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“Hey.”
He gazed down at her. Her blue eyes beckoned him, and he felt like an albatross soaring into the dome of the sky.
“Don’t listen to them. You’re an amazing driver. Today was … strange. I’m here for you. We will get through this.”
Franco felt his throat swell with gratitude, then cleared it, standing tall and proud. He wanted to be the man that she needed, the man she wanted more than anything. Her belief in him pushed him forward, a beaming smile plastered on his face as he shook hands with his various sponsors.
The two main people who represented the target companies that supported racing in general, who intentionally hooked themselves up with people on the rise, were men in their silver ‘Miami Vice’ style jackets and dress pants. One was balding and a bit soused, while the other was significantly shorter than both Franco and Violet. Andrew Casey represented a renowned car company, and Max Wallace was the soft drink guy.
“One hell of a race today.” Max, who was the short, soft drink guy, clapped his hand into Franco’s.
His voice was always charged and gritty, using excessive force whenever he interacted with Franco. It was a sure sign of an insecure man. Franco paid it no mind. He intimidated many mere humans, especially the men, whose egos were as fragile as a freshly hatched egg.
“Truly explosive,” Andrew said, grinning with a mouthful of teeth. “Wouldn’t you say so, Franco?”
Franco felt a wash of shame move through him, and Violet must have noticed it too. She stepped in front of him slightly, a waft of her fragrance enchanting every cell in his body.
“Hi, my name is Violet Carney. Who might you two be?”
Violet was a captivating woman in both her aesthetically-pleasing beauty and conviction. The two men looked at her stupidly, mouths hanging open like ventriloquist dummies.
Franco was elated. He took Violet by the waist and pulled her against his side as they introduced themselves, taking her hand as she gripped theirs firmly, never losing eye contact. His lion roared with the need to claim her.
“Charmed,” Max said, swallowing.
“Delighted,” Andrew remarked.
“So tell me,” Violet said, settling against Franco with her hand crawling up his back. “How does this whole sponsorship thing work? I’m new to racing. I would love to know all of the ins and outs.”
Any interest in his disastrous occurrence during the qualifying rounds disappeared as the two men, who had likely never had a woman like Violet’s complete attention, fell into her mesmerizing essence. She continued the charade for most of the night, swiftly changing the subject of Franco’s crash to her own keen interest in learning about everything the racing world had to offer.
What made it so powerful was that he knew her interest was genuine. He held onto her, stroking his fingers along her hips and waist, running his eyes along the sweet dive of her throat and her plunging neckline. They had been seated next to each other at a table with a few racers who had gotten up to get themselves another drink.
At the almost-vacant table, he dipped his mouth down to her shoulder when she leaned her head toward him. He placed his lips softly upon her succulent skin, and she lamented in a low moan.
“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he whispered.
He could see the trail of freckles along her back, a gorgeous pathway that he wanted to follow until he lost himself completely. He ached for her, having forgotten about the reason for his presence at the event entirely.
“I want to make you feel good,” he continued, placing bold kisses closer to her neckline and along her collarbone. “You make me feel like I can do anything.”
They were still in public, which only added to the thrill. He loved how her legs squeezed together under the table, her body squirming to stay appropriate and still. Just before the racers returned with their drinks, he lifted his head, their mouths a mere inch away from one anothers.
Her eyes were laden with a hunger he had never encountered. It wasn’t just lust. It was something more layered and all-encompassing. It reflected in him. He was falling for her, hard and fast.
“You can have me anytime you want, Franco. I mean it. Anywhere, anytime.”
Franco’s beast whimpered inside him as their bodies and hearts burned like wildfire.
He wouldn’t be staying much longer.
FIFTEEN
VIOLET
Violet was positively riveted, taking the bull by the horns and directing the subject of every conversation she could, from Franco’s unfortunate incident to everything and anything else. She complimented the racers’ wives’ outfits, spoke about the weather in town compared to where she was from, and asked them open-ended questions about themselves and the sponsors they were associated with.
Violet found that most people couldn’t wait to talk about themselves, especially when someone showed signs of sincere listening. She also found herself interested in what they were saying, as the world of racing was a new and exciting world to her. It was a far cry from the seniors’ home she had worked in before meeting the illustrious Gerri.
