Page 37 of Pole Position

“I know.”

Her blasé response took me by surprise for a moment and I laughed, enjoying the way Bianca’s lips curled into a smile against my own.

“Well, so long as we’re in agreement I guess,” I replied dryly. Bianca continued to pepper me with kisses.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She paused, easing up onto her knees until my semi–hard dick slipped out from her body. “Yep, I still like you even when your cock isn’t buried in me. We’re good.”

“You flatter me,” I teased.

We locked eyes for a moment, but before either of us could say anything more, the car began to pick up speed. We hastily parted and Bianca tugged her dress back up whilst I tucked my dick back into my trousers and zipped them up. I fished her underwear up from the floor, handing them across with a grin before clearing my throat and pressing the intercom.

“Is everything moving again, Javier?”

“Yes, Mr Wright. The authorities have finally opened a lane. It’s slow, but we’re moving,” he replied.

“Great.” I glanced at Bianca. “No rush, hm?”

I swore at that moment that the dazzling smile she cast me would forever be seared into my memory, remembered as one of the best nights of my life.

The car ride back to the hotel was an unusual one. With nothing better to do, and the sexual tension between us sated for the time being at least, Bianca and I chatted easily. It was still amazing to me that I could be so at ease around a woman I felt so strongly for. In the past, those two emotions had seemed at odds with one another.

We eventually arrived back at the hotel, exhausted and in need of a shower. We strolled past our security detail in the hallway, each muttering a greeting to the burly man as we turned the corner that led to our rooms. I fished my key card from my pocket, swiping it down the lock mechanism until it beeped, and I heard the gears grinding as the door opened. When Bianca continued walking, I faltered.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I murmured, keeping my voice low so as not to draw attention.

“To my room?” Bianca replied, raising a brow.

I grinned, stepping aside to hold the door open for her. “Oh no you don’t. Get in here.”

For the first time since I’d met her, I saw uncertainty on Bianca’s face, and she hesitated. “Why? I’m not sure I’ve got another round in me tonight.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” I teased, pausing before continuing. “Seriously, come on. We both need a shower and then I’d like to fall into bed beside you… If that suits your highness, naturally.”

I was treated to another bright smile that made my chest ache, and I barely resisted a sigh of relief as Bianca scurried to join me.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Good girl, I knew you’d make the right choice.”

I laughed at the scathing glance that earnt me and followed Bianca into my room, ensuring the door was locked firmly behind me.

Weeks passed us by and before I’d truly realised it, we were preparing for the last race of the season which was due to take place in Budapest, Hungary. I’d run the numbers repeatedly – provided there were no absolute disasters, the McLaren teamwere going to win the constructor’s championship. I couldn’t have been prouder. It was a real testament to the hard work everyone had put in this year. I might have only been acting team principal, but I already felt as though I belonged, and I had high hopes for being invited to take the position full time should the last race go as I planned.

I sipped my tea, brow furrowed with concentration as I leafed through a stack of paperwork, hunting for the details regarding the flight I’d chartered for us all. My phone buzzed loudly against the wooden desk, but I ignored it. It was my work device and whatever message had come through could wait five more minutes. It rumbled again… and again… and again. I sighed and snatched the phone up, navigating to my notifications. There was an email marked as urgent from Carlos, followed by a text message urging me to read what he’d sent. A pit formed in my stomach as I quickly located the email in question.

‘You need to see this. It was published this morning.’

There was a link to an article in Sporting Chance, an up and coming sport journalism brand that focused on the successes of women in sport. A journalist called Davina Geovanni was responsible for writing compelling columns about Formula One and I had often enjoyed reading her work. My mouth grew dry as I followed the link and was brought face to face with a photograph of Bianca and me at the sponsor function in Singapore. It was framed perfectly, with a clear view of her hand grabbing my behind.

“Fuuuuck,”I groaned, rubbing my temple as I hastily scrolled to read the rest of the article – entitled‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun’.

‘If boys will be boys, then it’s high time we let girls be girls – a statement rockstar and all–round racing hot shot Bianca Rossi clearly agrees with.’

‘In 2024, the world watched with bated breath as Maddie Michaels paved the way for women in Formula One. In a blaze of glory, Michaels brought home both the constructor’s championship and the driver’s championship for Ferrari that year and little girls everywhere began to draw pictures of race cars, boldly stating they were going to be just like Maddie when they grew up. With a much–needed boost of funding, we finally began to see true female talent coming through that could rival their male counterparts… and yet that’s where things stalled.’

‘Women may now be standing tall atop that lofty podium, but they are still suffering at the hand of sexism and pressure to remain silent in the face of sexual harassment and assault, just as they always have in every walk of life since the dawn of time.’

“Oh, god,” I muttered, suddenly feeling sick. Was that what I was being accused of? Had Davina somehow gotten wind of my relationship with Bianca? This would be the end of me, not just at McLaren, but in the racing circuit forever. I forced myself to keep reading.

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