Page 19

CHAPTER 19

Lex

I collapse onto Posey’s warm body, my cock still thick inside her, even though I just had the king of all orgasms. How many times over my sexual life have I rolled right off a woman because I was just done with her?

How many times will I lie like this with Posey, inside her, not wanting to move?

I nuzzle into her neck, loving the way her fingertips glide gently back and forth over my lower back. She lets out a contented sigh and the only thing that has me moving is that I don’t want to suffocate her. I roll slowly, taking her with me, one leg locked around hers to keep us joined.

She gasps at the sensation but then settles flush against my body.

We’re silent and it’s comfortable, the electric pulse of the party at the Bahrain World Trade Center already long forgotten. I’m keenly aware that my time with Posey is quickly coming to an end. Sure, we’ve agreed to figure out a way to give this a go, but we’re talking about a long-distance relationship and it’s not settling well with me.

I’ve gone from not ever having a committed relationship nor wanting one to now being put out that I’m stuck with a long-distance relationship. Would it freak Posey out to know that I want her by my side all the time? Because I know it sure freaks me out… this intense new need I have for her, not just physically, but in all ways.

On top of that, starting tomorrow, I’ll be entering race mode and my days will be so jam-packed, I won’t see her except in the evenings like this. While the sex is fucking fantastic, I want more of her this week.

“It’s going to get crazy starting tomorrow,” I say.

“I know,” she whispers almost sadly. “Harley graciously gave me a schedule so I could entertain myself because you’re going to be out-of-pocket most of the time.”

Tomorrow is Wednesday and it’s nothing but nose to the grindstone until those five lights wink out to signify the start of the race. The cars will go through a mandated regulatory inspection and then the engineers will start configuring the cars’ settings to adjust to the demands of this particular track and weather conditions. Adjustments such as suspension settings, wing angles and brake configurations will be made. Ronan and I won’t be involved at this stage, but we will later walk the entire track with the engineers to discuss specific points that could affect our strategy.

Most of our day will be spent in back-to-back media conferences where we’ll be grilled about our season prep and expectations, both those we have on ourselves and what others want. I don’t mind the press duties, but they are my least favorite thing to do during race week.

“Will I be able to watch you on the track?” Posey asks. “It’s on the schedule but I don’t know if I’m welcome there.”

I lift my head to look at her. “Why wouldn’t you be welcome?”

“I don’t want to overstep my bounds with you. You may not want me watching. I know how important your focus is.”

“Trust me, I want you there. I won’t be able to actually talk to you, but I’d love your eyes on me. I know I’ll perform better.”

She beams and snuggles back into me. “Tell me more about what to expect during the practice and qualifying rounds.”

I launch into a teaching session, not only to help her with her romance novel, but because as my girlfriend—yes, I said it—she’ll end up knowing this sport inside and out.

“Practice is pretty straightforward. There are three sessions—two on Friday and one on Saturday morning. Its purpose is to let all the drivers get a feel for the track and use that to change any strategies, fine-tune the car and the like.”

“That doesn’t sound too stressful. What about qualifying? I understand that it’s basically to get your starting place on the grid, but I’m not sure how it’s done. Do you all just go out and run balls to the wall and whoever is the fastest starts first?”

I can’t help but chuckle. “If only it were that easy, but qualifying is a process. You know that there are three rounds, right?”

She nods against my chest. “Q1, Q2 and Q3.”

“The first round, the five slowest drivers are eliminated.”

“Do you go out individually?”

“No. It’s an open session in Q1, meaning all drivers get eighteen minutes to set our fastest lap. Not all drivers will go out immediately as we’ll strategize best options, depending on traffic and track conditions.”

“Sounds like timing is everything.”

“Exactly. You don’t want to get caught behind someone slower because it can ruin your lap. But you also don’t want to be out there too early when the track conditions might not be optimal. The team monitors everything in real time, so there’s a lot of strategy involved.”

“And Q2?” she inquires.

“Same thing. Five more drivers eliminated, but now you have fifteen minutes to get your fastest lap. Except there’s a twist,” I say, my tone sly. “They instituted a new rule this year that the ten drivers who make it to Q3 must start the race on the tires they set their fastest lap on in Q2.”

“Wait! What?” she asks, her head popping up and eyebrows furrowed. “That’s very confusing. And what tires do they use in Q3? I don’t understand.”

I laugh softly and pull her head close, shifting my body so she’s sprawled across my chest, my fingertips stroking her soft locks. “Enough lessons for tonight. It’s getting late and I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

Posey immediately settles, her body going heavy. “Okay. But you need to teach me more about qualifying before Saturday rolls around.”

“Deal,” I promise, twisting my neck to press a kiss to her forehead.

She’s silent a moment, then says, “It’s all so intense. I can’t imagine the pressure of knowing that one mistake could cost you everything.”

“Happens all the time.” God knows it’s happened to me on more than one occasion. “But that’s what makes it fun. The adrenaline, the split-second decisions… that’s what I live for.”

“I’m nervous for you,” she whispers, her breath fanning over my chest. “I know it’s ridiculous because you’ve done this a million times, but… I guess now that things between us have changed, I feel more… invested.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I reassure her, my arm tightening around her waist. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and I know how to handle myself out there. But I have to admit… it’s nice having someone worrying about me other than my parents. Knowing I’ve got you in my corner feels… right.”

She sighs. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No.” I wrap both my arms around her. “You being here… it matters. More than anything.”

“It matters to me too,” she says sleepily and those words… the things they do to me.

Posey falls asleep and I listen to her steady breathing for a while before I finally drift off into a perfectly contented slumber.