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It made his cock hard, and he had to force it away with thoughts of possibly crashing and setting himself on fire. Fear could usually set him straight, but for the first time in his career, it didn’t. He merely felt his manhood under the thick layer of the fire suit, thankful that he would at least have it concealed when he left the car.
Her presence there in the garage, then in the locker room, and outside the press conference vibrated through him. He tried to act nonchalant, wanting her to feel noticed and appreciated yet incredibly aware of the busy life he led. Her scent was a blend of exotic fruit and cherry blossoms; every time he got caught up in it, he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and find a place where he could devour her.
His lion cried sorely inside him. He suffocated it, trying desperately to remind it that he had a fucking race to win. There were sponsors, fans, and his whole damn reputation on the line. He couldn’t let it all fall by the wayside for a woman he had only met the day before.
Yet, being apart from her made him mournful. They had walked back to the hotel after the press conference, flagged down by a few fans, and were back in the lobby. Violet had her jacket open to show off her adorable jean-colored jumpsuit, one which hugged every angle of her frame with luscious precision.
It was just past noon, and he figured she was likely ravenous. Before they retreated to their rooms, a question fell out of his mouth.
“Violet, would you like to attend a sponsor function with me tonight?”
They had chatted about the press conference and the various sponsors he had spoken to right after. She had listened intently, her black ponytail bobbing along like a velvet horsetail.
She looked up, clearly pleased, her lovely ocean blues beaming. “I would love to. What kind of party is it going to be? I’d like to know what kind of outfit I need to get myself into.”
Her reply was spritely and a bit flirty, which only excited Franco more.
“Well, it’s not as formal as last night’s. It’s expected to get far rowdier if you know what I mean.”
Franco hadn’t even known what he’d meant, but Violet seemed to enjoy the tease. She slid her phone back into her purse, then looked up at him with hooded eyes. Her mouth parted, sparkling cherries damp with encouragement.
“Oh yes, I do see. I will be sure to dress for the occasion, then.”
She winked at him, then pressed the button of the elevator. It lit up, as did his crotch.
Franco chuckled, feeling nervous. What was wrong with him? No one and nothing ever made him feel that way. For God’s sake, he drove cars over 100 miles an hour for a living.
They moved into the elevator together, the two of them smiling stupidly as their arms brushed. Her scent was intoxicating as the elevator doors shut, the sensation of both their hearts beating in sync as loud as a drum solo in Franco’s ears. Violet had her eyes unfixed on the elevator doors, but in the mirror’s reflection, he could see her incredible bosom rising and falling quickly.
He liked that he was responsible for that.
The doors parted, and Violet left. She smiled at him, her lower lip tucked gently beneath her teeth.
“I’ll see you around five, then?”
Franco nodded, feeling speechless, his hands draped over his nether regions.
“I’ll meet you downstairs.”
She nodded, then began walking down the hallway. Franco nearly snapped the bones in his neck to keep from craning his head around the corner to watch her voluptuous ass sway back and forth like a pendulum.
The doors dinged closed, and he let his breath out like a child who had held their breath.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
Franco’s room was two floors above Violet’s, yet he felt like she could have been simply a bedroom away. In distinct and vivid detail, he thought about what it would be like to knock on her door, barge in, and nestle his head aggressively between her thighs.
It was the only afternoon delight he was craving, which was clear when he entered his suite and looked down between his legs.
His pants were largely tented with one of the most powerful erections he’d ever experienced in his life. It had been a while since he had a woman in his bed, nor had he pleasured himself recently. He found it distracting, so he whipped off his clothing and nearly ran to the shower, blasting cold water over his scorching body.
The water hit him like a thousand sharp knives. He groaned, pressing his palms against the shower wall. He was like a celibate monk, punishing himself for having such sinful thoughts. But it was necessary; he needed to get back into the controlled and keen mindset of the driver he knew he could be.
It was who he had always been and needed to continue to be.
The ice-cold shower had helped him somewhat, realizing that it had been the third time that day that he had found himself under the blast of frigid water. He’d needed it after the workout, after his race, and again, after merely walking through the damn lobby with Violet by his side.
He felt unsteady mentally as he took out his three-piece suit, an inky black with a cardinal red tie and handkerchief. He decided he would iron them to keep his mind from thinking about the outfits Violet was considering below him.
