“I’m sure. This is for the best, Charlie,” I tell him.
We stand together in the airport terminal, far away from the bustle of baggage and team members scrambling for a seat on the plane. Team Ferrelli is headed to Italy for a little R and R before the London Grand Prix. But despite the fact that they’re shipping off to relax, the tension in the air is thick. Missing one race won’t kill Enzo’s point count, but it’s hardly something that anyone can be happy about. Right now, my brother and Team Ferrelli are both in first place while Harrison and McClain hold second. But those outcomes were forecasted from the beginning—it’s third place that has everyone in a tizzy.
After the Moscow wreck, Rafael Marques secured first place, moving ahead in points above both Sven Landers and Alexi Rostov. Marques is a relatively new driver himself, and no one had him pegged as a contender this year. But he’s quietly been racking up the points along the season so far. If anything goes wrong and Enzo or Harrison is forced out of another race, Marques might be able to unseat them for good.
“You don’t really think Marques will take the Luxembourg Grand Prix, do you?” I ask Charlie, thinking aloud.
“I don’t know, Bex,” Charlie says, “He’s a sneaky one. I barely even noticed him moving into third place. And he’s a decent driver too. Not the fastest, but an opportunist if I ever saw one.”
“And a disgusting, arrogant chauvinist,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Ah, she’s sweet talking me!” says a rich voice from behind us.
Charlie and I turn and spot Rafael Marques making his way across the terminal, flanked by teammates and admirers. I feel my face fold into a scowl at the sight of him. Marques has never said two words to me that didn’t make me want to punch him in the throat.
“What did I tell you about the Moscow race, eh?” Marques says, coming to stand before me and Charlie. “I took first after all. Wish you could have been there to share in the champagne.”
“I was a little busy making sure my brother wasn’t dead,” I drawl, “He’s doing fine, by the way. Thanks for your concern.”
“I knew he’d be fine,” Marques sniffs, “He caused the wreck, after all, he was in control of it. Damned foolish thing to do, if you ask me. And very peculiar, intentionally crashing into another driver for no reason at all. Don’t you find that strange, Siena?”
“What are you driving at, Marques?” I snap.
“Just that it’s curious,” he smiles, “Very curious. Anyway, we must be off. Have a few press appearances in Luxembourg lined up. Everyone wants to talk to the man who’s going to win this tournament out from under your brother, apparently.”
“Get a grip, Marques,” I say.
“Gladly,” he sneers, moving his hand mockingly toward my ass.
“Hey,” Charlie growls, knocking the driver’s hand away, “Watch your step, buddy.”
“I’m sorry. Who are you?” Marques asks Charlie, smiling condescendingly.
“I’m Charlie Spano. Son of Augustus Spano. Friend of Siena’s.”
“Awfully protective, for just a friend,” Marques sniffs, “Not like I give even the slightest shit. See you around, my darling.”
“God, I hope not,” I say to his retreating back.
“What an ass,” Charlie says, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry about him,” I say, “Just take care of my dad and Enzo for me while I’m in London, OK?”
“Of course.”
“And do your best to keep an eye on Bex as well,” I wink, “Think you can handle her?”
“I’m up for the challenge,” Charlie grins, “That’s about as much as I can promise you.”
“Did someone call for me?” Bex asks, bounding up beside us. Her arms are loaded with airplane snacks of every shape and form.
“Just wanted to say goodbye,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around the candy mountain she’s lugging around. “Have a good time in Italy.”
“Have a good time in London,” she says pointedly.
We can’t talk much about my decision to stay with Harrison while Charlie’s here. I made Bex promise not to breathe a word of my relationship with McClain’s top driver to Charlie. Even though it would be hard to imagine that he’s behind those illicit pictures at this point, you just never know. I don’t want to take any chances with Charlie liable to fly off the handle over my secret.
I give Charlie a quick hug and watch him make his way onto the tarmac with Bex. Just as they’re about to disappear from my sight, I watch as he cups her hand in his. The sweet gesture almost breaks my heart for wanting to be with my own man, as soon as humanly possible. All I need now is to say goodbye to Enzo, and then I can be on my way to London. I look around the terminal for him, hoping to catch his ear before he leaves. When my eyes finally alight on that brother of mine, I let my eyes roll mightily. He’s standing across the long terminal from me, deep in conversation with a certain voluptuous blonde.
“Yo! Enzo!” I shout across the lofty space.
My brother manages to rip his eyes away from Shelby, McClain’s resident social media whiz. He gives me a quick wave and turns back to his lady friend, undeterred. I spot a few other McClain team members milling about—their jet must be leaving from here as well. I want to make sure to catch a glimpse of Harrison setting off. If we’re both seen at the airport this morning, people will be less likely to imagine that we’ve headed off to be together.
I look on in disgust as Enzo pulls Shelby into an embrace. They kiss as passionately as any long lost lovers in the movies. What the hell is this girl up to? I still haven’t dismissed that she too, might be responsible for my blackmail after all. She’s got no business in my brother’s bed, that much is for sure. Enzo finally detaches himself from a tearful Shelby and makes his way over to me.
“You’re going to see each other in two weeks,” I remind him, “Do we all really need to watch your gross PDA?”
“Are you trying to lecture me on decorum, little sister?” Enzo snaps.
“Don’t throw that in my face every time I speak,” I tell him.
“Sorry,” Enzo says, “It’s just awfully ironic, I guess.”
“Will you take care of Dad for me?” I ask, ignoring his dig.
“Sure,” Enzo says, “At least one of us will be there for him in his hour of need.”
“I’ve got work to do. Dad understands, and if anything happens I can be there in a quick plane ride.”
“Oh please,” Enzo spits, “We both know why you’re going to London, Siena. It’s to spend time playing nurse with that cocky pretty boy of yours.”
“Keep your voice down,” I warn.
“Oh, I will,” Enzo says, “I’m ashamed of you for being with him. I wouldn’t want anyone else to know. So please, for the love of god, try and be discreet while you sleep with the enemy. You owe all of us that much, especially Dad.”
“Why are you being so cruel about this?” I ask him, “Why can’t you at least try and see things from my point of view?”
“Because you betrayed me, Siena,” Enzo says, “We’ve always been best friends. Partners in crime. And you kept this from me.”
“Are you just upset that there’s another man in my life? Someone else to be my best friend?” I ask.
“Of course not,” Enzo snaps, “I’m just embarrassed for you, Siena. You could do so much better than that dumb jock.”
“One day, if you give him a chance, I think you might really grow to like Harrison,” I say to Enzo.
“That, my dear sister, is positively delusional,” Enzo sighs, “But I can’t stop you from throwing yourself at him, so...be careful. Don’t do anything stupider than you’ve already done.”
“Goodbye to you too,” I say, as Dad appears across the terminal.
We go to him, each taking an arm. He shakes us off like gnats.
“Don’t treat me like a little old lady,” he grumbles.
“Sorry, Dad,” we say in unison.
“Will you at least swing by
the house once Enzo’s back in the tournament?” Dad asks me, “Since I won’t be tagging along on the trail, I mean.”
“Of course, Daddy,” I say, wrapping my arms around him. I'm alarmed to see how much smaller he’s already become. “I love you.”
“Come on, plane’s waiting,” Enzo says, carting my dad away from me. I watch the pair of them make their way outside to the jet and climb on board.
And that’s when I spot Harrison.
He’s strolling across the lobby toward his own jet, entourage in tow. Andy and Cora follow along behind him while Shelby and Sara chat animatedly to each other off to the side. As they head off onto the runway, Harrison flicks his eyes in my direction. Those baby blue beacons tell me that we’re all clear, that it’s time for me to go, too. I turn on my heel and march out into the bright daylight. There’s a train with my name on it—a train that’s going to take me to London. It’ll be a long trip, two days at least, but what’s waiting on the other side will be more than worth it, that’s for sure.
Chapter Fourteen
Lovers In London
I’ve always been fond of train rides. As a kid, when we’d spend time in Italy, I loved nothing more than visiting our neighboring towns and cities by train. I’d plant my little hands on the glass, my nose practically pressed up to the window, and watch as the country rolled along before me. Italy is a beautiful place, the sight of which I’d know in a heartbeat. However, the trip from Moscow to London is more exciting than any other trip I’ve taken. The landscape is unfamiliar and new, I’m all alone, and I have a gorgeous man waiting for me once I arrive. The tension of wanting to be with Harrison once more, not to mention the scintillating daydreams that flow into my mind in his absence, is almost too much to be borne. I can’t help it. It’s just what he does to me.
When we finally arrive in London, I all but skip off the train. In a heartbeat, I’ve hailed myself a black cab and am cruising through the winding streets. Having spent so much time in New York, now being in a city that’s not built on a grid is overwhelming to me. But despite Enzo’s warnings, London is far from the foggy, drab mess he described. The city is sunny and staggering beautiful, with the new and the old blending together to create something entirely unique to behold. The cab whisks me along to Kensington, the neighborhood Harrison calls home. My heart is hammering as we draw up to the curb before an incredible town house.
“Here we are, Miss,” the cabby chirps, “Have someone waiting for you?”
“Oh yes,” I tell him, passing what is probably way too much money through the window, “Do I ever.”
I step out onto the sidewalk as my cab driver grabs my bags. On wobbly knees, I make my way up the polished staircase and pause before the thick oaken door. I’ve just raised my hand to rap on the door when it swings open before me and Harrison Davies is revealed.
“There you are,” he says, his voice rasping and lusty, “Get in here, you gorgeous thing.”
I happily oblige, falling over the threshold of the town house and straight into Harrison’s waiting arms. He stiffens almost imperceptibly as I squeeze onto him.
“Sorry, sorry,” I splutter, “Still recovering, right?”
“Still recovering, to be sure, but nothing to be sorry about,” he says, pulling me into the townhouse and closing the door snugly behind me.
I let my eyes trail all along his tall, perfectly-balanced body. His dark wash blue jeans and charcoal gray tee shirt are the epitome of simple stylish. I don’t know how he manages to look so good in the least assuming clothes imaginable, but hey—he’s quite a special guy. And when I finally lift my eyes back to his, I see right quick that he’s preoccupied with my shape, too.
“How can two days feel so long?” I ask, running my hands through his dark blonde hair.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he says, pulling me into a long embrace, “Did you get here OK? Did anyone see you?”
“Not that I know of,” I say, “But I’m almost beyond caring at this point. All that matters is that we’re finally here, together...In your mansion. Thanks for the heads up.”
“It is not a mansion,” Harrison insists, looking around.
“Palace, then?” I ask, “Estate, maybe?”
“Whatever it is, it’s yours for the next two weeks,” he tells me, “Or however long you’d like it.”
I look around the pristine, polished home of Harrison Davies. With his bad boy persona, I’d expected something far less...put together, that’s for sure. I wasn’t hoping for stripper poles and coke residue, but this place is downright classy. The decor is sleek and minimal, which is a wonderful contrast to the home’s elegant architecture. It’s funny, but this is the sort of place I always pictured myself ending up. Not to be presumptuous or anything...
“You must be wiped,” Harrison says, looking down into my admittedly tired eyes.
“You’re the one recovering from a car wreck,” I remind him.
“I guess we could both stand to relax a little,” he smiles, “But I think I have an idea.”
He grabs my hand in his broad, strong mitt and leads me across the foyer, up the beautiful staircase. My lungs have to work overtime to keep up with my excited anticipation at scaling the steps to Harrison’s second story.
“I still can’t really believe I’m here,” I laugh, as we climb the stairs. “If you had told me when we met in Barcelona...”
“I know,” Harrison says, looking back at me over his shoulder, “It’s completely mad. But that’s what you do to me, Siena. You make me a mad man.”
I pause on the stairs, tugging him back down to me. “If this is madness, I don’t mind too much,” I tell him, my voice low.
In an instant, Harrison’s shifted me toward the staircase wall. My back is pressed up against the ivory surface, and his beautiful eyes are hard on mine. He takes a step toward me, pinning me to the wall with his powerful hips. I plant my foot on the stair above us, letting him press in even closer toward me.
“What happened to relaxation?” I ask, draping my arms over Harrison’s broad shoulders.
“It’s overrated,” he tells me, lowering his lips to my neck, “God, I’ve missed the taste of you. The sounds you make. I’ve missed feeling you beneath me, Siena. I’ve just missed having you here.”
“I’m here now,” I say breathlessly, letting my fingers dig into his back just a bit.
I’m glad that I chose to wear a simple pair of skinny jeans and white tank today. There is so little separating my body from Harrison’s. And here, in his home, we don’t have to worry. We don’t have to make excuses or rush back to our own hotels. It’s just me and him for however long we please. The thought is dizzying.
“Here’s what I think,” Harrison says, kissing along my collarbone as he leans into me, “I think that we shouldn’t do anything but fuck for the next week.”
“I can get down with that,” I laugh, closing my eyes as I feel Harrison’s tongue run along the neckline of my shirt. I want to feel that tongue everywhere again.
Harrison plants his hands on the wall above my shoulders, pressing his body up against mine. I can feel how hard he’s already gotten, feel him growing against my thigh with every passing moment.
“So tell me,” I breathe, grinding my hips against his stiffening member, “How many women have you brought back to this place?”
“Honestly?” Harrison asks.
“Honestly,” I say.
He brings his mouth to my ear, closing his teeth down around my earlobe. “Honestly...” he begins, “You’re the first woman who’s ever been inside of this house. Apart from my mother and the occasional cleaning lady that is.”
“Yeah, right,” I say, shoving him playfully away.
“I mean it,” Harrison insists, catching my wrists and pinning them over my head, “I’m a motel, bar bathroom sort of lover, Siena. Or at least I was until a certain someone wandered along.”
“You mean you’ve never...anywhere in here?” I ask, looking aroun
d with wonder.
“That’s right,” Harrison says, running his hands down along the sides of my body.
“Well then,” I say, taking his stubbly jaw in my hands, “We have a lot of surfaces to cover, don’t we now?”
With a grin, Harrison scoops me up and plants me right there on the stairs. My mouth finds his as he kneels before me. Our tongues seek each other fervidly, glancing and gliding and entangling. I kick off my kitten heels and spread my legs, letting Harrison’s hands move down along my thighs. I lean back on the stairs, my hands whipping my tank up over my head. Harrison tears off his tee shirt and crawls up to me. The feel of his bare abs against my torso is warm, familiar...and so divine I could scream.
He kisses me deeply, earnestly, like he’s making up for lost time. I arch my back and unclasp my own bra, tossing it away over the railing. Harrison rips himself away from his kiss and lets his eyes take in the sight of me, sprawled topless on the stairs before him. It’s too much for the man to handle. He cups my ass in his strong hands and pulls me toward him, popping open the button of my jeans with one flick of the wrist.
Harrison slides my jeans and panties down my legs, and all at once I’m naked before him. I pull myself up to sitting on the smooth wooden staircase, shuddering at the illicit feel of letting him see me here. As many times as we’ve had each other, each moment with Harrison still feels new. I can feel my clit throbbing, aching for want of him as he whips open his belt and discards his jeans and briefs.
“God, baby...” I whisper, my eyes latched onto the staggering length of him, “How do I ever even manage to take you?”
“I have my ways,” he grins, kneeling on the steps before me.
I cry out as he lowers his mouth to my wet slit in one quick motion. My mind spins as I feel his tongue part my pink flesh, licking along the whole of me.
“Oh...Harrison...,” I gasp.
He presses my knees back, opening me to him even more. I groan as his lips close around my hard clit, sucking at the tight little bundle and sending ripples of sensation through my entire body. I buck my hips against his masterful mouth, wanting nothing but to feel as much of him as I can.
Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) Page 15