Page 56 of Tipping Point

I wrap an arm around his head, pull him close, my mouth right on his ear where I give him a slow, ragged breath. I rub up against him with my whole body. I can feel the tremors of lust run through him.

“No, thank you,” I whisper. “I can do that myself.”

10

Chapter 10

FINN

When I brake late on the corner, the thought comes, unbidden.

I wonder if she followed through.

I picture her naked on a hotel bed, golden curls a halo in the dimmed lighting, splayed out over the pillow as she throws her head back. Her bare legs pulled up as one hand disappears between her thighs, her neck long and taut and her heartbeat throbbing below her ear. Her mouth opens in a moan, other hand cupping her full breast, the line of flesh at her waist as her full figure twists in ecstasy…

I am losing my mind.

Furiously, I line up for the straight. I need to aim to get the car on the opposite side of the track so that I maximise the corner’s radius and take it at as high as possible speed. I’m still tearing down recklessly. It’s been like this since we pulled away at the start. I love the UK track and its home soil. It does something to you.

On the pull away I clip two cars and concede a position penalty and somewhere ahead Rheese is doing a happy dance. I nearly spin out on the first corner and realise I’m pushing too hard, too fast.

I don’t care.

I am so fucking furious. I know when I push her she will balk, and yet I can’t walk away without trying.

She said she doesn’t mix business with pleasure, and yet I felt her hardened nipples through the fabric of her chest when she pressed up against me.

She said she wouldn’t be here much longer, and yet she wouldn’t have me casually.

I climb on the brakes, harness pulling me back hard, and downshift, the gearbox aiding me in slowing down. The car gives an angry tremor, but I’m already at the apex of the turn and hitting the throttle, balancing the speed with the tyre grip so that the energy doesn’t go to waste. I over steer and the rear of the car gives a wobble before the grip kicks in and I’m tearing down the road.

Erik comes on comms to admonish me.

He is stressed out to capacity. Thirty laps in and I haven’t paid attention to a word he’s said.

“P ten.”

Not for long. Rousseau is up ahead, and I need him to fuck off. At the next corner, I floor it to be by his side and we go wheel to wheel before he slows down to let me pass. He’s not into playing chicken. I guess he has something to live for.

I scoff.

Erik hears it over comms and checks in to make sure the car is okay.

“P nine.”

Two laps later, I’m back at the same corner and this time I’m too out of control. I clip the apex and sparks fly. I hear Erik gasp.

He cautions me again, but he’s getting angry now, too.

We can all be angry together.

I gain three positions and now I’m sixth again and we have five laps remaining. We’re all bunching up trying to fight to climb positions, all except Ollie far up ahead.

It’s now or never.

I come up behind Rheese.

He’s behind Matteo Severini. Matteo is actively blocking him to allow Lorenzo Fontana ahead to battle forth uninterrupted.

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