Page 38 of Drive Me Crazy
“Have you been working on your compliments, Blake?”Ella shakes her head in mock annoyance, her brown hair shining under the streetlights. “They’re slowly getting better.”
“I know how to compliment!” I hold my hands up in surrender. “Just don’t want you trying to sleep with me if I give you too much positive reinforcement.”
“It’s cute that you think everyone wants to sleep with you.” She seductively licks her ice cream while maintaining eye contact in a tantalizing way. It sends a direct message straight to my dick. “Because I don’t.”
“So if I kissed you right now, you wouldn’t want to tear my clothes off?”
She snorts. “I promise your clothes would stay on.”
“Want to make a bet?”
It’s a quiet night, making Ella’s lack of response even louder. She stops in the middle of the street before turning to me. Conflicting emotions plague her face.
“You really think if you kiss me right now, I’m going to want to pull you into an alley and bang your brains out?”
I nod.Yes, yes, I do.The chemistry between us is undeniable. She may not want to be my fuck buddy, but she wants me. I’ve caught her admiring me more times than I can count. It’s not like I don’t do the same, although my cheeks don’t turn a vibrant pink when I’m caught.
“What do I get if I miraculously manage to keep my hands to myself?”
I try not to let the shock show on my face. I did not think she would take the bait. My dick twitches in my pants. “I won’t complain about you interviewing me.”
“Deal.”
I don’t have time to respond before Ella wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me toward her. I have to bend to meet her lips. They’re softer than I imagined, and I’ve imagined them a lot. Her kiss is light and gentle. I run my tongue against the seam of her lips, silently begging for entrance. Sheparts them just enough for me to slide my tongue inside and taste her. Vanilla, just like her ice cream. Mine’s a goner, dropping onto the ground as I wrap my arms around her waist. I lower and lower my hands until I’m squeezing her arse. Bloody fuckin’ hell, it’s a great arse.
She explores my mouth tentatively with her tongue, growing more determined with each moment that passes. Fuck, I want more. I need more. The quiet moan she releases lets me know she wants more too. My hands grip her waist, pulling her against me. I don’t give a fuck if she can feel how hard I am. I want her to know how hard she makes me. Our tongues wrestle, trying to gain dominance over one another. My mind is in overdrive trying to focus on the feel of her. She bites down on my bottom lip, causing an animalistic growl to escape my throat.
The kiss is electric and delicious and over way too soon. Ella pulls back, staring at me with angelic purity.
“Sucks that you dropped your ice cream.” She laughs with a gleam in her eyes.
How the actual fuck does she still have hers in her hand? I’m frozen in place. That isnothow you kiss someone you don’t want to sleep with. That is a kiss that leaves someone breathless and overwhelmed and wanting more.
She continues to walk down the street as if nothing’s just happened. “You coming?”
I’d fucking like to be coming, but clearly that’s not going to happen.
SEVENTEEN
Ella
I’M grateful that Blake prefers to spend time in his suite alone before each Grand Prix. After spending most of the day signing hats and shirts, taking photos with fans, and answering questions from the media, all he wants is peace and quiet to get into the zone. Sometimes he watches tapes of previous races at the circuit to prep and sometimes he listens to music. He’ll even go crazy and watch a documentary from time to time. I don’t care what he’s doing before the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, as long as it’s away from me and my idiotic lust for his lips.
Nowhere in my contract does it specifically state “don’t make out with the subject of your work,” but I think it’s implied. Now I know why. Every time I see Blake, my stomach flutters at the memory of his lips pressed against mine. He hasn’t brought up what happened between us and I sure as hell am not reminding him about my momentary lapse in judgment. Especially when I’m the one who drew that line.
I usually hang out with Josie before the race, but today I spend some time with Theo. He has more than his fair share of stories about his early karting days with Blake. I interview Theo for an hour or so before he convinces me to play MarioKart. Video games are his pre-race ritual. Little does he know I grew up playing with my brother and Princess Peach is absolutely going to kick Bowser’s butt.
Theo frowns after I win the first game. “You low-key don’t suck at this, Goldy.”
“What a lovely, backhanded compliment, Walker.”
Theo snorts and nudges me with his elbow. He may be a World Champion in Formula 1, but I’m the virtual karting champion.
“Question,” he says, putting down his controller. “What’s the deal with you and Connor Brixton?”
I almost jump out of my skin at the question. “What?” I demand. “Why? Who wants to know?”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Goldy. Blake just asked me and Lucas if we knew anything about him.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Lucas said he’d met him once at some party in New York. Blake got all moody and … well, you know how he can get.”
