"Lando, can you help me figure something out quickly?"
The man leans back in his seat and watches me intently with cold eyes.
"Sure Zak, anything for the big boss at Mclaren. Wassup?"
"How long... have you been sleeping with my daughter?"
In a fast...
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It was a hard pill to swallow, to shake the unsettling feeling of him with another woman. I kept having to stop myself from drowning in thoughts of Lando's boundaries being violated.
"I'm good if you're good," he said. Am I though?
But I tried to not let it get to me - to not picture what I imagined must've been a bombshell of a woman playfully batting her long lashes and offering herself up to him.
And here I was, a fraction of someone I used to be. Broken, bruised... and beautiful. Beautiful is how he has always seen me, flaws and all.
My shotgun passenger brushed the skin of the manicured fingers sticking out of my casted wrist with his thumb as we approach our final destination.
The other thing that had me hot and bothered the most was the fact that I wanted to be the one to press my body against his, to pin him down but instead of having him reject me, I wanted him to beg to fuck me.
A long line of eager club goers stretches 'round the corner of the street and some even point excitedly to the car when they recognise the Briton through the glass windows. Lando's hand rests nestled between my inner thighs when we pull up in the reserved parking of the venue.
When I turn to face him, I am met by the smouldering sparkling blues of his sleepy eyes. The formula one driver is already staring at me with a flirty smirk on his face.
Sometimes when he looks at me like this, it feels like my heart is wildly cartwheeling through a cloud of wanderlust.
"What?" I question coyly, leaning over to place my hands on his neck to draw him carefully towards me. Just close enough so he can feel the sweet warmth of my breath on his lips. "What is it Mr. Norris?"
Lando's hand moves deliberately slowly a few inches up the inside of my dress as we maintain our sultry staring contest in the shadows. I almost forget how to breathe.
"You wore this dress on purpose," he says finally breaking our eye contact to stare at the red of my lips. Our lips are so close to each other I can almost feel the movement of his on mine as he speaks.
"You knew I'd have a hard time, especially since I'm a sucker for you in heels too."
I run my fingernails through the back of his hair, making sure to caress his head just as he likes and softly whisper in his ear, "You're also a sucker for me when I'm not wearing any panties."
I didn't need to see his face to know that the realisation of what I'd just said left a scorching visual in his brain. There was no reason for me to not be wearing any other than to make him desire me even more. Throw in the fact that he couldn't kiss me until I gave him the go ahead.
