about the deep red spots that will no doubt mark my skin.
“Do you know how goddamn sexy you are?” Theo murmurs into my ear. “Want you all the damn time. Can’t ever get enough of you.”
My legs shake as the familiar tightening in my stomach spirals south. The soul-shattering intensity of my climax is overwhelming. It’s a rush so intense that it grabs a hold of me and doesn’t let go. But the moans slipping through my lips quickly turn to strangled gasps as tears that have been sitting latent beneath the surface fall down my cheeks like a torrential storm.
I cover my face with my hands as my chest caves inward. Hi, and welcome to my own personal hell: crying after an orgasm! Unrestrained sobs wrack my body, every one of my limbs feeling thick with embarrassment and emotion.
Theo’s voice is laced with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”
My throat aches too badly to get a word out, so I just shake my head no . He reaches out and cups my cheeks with his calloused hands. “Say something. Please. You’re freaking me out, baby.”
God only knows how I look. I’m not a cute crier, far from it. My face gets splotchy and red, like I’m having some sort of allergic reaction. My eyes focus on Theo’s face—the deep blue of his eyes, the frown marking his usually smiling lips. It just makes me cry harder.
Theo doesn’t say anything else. He simply wraps his arms around me as I crumble against his sturdy body. He murmurs sweet nothings into my ear, stroking my back in a soothing motion. His arms around me feel like a weighted blanket, and my breathing eventually steadies to a pace that wouldn’t make a doctor panic.
“Are you oka?—”
He’s cut off by someone aggressively smacking the bathroom door, and my head jerks up at the interruption. The man is not happy about the door being locked and shares some not very nice words to tell us this.
“Piss off, will ya?” Theo shouts. “We’re busy.”
“Screw somewhere else!” a gruff voice yells back. “Some of us need to take a piss!”
“We’re trying to repopulate the earth because there’s an impending apocalypse, so fuck the fuck off, you douche canoe.”
I half-laugh, half-sniffle. “An apocalypse? Really, babes?”
“I will break this door down,” the guy screams.
Theo blows a puff of air out of his cheeks. “Do you know who Blake Hollis is?”
There’s a long pause before the voice says, “Yes.”
“Well, he doesn’t like when people give his friends a hard time, so I suggest taking a piss in the goddamn women’s bathroom or I will personally have Mr. Hollis remove you from the premises.”
Pressing my face into his chest, I let loose a long laugh. Did he seriously just use Blake as his guard dog? We hear the man swear loudly, but thirty seconds later, the shadow of his footsteps disappears from beneath the door.
“I look like a marshmallow.” I sniffle, lifting my head up. “I’m all puffy.”
Theo presses his lips together to stop his lips from curling up. “I’ve always had a weakness for s’mores.”
I laugh as Theo wipes my remaining tears with the back of his hand. I thought this would make me feel better, not make me bawl my eyes out on a bathroom sink post-orgasm. “God, what the hell is wrong with me?”
“There’s a laundry list of things wrong with you, angel.” He chuckles. “You call lizards baby dragons, you don’t like bacon but think chunky peanut butter is acceptable, and you thought the Game of Thrones series finale made sense. Oh, and don’t even get me started on the fact that you think orange Starbursts are the best ones.”
“You refer to mayonnaise as egg butter !” I argue. “And think that duels should be brought back as a legitimate form of fighting.”
“Well, you eat waffles without syrup.”
“You refuse to eat raisins because you think they look like tiny nut sacks,” I huff. “And I meant something’s wrong with me because I just cried after… coming.”
Even saying it makes my cheeks sting. This is, hands-down, the most embarrassing sexual experience I’ve ever had.
“I once cried after a blowjob,” Theo says, completely serious. “If it makes you feel any better.”
I truly can’t tell if he’s kidding or not. “Wait, what?”
“This chick went down on me after eating super spicy food. It was so painful; it felt like fire ants had crawled up my dick and were attacking me. I swear to God, I thought it was about to fall off, Bancroft. I called Russell in hysterics.”
Slapping my hand over my mouth, I desperately try to swallow down a giggle. “That does make me feel slightly better.”
Theo grins as he laughs. “So at least you got a good orgasm out of your cry. All I got were blue balls.”
I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hands as he spreads his fingers across my bare thighs. “Can I have a re-do later?”
“Absolutely.” Theo swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “But I’m holding Theo Jr. hostage until you tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s stupid,” I mumble.
He shakes his head. “Not if it made you cry.”
“I’m just…” I pause, trying to come up with the right word, “discouraged, I guess. I finally met with Rhys to discuss the stuff you saw in my notebook, and he more or less told me that we can’t do any of it. The same shit he always says. And I’ve worked with Kelsey for only a few weeks, and he’s given me free reign to try new things out and think outside the box. It’s making me realize that McAllister may value the work I do, but not enough to take any of my ideas into consideration and implement real changes, you know?” I shrink into my shoulders, wanting to hide from his almost-accusatory stare. “So yeah, frustrated.”
“I had no idea you felt this way, Jos,” he says, his voice softening. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
Because I didn’t realize how frustrated I was until I started working with Kelsey. Because I’m worried if I do tell you these things, I’ll become too dependent. Because I’m falling for you, even though I know I shouldn’t be.
I can’t tell him any of this, so instead I say, “Because you live and breathe McAllister, Walker.”
He nods pensively. “Yeah, but I came out of the womb knowing I wanted to race for them. This has always been my dream, and I get to wake up every morning and live it. I don’t mean to discredit your work because you know I think you’re fantastic at what you do, but I don’t think McAllister is necessarily the end all, be all for you.”
My shoulders slightly relax as he gives it an encouraging squeeze. “No?”
“I mean, if you start freelancing for another team, I will go full-blown Blake, but other than that, no. You’re smart, talented, very skilled—in and out of the bedroom. Kelsey’s lucky to have you for the next few months. And honestly? I think it’s rather selfish of you to not share your talents with more people. So, side hustle your heart away, baby.”
His approval means a lot to me. Not because I need it, but because I value it.
“Well, maybe not all of your talents,” he amends. “I’d like that thing you do with your tongue to be specially reserved for me.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, nodding with a laugh. “The tongue thing is all yours, babes.”
“Good.” He gently kisses my head before grabbing me by the waist and helping me off the sink. “Now, can we get out of here? God knows the last time they cleaned these counters. Christ, I can’t believe we almost had sex in a bathroom. What are you doing to me, Bancroft?”
The same damn thing he’s doing to me. I’m supposed to be focusing on myself, not complicating my life by falling for Theo, yet I no longer have any idea where the invisible line between purely platonic and strictly sexual falls.