Page 12

Everything is Bigger in Texas

“I always said I’d light the world on fire, now to burn it down…”

—Red

W e arrived at the Austin-Bergstrom airport without a hitch.

The rest of the ride went rather smoothly.

I’ll never deny the fact that Tayden is my Achilles heel.

One touch of him makes me fall to my knees, and fuck did he do exactly that.

I’ve never been one to relinquish my power to any man, but fuck does this man know me so well.

He knows exactly what I need and just how I need it.

I’d gladly choke on his cock every day of the week if I could.

I’ve had a lot of things in my life, and over time, power has taken its place as the top contender on that list.

I wasn’t born wielding that, though, so to have it completely stripped from me when I allow it, as I stand in all that is my flesh and bones is fucking exhilarating.

It’s the high I crave, and now that I’ve tasted him in that way, I can’t help but crave it more and more.

Thoughts of forever are closing in on me more than ever.

This is where Ivy and I differ.

I can almost guarantee she and Liam don’t have mind-altering sexual relations like Tayden and I.

No, she wants love, always searching for the mental and emotional fairytale, preferably one that connects her to her past, to self-sabotage.

I simply want to be owned, dominated, and reminded of the power my body wields, all while conquering the world with a singular human.

Him.

Outside of that, I have no life goals.

He’s the only box left unchecked, the only opponent worthy of my game.

Stepping off the plane, two Lamborghini Huracan STOs sit waiting for us. One electric green, the other black and fuck, they are beautiful. I look over to Antonio, not wanting to miss the look on his face.

“Well, Big A, what yah think?”

I chuckle, knowing all I need to by the grin across his face. He is excited as fuck.

“What do I think? Fuck , I think my dick is hard,”

he responds, his smile quickly turning to embarrassment at his own words.

“I, umm fuck I’m sorry Red.”

I chuckle so hard, finding his reserve cute like I haven’t seen his dick before. A voice embellishes my ear.

“También me pone la polla dura, Antonio.”

Makes my dick hard too . Tayden busts out from behind me, his hand sliding up my thigh, landing a hard slap on my ass, making me squirm at the end of his sentence.

They both continue walking around the cars as men usually do, talking all the ins and outs of all she is.

I follow along, lighting a cigarette pretending I have any idea what they’re talking about.

Real estate I know, cars? Shit, the only thing I know of them is how to fuck a man’s brains out in one.

There’s nothing more exciting than riding a stick shift while he watches your wet pussy slide up and down it, knowing damn well he wishes it was his cock.

Like I said, Ivy and I are not the same —I’m better.Okay, I’ve never done that, but I do love watching a man’s hands shift through the gears effortlessly, his veins moving as his finger caresses the leather firm yet softly, fucking major kink of mine.

“5.2 L V10”

“Correct, 630 horsepower right at the tip of your fingers.”

“I bet she shifts beautifully,”

Antonio says, his fingers brushing the leather and Alcantara.

“Isn’t this the last generation Lamborghini will ever make?”

He asks, quirking his head in Tayden’s direction.

“That is correct, bro. The absolute visceral feel of her on the road is insane. The way the rear wheel drive completely changes the dynamic of the car makes it unlike anything Lamborghini has ever done.”

“I can only imagine. Why two?”

Antonio eyes me as I hold up two sets of keys, one in each hand, dangling from the tips of my fingers like I’m about to tell them to start their engines. “Which do you choose, no takebacks, green or black?”

I ask, a taunting smile across my face.

“Wait, what?”

Antonio answers, dazed and confused.

“Black on black or green?”

I repeat, continuing, “Just know whatever you choose, she’s yours to keep, so choose wisely.”

His face says it all, and he’s a little boy whose box car dreams just became real life.

“I can’t Re—”

“You can and you will, Antonio. Red and I appreciate you, and you deserve it,”

Tayden bites.

“Fuck bro, I, fuck, thank you, uh, uh, I have to go black on black,”

he exclaims, his hands on his head, pacing back and forth in complete disbelief.

I make my way to him, placing the keys in his hand before a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Tossing the other set at Tayden, I excitedly sprint to our car.

“Alright, boys, start your engines. We have a race to get to,”

I snap, waving my hand in the air.

Racing to their cars, the engines roar beautifully, and in seconds, they are in a race of their own.

“You better not lose,”

I taunt him, Antonio’s taillights breaking swiftly in front of us as he rounds the exit.

“You just hold on, little flame,”

he growls as the car shifts into fourth. Hitting the highway, we begin bobbing and weaving through a peasant sea of cars.

The drive through Austin is beautiful, the skyline so breathtaking.

I’ve always been a sucker for this city.

There is nothing better than an entire community that embraces keeping it weird.

Seeing it in a flash as Tayden works his way up to Antonio is even more beautiful.

Rolling down my window, he follows suit. I unbuckle my seat belt, pulling my knees into the seat.

“What are you doing?”

he exclaims, reaching for me.

“You just hold that wheel steady, Mr. Bergess,”

I taunt, pushing his hand from me as I begin to climb out the window, my body steadied by the door at my waist.

Lifting my arms out into the air, my upper half completely bashed by the airstream as the car automatically shifts into seventh, throttle wide open, as we begin passing Antonio.

Rolling down his window, he shouts at me, “You’re fucking crazy, Red.”

“And you’re about to lose,”

I scream at the top of my lungs, throwing him two birds and a grin as we pass him completely, taking the lead.

“Fuck that was exhilarating,”

I breathily gasp, catching my breath as I secure myself back in the seat, brushing my wind-blown hair from my face.

“He’s not wrong, little flame. You’re about as crazy as they come.”

“I know, and you fucking burn for it, Mr. Bergess. At least I own it.”

He continues bobbing and weaving before letting off the gas, allowing this beauty to slow as we exit off SH-130, the track lights in range.

This car is so fucking sexy, too bad it’s an automatic.

My panties would have been completely drenched if it was a standard.

Fuck me, I could watch him shift all day.

One of my favorite things is when he sends me videos of him shifting gears while he’s driving; just his long fingers, the veins so powerful as they strain, the leather so beautifully touched.

Gear kink is such an underrated one.

That shits better than porn.

“Let me guess, Team Ferrari?”

I tease, knowing damn well his team hasn’t changed in his entire life.

“Every day, little flame. What can I say? I like the color red.”

He shrugs his shoulders, sliding his hand across my lap squeezing tightly.

“Let me guess your second love, Mr. Hamilton, Mercedes?”

he taunts me.

“What can I say? I love blue and the chill it brings,”

I bite, feeding into his flirtation.

“I’d love nothing more than to freeze your flame.”

He grins, throwing the car in park.

His cold knuckles running up and down the side of my face, pulling me into him.

His breath, warm as the Texas sun dancing across my lips.

I glide my tongue to get a taste but fall short as he hesitates, pulling back, leaving me completely unfulfilled.

“Not yet, little flame. I hate starting what I can’t finish. We’re here,”

Turning my chin, he places The Circuit of the Americas track in my view.

I can’t help but look around and take it all in.

A pit takes hold in my stomach as I think back to all the times we spoke about having this moment together but never had the ability in our schedules to quite grasp it.

Suddenly, being here, looking out, and knowing it is happening, makes me nervous and uncertain.

Attempting to calm this odd feeling I rarely experience, I follow his gaze out the window, those thoughts making this moment all the more surreal and special.

The tower stands tall in the sky, the lights beating down on it from all directions.

The smell of octane and burnt rubber fills the air.

The track is covered in red, white, and blue, consisting of twenty insane turns.

I glance between him and it, imagining all the ways I’d like him to abuse my body on each of them.

If only a why choose was real life, I’d have Tayden and Lewis at the same time.

Fuck would that be euphoric.

The outlandish thought forces a chuckle to escape my lips, my hand covering them in an attempt to quiet my laughter.

I peer my head out the window, my hands in the air like a kid riding their first rollercoaster, just taking it all in as Antonio pulls up next to us.

“How’s it feel to get that ass spanked, A?”

“Fucking amazing. I almost had you there for a minute, though.”

“Almost means shit, my friend,”

Tayden jokes back.

“Alright, boys, put your dicks back in your pants. You have all weekend to compare them.”

Tonight feels good. I feel so fucking free; at least I know I’m still me. For now, anyway.

“I’ve never had the opportunity to love her freely for the world to see, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fuck her in front of it.”

—Tayden

I’ve loved Formula One since I was a kid.

It’s the exact reason I got into exotic cars.

Something about two hands gripping the wheel, the throttle wide open, and nothing but her and I has always been sacred to me, like my own church every time I step in.

I have the ability to love a car better than I have loved any woman in my life.

I understand the ins and outs of them far more than the female brain.

Cars don’t change.

They are who they are.

Sure, they can be modified, but she still works the same regardless of how many changes or aftermarket parts you add to her.

The pedal is the accelerator, and the brake still performs the same task.

Without each part working properly and fine-tuned, she won’t purr as she should.

The voice of a car always tells you what’s going on.

The voice of a woman can lead you down a twisted and chaotic path.

Cars leave you a roadmap to the issue, a constant trail that inevitably will lead you to pinpoint the problem.

Women in my life have never been that easy.

You think you’ve found the root of the problem and stumble into nine more you weren’t even aware existed in the first place.

There’s no owner’s manual for women.

They are all their own makes and models with multitudes of aftermarket accessories by different manufacturers with zero fucking warranty.

That is my all-bearing issue with Ivy and Red.

Fuck I love them both.

I loved Ivy first, but I’ll never forget the day Red and I met.

She was strong, fearless, uncomplicated, and relentless.

At that moment, I knew I may never have a place in either of their lives but fuck, I craved Red so fearlessly.

The guilt it made me feel falling for her is something I still carry to this day.

As a man who has loved both for so many years, I couldn’t even begin to write a manual to either of them.

They are different, same make for certain, but their models sit at completely different ends of the spectrum.

I know I shouldn’t be here with Red this weekend, but fuck me, my ability to curb my desire is hard.

Ivy can’t always be the only rule maker and breaker.

This weekend, I plan to break them all.

I will have Red in all the ways Ivy would deny me.

I wish I could go back in time and change so much for Ivy, but I still believe, what I always have.

Red is not her enemy; no, her best friend is what scares her more than anything.

They are both everything the other is not, and somehow, that friendship works for them.

I know I’ve been the cause of many downfalls in their friendship over the years, but they’ve always found a way to work it out, allowing me to continue pursuing both.

The understanding between them all these years has taken its toll on my role in their life in both good and bad ways, but their complications could never alter my love for them.

I know taking Red away for the weekend, I guarantee, will hinder that bond and, if I had to guess, cause a lot of friction between the two.

Just as I am certain the weekend I took Ivy away is the reason Red is here with me right now.

Realistically, we have all been in this together longer than should have been allowed to be played out, but as long as we are all still moving pieces across the board, I refuse to feel guilty for my move, at least not this weekend.

I do worry at some point, a decision or a choice will be requested by one or the other, and at that time, I know for certain it would not be me needing to make that final call but the two of them.

Luckily for us all, we made the agreement long ago that anyone choosing each other outside our fictional world is not a question ever to be asked aloud among us.

So, for now, I feel confident in my actions per that rule, and I choose to live recklessly for the women I love indefinitely, even if that makes me the enemy.

“Cat got your tongue?”

she gushes.

“No love, just thinking,”

I breathily reply, my eyes visiting hers momentarily before staring back out the window, separating the loudness of the warmups from the stillness we sit in.

Her hand latches onto the back of my neck, massaging it, trying to relieve the tension she senses in my body language through my silence.

“You know, thinking too hard has never done anyone any good. Especially for us.”

“I know, love. I promise all good thoughts,”

I reply, hoping to give her the comfort she needs to feel reassured my mind is only on her.

I know she has felt some type of way this weekend as we haven’t physically connected since we arrived Friday on the plane, other than a few heavy make-out sessions.

For a woman like her, I know it makes her feel insignificant.

I wanted some time with her non-sexually.

To enjoy the experiences with her that time took from us.

To know what her belly laughs sound like, to breathe in her just existing in the moment.

Watching the genuine curl of her lips as her team takes first in the heat laps was priceless.

We spent the weekend making memories that we spent years talking into existence, never allowed to create them by our own hands.

Watching her true personality penetrate through the cast iron armor she wears endlessly has been the highlight of my weekend.

For once, I feel I’ve grown even closer to her than I’ve ever felt.

Her energy this weekend has been less business, zero guard, and all the parts of her she thinks she doesn’t deserve—genuine happiness.

I wish she knew how loveable she truly is.

“Aghhhhh, take that, Mercedes starts in spot one, and Ferrari, where are they? Go ahead, tell me,”

she busts from her chest, excitement taking over her.

“Fifth, love, but remember it doesn’t matter until that checkered flag waves high in the sky,”

I tease her.

Hearing her passion for the races this weekend has been eye-opening.

She has never been one to care about Formula One, but a few years back, she started texting me about it, and it was then I realized that although we barely spoke at the time, she learned it for me.

She fell in love with it because of her love for me.

I’ve never brought it up or even asked her to admit it because she’ll never confess.

I find it so fucking adorable how she’s always finding more ways for us to relate, and more than anything, we could love something together outside of ourselves; her team choice certainly was nothing more than to create banter between us, and fuck I love her even more for choosing another team.

Another calculated move aced by her.

She’s truly remarkable.

She was made for me.

“Alright, big guy, you a betting man?”

Playfully rolls off her tongue.

“Depends, what’s the wager?”

I bite, curious to hear what she has in mind. Knowing her, it’s going to cost me. A lot. Throwing her blonde hair off her shoulder, she comes alive, her mouth salivating at her own thoughts.

“Okay, so if Mercedes takes first, then I get a date in Boston with you. Something one hundred percent planned by you, but massages can’t be part of it, something fun and exciting.”

She takes a long pause, and I can see her wheels still turning. She’s got more.

“And?”

I ask, my hand grabbing through the hole in her jeans, squeezing her thigh, trying to pull her words from her lips.

“ And you have to purchase me a Black Vintage 959 Porsche, black interior with red stitching.”

A squeal releases from her like she has already won. Normally, I’d find that noise exiting a woman unattractive, but from her, it’s the most beautiful noise ever, and I can’t help but file it as a perfect memory, never to be lost.

“I already bought you one in red.”

“Exactly, this one would be black, it’s completely different. ”

“Okay, and if I win?”

I question, curious what my end holds.

She leans into me, her lips skimming across my ear as she whispers, “What do you want, Mr. Bergess?”

The bulge in my pants grows with her words as I think back to the jet and all her mouth did to me.

I’m starving for her.

I had planned on keeping her naked and wet in this suite all weekend.

After two days of holding my restraint, my self-control is running thin.

Separating my two heads, I try to think of what it is I truly want.

I’d love more than anything to say the truth.

You.

I want you now and forever.

I choose you.

I always have, and I always will.

You are my entire fucking world.

I want to blow our worlds up; I want to break the rule.

I want you every day of the week, every season of the year, and to watch every rainstorm holding you.

I want all of you, the good, bad, ugly, and indifferent.

I want you to be the first thing I wake up to every morning and the last I lay my eyes on before I sleep.

I want to forever share our successes and failures together.

I want to start building a life together.

The life we were always supposed to have that time, consequence, and a fucking pact robbed us of.

I want to laugh with your laugh and hold you when you cry.

I want to feast on your body every moment possible.

You… I fucking want you.

All of you, here, now, fuck—forever.I want you to ask me to choose.

I let the thought pass as quickly as it came.

It’s pointless to say, or maybe the fear that it may be pointless drives my lack of speaking my true feelings.

But it doesn’t mean I don’t daydream, just as they do.

I’m a man, yes, but I’m a fucking man in love in such a fucking way I can’t understand.

Pure fucking torture.

“Okay, so if Ferrari wins, you have to commission me a Singer DLS in oak green metallic with a cognac interior. Deviated green stitching as well as carbon and magnesium accents. Secondly, I want you to wear nothing but a red bow and matching heels upon delivery, little flame.”

The image alone chisels away at the restraint I’ve been trying to contain.

“Okay, deal, shake on it?”

She giggles, holding her hand out.

I pull her into me, our lips crashing as my tongue invades her soft, red-stained lips, my hands running through her hair, yanking down with just enough pressure, her lungs releasing the air trapped within her last breath. My lips trailing across hers gently, biting her lower lip, forcing her to suck in a gasp. Her eyes lock on me.

“My love, this isn’t business. It’s personal. The only thing your hand should ever shake is my fucking cock.”

I release her, taking a sip of my drink, a grin tainted across my face. I can feel her stare as I patiently await her witty response.

“Well, it looks like you just put your money where your mouth is. I hope your wallet can handle what your mouth has been afraid to claim all weekend.”

My eyes darken looking onto her. Her confidence is sexy. I’ll give her that. My turn. “I’m not afraid, my love. If it wanted to claim anything, I could have. We both know that. To deny that simple fact would be pure blasphemy.”

“Oh, real-”

“I’m not finished,”

I bite, shutting her down.

“Everything is about impeccable timing, and when I fuck you and taste that sweet little pussy of yours, it will be exactly as it should. No more, no less, and that fucking kills you, which makes my dick hard. That, little flame, is the power you handed over to me years ago, and I will do with it when and as I please. It drives you fucking insane, and insane is my favorite version of you.”

I lift my beer up cheersing her, not allowing her the chance to reply before I continue.“Race is starting. I hope you have a bow company in that Rolodex of numbers on your phone, little flame.”

“As a matter of fact, I do, Mr. Bergess. I’ll send you the contact card when you’re making arrangements for my new Porsche.”

Fuck, I love her. She’s fucking relentless. Here’s to hoping Leclerc pulls in this win for me, ‘cause damn, I need her in that car naked and wet for me. Fuck , making it through these next one-hundred and twenty minutes is going to be brutal.

“Lap 28 is officially underway. Mercedes is leading with a .003-second lead over Red Bull, with Ferrari trailing in third. Haas still holding at fourth with .34 seconds they need to make up to position themselves in third and the possibility of putting themselves on that podium for the first time in history here at their home circuit. There’s still a lot of race left, Bill, and it’s going to be interesting to see how this plays out.”

“You’re exactly right, Ryan. This will be a race to remember. Leclerc has a lot resting on his shoulders after his teammate, Sainz, was taken out of the race earlier on lap seventeen. If Ferrari wants a spot on the podium, Leclerc is their only hope. He’s holding steady, though, and it would be an amazing win for Ferrari if he can pull it off. Let’s hope the errors already made here today are repeated.”

“Coming out of turn eighteen, Magnussen is pressing Leclerc, pulling on the inside, looking for his window to slide past; if he pulls this off, that will place Haas in third, and if he can hold it—Leclerc closes the gap, and there’s been contact. Will Leclerc regain control? Oh my god, Magnussen has lost all control and is mid-air. This is not good, Ryan. There’s too much smoke, the red flag has been deployed, and the safety cars are maintaining control and setting the pace.”

“No, Bill, it’s not, and unfortunately for Haas, this severely lowers their chances of a podium placement today. That is minimal, considering. I think I speak for everyone here today and watching; we’re all just hoping Magnussen will walk away from this.”

The medics and firefighters begin making their way to him. I think we are all holding our breath, waiting to see movement from his car. The stadium has drawn quieter than I have ever seen it. I think we’re all praying for a miracle right now.

Red and I stand in complete disbelief. I’ve seen quite a few crashes, but this one is among the top three worst. Although I am not a Haas fan, I’m a race fan, and the safety of all drivers is important regardless of the team they represent. Our breaths are both shaky waiting to see something, anything. Fuck, that wreck was bad.

“Tayden, I don’t see anything,”

she gasps, her hand rubbing her neck as she always does in times of stress.

“Me neither. It doesn’t look good,”

I respond, wrapping her in my arms as we both look down onto the track. The commentary from our suite T.V. falls quiet, just as all in attendance today. For a moment, she seems fearful and vulnerable. For a moment, I feel I’m peering behind the stone she has built herself from.Not often does she allow anyone to see the empathy she feels for those in her life, much less a stranger. She doesn’t hide it as well as she thinks though. I have the front-row seat to it right now, and it’s breathtaking.

“We have movement. Magnussen has been removed from his vehicle, and he’s—Ryan, is he waving his helmet in the air? Oh my god, this is the craziest thing I have seen. We are getting reports that he was trapped and that, as far as they can tell, he’s going to be okay. The medics are loading him to be taken off for precaution; however, it looks like he will race another day, Bill.”

“That’s correct, Ryan. Let’s replay that and see exactly where it went wrong while they get the track cleared, and hopefully a green flag waving soon. We still have a lot of race left today.”

“Oh my god, what a fucking wreck. Jesus fuck, what an adrenaline rush,”

she bursts out, her hands shaking at her sides as she goes over to pour herself another drink.

Sneaking up behind her, I wrap my hand around her throat, forcing her back into my chest.

“Ready for some adrenaline of our own, little flame?”

Her ass curls into me, my words cutting through her like knives. My hand keeps her frozen in place as I drag the other down her, carving out all of her beautiful curves with the tips of my fingers. Making their way back up to her shoulders, gripping them firmly, I flip her around. I watch the startle of my actions snatch her breath, my eyes scanning hers, taking her in, as I watch those dark brown eyes begin to fuck me before we’ve even begun. Slowly, I start walking backward, creating space between us, unbuttoning my shirt one by one.

“Quítatelo todo para mí pequena llama.”

“Take it all off for me, little flame,”

I direct her.

Immediately, she starts ripping her clothes off, throwing them across the room. No dance, no tease, just her feral and secure in her skin. She doesn’t even realize how attractive her confidence makes her to me. I eat that shit up, and that’s exactly what I plan to do, and I always clean my fucking plate.

Undoing my pants, I watch her standing there in front of the bar, bare and exposed, her mask seeming less sturdier with each second passing. I wonder if she’s nervous. Do nerves even exist within her realm of her mind? Does she get scared or overthink? I wouldn’t say I’m a nervous man, but I would say I have nerves about our entire situation. I often wonder if she does, too, or only Ivy and I? Either way, I allow the thought to trail off as quickly as it came when her voice breaks the intensity.

“We standing here or fucking? I got a bet to win and joy to fully bask in once Hamilton crosses that finish line first.”

Her words ignite a smile across my face as my fingers clear the corners of my lips, fighting it.

Fuck, every part of her makes me smile.

She’s the type of woman who would have changed the world if she chose to.

The kind that men would have gladly followed into war.

What’s crazy when I think about it is it’s not even her majestic body or smoking hot looks—it’s her mind.

She is fucking brilliant, and she knows it.

Calculated and unafraid to go after what she wants no matter who it offends or the repercussions.

She’s dangerous in a completely sane way.

She’s the entire reason this country hasn’t had a female president.

She’s what old men in power everywhere are terrified of, and today, she’s all mine.

Cocking a brow, she twirls her hair in front of her face waiting patiently for my direction. Such a good little flame .

“On the bar now,” I bite.

She immediately turns to it, momentarily looking back as a grin graces her face before her long arms rip across, removing everything from it in one sweep.

Decanters crash to the floor, glass shattering at both ends, the smell of thousands of dollars now only a scent that fills the room.

If I wasn’t about to be face-deep in her, I’d probably feel some type of way.

I hate wasted money.

That’s Red, though.

She’s not any other girl.

She’s her, and something about that makes all her quirks, imperfections, and flaws fucking hot and inviting.

Lifting herself up, she drops her ass on the checkered bar top, causing recoil on every inch of her body. The most beautiful earthquake I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and I want to be its first victim taken deep into its swells.

Her legs crossed, both arms firmly planted behind her, a laugh escapes her before her words begin trickling out. “Tik—T”

“Spread them,”

I growl, cutting her off as I approach her.

She does exactly as I request. Such a good girl. It’s amazing how someone who is so used to giving directions handles taking them so well.

“Good little flame. Wider.”

“You hungry love?” she asks.

“Starved, Amor.”

My steps head in her direction my cock engorged.

Subconsciously, I reach for it, pulling, trying to relieve the ache it feels.

It’s fucking throbbing, and my desire to have her wrapped around it almost outweighs my desire to eat, but not quite.

Lowering myself, I place my head between her thighs, my breath teasing her as I watch her pulse in urgency for me.

For my mouth.

I flick my tongue abruptly between her lips, a jolt consumes her body as the pressure hits her clit all at once.

Her hands grasp my hair, needing something to hold onto, and in an instant, my hunger takes over.

I want to consume her entire fucking soul.

Her legs draped down my back, I grab her from behind, lifting her off the bar and onto my face.

Her moans begin filling the alcohol-scented room as I twirl and taunt her with my tongue.

I slam her back into the large window, looking out onto the track, her ass against it for all to see, my cock on full display to the world.

My fingers dig into her thighs as she rocks her hips back and forth, riding my face.

The friction of her back against the glass screeching beneath her moans.

“Fuck,”

escapes her as my tongue enters her pussy again, her hips now rolling faster, chasing her climax.

I reach one hand up, threading her nipple through my fingers, pulling, and taunting her even further, the acceleration in her breaths reminding me just how well I know her.

She loves her fucking nipples touched.

Come for me, little flame.

“ Take your time, little flame, ”

I direct her, not wanting her to let it soar before she’s good and ready.

I know she needs this more than me, to be catered to, serviced without servicing in return, just a sexual encounter all about her; no thought, no plan, just pure enjoyment with zero control for her to hold or wield.

A sexual release all about her.

Watching her climb it is a type of euphoria I can’t explain.

Her breath quickens as I pin her harder against the glass, one hand grasping her throat as the other pins her at the sternum.

My tongue raging war between her thighs when suddenly her climax reaches a high, her hands digging tighter into my hair as she rides it out, allowing me to devour all of her.

“We’re coming in on lap forty-nine with only seven left, and Ryan, this race has certainly been one for the books.”

“It sure has, Bill.

Earlier, I said Haas had zero hope of a podium today, but talk about an underdog story.

Nico Hülkenberg started this race without a pole position, taking lap one in 19th place, and now he’s at war with Mercedes, who has dropped into second with .0169 seconds to make up to reclaim the first place position they held this entire race now held by Leclerc from Team Ferrari.”

“What does eating crow taste like Ryan?”

“Honestly, Bill, fantastic.

It’s an amazing story for the American-owned team, who has fought their way season after season, hoping to hold a podium, and today, they just might for the first time ever here at their home circuit.

And that’s the American dream, Bill, if I ever saw one, and the true comeback story of today’s race.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Ryan. Only a few laps to go here at the F1 Circuit of Americas race this beautiful Sunday. We all know, one lap can change everything; we’ve seen it time and time again, so there’s a lot of race still left on that track”.

“It’s anyone’s game, Bill.”

Her legs fall down the sides of my shoulders as I hold onto her, allowing her to slowly slide down me.

I waste no time as her pussy brushes against the head of my cock, sending my desires into a rage.

Grasping her by the back of her knee, lifting it, my urge coming to fruition as I penetrate deep inside of her without warning, my tongue, and her orgasm the only preparation she had.

Her whimpers sing as I meet her gem with my cock, giving me full satisfaction, that nothing could ever prepare her for me.

Isn’t that the story of our lives? Brushing her lips against mine, her eyes bare her soul, allowing me to see beneath her surface as I thrust into her deeper and deeper, her pussy kissing my cock every inch of the way.

My hand squeezing her neck tighter, our breaths escaping match for match, nothing but moans as our breaths trail off one another’s, our eyes locked in, and the world around us vanishes completely.

The vibration of the glass is our only reminder of reality.

Our cores, entangled in a way they’ve dreamed of, and for a moment, as I stare at her balls deep, I am afraid she could hurt me, ruin me even.

It’s possible that I never knew how much Red could obliterate me until this very moment, right here and now, with my cock buried deep inside her.

I thought I knew love; fuck was I wrong.

I’m not in control when it comes to her.

No, I am powerless.

I was always just better at pretending than she was.

“I love you”

slips off my lips.

“I love you too,”

her words a gasp.

Looking out the window, the crowd rages as the racers fight to victory in the final lap. “ Mercedes and Ferrari fighting turn for turn for first place with Haas and Red Bull trailing behind.”

I realize this is a moment we will never get back, making me want to make the most of the last of it we have together.

Flipping her around, her tits now firm against the glass, she curls her ass up to me, inviting me back in.

“I want you to watch with me, little flame, watch me win as I fuck you before the world.”

“It isn’t over until you make me come,”

she fires back at me in a challenge.

“Cherry up, little flame,”

I grunt, thrusting deep into her from behind, my hand wrapping around her, massaging her clit as I thrust in her viciously, chasing the high of this moment.

“Fuck me, T, like the world is watching.”

Her legs begin to shake, buckling beneath her as she squirms, fighting the height of her climax. My cock and hands keep her locked in against her will. Her perfect little pussy takes me to my own climax as I feel the electricity begin to fill my body, my movements running off straight adrenaline, her moans climbing higher as I pump into her like the world is watching.

“Fuc—ahhhhhhh, don’t stop, T.”

“Never, Amor, the world is watching,” I grunt.

“Leclerc is leading in first coming into turn nineteen, with Hamilton 0.02 seconds behind. It’s anyone’s race for first as they cut into turn twenty. The checkered flag has been deployed; only seconds separate us from knowing the standings of the 2023 Circuit of Americas and what three teams will share in the infamous champagne podium victory.

Her slick walls contract around me, bringing me to the end of my own race as I pull out quickly, my own champagne podium celebration spraying all over her back, down to her ass. I wipe the tip clean before my hand connects with her ass, drawing a yelp from her.

“My dick says you came, and the crowd says you lost,”

I grunt, my face full of celebratory vibes.

Confused, she questions me. “Huh?”

Holding my hand to my ear, I encourage her to listen, as the other points down to the track just in front of us.

“The 2023 champion here at The Circuit of Americas is none other than Charles Leclerc, taking the W home for Team Ferrari and securing the team’s spot at the top of the podium. Trailing behind him in second is Lewis Hamilton from Mercedes. Joining them in third from Team Haas, making history for the first time ever and the underdog story of the season. The highlight of this race here today is Nico Hülkenberg, landing the third spot on the podium for the first time here at their home circuit and ever..”

Defeat looks cute on her; she wears it well.

“You fucked me in front of the world. I am far from lost.”

My eyes darken in confusion. Her tone feels heavy in a moment set up directly for her playful sense of humor, and it didn’t take long for her to take notice before she springs to me with a kissy laugh.

“Can’t really call it losing when it means I get you naked again.”

“You can have me naked anytime you want, little flame.”

“What about when I think I don’t. Will you be there to remind me that I do?”

Once again, her words strike me oddly. Something is different about her. I’d expect these types of questions from Ivy, not her. Her lack of desire to understand us is why I love her so much more. She just accepts us for who and what we are. Something is off. Is she cracking right before my eyes? I have no idea what to say, so I retreat to what I know.

“Forever, Mi Amor.”

“Forever, my love—seems a little deep, don’t you think, Tayden?”

she fires back.

And there she is.

“Not quite as deep as I was inside you two minutes ago,”

I joke, her hand slapping against my chest in her defeat.

Her lips find mine, as my tongue finds hers. A kiss so passionate it should be illegal, just like our love. Illegal.

Antonio joins us as we make our way down to the track to mingle.

After all, I’m always working, and this trip is no different.

I watch her as we make our way through the crowd, her blonde hair dancing in the wind.

A smile blooms across her face as she cheers out loud with everyone around us.

Our bet, a missing thought, pushed so far into the back of her mind.

She’s truly happy in this singular moment, pure like I’ve never seen, completely free of all micromanagement, and in an instant, I love her just a little more.

She is beautiful when she allows herself to fit in.

I can’t help but wonder where I’ll land on her podium at the end of our story. Second doesn’t seem so comfortable anymore.

To the world, she’s just a friend, and to me, she’s the entire fucking world.