Twists and Turns in Monte Carlo: A Formula 1 Affair

{7.2}

"It is way too early", she mumbled sleepy turning around to face him.

Toto was buttoning up his Team Principal shirt and looked at her with amusement. "It's race day, I have to work. The world championship doesn't win itself."

She is still wearing his shirt, her hair all over the place.

"Or," she smiled mischievously, "you come back to bed and explain to me exactly how the affair thing works. Because that," she pointed at him, "is hot. Remind me, please, that you're supposed to fuck me in this uniform."

Toto grinned. "Maybe next time. Good to know for the future. More things on your bucket list?"Joanne sat up, crawled to the edge of the bed and began to finish buttoning his shirt for him. "Of course, Mr. Wolff. But all in good time."

When she had finished, she gave him a light slap on his bottom and let herself fall back into bed. Toto stepped back into the bathroom, his gaze still fixed on Joanne, who was swiping at her cell phone. How he would love to spend the whole day with her in this room.

But her voice interrupted his thoughts. "What, Jo?"

"I asked you if you've ever destroyed a hotel room. You know, for the list. Or am I making it a bingo?" She stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"You have?" He asked her, amused. The young woman in front of him was always a mystery to him. 
What had she already experienced? She was definitely no wallflower and he also knew that rich children like to go over the top. The mere fact that she was completely tattooed despite her choice of profession made him grin slightly. That she was too clever for her own good and apparently always one step ahead of him, but didn't let him know it. Now he was almost grinning like a teenager as he finished packing his things.

Long slender arms wrapped around his torso and he could feel her body against his. She hugged him tightly from behind and rested her head on his shoulder. He gently stroked her arm, fuck he wanted to leave already. If she carried on like this, he wouldn't be able to get away. Her nipple piercings pressed against him and immediately made him feel a tug in his loins.

He slowly turned around, grabbed her hair and made her look up at him. "Next time. What are you up to now?" He could see that this turned her on even more.

"I'm flying back to New York. Besides, I have therapy today. My therapist is going to throw up his hands when I tell them this. And no stress, no naming names."

Toto gave her a kiss on the head before he left her.

Fuck, did he just take a piece of her heart?

<3

Toto stood on the pit wall, his eyes glued to the monitors displaying real-time data of the cars zipping around the Miami track. The air was thick with the smell of burning rubber and fuel, the deafening roar of the engines merging with the chatter of team radios. 

Mechanics and engineers moved with precision, making last-minute adjustments, their faces set in intense concentration. This was race day, and every second counted.

Paul Ripke, ever the sharp observer, navigated through the bustling garage, his camera capturing the raw energy and frantic pace of the pit lane. Spotting Toto, he weaved his way through the crowd, curiosity piqued by the unusual tension he sensed from his friend.

"Toto," Paul called out, leaning casually against the pit wall, his camera resting at his side. "You look... different today. Distracted. I smell drama. What's going on?"

Toto kept his gaze fixed on the track, his expression inscrutable. "Just focusing on the race, Paul. We've got a championship to win."

Paul wasn't buying it. He had known Toto long enough to recognize when something was off. "Cut the crap, Toto. I've seen you on race day hundreds of times. This isn't just race stress. What's going on?"

Toto sighed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Paul, now isn't the time. I'm busy."

Paul raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Busy? You're always busy. But you're never this edgy. Come on, spill it. What's got you so twisted up?"

Toto's jaw tightened, his eyes flicking back to the monitors. "Drop it, Paul. Not here."

Paul leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "You seeing someone? Is that it? Someone you shouldn't be seeing? Let me guess... the sponsor's granddaughter? The way you two acted yesterday said loud and clear 'we fuck'."

Toto's eyes widened for a brief moment before he regained his composure. He hadn't expected Paul to hit so close to the mark. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his tone cool.

Paul's smirk turned into a grin. "Oh, I think you do. You're not exactly subtle, Toto. And if I'm right, you're playing with fire. She's not just anyone. She's the sponsor's granddaughter. That's a whole new level of stupidity, even for you."

Toto turned sharply to face Paul, his expression hardening. "Watch it, Paul. You don't know what you're talking about."

Paul shrugged, his amusement undiminished. "Maybe not. But I know you. And I know that look. Just don't say I didn't warn you when this blows up in your face."

Toto leaned in, his voice a low growl. "Stay out of it, Paul. This isn't your business. If I figure you tell anyone, I will raise hell."

Paul chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, I'll stay out of it—for now. But just remember, Toto, you're not as good at hiding things as you think. And if this gets out... well, you're on your own."

As Paul walked away, Toto allowed himself a small, private smile. Paul had always had an uncanny ability to read him. But Toto pushed those thoughts aside, refocusing on the race. 

There would be time to deal with the complexities of his personal life later. For now, the championship was all that mattered.