Page 103 of Over the Limit

“I’m just growing impatient.”

“I know,” Chandler says. I know he knows but it doesn’t make it any easier. “But we’ve been here before. I’m trying to do my job so that we’re not here again for a few more years.”

“I know you are.”

“Just hold on for a few more races. It’ll be worth it all in the end.”

“Okay. Yeah. I know.” I lean my arse against my counter and hate that at Blair’s place there are pieces of me everywhere but, here at mine, there isn’t a trace of her.

I want her here. I want her in my space. I want a normal life where I’m not hiding her.

We end the call and before I can even dial her again, she calls.

“Hi. What’s up? Sorry. I was on the phone with Chandler.”

“Any news?” she asks, well aware of the ongoing contract negotiations.

“Nothing to report, no.”

“I have good news.”

“Oh?”

“Monica requested that I be at the Dutch Grand Prix and that we meet to go over the gala.”

“I’m not even going to ask why she’s able to pull rank like that but I’m glad she can. That means I get to see you. Every day for the next few days.”

“You get to see me from afar.” She laughs. “There will be no—”

“Sneaking off into a quiet corner for a quickie?”

“No.”

“Sneaking you into my hotel room in a laundry bin?”

“Nope.” She laughs. “How about dirty talking as I sit across the lobby from you, so no one knows?”

“I mean, beggars can’t be choosers, but if that’s all I get then I’ll need to think of a way to break some more rules so I can get more.”

“There will be no rule-breaking, Lachlan Evans.”

“No? I thought that was what you liked.” I groan like a petulant child. “Are you telling me I can look but I can’t touch?”

“I’m telling you that we’re in the same hotel this time as your team and so, Paolo will undoubtedly keep an eagle eye on me, waiting for me to fuck up.”

“The man probably had an aneurism when Monica called and demanded you be there.”

“I’m sure he did. But that’s why we need to keep our distance so that I can prove him wrong.”

“This is going to hurt. I’m not going to lie,” I tease.

“Well,” she says, her voice lowering to that seductive rasp that suddenly has my balls grow heavy with ache. “I may have just picked up a very lacy, very sexy something or other to wear to help you celebrate after that fantastic race that I know you’re going to have.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“How lacy and how sexy?”