If she walks away from me now, sometime in the future, she’ll be with someone else.
The thought of her being like this for someone else was unbearable.
Suddenly her pussy clutched his cock so hard, he nearly choked.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she murmured.
He pushed deeper. And when she tightened her hold, a grunt escaped him like someone had punched him in the gut.
“Of course not,” he groaned, “because according to you, change isn’t possible.”
“That’s right, and because I hate you.”
He pushed in so deep she cried. He thrust his mouth on hers, wanting to ravage it, wanting to ravage her.
Gripping his head, she pulled his hair, the shiver of pain dissolving into the most exquisite pleasure vibrating through him.
“I hate you,” she murmured. Her voice was as ragged as her breath as she wrapped her legs around him, and he thrust deeper and deeper and deeper still. Her hips bucking into his hungry cock.
I hate you.Those three words spiraled around that hold she had on him, pulling him at both ends. And his flesh began to shiver, his limbs and body shake. He felt her arms suddenly clutch him.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
Those three words hung on every cell he felt explode within him. And as he descended into a blissful peace he knew was only temporary, he came to the realization that it was her that had ravaged him.
Afterwards, walking back to his hotel, he tried to find some sliver of hope in the fact that she hadn’t rejected outright his plea that they talk once the season was over.
He’d assured her that Roxanne would honor her side of the deal even though there would be no more dates for the rest of the season. He’d make sure of it.
That much he was certain of. But the rest?
She was right. Neither one of them was ever going to forget what happened today. He was never going to forget that she’d thrown what happened on that mountain in his face. She’d never forget that he’d thrown her quitting F3 in hers. So where would they go from here? Was there anywhere to go? Was it even possible to move beyond this space in which they now stood?
That night when he dreamed, he saw only her gray eyes and then found himself stuck in a thick dense fog. He was lost. He didn’t know which direction to turn, didn’t even know which way was north. Even were he to cry out to her, she wouldn’t hear him. The air was too thick; any words he uttered would be too weak and too distant to reach her.
Chapter Forty-One
Clarke
Clarke paced back and forth, trying to muster the courage to enter the room. He’d raced in Vegas yesterday, hopped on a five-hour flight to New York, and headed straight to the hospital.
Ceci was right. He’d been so focused on making sure Tilney lost, he’d made a dumb move. And Anker had paid the price. His anger at her for hiring Tilney had clearly been simmering because he never gave a thought to what impact his actions would have on her.
Well, there was at least one person who would be happy to hear he hadn’t been doing well since Miami. And he was on the other side of that door. Clarke had put himself behind the eight ball. This upcoming last and final race in Suzuka was a must-win if he wanted the trophy. With Anker out, Perez, who had been third, had stepped up his performance, and with Clarke performing like he’d been, Perez had closed the gap between them.
The door to Anker’s room swung open as the doctor left, and Clarke grabbed hold of it. “Can I come in?”
Anker glared at him. “How the fuck did you get past the nurses? Only family members. Given I don’t have any, that means only Ceci.”
Clarke sighed. “So, can I come in?”
“And if I said no?”
“I’d come in anyways.”
“Come in,” he groaned. “I just pushed the button for the nurse. So you’ll have to leave if it’s the cute one with the fine ass and the big, bouncing tits. God, would I love those tits to smother my cock.”
“Anker!”
