“I need to talk, Coulter.”
She glowers at me. I can’t bring myself to call her boss. She’ll love it too much, and I can’t have that. It will make the amber in her eyes sparkle and her lips quirk in a way that used to make my heart beat faster. I shake my head and grit my teeth.
A waft of sandalwood chokes me as Antoine strides into the office. “I must be in the car tomorrow. I’m your shining star and leading driver, and the press want me.”
“Hold up, buddy,” I reply, squaring up to Antoine.
Ralf returns to his seat by the desk.
“You got this, Little Boss. Do it your way,” he whispers to Senna.
Antoine gets in my face. “Hey, pretty boy.”
“There’s nothing pretty about me, dipshit, and there won’t be anything pretty about you once I’ve finished.” Antoine’s clipped me several times “accidentally” over the years. I don’t know if it’s payback because his sister wanted to date me or because I didn’t grow up in a rich family like him. “I don’t trust you, and I don’t like you.”
“Number two has a big mouth for someone who’ll fail this year. What you going to do, pretty boy?”
I tip my head and raise my eyebrows in a challenge. “That depends. Can you fight like a man when you’re not hiding inside a car?”
He pulls back his shoulders and squeezes his hands. I can take this punk, and the desire to grips me when I think about how he’s been hanging around Senna and making digs about her to some of the mechanics.
“Oi!” Senna shouts, jumping up and wedging herself between us.
Fuck. Her body is against mine. It’s soft in ways it wasn’t years ago. Her breasts press into my chest, and my stomach bottoms out. She smells of the fantasies that have continued to plague me for ten years. I jump back like she’s made of blistering fire rather than beauty and strength.
“Both of you, sit down while I tell you the ground rules.”
My body twitches, and blood rushes down. I grind my teeth. Angry Senna shouldn’t pull a reaction from my body. I’m so fucked up. I’m here to protect her, not to enjoy her authority.
“Bonjour, Senna,” Antoine starts as I sit.
“Don’t ‘bonjour, Senna’ me, Antoine, and don’t walk into my office without waiting to be allowed in. That’s for both of you.” She scowls at me, and goosebumps rise on my naked arms. I push the sleeves of my hoodie down. She sees the action, and something clouds her face briefly. “You don’t fight in my office like a pathetic pair of schoolboys. You don’t fight anywhere. You are teammates, and you will behave as such. You support each other off and on the track. And if you can’t do that, you avoid each other. Am I clear?”
Her voice reverberates off the walls. I hold back my smile and shift against my grey joggers. She’s breathtaking, like the ultimate fighter, but with the beauty of a goddess.
I shake my head. I can’t have these thoughts.
“Did you shake your head at me, Dane?” she shouts.
I go to shake my head again but think better of it in case she accuses me of taunting her. “No.”
“No what?”
She stands so close that one more step would put her between my legs. I fist my hands and will my body to behave.
“No, boss,” I reply between gritted teeth. It sounds so good coming from my mouth. She’s hot as the boss, even more than when she told me what to do as a teenager. I’m nearly breathless.
“That’s right. I’m your boss, and I decide, Antoine, who does what tomorrow.” She’s staring at him, and I miss having those eyes on me. “Understood?”
He tips his head and gives a smile that a particular faction on social media calls his “panty-wetting smile.” I check Senna, relieved she’s glaring rather than fanning herself.
“Yes, boss,” Antoine says, and it’s all I can do not to smack that smirk off his face.
“Good.” Her fingers swipe her scar, revealing that, as much as she’s trying to be the big boss, she’s struggling. I don’t move, instead putting all my energy into scowling at Antoine, who licks his lips seductively as he stares at Senna. “Tomorrow, you will both get to drive. We don’t know if the car will work; that is the point of Shakedown, after all. Now, get out and wait for my call about who is starting tomorrow and what to say to the press.”
I leave with Antoine behind me. He calls over his shoulder, “I look forward to your call,” in a voice too gravelly for my liking.
As we leave the office, Ralf says to Senna, “Well done, Little Boss.”