Page 60 of Burn

“Oh, there’s Stephen.” Rob looks toward the door, at the team’s manager of brand partnerships. “I’ve got to have a word with him. Max, congratulations again. And Lily, we’ll be in touch.”

I give a little finger wave and Max slaps him on the shoulder, all gruff and macho like men in this sport sometimes do.

Now that Max and I are alone at the table, I shift away from him, acutely aware that people might be watching.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” he says in a low voice. “That dress. It does something to me.”

Clearing my throat, I try to will away the hum of desire coursing through my veins. How is it possible that I’m hornier for him now than when I was younger? I can barely glance for too long at him, because he’s looking adorably hot in a deep-blue team T-shirt and black jeans.

We’re a respectable distance apart, but it’s as if our hookup in his dressing room crackles and sparks in the air between us. It’s been on my mind for hours—I somehow still can’t get his scent off me, even after a shower—and it’s obvious from his intense gaze that he’s thinking of it too.

“How do you feel? Any post-race exhaustion?” I ask. It’s almost a tease, asking this question.

“Hmm.” He ponders, staring into his drink, then looks into my eyes. “I feel unbalanced.”

“Unbalanced?” This answer is a bit of a surprise. I repeat the word. “Why?”

A playful smirk spreads on his face. “I feel unfulfilled when I’m, ah, satisfied, and others aren’t. It doesn’t seem fair, and I’d like to make things right. Balance is essential, Lily. It feels like the cosmic order is out of whack. I need to fix this tonight.”

It dawns on me that he’s talking about us earlier, and how he’d orgasmed and I hadn’t. My face grows hot, and other parts too. I look around at the people and the party. It’s in full swing, and it’s likely no one will miss us or notice that we’re both gone. Drivers leave parties early all the time, especially the ones right after races.

“I’ll meet you in the room,” I murmur.

He responds with a single nod, the corners of his lips turning up. I say my congratulations and good-byes to the rest of the team, apologizing for turning in early. I explain that I’m feeling a bit exhausted from the excitement of the day, then weave through the party to the elevator, which is also crowded.

A few people recognize me, saying they’re thrilled about the day’s results. Another couple, in town from London for the race, ask about my father.

“He’s doing so much better, especially after today.” I flash a genuine smile, feeling feverish and a bit out of control. Probably I look so eager and manic about meeting Max in a few minutes that it’s obvious on my face.

“Max looked amazing out there today. He is so proficient,” the man from London says, and his wife agrees with a little squeal.

Now, I’m probably as red as an overripe tomato. “That’s a good word for him.”

The couple gets out on the floor before mine, and once I’m alone, I lean against the back wall, unsteady and flying high from what I’m about to do.

Max is so proficient.

This makes me giggle aloud as I exit the elevator and walk the few paces to my suite door.

Max is proficient, all right. Because I taught him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

LILY

Inside the suite I slip off my shoes, rinse my mouth out with mouthwash, and brush my hair. Or maybe I should keep the shoes on. They’re about four inches high. Supersexy. Nah, my feet feel much better without them.

It’s been all of five minutes and there’s a soft knock at the door.

I make a mad sprint to the door and fling it open. Max tumbles in, reaching for me. We’re both laughing as we kiss. When our teeth clash, we break apart, grinning.

“What are you laughing about?” I say while he gently bites my chin.

“I’m happy. That’s all. Happier than I’ve been in a long time. Why are you laughing?”

I wrap my arms around him and we hug tight. “Someone in the elevator called you proficient.”

He pulls back and looks at me with a mock shocked face. “I am very proficient on the track.”