“That’s good,” I said in a hushed tone. “You’ve got it. Now just drive it home.”
Together our hands slowly brought the gun forward onto the nut, spinning it and then pulling away.
“Just like that. That’s how you spin a nut,” I said.
“And now drive forward again,” I said. “Imagining the new tire is now in place.”
Together we rocked forward again and imitated locking in the new tire.
“Perfect,” I said. “You got it. Maybe a couple more dry humps.” Shit! I meant dry runs. Damn, my subconscious was in control. Sliding forward and back like that with the back of her body pressed against the front of mine was all it took to get me to slip. It was about as close to a dry hump as you can get in a Formula One garage.
“Okay,” she said, turning to catch my gaze in hers as she smiled. Was she responding to the positive encouragement or my Freudian slip? There was only one way to find out.
CHAPTER 6
Erica
I knew I could do the job, but the way Gage gave me encouragement and guided me through it sent my confidence sky high. It made me feel so good that he not only had my back, but a man such as him would take time to individually walk me through exactly what needed done. And what needed done was me. I could feel his growing erection grinding into my back side as he guided me forward and back as I maneuvered that big, powerful phallic object forward as his huge phallus pressed against my ass.
As we moved I could sense the area where his thick shaft ended and the head of his prick began. The head of his dick that I imagined sucking on like a lollipop on the French Rivera boardwalk which was mere steps away at the time, and just above the harbor where I was currently standing.
“Welcome aboard Lady Luck,” he said, as he took my hand and brought me aboard his yacht.
He had invited me to join him this afternoon as he relaxed the day before qualifying began. He said he always did this the “day before the storm” to release pent up energy.
The only storm that was forecast today was the one currently brewing in my swimsuit and I was more than willing to relieve him of any pent up energy he was feeling.
He introduced me to his crew. He had given most of them the day off to enjoy a trip to St. Tropez. He had just retained the minimum we would need to enjoy our own special day, as he referred to it.
I’d never been aboard as much as a fishing boat before and here I was on a yacht in the Mediterranean. As we slowly left the harbor, monitoring our wake, I noticed something strange off in the distance.
“Is he going to…?”
“Yep,” Gage said, right as the helicopter landed on a yacht just offshore.
“How is that even possible?” I asked.
“When you have enough money, and you treat people well, just about anything is possible.”
I couldn’t even say he was treating me well. The word well wouldn’t even come close to doing it justice.
And then, almost as if he was reading my thoughts, a server arrived just in front of me. “Champagne, madame?”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the flute.
“Cheers,” Gage said, taking a flute of his own. “To having you on the team.”
We clinked our glasses and I took a sip of the bubbly drink. I had never had champagne before, but I quickly realized what all the fuss was about. It was delicious and practically made for such an adventure as the one I was on. Twenty-four hours ago I was planning how I was going to budget my very limited cash in order to do some sightseeing in Nice, and now here I was drinking champagne on a yacht in the Mediterranean with my ultimate dream guy. There was a slight breeze against my skin as my nose detected the light smell of the sea in between the scents of the champagne and hors d’oeuvres. I was living the good life today, but for how much longer was certainly up in the air.
All I knew was I had what I wanted in front of me, and if the confidence Gage had instilled in me so far was any indication of how he operated then I sure as hell was going to go for exactly what I wanted.
“I love your boat.”
“Thank you.”
“I was just wondering, is it possible to swim from the boat?” The question would have sounded ridiculous to me an hour ago, but now that we were aboard it made complete sense. We were well above sea level, and although I knew there weren’t sharks or anything like that out here, I wasn’t sure if you could just drop anchor and jump off the side or if there was a more detailed process.
“It is, certainly,” he said. “Are you interested in taking a dip?”
“I would like that, yes,” I said, as I noticed him take a very quick, but thorough look over my body. I wanted him to picture me in a swimsuit and my intentions must have worked. I was curious how he would respond, as I didn’t have the supermodelesque type figure he was used to. I was a real woman with real curves. I had to eat a lot to keep up my energy levels for strength training. A lot of that weight found its way to my backside, hips and thighs. A lot of it was muscle, but not all of it.
Gage, on the other hand was sculpted. He couldn’t get too big, being that he had to fit into that tiny race car and also that every fraction of a pound he added changed the way the car handled and could potentially decrease his speed, but the weight he did have was perfectly placed like one of Michelangelo’s chiseled sculptures at the Louvre.
I took in a view of him, not hiding my intentions. Not only was he fit, firm, and had a beautiful face, but he already had a tan and it was only the last week of May. He was the type of guy who used the seasons as verbs. “I summer in the Mediterranean,” or, “I winter in Cape Town,” I could imagine him saying. He certainly had the finances to support such a lifestyle, but did he plan on always being the ultimate jet setting playboy?
“My dad mentioned you were at the casino last night.”
“I was,” he said.
“Was luck on your side?”
“I’ve been very fortunate that luck seems to have a way of being on my side often,” he said before pausing to take a drink. “And sometimes luck is even at my side.”
I noticed he was looking at me with a certain intensity, but I still wanted to hear it from him. “Are you referring to the name of the boat?”
He slid his hand along the railing of the deck making me wish he would glide his hands across my skin the same way. “Not at the moment,” he said, never taking his eyes from mine.
“And you’ve been lucky with women,” I said. “At least that’s what the newspapers would lead one to believe.”
“Funny that they still call themselves newspapers, when they seem to enjoy discussing things that hardly qualify as news.”
“I guess it’s a product of our culture these days.”
“A culture I’ve been very slow, or just downright unwilling, to adapt.”
“I would think driving these cars would put you on the edge of technology.”
“It puts my team there, certainly, but as for me…no. Even with all the buttons, and communications and gadgets and all that mumbo jumbo, I’m still old school. I go off my instincts. I trust my gut. I follow my feelings.”
“And what are you feeling right now?”
He said nothing.
“Sorry, I overstepped my bounds,” I said.
“I’m feeling very conflicted,” he said. “And curious.”
Game on. “In what way?”
“In a way where you desire something that you know you shouldn’t.”
“Why shouldn’t we desire what our gut tells us? That is how you drive, after all. And that way of driving has led to a lot of success in your life.”
“It’s also led to a lot of spectacular crashes. And walking away from a crash is the hardest thing to do, especially at my age.”
“Have you had to walk away from a…shall we say, crash, with a woman before?”
“Never.”
“You answered that very quickly.”
“The same way I handle my relationships, or lack there of
.”
“Is that by design?”
“Very careful design. I have been singularly focused my entire life on racing, and I make no excuses for that. I may have my dalliances from time to time, but that’s all they are. My team, and I, need my full attention on my profession.”
“Do you think it will always be that way? I mean you can’t race forever, right?”
“That’s certainly what the papers seem to think. They’re more interested in writing me off than writing me up these days. It used to be all about my personal life, which I didn’t like, but was able to handle. Now they seem interested in nothing more than kicking dirt in the grave they’ve prematurely dug for me.”
“How many years do you think you have left?”
“Truth be told, I should have retired after last season. I wanted to come back to Formula One for one last go, to show them I’ve still got the fire…and more importantly to prove it to myself.”
“You sound pretty motivated.”
“Less and less. I have to create battles for myself these days. Racing is all I’ve ever known. It’s time to move on to the next chapter in my life.”
I couldn’t believe I was hearing these words from Gage Hazard. He was always so sure of himself, and he was certainly sure of himself now…his body language was firm and erect yet casually elegant at the same time. It wasn’t that I was surprised of his confidence, just that I was surprised of what he was confident of.
“How do you picture the next chapter being written?”
“Until recently I couldn’t picture it.”
“Why is that?”
“Because the picture wasn’t complete. I needed to see the other half before I could realize how the future will look.”
“And what lead you, recently, to see that complete picture?”
“A series of chance events.”
“Just like at the Casino de Monte-Carlo.”
“Not just like those at the Casino de Monte-Carlo, at the Casino de Monte-Carlo.”
What a fool I was. He had been referring to the beautiful Italian movie star the entire time, not me.
CHAPTER 7
Erica
I stepped out onto the balcony at the Monte-Carlo Bay & Resort and looked out over the Mediterranean. It was the most breathtaking view I had ever seen, next to Gage. And that was my exact wish, that Gage was next to me now, but he wasn’t. Gage and the other drivers had a meet and greet with the wealthy and elite from Monaco and across the world tonight. They’d all be joining us at the pool fifteen minutes from now.
I looked back to make sure I was alone, before setting my drink down on the table. I opened my clutch half way and pulled out my phone. I couldn’t resist…I opened the photo gallery and scrolled through the pictures. There were pictures of Gage winning races over the years interspersed with a few of him and my dad and of course numerous other snaps over the years. I hadn’t went totally crazy yet and made him his own folder, nor would that be a good idea now. I counted a total of seventeen pictures of him, but there was one glaring omission in each of them…me.
I promised myself I wouldn’t be a sourpuss and would get a picture with him, win or lose, to remember this weekend. Although Gage gave me a lot of confidence regarding my abilities as a pit crew member, he hadn’t given me so much confidence in my ability to sway the only man I wanted.
I didn’t want to be a distraction, but I also didn’t want to wallow in my self-inflicted pity. There was only one thing to do and that was to turn up the heat and see how he responded.
I arrived at the pool just in time to see the drivers filing in. This event would be dressy, but more casual in conversation. It was closed to the public so the drivers could let down their hair a little, although they had to be smart with qualifying starting tomorrow.
Word had already spread that Gage had “a chick” on his team. Apparently there were even bets going around about how I was going to perform…or more accurately how I wasn’t going to.
With people starting to talk about me, I knew now was my best chance. I grabbed a drink and stood at the bar. Maybe I pushed my tits out a little too far and maybe I stood with my weight on one leg so my big, round booty curved right in the direction where the drivers were standing. Just maybe.
Sergio Valentino was the first to take the bait. He was a half Spanish half Italian hunk that would have been the ultimate prize for most women, and a man who had a reputation as long as Gage’s, but most importantly had had many fierce battles with Gage over the years.
“What 'cha 'drinkin’?” he asked.
No wonder he was so good with the ladies. Perfect colloquial English with a hint of European flair.
“Grey goose and cranberry,” I said.
“Did you choose those colors by chance, or did they choose you?”
That was his pick-up line? Sure, we both knew the color of my drink matched the color of his car, but I expected something better…then again it was certainly original.
“It was a split second decision,” I said. “Just instinctive, but it seems it chose me.”
“Are you sure it was not fate that chose you?”
Yuck! And what was even worse was I saw Gage out of the corner of my eye. The minute he entered the socializing area he was quickly greeted with a bevy of beauties, the most conspicuous being Miss Italy. How was I supposed to compete with that?
Mr. Valentino continued spreading it on thick for the next few minutes before casually mentioning that he had a room booked on the top floor of the very hotel where we stood.
I casually mentioned that the night was young and if fate, his word not mine, led us in that direction then so be it, but I had no intention of seeing that happen. Judging by the fact that he was working a new girl twenty seconds later I doubt he’d even remember our conversation fifteen minutes from now.
But who did seem to remember me was Gage. He stepped towards the bar and the sea of girls parted before quickly falling in line next to and behind him, vying for attention. I was glad not to be one of them, although jealous at the same time that they were grabbing his arms. They were touching him and I felt a possessive streak shoot through me. Hands off bitches. He will be mine.
“Enjoying your evening?”
“Yes, thank you for inviting me.”
“My pleasure,” he said, before taking a water from the bartender. “I see you’re making friends.”
I did a little happy dance inside. It had worked.
“He just came by for a brief hello.”
“You do know he’s one of my fiercest competitors.”
“I do, but this time I think fate is on your side.”
Gage tipped the water bottle back without taking his eyes off mine.
“It doesn’t seem that way to me…yet,” he said.
“I would say so. You have a good car, a good team, and I noticed you had some very lovely company of your own.”
“Just a brief hello from some old friends.”
A few of the girls huffed and puffed at the comments, trying to step in-between Gage and I. Gage gracefully offered me his arm. I didn’t dare break eye contact as I switched the drink to my other hand and wrapped my arm in his.
“Shall we?” he said as he escorted me away from the bar much to the dismay of the other women.
“What about Miss Italy?” I asked.
“We’re in France,” he said.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. She’s a nice woman, but I told her that it’s better if we keep our relationship strictly professional.”
“But on the boat today, I thought…”
“You were half right.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, noticing all the girls making eyes at Gage each time we passed a new group.
“You were right about my thoughts, but it’s a different girl I have in mind. A very different, unique, and special girl.”
CHAPTER 8
Gage
I t took everything I had not to touch her
in front of everyone downstairs by the pool. I knew the elevators also had eyes so I had to restrain myself until we entered my room, but once we did I was free to be me.
Driven: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants #12) Page 3