“How’s Leandro doing?” I nod toward the garage, going for a subject change.
A big smile spreads over his face. “He’s starting first tomorrow.”
A genuine smile briefly pushes up through my fake one. “That’s great news.”
“He’s gonna win tomorrow, no doubt.”
“He sure is.”
“You coming back in? He’ll be back in the garage soon.”
“I’m coming now.” I push off the wall, trying to shake off the fear weighing heavily on my shoulders.
INDIA HAS BEEN DISTRACTED FOR DAYS. She was fine before qualifying, but since then, there has been a distance with her. She seems preoccupied.
Even when we make love, it’s like a part of her isn’t even there with me, and I don’t like it. I really don’t like it.
I was supposed to be heading straight to Italy with the team after leaving Budapest, but I changed my plans and flew back to London with India. I wasn’t going to leave her while she was like this. I have only got a few days before I have to fly out to Italy, and I intend on finding out what the hell is going on with her before then.
We got home yesterday, and she went into work today. Didn’t meet me for lunch. She made up some bullshit excuse about being too busy.
This is the first time I’m seeing her since we returned, and we are at her place right now. Jett is upstairs, Kit’s out on a date, and India and I are watching a movie together, but once again, I might as well be sitting here alone.
Well, I have her here with me now, and I am going nowhere until she tells me what is going on with her.
“Are you going to tell me anytime soon? Or do I just have to start fucking guessing?” My words come out a little harsher than intended.
She slides her eyes to mine. There’s a flare of anger in them. “Tell you what?”
I pick up the remote control and turn off the TV. “Tell me what it is that is bothering you.”
Her expression clears. “Nothing is bothering me.”
For fuck’s sake!
“I won the Belgium Prix on Sunday.”
She gives me a look of confusion. “I know. I was there.”
“Physically, yes. Mentally, no. You checked out on me the day before. Jesus, India, your lack of enthusiasm at my win after the first race you have been to since we got together—so it was pretty fucking important to me to have you there to witness it—and all I got was a congratulations and a pat on the shoulder.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry I didn’t give the required amount of attention!” she bites. “What did you want me to do? Stick my tongue down your throat. Strip my clothes off and screw you right there and then? I’m sorry, but that would have been inappropriate—you know, with my kid and the rest of the racing population being there!”
“Are you yelling at me?” I say to her.
Seriously, there’s something wrong with me because I get majorly turned on when she gets mad. Seeing her all fired up has my cock as hard as nails. Well, pretty much anything she does has my cock hard, but her anger is a definite aphrodisiac to me.
“Bloody well sounds like it, doesn’t it?” Her brow is all puckered into a frown.
She looks hot as fuck.
“I really want to fuck you right now,” I tell her in all seriousness.
Her eyes swing my way, wide and blazing. “Are you being serious?”
“I never kid about fucking you.”
“Jesus! You’re really pissing me off,” she huffs.
She makes to get up from the sofa, but I catch her arm, stopping her, and I pull her onto me. She makes a sound of protest but doesn’t actually try to get up.
“And you’re really turning me on,” I say to her.
Pausing she stares down at me. “I’m really mad at you right now, Leandro,” she grumbles, her voice less angry than before.
“Yes, well, I’m kind of mad at you, too, India. But I’m still hot as fuck for you.” I slide my hands to her ass giving it a squeeze.
She narrows her eyes at me. “We’re not having sex.”
“Not right now we aren’t, but as soon as Jett is asleep, I’m tying you to your bed and fucking the hell out of you.”
She shudders beneath my touch. I love that she can’t resist me, just like I can’t resist her.
“And if I have to torture the truth out of you by delaying your orgasm, then I will. But I would much rather you tell me what it is that’s bothering you, so we can fix it, and I can spend my time in bed giving you multiple orgasms.”
Her head drops to my shoulder, and she lets out a sad sounding sigh. It sets me on edge.
“Talk to me, babe.”
She lifts her eyes to mine. I see fear move through them, and then her eyes fill with tears.
I sit up straighter, taking her face in my hands. “Jesus, India, you’re really starting to scare me.”
Her eyes flick in the direction of the closed living room door and then back to me. She exhales, then, begins talking in a quiet voice, “Paul, Jett’s father, was released from prison today. While you were on the track on Saturday, I got a call on Saturday from Russell, the defense attorney who tried the case against Paul. The case I was a key witness for. The reason he went to prison.”
“You are not the reason that motherfucker went to prison. He is the reason.”
“Paul blamed me for him going to prison.”
“India, he went to prison because he’s a pedophile. He was having sex with teenage girls. He got you pregnant while you were still a teenager, for fuck’s sake.”