Page 57 of Close Contact
We filtered out of the media pen, cameras still flashing in our periphery. I felt high—on adrenaline, champagne, and the fact thatCallumhadn’t taken his eyes off me in forty minutes.
As we stepped into the corridor, Marco clappedCallumon the back. “Drinks tonight? Monaco’s already throwing a party for her.”
“I need to change first,” I cut in, my voice cool but pleasant. “And shower. I smell like victory and sex.”
Callumchoked beside me. I said it just to fuck with his head, but I didn’t look at him.Worth it.
Marco glanced between us, face contorting to a look of disgust. “When the fuck did you two have time to makethathappen? Actually, you know what? I don’t want to know. I was wondering why you both made driving sound likeforeplay in there. Gross. Try to keep it in your fucking pants during the party, why don’t you?”
“Wow, what a speech,”Callumteased. “You done now?”
Marco laughed. “I’ll text you guys the details.” He turned and strode off, whistling like a man who hadn’t just unknowingly interrupted the most sexually charged silence inF1history.
The second he was out of sight, our shoulders brushed. I didn’t think—I just hooked mypinkyaroundCallum’s. It was stupid. Reckless. But it said everything.
He didn’t let go. “You really said sex.”
“You didn’t deny it either,” I murmured.
His voice dropped to that low, dangerous murmur I felt everywhere. “You keep talking like that and I’ll take you right back to that wall.”
I pressed my thighs together to give myself a little bit of friction. It didn’t work. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
Callumsucked in a breath just as voices grew closer to the door of the press room we’d just been in. We yanked our hands apart just as the door opened, andCallumgrabbed my shoulder to casually guide me away from the reporters who were now watching us like hawks.
We broke away from the crowd, rounding the corner of the media pen, just far enough out of sight. Still too public to touch the way we wanted to yet too close for me to breathe properly.
He stopped walking and turned to me. His hand found mine again—this time not pinkies, but the full thing, fingers sliding between mine like they belonged there.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive the next few hours,”Callummurmured, stepping close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off his still-damp skin. “I keep thinking about what it felt like to have you shaking in my hands.”
I swallowed hard, pulse pounding. “Same. And I was really looking forward to you showing me what a good girl I was today. You know, returning the favor from earlier.”
He exhaled sharply. His forehead pressed to mine, gentle and intimate, but his grip on my hand tightened as though he was barely keeping control. “Don’t say that to me here,” he whispered. “You’ll kill me.”
“You said it first,” I breathed. “You called me your love in front of a thousand cameras. What if our radios had been on?”
He smiled, a slow, wrecked thing. “I meant it.”
I stepped closer, needing him around me. “I told you what would happen if you did.”
“I know. You didn’t seem mad.”
“Oh, no,” I said lightly, curling my fingers into his. “I liked it. I think I liked it a little too much.”
He pulled back just enough to drag his impossibly blue eyes over my face. “You want me to say it again?”
“Don’t you dare,” I whispered. “Not unless you want to fuck me on the side of the building.”
He chuckled low in his throat. “You say that like I’m not already thinking about it.” He cupped my cheek with his free hand. “Aurélie.” It sounded like a prayer.
I let the moment stretch before leaning in and whispering, “Si tu continues à me regarder comme ça, je vais te supplier deme ramener chez toi.”
He froze. Visibly. Just… stopped functioning. “What did you just say?” His voice had dropped an octave. His pupils were blown wide.
I grinned, putting distance between us, our arms outstretching, hands still intertwined. Both of us refused to let go. “Figure it out,monchampion.”
“No, I heard you, love. But you can’t say shit like that and walk away.”
