I smiled to myself, ecstatic I’d gotten a rise from Kristian so easily. I had been dreading returning to the status quo, but it appeared my relationship with the team principal was forever altered and I couldn’t have been happier. I tapped out a response.
BIANCA: I’m not sure I know what you mean.
I hoped the sarcasm came across as I intended. Two blue ticks illuminated beside the message, and I waited with excitement fizzing in my chest as I watched Kristian typing.
KRISTIAN: Hm, I’m sure you don’t. How are you feeling this morning?
BIANCA: Rather refreshed and relaxed, thanks for asking. Yourself?
KRISTIAN: What a coincidence – the same here. I wonder why that is?
I smiled and typed out a reply.
BIANCA: It’s a mystery.
“What’s got you grinning at your phone like a Cheshire cat?” Sophia’s voice broke my train of thought, and I quickly schooledmy features into a more familiar scowl. I locked my phone screen, keeping my hand planted over it.
“Nothing. Just a funny meme,” I replied.
“Show me?”
“I’ve closed it down now.” I lay my head on the lounger, ignoring my phone when it buzzed in my palm.
“Alright, sorry,” Sophia huffed. “Didn’t mean to pry.”
I held off as long as I was able to, ensuring Sophia’s attention was fixed elsewhere before I risked glancing at my phone again.
KRISTIAN: Can we get together again sometime?
His question caught me off guard, but in the best way. I’d been nervous about broaching the subject of making sex with Kristian a regular thing without coming across as too keen, but here was Mr Wright, just putting it out there plainly. I loved that.
BIANCA: After last night’s performance? Whenever the hell you’d like!
KRISTIAN: Well, that’s nice to know. I’ll keep it in mind.
BIANCA: You’d better.
KRISTIAN: Trust me, I’m going to have a hard time keeping last night off my mind. Especially when you’ve got your arse out.
I wondered just how closely I was being watched. I didn’t respond and instead casually stretched out my back, lifting my behind a little into the air before lowering myself back down onto the lounger. Three dots appeared as Kristian typed.
KRISTIAN: You’re cruel.
BIANCA: Sorry, not sorry.
KRISTIAN: That’s alright. The more you wind me up, the more I’ll be making you pay for it when we’re alone. That’s a promise, gorgeous.
I felt my cheeks flush and I hastily closed my screen down and turned my phone over. I had well and truly opened a can of worms with the team principal, but whilst I knew it hadthe potential to get messy, I couldn’t bring myself to regret a moment of it.
As the race season progressed, the McLaren team’s early successes were short–lived. The races that followed were a string of disappointments – engine failures, minor crashes and time penalties for stupid mistakes. The points that Sophia and I had worked so hard to net for both the team’s constructor championship and our chances at the driver’s championship dwindled. It set me on edge, lighting a fire of determination beneath me. I wasn’t about to go down without a fight.
Both Kristian and I found ourselves consumed by work. It was as relentless as always – dawn ‘til dusk, 24/7 – but I found myself growing steadily more and more frustrated. It felt as if my entire life had been swallowed up. With the fear of our success slipping away from us, Sophia and I weren’t the only ones desperate to hold on to it. Kristian kept us all busy between races with team meetings, testing out new improvements out on the racetrack, followed by hours and hours of technical debriefs. When I wasn’t jetting between countries or in the cockpit of my car racing around a track, I was in the gym with my PT breathing down my neck. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, there were the constant press engagements and sponsor dinners… It had always been this way, but it occurred to me that perhaps this was the first time I’d had something outside of racing that I was keen to pursue; Kristian.
On the surface, things were just as they’d always been. I continued to push back against Kristian’s attempt to wrangle me under control and we constantly butted heads, but in private our conversations were decidedly steamier. The weeks passed usby, and we hadn’t yet found another opportunity to be physical with one another. It was driving mecrazy.The sexual tension between us was intense, and the excitement of pretending it wasn’t during working hours combined with the filthy text messages and occasional photograph that we shared after dark was the perfect storm.
It was after yet another disappointing race – where I had taken wing damage early on, and Sophia’s mechanics had fumbled her pit stop – that I sat at the edge of my bed, dolled up and waiting for the call to tell me the car had arrived to take the McLaren team to a sponsor function. Thankfully it was a cocktail party and not a stuffy, formal dinner so it would be easier for me to slope off when I’d had enough of fluffing the egos of the rich, old men who funded our team. I glanced at myself in the mirror, tugging at the neckline of my dress and hoping it wasn’t too much to ask not to be pawed at all night. There was only one man in attendance this evening who I would want grabbing my arse, but I had a feeling I was going to spend the night avoiding unwanted advances from others instead. I shuddered. The sooner this was over, the better.
My phone buzzed and I glanced down at it. There was a message from Sophia.