Page 33

CHAPTER 33

Senna

The battle on screen between Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost continues. Over the last three days, Connor and I have watched countless races featuring greats like Michael Schumacher, Graham Hill, and Lewis Hamilton.

Connor grips my hand. “I used to watch these races with my mum on Sunday afternoons while she rushed in and out preparing dinner.”

I want to run my knuckles against his freshly shaved jaw. “And that was where you discovered your love of driving?”

His eyes twinkle as he catches my gaze. “That’s where I discovered my love of adrenaline.”

My stomach thuds. He has no idea how sexy he is when he says things like this. My stare grazes his forearms, which flex as the rivals force each other to drive increasingly dangerously. I catch the bottom of his Silverstone track tattoo and barely resist tracing it with my fingers. Over the last three days, we’ve been working on Operation Get Connor Driving. But all it’s done is make me want him more.

“I remember when you were thirteen. You were fearless on the track.” We’re sitting closer on the sofa than we should be if I don’t want weird drunk-on-Connor feelings. His thigh is flush against mine. Every movement means his body presses against me. It’s doing a number on my nipples, which push against my lace bra. He has no idea what he does to me.

It’s been like this for three days, as we barely leave each other’s side during the day while playing computer games and entertaining Fluffers.

My legs open wider as if my hormones control my body. “I’m guessing your crashes stopped the adrenaline,” I stammer.

“I can find adrenaline in other things.” He side-eyes me.

Images of being under Connor as he owns my body flash. If our kiss, which still sneaks into my dreams, is anything to go by, I’m not surprised. My body heats, and I rake my lips with my teeth. Time together has worsened my feelings for him. It’s not just the desperation to kiss him again. It’s everything. My teenage heart is alive for the first time in years, and she wants to cuddle while listening to Taylor Swift on repeat. Meanwhile, my adult side wants to jump his bones.

He flips his cap so it’s facing backwards. His knuckles are tight, and I reprimand myself for being horny when he’s suffering.

He clears his throat. “But it’s not just that I’m scared of driving. It’s that I don’t love it anymore.”

I gasp and cover my mouth. “You don’t love driving? But I’ve let you drive my car twice.”

He laughs and shoves me. His touch makes my skin burn, and I swear he stares at my legs as I tuck them under me. It’s nice to be back in my shorts and T-shirts. I glance out of his bay windows. All these touches make me want to dive into the lake and cool myself off.

“And we’ve played Need for Speed and Mario Kart every day.” Nothing stops the internal Connor burn. Gaming against him nearly killed me the other day—all that swearing and banter.

“Gaming doesn’t count. And it was fun driving your car even when you screamed as I got close to the hedge to let those tourists pass.” He gives me a nudge that has me nearly toppling off the sofa. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me back. “It’s good to know how you sound when you scream.”

I turn to face him. Our lips are so close I could kiss him. Maybe I’m not the only one dealing with forbidden thoughts. Fuck, I’m so confused.

I take a breath. “Anyway, we’re meant to work on Operation Get Connor Driving. But we should call it Operation Make Connor Love Driving Again.”

He shrugs, but his gaze lingers on my lips. I shove him away. I can’t deal with all these emotions. “So you don’t like driving because of the crashes and…?”

“And the politics and the enabled shitty behaviour of people like Antoine who can be dangerous twats because they have power and money,” he practically snarls.

“I still need to replace him. I’m not allowed to do business right now because of shutdown, but I keep thinking about it.” When I’m not thinking about you.

“Tawny would be good, and she’s got what she needs to move up in terms of license and skill. She has ideas for how to maximise the cars, too.”

“Jacs’s sister?” I roll my shoulders.

I like her, and she’s an exceptional driver who’s precisely what the team needs. But she and Connor flirted on our night out, although it was me he kissed. So what if she and Connor flirt if it’d be good for the team?

“She would be brilliant.” I’m a prick for being jealous. He’s not mine. I retuck my legs as I remember his hand against my thigh under the hem of my dress when we kissed. He smells of beer and spice like he did that night.

“She’d benefit from a female boss who doesn’t sideline her success.” Guilt bites my ankles. It’s hard to be a woman in this business. I could help shield her from the crap. I need to raise women as I’ve always done, not be jealous of them. “Her boss hasn’t given her the respect she deserves, so I reckon she’d move even though she’d go from top dog in F2 to a newbie in F1 in the middle of the season.”

“How do you know all of this?” The question is out of my mouth before I stop it. “Do you chat?”

“Are you jealous, Sen?” His lip tilts.

The bastard knows exactly what’s going on in my head. It’s like cocky eighteen-year-old Connor has entered the room. Only it’s not my teenage heart fluttering. It’s all adult, and that stare has put the heat right between my legs.

“No chance.”

A wave of hair falls out of my ponytail, and he tucks it behind my ear. I make a fist to stop me from grabbing the T-shirt clinging to his chest.

“For the record, Coults.” His voice lowers. My belly performs Olympic-level gymnastics with flips and rolls. “She and Jacs called me yesterday. But it’s just friendship. She’s not my type. I like the bosses, not the drivers.”

Fuck.

“Like Graham Hill. He was a boss and a driver,” I stutter, pointing at the screen.

I’m too scared to ask what he feels for me.

“Like Graham Hill,” he agrees and settles into the sofa with a sigh.

Thoughts itch my brain as we stare at the screen. “So if you no longer love driving, why stay with the team?”

He pulls my legs onto his lap, and I don’t resist him. His heat penetrates my skin.

“Partly for Niki. But mostly for you. I’m not leaving you in the lurch like others have. You need me, don’t you?”

As I stare into those big blue eyes, I’m sure he knows all the ways I need him. “Yes. I need you.”

“Then, even though I’ll run through everything I hate about driving as I wait for races to start, I’ll drive and I’ll do it for you.”

“For me?” It comes out like a squeak rather than a question full of self-assurance.

“For you,” he confirms. “It’s all for you.”

My mouth goes dry. His thumbs tap on my thighs. I can’t resist him for much longer, and my reasons for not letting him close are fading into nothing.