Off the Track Series Book 3
An unexpected twist of fate finds Charlotte spending a late night turned early morning with Max Verstappen. The only catch - He doesn't even touch her, but they do touch each others hearts. After a lifetime of getting it...
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Ten cigarettes, three drinks, a car, and a text message for a room number later - I'm fucking doing it. If there's one thing I need after how my week going on it's a distraction. Just one night not sleeping alone... since things ended with Max it's been impossible to sleep. The nice part of being up all hours of the night is it gives me a lot of time to write and work. The not so nice part is how much time I'm left to my thoughts.
To my regrets.
Well, not tonight.
Biting my lip when I knock on the door, there's no turning back now.
I don't even know why I'm so worried. It's just 2025, buuuuut fuck, call me a loser, but it feels so wild to be doing something like this.
Should I just turn back now? He's on the same floor as me, same hotel of course so if I slipped my heels off there's a chance a could run for it.
"I knew you'd be here." The door swings open to reveal Alonso, brushing against me when I walk past him into the suite is enough to send sparks of anticipation rushing throughout me.
There's a man in the room.
Oh.
Why did I assume it was a woman?
His head lifts abruptly, his gaze holding Alonso's before it meets my own. "First time, right?" His voice is thick with an Italian accent, tanned skin and wavy hair as dark as the night. My hesitation tonight means I'm late to the party, but his eyes tell me I'm a welcome guest. His shirt is already gone revealing his intense eight pack. The man is a damn model, and when he approaches to kiss my hand I can't help but think of all the other places I'd like his lips.
The world already thinks I'm a whore so why the fuck not?
"Ciao, I'm Dylan. You're beautiful honey." The stranger speaks.
What country are we in again? Not even sure I remember at this point in the travel haze that my year has turned into. "Pleasure is mine, please call me Cat." Fuck that was so formal. What else does one say in this situation? I need a fucking drink. What am I even meant to do with myself right no - Sit or stand? This anticipation is fucking killer. The silence is so deafening I can hear myself gulp. Dylan's eyes undress me, "You seem nervous honey. But you should know—Fernando I have a lot of experience in making a woman feel good."
Walking over to the bar I pour myself another drink, turning just in time to see Alonso patting the couch cushion next to him. "Come here."
He's not asking, but still I'm hesitating.
"Don't make me pick you up and carry you over here. You know what you came for tonight," his tone is a warning I don't bother testing him on, planting myself in the seat next to him. "We're not just saying what you want to hear in order to make you feel better. And you know what? Fuck feeling better—We can make you feel something new. One time only baby girl, I know just how to make your night."
