“Hey.” Stefan comes rolling up beside me, having to shout to be heard over the techno beats the DJ is spinning.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I shout back, grateful for the distraction. Beats watching Grady being pawed like a piece of meat. “I thought you and Lina were heading back to Stuttgart right after the race.”
“So did I. But she had other ideas.” He gestures toward the bar, where his wife is waiting to be served. Something nonalcoholic, presumably. “Said she couldn’t leave without seeing you.”
“As long as she isn’t here to string me up by the short and curlies.” I try to make it sound like a joke, but like any good joke, there’s a kernel of truth underneath it. More than a kernel, if I’m honest. He can insist that he and Lina don’t blame me for the accident, but it’s going to take more than that for me to forgive myself.
Stefan gives me an indulgent smile. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. She wants to thank you for agreeing to be the baby’s godfather.”
As if on cue, Lina appears next to her husband with two glasses, one filled with amber liquid and the other with what looks like club soda. She hands the amber one to him and takes a sip from the other before turning to me. The warmth shining in her eyes reassures me that my family jewels are safe. For the moment. If there’s one thing Lina is, it’s unpredictable. And more than a little intimidating when she gets worked up about something. As scary as that can be, I’m glad Stefan has her in his corner.
“Congratulations.” She gives me a one-armed hug. “You must be happy with today’s result.”
Stefan nods in agreement. “Yes. Your boy did good out there.”
I risk a glance at Grady, who’s managed to extricate himself from the fangirls and is laughing at something Yanni said. Probably one of the dirty jokes or bad puns he’s famous for on the circuit. Grady’s head is thrown back, exposing the strong, tanned column of his throat, a body part I’ve never found sexy before but am now suddenly fascinated with.
When he lowers his head, our eyes meet, and I watch him as he makes his excuses to Yanni and crosses the room toward me. He’s doing that jungle cat thing again, all sinewy muscles and easy grace, and I can’t help but picture how that will translate to sex.
And just like that, I’ve gone from half hard to full alert.
“He did,” I say simply, not even bothering to deny this time that he’s my boy. My man. What’s the point? I might be struck by lightning for lying.
“You did good, too,” Stefan adds, raising his glass as if he’s toasting me. “Having him box for soft tires in the final laps to pick up the pace was brilliant strategy.”
“Thanks.”
Lina rests her free hand on her slightly rounded baby bump. “We’re both thrilled that you agreed to be Schatzi’s godfather.”
“I’m thrilled that you asked. Although I don’t know how good of a role model I’ll be for him—or her.”
“What do you mean?” Grady asks, joining the conversation. “You’re a great role model. You’re always encouraging me to be on my best behavior, aren’t you?”
His words are innocent enough, but the smoky, heavy-lidded look he gives me is downright decadent. I respond with a warning glare and deflect to something infinitely safer—introductions. “Grady Lewis, this is Stefan Meyer and his wife, Lina.”
“Big fan.” Grady sticks his hand out to Stefan, who shakes it.
“Likewise. How does it feel to have your first points finish?”
Grady beams. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”
We make small talk for a few more minutes, then Grady takes me by the elbow. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal Ben away. Jacques wants to see us before he leaves for Silverstone.”
Lina waves a hand. “Of course. It was nice meeting you, Grady. And you—”
She envelops me in a bear hug and no, my eyes are not getting moist. “It was nice seeing you again.”
“Good luck in Austin,” Stefan says when his wife finally releases me. “And don’t be such a goddamn stranger. Maybe return a phone call or answer a text once in a while.”
Grady guides me through the boisterous crowd, which seems to have tripled in size since I first got here. But the noise and the heat and the smell from all those bodies packed together don’t bother me. I’m riding an emotional high because Grady’s with me and not his fawning groupies, a possessive hand on my elbow as he guides me out of the club.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he drags me down the block. “I thought we were meeting Jacques.”
“I just said that to get us out of there so I could do this.”
He pushes me into an alley and backs me up against the brick wall. I don’t have to ask what he means by “this.” I know what he wants. What we both want. And if there was any tiny shred of uncertainty about his intentions, he erases it in seconds by pinning me in place with his well-honed body and his intense, knowing stare before clamping his mouth over mine.
This kiss isn’t an exploration, it’s a claiming. It’s his hands braced against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in. His lips bruising mine. His knee nudging my legs apart so he can grind our throbbing cocks together.
