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VIOLET
Violet woke to the smell of bacon and coffee. She rolled over and patted the spot next to her but found it empty. She opened her eyes and found the imprint still there, and it was warm. But Franco wasn’t there.
It didn’t surprise her. It had now been almost a year since they were married, and she was used to his routine in the morning.
She sat up, wanting to roll over and fall back asleep. But they had a busy day and were up late last night. She blushed just thinking about it.
They had meant to go to bed early, but instead, they were up late making love. She could still feel him in her, making her experience things she never thought possible.
She had ridden him, spanning her hands across his chest. She had felt his cock thrusting up into her, filling her completely, and she remembered orgasming hard.
They had done several different positions in different places in the hotel room.
Violet shook her head and pulled herself out of bed. She walked her naked ass to the bathroom, turning the shower on. She needed to get the smell of last night off her. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing that she had changed a lot in a year. She seemed happier than she thought possible and loved the new life they had built.
Franco stepped behind her, his reflection in the mirror, and he smiled. He wore a loose pair of sweatpants and no shirt. Her insides stirred, seeing him half naked.
“What are you doing?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her. His lips pressed against her neck, and she almost moaned at the contact.
Violet leaned into him and exhaled. She loved when he held her. It made her feel like it was the safest place on earth.
He kissed the top of her head, and she looked at them in the mirror, cuddling together. “I was just about to take a shower so I could join you for breakfast.”
He grunted into her hair, inhaling. “Mind if I join you?”
She loved the idea and grinned at him. “Are you sure about that? I didn’t think it was part of your daily ritual.” That had changed as well. Franco still focused a lot before a race, but he also included her in it. And most of the time, it was them fucking in odd spaces.
His lips pressed against her collarbone, and his hand was already reaching around her.
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting, working on breakfast. She’d put on a pair of jeans and a blue blouse. She wore a jean jacket with it and had a pair of black boots sitting by the door.
Violet took a bite of her toast and watched him look through the newspaper. He looked relaxed and confident, as always. He had been practicing a lot for the next race.
“Do you feel ready?” she asked, already knowing the answer she was going to get. That hadn’t changed about Franco either. He remained confident.
He nodded as he folded the paper, putting it aside. “I do. I’m relaxed, thanks to you.”
She blushed, feeling her face go hot.
She finished her coffee and went to pack a lunch for them to eat later. They always arrived at the event early to scope things out, and today was no different.
Within half an hour, they’d left the hotel, and Franco drove with one hand on the wheel and his other holding hers. She relaxed into the seat, taking in their surroundings.
They arrived at the track and found no one but the drivers there, which was normal. She liked it when they arrived early.
While she liked the press and had gotten used to everyone chatting at once, she preferred the quiet. Franco did too. All the noise before the race got him nervous.
She had also gotten used to her role as the team manager. It required her to talk to the press, and she did all the scheduling of events and races. She was not only seen as the driver’s wife.
When she first took on the role, she’d gotten a lot of backlash. People said she only got the job because she was married to Franco. People thought she was underqualified.
But she proved she was worthy of the position, and she did amazing work. Franco attended ten more races a year, he had doubled the number of press conferences, and more news outlets had reports about him.
Franco also spent a lot less time on the road and more time where he wanted to be. He’d been impressed when she started managing everything.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?” he asked, turning the car off.
She pulled out her daily planner and flipped it open. “Race starts at noon. At ten, you have your practice time until eleven. And at eleven fifteen, you start your lineup and let the team look over the car. You race at noon and should be done by twelve-thirty. We are going to eat lunch that I packed at about one-thirty, and you have a press conference at three which shouldn’t be longer than two hours.”
