One Shots | Formula 1

MV✩

"Do you really wonder what it is that makes me want to scream?"

The team event in Monaco was supposed to be a fun break from the rigors of Formula 1, a chance for us Red Bull Racing teammates to unwind. But for me, it was becoming a test of willpower, keeping up the facade that Max Verstappen was nothing more than an irritating colleague.

From the moment we first met, I couldn't deny the attraction. Max had that effortless charm and those intense eyes that made me feel like he could see right through me. It was a feeling I'd been trying to suppress ever since we started working together. The truth was, Max Verstappen made me feel things—things I could barely admit to myself, let alone anyone else. He made me feel... well, horny. There, I said it.

It all began that day in the Red Bull Racing headquarters. He walked in with that confident swagger, as if he owned the place, and maybe in a way he did. I was busy with my own tasks, trying not to pay too much attention to the new recruit. But then our eyes met, and in that split second, I felt a jolt of electricity. Max grinned, probably thinking I was sizing him up as competition. Little did he know, I was sizing him up for a completely different reason.

Since then, I'd perfected the art of pretending not to care. Max seemed to take this as a challenge. He made it his personal mission to get under my skin, perhaps convinced that I despised him. The truth was far from it, but admitting the reality of my feelings would only complicate things. So, I played along with his game of petty provocations.

Despite Max's relentless teasing, I maintained my composure as we navigated through the crowded room. The team event had turned into a web of social obligations, and being stuck with Max only heightened the tension between us.

As we mingled with the guests, Max couldn't resist taking subtle shots at me whenever the opportunity arose. He was like a mischievous child, testing the limits of my patience. "You know," he remarked casually to a group of colleagues, "she's convinced she's the fastest driver on the team."

I rolled my eyes, a faint smile playing on my lips. "Because I am," I shot back, keeping my tone light despite the underlying challenge.

Max flashed me a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Confidence is good," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I resisted the urge to play along with his game, knowing all too well where it could lead. Instead, I turned my attention to the conversation around us, engaging with the other guests as if Max's presence didn't affect me in the slightest.

But the truth was, every word he spoke, every glance he threw my way, stirred a longing within me that I struggled to suppress. Max had a way of getting under my skin, and as much as I wanted to hate him for it, I couldn't deny the thrill of his attention.

As the evening progressed, Max's provocations became more daring. He leaned in close during one conversation, his breath brushing against my ear. "You're awfully quiet tonight," he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

I shot him a warning glance, my cheeks flushing at his proximity. "Just enjoying the party," I replied, forcing myself to maintain an air of indifference.

Max chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sure you are," he teased, his hand grazing mine subtly.

I resisted the urge to pull away, my heart racing at the unexpected touch. Max was playing a dangerous game, and I was walking a fine line between restraint and surrender.

The tension between Max and me reached a boiling point as our banter escalated into something more heated. It was as if we were in our own little world, oblivious to the watchful eyes around us.