《Gaining Traction | Formula 1》Chapter 41
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A>"Guys, I need you to give me something. There is zero grip in turns 5 and 6."
K>"Just need to bring the tires up to temps."
A>"I know that, but the track is too cold."
K>"We'll look into it, flying lap starts at the line."
I huffed, pressing the confirm button.
It was cloudy, rainy, and cold. I could feel the rear of the car sliding around behind me. I could barely keep the car on track.
Just as I got back on the throttle out of the braking zone of turn 5, I lost control.
The rear of the car spun out, nearly sending me sliding backwards into the barriers.
K>"Everything okay?"
A>"Yeah. Fucked my lap though."
K>"Not an issue, we have time."
As it turns out, we did have time. But I just didn't have the pace.
"Fucking hell," I muttered, tossing my gloves onto the nose of the car.
I pulled myself out of the cockpit because I wouldn't be driving in Q3.
I was starting P15 for the race tomorrow.
"Sorry about that," Ivan grimaced, patting my shoulder.
I shook my head in response, my mood immediately turned sour.
My eyes met Dakota's as she removed her headset, swiveling in her stool to face me.
"Where did Lando finish?"
"He's P7 for now," she replied quietly, fiddling with the pen in her hand.
"Fuck," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "How am I that far off the pace?"
"Track conditions aren't ideal, don't sweat it," she said, glancing to the pitlane as Lando's car roared past.
I focused my attention on Dakota.
Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, which seemed to be her preferred hairstyle for a race weekend.
She seemed tired, dark circles creating shadows under her eyes.
The clicking of her pen drew my attention to her hands. Her nails were usually neatly done, either painted with a nude color, or completely bare. Now they were short, as if she had been anxiously biting them.
I frowned, scrutinizing her appearance even more.
Dakota and I had been in contact over the 2 week gap between race weekends. She had convinced me that everything was okay, but now I was beginning to doubt that.
I jumped when I felt someone tapn my shoulder.
"Camera's on you. Stop staring at her," Aaron said quietly, his mask covering his lips. I quickly averted my gaze to focus on the mechanics checking my car. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a cameraman training his camera on me before panning out to the cars on track.
"We can do an engine change," Dakota spoke up, dragging my gaze back to her.
"Won't I take a penalty for that?"
"Yeah, but we only have 7 races left on the calendar. Changing your combustion engine now will be perfect."
"It's a 5 place grid penalty. We've already changed 3 engines."
"You'll start P20. We'll try to do damage limitation."
"What do you think?" I asked after a moment of silence.
"I think we should. Ivan came up with the idea, but it's a solid gamble."
I thought about it for a few moments before nodding.
"Let's do it."
"Ivan! Get a new internal combustion engine on this bad boy. We've got a recovery drive tomorrow."
---------------------------------
And boy what a recovery drive it was.
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The Turkish Grand Prix was not a merciful race. Alessandro finished P13.
The weather was shit, even worse than it had been during qualifying.
Just when his season was starting to look up, everything came crashing down.
Despite a new engine, the problem with the car was ever prevalent. In fact, it seemed even worse than before.
"Hey, it's just one weekend. We'll bounce back next race," Zak said, patting the Italian's shoulder.
Alessandro nodded, desperate to get out of the paddock.
There was another two week break before the much anticipated United States Grand Prix.
"Where's Dakota?" Lando asked, popping his head into Alessandro's drivers room.
"Dunno," he shrugged, grabbing his phone and slipping his sunglasses on.
It was cloudy out, but he didn't give a fuck.
"She seems really out of it," the Brit continued, trailing after him as he hurried out of the McLaren hospitality.
"Hm, she's probably just tired."
"Are you sure? Have you talked to her?"
"Yeah, she seemed fine to me."
"But did y- Alessandro, slow down."
"I have places to be," he hot back, not slowing down.
"Alessandro!" he called after the driver.
"What?" he snapped, spinning around to look at him.
"What's gotten in to you?" Lando frowned, glaring at Alessandro.
"Is this because of the race? You started at the back of the grid, P13 is not bad."
"It's not good enough."
"Say's who? Did Zak tell you that?"
"No."
"P13 is not bad, Alessandro. Stop dwelling over it."
"It's bad. Have you been on Twitter in the past two days?"
His expression softened and he shook his head.
"Don't do that to yourself. It's only going to make it worse."
"How much worse can it get?" he muttered, walking away from him.
By the time Alessandro reached the hotel, it was pouring again.
He parked his rental in the VIP section of the parking lot and was about to walk into the lobby when he spotted someone standing in the rain.
He frowned, spotting the orange McLaren attire.
"What are you doing in the rain?" he called, watching Dakota turn her head.
"Jesus, you scared me," she laughed uneasily as he approached.
"I was looking for you after the race."
"Oh, sorry. I had something to attend to," she muttered, her empty gaze watching cars go by on the main road.
It began to rain. They stood in silence as the drops multiplied.
"Come on," Alessandro said, taking her hand. "Let's head inside."
The duo entered the warm lobby, water trailing behind them.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, not beating around the bush.
"Yeah, of course! Why?"
"Between us, I mean. Is everything okay between us?"
She turned to look at him, her brown eyes dull and fatigued.
"I would hope so. Believe it or not, you're the only stable thing in my life at the moment," she said quietly.
Alessandro found himself staring at her yet again.
She had removed her mask so he could see her pouted lips that were coated in a sheer pink tint.
His gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips. Dakota's breathing stilled as she focused on him.
He reached out, tilting her chin up. Dakota's hands rested on his chest, gripping onto his shirt for stability as he leaned closer. She could feel his soft breaths hitting her wet lips.
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She knew he was waiting. Waiting for her to pull the trigger.
So she did.
Her lips crashed against his, nearly knocking the air out of his lungs. Her hands fisted the material of his shirt as his hands gripped her waist.
She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, the sound of blood rushing through her ears. Her skin was hot, his hands leaving a burning trail as they slipped under her shirt.
The sound of the elevator opening snapped them back to reality. They jumped apart, praying the old couple standing in front of the elevator hadn't seen anything.
Dakota stepped away from Alessandro, her gaze refusing to meet his. The pair walked silently through the hallway until they came to a stop outside of her door.
She stopped, unlocking her door with the keycard.
"When does your flight leave?" she asked softly, propping the door open with one foot.
"Tomorrow evening," Alessandro replied, leaning against the doorframe.
He scrutinized her body language, trying to decipher what she was feeling. Dakota was hot and cold and it was confusing him.
"Then I guess, I'll see you in the States," she whispered, giving him a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
She moved to disappear behind the door and Alessandro quickly glanced around the hallway to make sure no one was watching. Then, he swooped down and captured her lips in a searing kiss.
He pulled away reluctanly, not wanting to go back to his own room.
"Yeah, see you the-"
Dakota didn't think twice before tugging at the collar of his polo and kissing him again.
Her body felt like it was on fire. Burning from the inside, but utterly freezing from the outside. And completely soaked.
Alessandro pushed her into her hotel room, shutting the door closed with his hand. Dakota felt her heart skip a beat as his hands traveled up and down her body.
The two broke apart, desperate for air.
His gazed traveled down her body. Her hair sticking to her cheeks, her shirt clinging to her body.
Alessandro, too, is soaked through, his hair in clumps of wet curls, his chest heaving.
"Dakota? What's going on?"
"Just shut up and kiss me."
He gave her an uncertain look, but wasn't going to deny her request. He pulled her closer, kissing her once again. Their wet bodies stuck together. His hands pulled at her, peeling her shirt up over her head.
Dakota's cold hands returned the favor.
They were kissing and walking, heading further into the room half-dressed. The rain blurred the view out of every window.
The room was dark with the storm until a crack of lightning flashed, brightening everything up.
Alessandro's hand reached out to hit the lights, flooding the room with a soft glow.
They stumbled towards the bed, thunder shaking the walls of the room.
Dakota's hands fumbled with the belt around Alessandro's waist, catching him by surprise. He grabbed her hands, breaking the kiss to look at her. He frowned, catching his breath.
This wasn't her.
"What's gotten in to yo-
"I need you," she interrupted, cutting him off with a kiss.
Alessandro was more than willing to give in to her requests. He gently pushed her onto the bed, tugging down her jeans.
A gasp left her lips as his fingers entered her. Her head fell back against the pillows, her breaths coming out in short pants.
"You say you hate me, and yet you're still dripping wet. Explain that, dolcezza," he whispered roughly, goosebumps appearing on her skin.
She let out a quiet moan, biting down on her lip as her eyes fluttered close.
He felt his dick straining against the material of his jeans and quickly undid his belt. A fiery feeling of excitement rushed through his veins, filling his body with adrenaline.
"Are you sure?" he asked, suddenly unsure if this was the right decision. He couldn't tell what was going on in that pretty little head of hers. Dakota didn't seem like herself, but he couldn't say no to her demands.
"Just fuck me," Dakota groaned, her dark eyes burning with need.
Alessandro felt his lips tug into a smirk as he placed his hands on her waist.
The room was spinning. Nothing felt real to Dakota in that moment. She could feel the cold layer of sweat starting to form on her skin. She could hear the sound of her blood rushing through her ears and her heart thudding in her chest.
She was desperate for his touch.
She held her breath in anticipation as Alessandro slipped on a condom. She had no idea where it had come from, but she didn't really care at that point.
A thrilling feeling spread through him when Dakota's eyes rolled back as he entered her slowly.
He stilled when her grip on his bicep tightened, her brows furrowing. He watched her facial expressions carefully, not wanting to hurt her.
She hissed quietly when he moved again.
"Now would be a good time to tell you I've never done this before."
Alessandro tensed, letting out a deep breath from his nose.
Dakota's eyes opened so she could see his face. His eyes were closed, his jaw ticking as he restrained from fucking her senseless.
"You still want to go through with this?" he asked, raising a brow.
"Alessandro, I want you to fuck me."
That did it.
He let go of any restraint. Throwing caution to the wind, he pushed further into her. A moan escaped her lips and a smile tugged at his lips.
"I always wondered what you sounded like. And now I have you under me, all needy and breathless," he smirked, a victorious glint in his eyes.
She whimpered softly, clenching around him. Alessandro clenched his jaw tightly at the feeling, gripping her waist even tighter.
"Faster," she whined, wrapping her legs around his waist.
"Fuck, I don't want to hurt you."
"Please, make me forget," she whispered, arching her back off the mattress.
She was desperate to get closer to him, her body pressing against his.
On any other day, he would've been confused as hell. But right now, all he could think about was ramming his cock into her soaking pussy.
"Fine then," he grit out, a dark look of lust in his eyes. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk tomorrow."
"You better be able to put your money where your mouth is," she shot back.
Alessandro smirked, turning her around. He pushed her head down, pulling her hips up with his other hand.
Dakota felt her heart jump to her mouth and for a second, she forgot how to breathe.
"Are you sure about this?"
Dakota couldn't speak, she simply nodded.
"I can't hear you, Kota," he said, grabbing her hair in a makeshift ponytail.
"Yes," she breathed, her cheeks flushing at the way she was crumbling under his touch.
His hips meet hers in a steady rhythm, driving Dakota insane. Pleasure tingles through her body in waves with every thrust.
She loved the soft grunts that left his lips and the moans he tried to suppress.
Alessandro tugged harshly at her hair, enjoying the way she clenched around him.
"You like that?"
"Fuck, yes," she moaned.
"I'm sure you can recall," he began, picking up his pace.
Dakota barely registered his words, only aware of his dick ramming into her from behind.
"A certain someone said "If you dream of me, I like it rough'," he grit out, pushing all the way into her.
A strangled moan left her lips at the deeper angle.
"Harder," she whined, gripping onto the sheets.
"Harder? Fuck, you're going to be the death of me," he groaned and obliged.
His grip on her hips was so tight, Dakota was sure it would leave bruises.
He felt her walls tighten around him as she climaxed. He followed moments later, a final wave of pleasure washing over him.
Dakota rolled onto her back, catching her breath. Her eyes scanned his sweaty figure. His muscles rippled with ever movement.
Purr.
Alessandro caught her stare and gave her a wink. He smirked, taking in her rosy cheeks and ruffled hair.
"So much for hating each other."
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