Moscow Mule - [Pierre Gasly]

IV

   Azar slowly slid off the barstool, the hotelbar was about to close, which meant she and Pierre had to leave. She felt a little tipsy, but she wasn't out of balance on her heels. Azar watched the Formula 1-driver as he drew his card and paid for their drinks. Pierre put his wallet in his backpocket again, greeting the bartender as he turned around to her. Azar brushed her hair over her shoulder, taking her purse as she waited for him. "Are you going to sleep?" Pierre asked, walking with her to the hallway of the hotel and to the elevators. "I think so," Azar replied. "Aren't you?" She rose an eyebrow at him. "Should be the best for me," Pierre said, watching her arm extending to press on the button of the elevator. "Well, goodnight," Azar spoke, but he got into the elevator with her. "I'll bring you to your room," he grinned. "I can get there myself," she said, looking up at him, but pressing the top floor button anyway. "I'm sure you can," Pierre replied. "But, I'm a gentleman and I will bring you to your room," he said, taking a step closer to her. "Hmm, fine," Azar answered, looking up at him through her lashes.

Pierre was close enough to her to smell the vanilla scent of her perfume that lured him in ever further, he was close enough to her that just extending his fingers would touch her fine body. The elevator beeped to announce they had reached the top floor, and Azar brushed past him to walk out. "You got yourself a suite?" Pierre mentioned, making her chuckle. "Didn't your team get you one?" she replied, stopping in front of her door. "Something with a budgetcap," he muttered, nearing her again. "I see," Azar said. "Thanks for the drinks," she continued, feeling his hands curling around her waist, as they were barely ten centimeters apart anyway. "I'll see you tomorrow," Pierre said, his eyes flickering between her lips and her eyes. She let out a giggle, her hand reaching up to caress his jaw before she took his chin between her fingers, turning his face as her lips pressed to his cheek. "You wish, Pierre Gasly," she said, letting go of him to slide her card through the holder and enter her hotel suite. "Goodnight," she spoke over her shoulder, leaving him at her door as it fell closed.

Pierre shook his head, leaning his arm against the wall for a second, gnawing at his bottom lip at how soft her mouth had felt on his cheek. He gathered himself to get to the elevator, selecting the first floor to leave. He leaned towards the mirror, seeing the soft pink of her lipstick that had stained on his skin. He chuckled, wiping it off with some saliva. Pierre went outside, shoving his hands in his pockets at the fresh midnight air that greeted him. He hauled a cab, muttering the name of the hotel he was staying in. Pierre looked out of the window, having Azar Hosseini on his mind. She had looked so pretty tonight, and earlier today. Her flirtatious behaviour was absolutely hot, and she knew damn well what she was doing. For once, he had no idea if this girl was attracted to him or not. He felt like she could wrap anyone around her finger with a bat of her lashes and that stunning smile of hers, that he wasn't sure if she was playing him or not. They met barely two days ago, but his mind was obsessed with her. And the fact that she was better at flirting than him, clearly bothered him.

The cab dropped him off at his hotel, and Pierre paid him, not bothering to ask for the change as he already headed inside the hotel. Pierre went up to his floor by elevator, gladly heading into his room. He emptied the pockets of his jeans and undressed himself to get to bed. Pierre brushed his teeth in the bathroom, drank a glass of water and hopped right into the soft bed. The air-conditioning made sure the temperature was nice in the room, so he took a last look at his phone before charging it and setting an alarm, getting some rest for tomorrow, because he wanted to do well in the race of Miami, especially if he could show off for Azar.

        "You have to tell us everything," Lucas said as he got into the car in the backseat. Azar was driving to the track today. Yasna sat down next to her, while Daria also got into the backseat. Azar checked if she could cross the road as the excited the parking garage and then followed the instructions of the GPS. "We had some drinks," Azar replied, leaning her elbow on the door, against the window while her fingertips were loosely wrapped around the side of the steering wheel. "That can't be it," Daria complained, leaning in the two seats in the front of the car. "We talked while we had the drinks?" She laughed as she earned more grunts and groans. "It was fun, he was nice," she added. "Were you?" Yasna said. "I might have mixed up naughty and nice a little," Azar shrugged. "Nothing too bad. I like how he's so easy to flirt with," she added. "What was he wearing, bestie? I love the button-ups I saw on his Instagram," Lucas chirped as they exchanged a look through the rearview mirror. "He was wearing a white button-up and a pair of ripped jeans. He looked really good, actually," Azar said.