Page 13 of Formula Freedom (Race Fever #3)

Lara

I hold my breath as Reid stares down at me, guilty about asking for something that maybe I don’t have a right to, but I won’t take back the words.

I won’t take back the kiss I initiated.

I’ve made a thousand decisions in the last week—some terrifying, some overdue—but this one is the clearest of them all.

I want this.

Thank God he does too. I can see it in his eyes.

Then his mouth is on mine, his kiss is soft, but the second I lean into it—pressing my body fully to his—it changes. Deepens. His hands tighten at my waist and pull me closer, and I let myself fall into it, let myself believe for just a little while that everything outside this suite can wait.

His mouth moves against mine and I remember what it was like. Before everything got complicated. Before Lance. Before time and distance convinced me that Reid and I had missed our chance.

Now, I don’t know what this is, but I know how it feels.

Like home.

I gasp when his hands slide beneath the hem of my shirt, palms warm and steady as they skim up my rib cage. My breath catches when his fingers reach my bra, easing under the cup until they find my nipple.

I suck in a breath at the contact—sharp, immediate—and Reid groans softly in response, his hips shifting just enough that his hard length pushes against me.

God. “Please don’t stop,” I plead without shame.

“Not going to,” he murmurs, and euphoria hits me hard.

Heat rolls through me, pooling low in my belly, and my body arches into him before I can stop it.

I’m shocked at my own hunger—how fast and desperate this need has returned.

But there’s no hesitation in him, no fumbling or second-guessing.

Just Reid, exactly as I remember—certain and present and in full control of his body and mine.

When he kisses down my neck, teeth grazing lightly over my skin, I let out a low sound I don’t recognize. My knees go weak. My fingers dig into his shoulders, and I whisper his name like it’s the only thing I can manage.

He pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes search mine—checking in, making sure.

I nod, breathless. “Yes. I want this. I want you.”

Reid doesn’t smile, but something in his face softens, and then he kisses me again—deeper this time. Slower. Like we have nowhere to be but here, like this moment is enough.

His hands drop to the button of my jeans and I help him—fumbling between us, eager and flushed.

When his fingers slide past the waistband of my underwear to touch me, I gasp and press my forehead into his shoulder.

He strokes me gently, then firmer, finding a rhythm that sends sparks up and down my spine.

I cling to him, already close, already spiraling.

But before I can fall over the edge, he pulls his hand away.

I whimper, the loss almost painful, but then he lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist, gripping his shoulders for balance as he walks us through the suite.

“Which one?” he murmurs, his voice rough and low.

I nod toward the bedroom he’s been sleeping in. “Right.”

He nudges the door open with his foot and carries me to the bed, setting me down gently on the duvet. When he steps back, I prop myself on my elbows and watch as he walks across the room to flip on the light.

Warm yellow floods the space, and for a moment he just stands there, taking me in.

Not with judgment. Not with regret.

With reverence.

He returns to the bed slowly, his gaze never leaving mine as he helps me undress. Every movement is careful, not rushed. He peels my jeans down, then my panties, and when I’m finally bare beneath him, his eyes darken.

He takes off his shirt, followed by the rest of his clothes. As I watch every inch of skin reveal itself, heat blooms in my chest, spreading outward. Not just desire, something deeper. Something safer.

When he stretches over me, his body fits perfectly between my thighs. He holds himself up on his elbows, staring down at me, and the weight of his gaze makes my breath catch again.

“I missed you,” I whisper.

He doesn’t answer with words. He just kisses me, deep and sure.

And I stop thinking entirely.

Reid kisses me like he knows this moment matters—not just physically, but for everything that’s come before. For all the words we haven’t said and the years we spent tiptoeing along the edges of something we never gave ourselves permission to explore.

His hand trails down the center of my body, fingertips gliding across my stomach, then lower. When his fingers slip between my thighs again, it’s with confidence, care and no hesitation. My hips rise to meet his touch, a gasp slipping from my lips.

God, it’s been so long since I’ve felt like this. Since I’ve felt like me .

He strokes me slowly, learning every sound I make, every shiver and roll of my hips, until I’m trembling with need. He knows what he’s doing—always has—and he’s so attuned to my body, I forget how to think.

When I reach down and wrap my hand around him, he lets out a rough exhale against my neck. I stroke him slowly, savoring the weight and heat of him in my palm. The rhythm we find is instinctual, like no time has passed at all, like this has been waiting for us all along.

Our lips meet again—open-mouthed, breathless—and it’s messy and perfect and real .

I don’t even know how he gets the condom, but it’s on and all I know is he’s at my entrance, the heat of him poised and ready, and I hold my breath as he presses inside.

My back arches. My fingers claw into his shoulders.

The stretch is exquisite. Full. Right.

He groans low in his throat, like being inside of me is everything.

And then he starts to move.

Slow at first. Measured. He rocks into me with long, deep strokes that make me forget my name. I meet every thrust, hips tilting to draw him in deeper, chasing the friction, the connection, the heat.

He braces himself on one arm and slips the other hand between us again, his thumb circling exactly where I need it. I gasp, arching beneath him, the pressure building impossibly fast.

My fingers tangle in his hair. My lips drag across his jaw, his neck, whatever I can reach.

It’s too much. Not enough. Everything at once.

The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave—fast and unstoppable.

I cry out his name as my whole body clenches around him, stars exploding behind my eyes.

Reid curses low and buries his face in my neck, thrusting hard once, twice more before he groans and shudders, hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge.

We stay connected like that for a long moment—his body heavy over mine, my legs still locked around his waist, both of us panting, stunned.

Eventually, he lowers himself gently to my side, shifting so I’m half on his chest, his arm wrapping around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe it is.

We lie there for a moment, tangled and breathless, the air heavy with everything we just did. “I’ll be right back,” he says, giving me a kiss to the forehead before he exits the bed.

“Let me get rid of the condom.”

He’s quick about it, sliding back in next to me.

I rest my cheek on Reid’s chest, the rise and fall of his breathing steady beneath my ear.

My fingers trace idle shapes over the smooth skin of his ribs, and I can still feel him everywhere—his hands, his mouth, the quiet way he looked at me like I was something sacred.

It should be complicated.

But it isn’t.

Not yet.

He brushes his hand slowly up and down my spine, not saying anything, just keeping me anchored. And for a moment, I think maybe we don’t have to talk. Maybe we can just let it be what it is.

But I can’t sit with silence forever. Not after something like that.

“Do you ever think about that night?” I ask quietly. “The summer after uni. When we…”

Reid doesn’t answer right away. His chest rises on a deep breath, and his hand pauses at the small of my back.

“Yeah,” he says. “More than I’d like to admit.”

I tilt my head to look up at him. “Why more than you should?”

His eyes find mine. There’s no defensiveness there. Just honesty.

“I was scared,” he admits. “Of messing it up. Of dragging you into something while I was still trying to prove myself in racing. I didn’t want to be that guy—half in, half out. You deserved more than that, Lara, and I wasn’t the guy for you.”

I study him, the shape of his face, the quiet strength in his voice.

“And now?” I ask, softer this time.

He shifts slightly, turning so we’re face-to-face on the pillow. “Now I’m not scared of you . I’m scared of how fast this is happening. Of what it might cost you.”

That lands deep.

Because I’m scared too.

Not of him. Never of him.

But of what the world will say. Of what our families will think. Of what happens when Lance finds out.

“I don’t want to be ashamed of this,” I whisper. “But I also don’t know how to explain it to anyone else. It’s too soon. Too… raw.”

His fingers thread through mine under the covers. “Then we don’t. We keep this between us. Just for now.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“I’m okay with whatever gives you a sense of safety.”

That single sentence breaks something open in me. Not with pain—but relief.

I nod slowly, biting my lip. “Thank you.”

He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead, and I close my eyes for a moment, sinking into the calm he gives me.

But then another thought crawls forward.

“I’m not using you,” I say. “I know it might look that way—like I ran from one man to another. But that’s not what this is.”

“I know it’s not,” Reid says instantly. “You came to me for help, not for this . What happened between us tonight wasn’t about Lance. It wasn’t about escaping. It was about us and what has always been between us.”

My throat tightens, and I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m still sorting myself out. I don’t know who I am outside of all this yet.”

He shifts beside me, then reaches over and links our fingers again. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. I’m not going anywhere. There’s no timeline.”

We fall into silence again, but this one is warmer. Easier.

Still, one last worry tugs at the edge of my thoughts.

“What about Lance?” I ask. “Eventually, he’s going to find out. And if he finds out too soon, it’ll just… I don’t know. Ignite something.”

Reid’s voice turns hard. “Let him ignite it.”

I shake my head. “No. Not yet. He still has too much proximity to both of us—to our families. I need things to settle before I can deal with that blowback.”

He lets out a slow breath. “Okay. We keep it quiet.”

“But I don’t want to pretend when we’re alone,” I add quickly. “I just need to… work this out slowly.”

Reid leans over, his lips brushing my temple. “Then we do it your way. As slow as you need.”

I let the warmth of his words sink into the hollow spaces still healing inside me. I refuse to let myself be afraid of wanting something, because I do want him.

More than ever.

Even if we have to hide it for now… I’m still choosing it.

I’m still choosing him .