Redeemed (Dirty Air #4)(48)

“Why?” Matteo takes a sip of his wine.

“He was ashamed to tell others how he lost me after I broke his heart.”

I force my laugh into a ragged cough.

“No freaking way! You broke his heart? Why?” Giovanni’s eyes threaten to pop out of their sockets.

“Back when I knew him, he was just a boy with a dream of racing one day. But fame changes people, and I was afraid.” Her lip wobbles.

Everyone becomes enthralled by her story, including myself. We hang on to each new piece of information she shares. I keep a mental tally of each question, with her story of us breaking up earning a total of eleven questions. That’s going to be a hard one to beat.

Chloe gloats like she’s on top of a podium, shooting me a taunting smile. She mouths beat that when her family isn’t looking.

Matteo excuses himself to use the restroom. Giovanni follows him, claiming he needs to go as well. It’s a fitting intermission for our dinner and a show.

I reach out toward her, grazing her bottom lip with my thumb. Her smile drops as her eyes widen.

There’s no reason to get close to her, but I can’t help it. And more importantly, I don’t want to. “Don’t plan your victory parade just yet.”

She rolls her eyes, but her breaths become shallower as my thumb rubs back and forth across her bottom lip. “I can’t see how you’ll beat eleven questions. You count grunting as a second language.”

I laugh, low and rough. “If you knew the old me, you’d take back that statement. I don’t like losing.”

Her eyes soften. “I don’t need to know the old you.”

“And why is that?” My thumb moves toward her cheek, stroking the soft skin.

None of this is fake now. Her reaction, my interest, the way both our bodies respond to each other’s touch. It’s all so fucking real, I can practically taste the attraction between us both.

“Because I find this version of you intoxicating enough.” Her eyes flutter shut as she leans into my touch.

“What if I said I really want to kiss you right now?”

“Then I’d tell you to take what you want before you lose the chance.”

Blood rushes through my body, and my dick twitches beneath my jeans. I press my lips to hers, and Chloe releases a breathy sigh.

Some kisses stoke a passion. Some kisses heal the soul. Kissing Chloe is a combination of two—the sweetest medicine that leads to a lifelong addiction.

I run my tongue across her bottom lip and get a taste of her favorite wine. Her body shudders, and her lips tremble beneath my onslaught. A yearning builds within me to pull her closer. To piece myself back together with her help.

The clapping of shoes against the marble floor has us pulling away from each other. I have a strong desire to pull her back, but our company stops me.

Chloe’s eyes bounce between my lips and my eyes. “That was…”

Real. Incredible. Fucking undeniable and if you friend-zone me again I swear to God I’ll kiss the word straight out of your vocabulary. “Only the beginning.” I brush my thumb across her lower lip one last time, the plumpness easily becoming my favorite distraction.

Matteo and Giovanni enter the dining room, stealing our attention away once again.

I turn away from Chloe despite the urge I have to steal her away and call it a night. “Chloe reminded me of a funny story while you both were in the restroom.”

“Oh, hell yes!” Giovanni claps his hands together.

“I’m not sure if you read anything in the papers about the time a desperate fan was escorted off the F1 property after they snuck into my suite to confess their love?”

Chloe’s laugh echoes off the walls, solidifying my choice. I like the way it sounds way too much.

“No! Wow. How long ago was this?” Matteo smiles.

One question down, eleven more to go.

I might have stepped away from the F1 podiums, but that doesn’t mean I stopped craving a win. And I’m ready to beat the competition into submission.





“We’re going to die. It’s official. God save us,” Chloe mumbles, looking up to the car’s roof. She does the sign of the cross incorrectly, and I laugh as I show her how it’s really done.

“Relax.” I scan our surroundings. The street is empty and flat—the perfect place to teach someone how to drive.

“When you won last night, I didn’t expect you to waste your win on this.”

“Well, I did say we needed to amend your issue of not knowing how to drive. That’s illegal in my house.” I rub the leather dashboard of the Jeep. I’m offering Chloe the sturdiest of my vehicles to learn how to drive.

“There’s three pedals. Why are there three pedals?” She moans.

The sound sends a rush straight to my cock. I take a deep breath, easing the ache that’s become familiar around Chloe. “Because automatic cars are for grandmas.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll own up to being a grandma because I barely go out anyway. I mean, I embroider as a hobby. I’m practically one year away from fostering cats and living the rest of my life attached to an oxygen tank.”

I offer her a blank expression, denying my urge to laugh.

She offers me the praying hands. “Please don’t make me do this. You’re no John Cusack, and this isn’t Say Anything.”