“Hello, yourself,” was all I could manage. My heart was thumping in my throat and I couldn’t breathe. We stood still, facing each other, for about a decade. Was she happy she came? Was she about to tell me it wouldn’t work? Was she about to elbow Other James out of the way, grab my race bike, and rocket out of here as fast as she could? I didn’t know until, finally, her face melted into a wide smile, mine mirroring hers exactly, and we dove into each other’s arms.
She leaped onto me, wrapping her legs around me. Holding her gorgeous body against mine again brought back vivid memories of the first time I was inside her. I held her tight, kissing her neck until she brought her face in front of mine, our lips about two inches apart. Our eyes locked. I stared into those beautiful green circles for a second, and it felt as if we understood each other. Our mouths finally met. Her lips were softer than I’d ever imagined, her breath as sweet as the rest of her. Her lips parted slightly, and my tongue caressed their velvet softness. My head started to spin from the pleasure of it, and responding with same kind of helpless need, she moaned with our mouths still pressed together.
I’d missed the feel of her, the smell of her, so much. I wanted her so badly, and I could feel blood rushing to my loins as we kissed. It was like the first time. It was the first time our mouths met, our tongues touched, and I just wanted to devour her right there. We broke our first kiss.
“Holy shit!” laughed Summer, as she pressed her forehead to mine. “I’m about ready to fuck you right here!”
“I’m flattered.” I smiled back. “But not in front of the boys.”
Ray and Other James pretended they weren’t listening as they fiddled with my broken bike. Summer saw it for the first time.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I reassured her. “Listen, are you hungry?” She nodded. “Okay, come with me. We should probably talk.”
***
There was a pretty decent French restaurant just down from the pit lane used to catering to high-level racers and team owners. I convinced Summer to get on the back of the little dirt bike we used to zip around the circuit. She was not enthusiastic because of her short skirt, but when I pointed out it was about a half-mile walk, she hopped on.
“I have about another hour before qualifications start,” I told her as we entered the building. The host showed us to a table overlooking the track, and I ordered a single malt for her and a sparkling water for me. “So…”
“So…” she agreed, and we both burst out laughing.
I took her hand across the table. “I was so pleased to see you,” I told her. “I was really worried you weren’t going to come.”
“Worried?” she asked, raising a beautifully sculpted eyebrow.
“Well, concerned,” I conceded.
“Listen, James,” she began, taking on a very straightforward tone. “I don’t commit. I’ve never been in a relationship longer than six months, and I’ve never lived with a man. That was just me. But…a few things have happened over the past couple of weeks to make me rethink my outlook.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” I said as the waiter brought over our drinks and a menu. I waited for him to leave us before continuing. “The lobster bisque and steak entrec?te are pretty good here, depending on how much you want.” Summer nodded and put aside the menu. I took a breath and summoned the courage to tell her what was worrying me. “I’ve never been one for commitment either. I don’t think I’ve ever had what could be described as a relationship.”
“Why not?”
“A couple of reasons,” I explained. “One, I was pretty sure they would want me to give up racing, which I’m not ready to do. Two, I’m never entirely sure if they are into me or my money, and I only have an expensive divorce to look forward to in six months’ time.”
“Come on.” Summer smiled. “You can’t be worth that much.”
“I can.” I smiled back. “Why do you think I didn’t want to tell you much about me when we first met?”
“I thought it was a turn on,” she said, just as our mustachioed waiter arrived to take the order. He gave a subtle huff of distaste. I guessed, even though we were in Argentina, that he must really be French. To my surprise, Summer ordered both the soup and the steak, indicating that she was ravenous. I was racing in an hour, so I just ordered a green salad.
“It was one hell of a turn on,” I agreed when we were alone again, “but I didn’t want you to know about me unless you decided you really liked me, regardless of my money. Now that you’re here and you wouldn’t even let me buy your ticket, I know you do.”
“Hey, don’t go jumping the gun there, buddy.” She smiled again, teasing me, before dropping her voice to a low whisper. “I like your dick. I haven’t actually made up my mind about the rest of you yet.”
Goddamn, this girl made me hot. I could feel my cock stiffening. Unfortunately, in my leathers, there was nowhere for it to go.
“Good enough,” I replied. I could feel her foot working my leg again. How did she get her boot off without me noticing?
“So,” she continued as though nothing was going on under the table, “how much are you worth, then?”
“Me personally? Or my family?”
She thought for a moment. “You.”
“About two billion dollars, give or take.”