Page 22 of Start Your Engines

“True, but I need someone who challenges me and excites me and who I can chat to for hours and someone who at least understands this industry and?—”

“Who has a nine-inch dick and is called Connor Dane?”

I throw my pillow at her. “He’s the last person I want to date. Ever! And I don’t want to date someone who lies about the size of their penis.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “But what if he’s not lying?”

I lick my lips at the idea of Connor Dane undressing in front of me. Suddenly, a chocolate bar smacks me in the head.

“Down, girl. Save those saucy faces for when you’re alone,” Jacs shouts.

CHAPTER 10

Senna

“Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”Connor says to Silas as I walk into the gym.

“Tell anyone what?” I ask before I see him for the first time since the race in Bahrain days earlier.

Connor pounds the treadmill. His baggy shorts ripple, and sweat drips down his bare chest. Drops slide across tattoos that I’ve never seen in the flesh. My tongue swells as I take in the whole delicious look complete with a backwards cap. I focus on his eyes for fear that my face will reveal the fantasies that are desperately clawing through my consciousness. I shouldn’t have come down here.

Connor winks at me, and I glare before forcing myself to focus on Silas, who is making notes on a tablet.

“Tell anyone what?” I repeat. My voice rasps this time.

“I didn’t want Silas to tell anyone that I got a request from my agent. He asked if I would do a naked photo shoot,” he pants as he runs, but his stare never leaves mine. A drop of sweat rests in the bow of his full lips. Fuck. I want to lick it. “They asked for the driver with the biggest dick.”

Silas chokes.

“You’re such a liar. I’ll find out what you’re hiding,” I reply.

“I’ll show it to you anytime you want, but only if you ask, because consent is important to me.”

I close my eyes and count to five. Consent is nearly as sexy as the image of a nearly naked, sweating Connor Dane in a backwards cap, bracketing me with his arms as he asks me how much I want to see what is hidden underneath his boxers. I shake my head.

“Are you blushing, boss?”

“No, I’m just pissed off, as my day is going to fuck, which brings me to you.” I force a smile. “Firstly, we need to talk about your race at the weekend. How are you doing?”

His eye twitches, and he looks down and focuses on the treadmill. “I’m grand.”

I debate my options. I need his truth, but we’re not at a stage where he can trust me. “Okay, maybe it’s not the time for a review.” He continues to avoid eye contact. “I do need a favour, though.”

He stares at me with a furrowed brow, and for some hellish reason, it makes my heart beat faster than when he smirks and winks.

I clear my throat. “I need you to do a meet-and-greet for a competition winner. Antoine was booked to do it, but he’s disappeared and isn’t answering calls. The guests are arriving in fifteen minutes.”

“You’re done,” Silas comments.

Connor jumps off the treadmill and wipes his body with a towel. “What’s in it for me?” he asks before slowly licking the bead of sweat on his cupid’s bow.

My breath hitches.

“What do you want?”

He lifts his eyebrows twice quickly, and I ready myself to knock him out. “I’m your boss, Dane, not one of your grid honeys.”

He squeezes his lips like he’s trying not to laugh. “Grid honeys. That’s a new one.” He wipes down his chest. I want to study the tattoos. Fuck, if I’m being honest, I want to trace them with my tongue. “Boss, could you call my sister?”

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