Throttled (Dirty Air 1)

“Oh my God, you can’t say stuff like that. Like ever.” More laughs as I smack her ass again. I love the feel of it beneath my palm, my dick stirring while a smile breaks out on my face.

I carry her to the waiting town car. We all drive back to the hotel, soaking wet from champagne. Maya gives me the biggest grin that reaches her eyes, and damn if my lungs don’t burn at my sudden intake of breath.

“Hi, everyone. Maya here with the amazing Noah Slade. He agreed to do an exclusive interview for my vlog.” She looks gorgeous with her hair down. Today she wears shorts that show off her golden legs, ones I want wrapped around my waist while I pound into her. I’m so curious to hear the different noises she makes during sex. Is she a screamer? A moaner? I’ll volunteer to figure it out.

She smiles at the camera she situated on a rolling cart in the pit garage. We position ourselves next to my race car, the vibrant red calling my name as Maya’s ass leans against it. Low beeps from the pit computers sound off in the background.

“You think I’m amazing?” I forget the camera for a second. Like the sad sap I am lately around her, I love hearing anything she has to share, any revelation about her feelings. A fucking breadcrumb would be nice. She taunts me daily despite the way she guards herself, keeping her lips sealed, both literally and figuratively. There are few opportunities for us to be alone. Sophie magically finds us every time we get a moment by ourselves, which makes me want to take drastic measures to spend time with her, including this exclusive interview.

And everyone knows I hate interviews.

She rolls her eyes with minimal effort. “Hush, I wonder if you consume extra calories to feed your ego. Anyway, fans want a backstage exclusive. They’re curious to learn more about you. So I copied a famous game called Web’s Most Searched Answers.”

She passes me a cardboard poster with my name in a Google search bar, along with a bunch of tape-covered questions. I recognize it so I guess I’m famous enough to play it.

“Our first question is…” She expectantly looks at me, making me smile. Her parted lips tempt me to take a risk and kiss her.

I cough to cover up a groan, and then I tear off the tape for the first piece of paper.

“What is Noah Slade’s height? Well, I’m six foot. Which is considered on the taller end for F1. They make the cars to fit around our bodies specifically. My feet are near the tip of the front wing up against the pedals.”

Her hands motion for me to continue. All right, I get it.

“Who is Noah Slade and Santiago Alatorre.” I pause. “I’m Noah. No surprise there. And Santiago is my partner and Maya’s brother.” I point at her like an idiot because obviously they know that. “He’s a Spanish dude who’s loud and rarely beats me at racing. Still needs to work on his overtaking skills and not crashing into me from behind.”

Maya sticks her tongue out at me, making me think about her tongue on other places of my body. Not a convenient time for a boner with cameras rolling. I shift against the hood of the car, discreetly adjusting my pants.

“Ha. Ha. Everyone can tune in for your comedy career once you’re done with racing.”

Fat chance that happens. I chuckle as I rip off the tape to reveal another question.

“What is Noah Slade’s net worth? I’m not one to brag because that’s not polite and I was raised better. But I think last time I checked, about three hundred million. Give or take. Received good advice from my financial advisor about always investing your money. Don’t let it sit in the bank gathering dust. So that’s what I do to multiply the amount I do have. Not to mention real estate investments.”

Maya lets out a low whistle. “I’m impressed. We’re talking to a World Champion here who gives free monetary advice.”

“You know what they say…the bigger the bank account…” I waggle my brows.

Maya ignores the camera and throws her head back. I love the sound of her laugh; pride surges through me at amusing her. Her exposed neck entices my inconvenient one-track mind.

“Who is Noah Slade’s wife?”

Wow, she picked hard-hitting questions here.

I continue. “I’m currently on the market. I’ve never married someone so that’s a negative. Is the statement no wife, happy life?” I wink at the camera.

“I think you mean happy wife, happy life.” Maya blushes and shakes her head.

I chuckle before I keep going. “Where does Noah Slade live? I’m not going to give away my addresses here because I can’t have paparazzi and fans at my doors all the time. My limited privacy is the best part of the off-season. But I own an apartment in Monaco, a house in Italy, and a loft in London. Favorite place to live is off the Amalfi coast during F1’s winter breaks. Hands down the best food and views.”

“Who can resist gelato? I’ve never been to Italy, but the food is my favorite. I can’t wait until the Prix stop in Milan. All right, two more left.” She clasps her hands together and looks at me. She crosses her legs again, drawing my attention toward them once more. I lick my bottom lip before continuing.

“When is Noah Slade retiring?” I blink at the board. I never think about retiring, choosing instead to focus on the next year. I’m still young enough to not worry about it. But the question makes me think about what I’ll do once I hit my late thirties.

“I bet you anything that Liam and Jax google this yearly. They’re probably waiting for my announcement since they’re younger. I don’t doubt it.” Blood rushes to my dick at the sound of her giggle. I need to get out of h

ere before I do something stupid on camera. “Uh. I haven’t considered retiring anytime soon. But I imagine if I meet someone special and have kids, I may consider what’s best for my family. But for now, I plan on kicking everyone’s asses.”

Maya looks surprised at my answer. Hell, I am too. When the fuck have I thought about having kids or a wife? But the answer falls from my lips with ease, like I think about the notion occasionally.