Driven by Ambition, page 18
Freddy stared at him, holding his gaze until Jaxxon was tempted to look away. “You do realise that there are people in all the countries that we visit, and all you need for sex is other people.”
“Like one-night stands?” It wasn’t really his kind of thing, although he’d had a few here and there.
“Yes, Jaxxon, just like that. After Chester, I couldn’t stomach the idea of letting someone get close to me, and I’m afraid I was a bit of a slut for a few years. I’m on PreP, and I get tested regularly.” Freddy had mentioned that when they’d first hooked up in his hotel room shower.
“Is it going to be a problem?”
“What?”
“We work in the same sport, Freddy. We’ll spend most of the year travelling together.”
Freddy’s eyes widened and he looked horrified at the prospect of spending so much time with Jaxxon. “Jaxxon. If I’m with you, I will only be with you, unless we consent to something else. I plan to focus my high libido on you.”
Oh, Freddy had been insulted, not horrified, at the idea Jaxxon might assume he wouldn’t be monogamous with him. God, he wanted this man, and only this man, right now. A volcanic heat exploded across Jaxxon’s skin. He stood up, paced around the table, and hauled Freddy to his feet. He kissed Freddy with all the ferocity that had built up during the evening, with teeth, tongue, and lips, all moving with desperate urgency. He wanted Freddy more than anything. Freddy tasted like champagne with a remnant of the sour soup. Freddy curled his fists into Jaxxon’s shirt, clinging on as their breath mingled into rapid pants and groans. His heart banged out an impatient tempo.
“Take me home and fuck me, Freddy.”
“We haven’t had the main course yet.”
“Make me the main course.” His voice had deepened into a hoarse whisper. Freddy pressed his body against Jaxxon’s, hard cocks rubbing together.
“Patience.” Freddy sank to his knees, dragging his hands down Jaxxon’s torso, lower and lower until his face nuzzled against Jaxxon’s aching cock. “This is just a promise.” He gripped Jaxxon’s ass, fingers digging in, and he mouthed at Jaxxon’s cock through his clothes. It shouldn’t be this hot, there were too many layers of fabric in the way, and Freddy’s mouth was only tracing his shape, not surrounding him. He threaded his hands into Freddy’s hair and groaned.
“Please.”
“No.” Freddy stood up and kissed him hard on the mouth, before reaching up and untangling Jaxxon’s hands. Noise filled the air—his own whine—as Freddy stepped away and sat down in his chair. “We are going to enjoy this very expensive, exclusive dinner, and then ... And only then, will we go back to my place where I will take you apart inch by inch.”
Somehow, on trembling legs, he managed to collapse back in his chair. His hand shook as he tried to eat the soup. It wasn’t until after the soup had been cleared away and replaced with a tiny morsel of food artistically centred on a huge white plate that he was able to form a single thought beyond, ‘now, now.’
“Try it. It’s excellent.” Freddy used the side of his fork to slice the small piece of fish in half, scattering the micro-herbs and edible flowers around his plate. A stack of slices of fresh tomatoes and thin slices of salty haloumi lay under the succulent fish. Jaxxon tried—and failed—to ignore the way the veins in his cock pulsed. Instead, he attempted to eat the food. It was delicious and absolutely no reflection on the chef’s ability that he barely tasted it. He wanted to shovel it in, rush through the rest of dinner, so he could go home with Freddy.
“We have all night.”
“Promises.” The croak in his voice echoed around the room. Dinner passed in a blur of red wine, tension, pointless chatter about S1, and incredible food. He was thankful that Freddy did most of the talking, and keeping it about work, stopped him from simmering into a full-blown boiling need to strip Freddy right there. There was guinea fowl cooked to perfection with a side of green beans, and two desserts. One with baked apples, blue cheese, and honeycomb, and the other was a honey cake with plums and ice cream. The cake was succulent, soaked in honey, with similar flavours to the baklava that his mum made in the bakery, and he left the restaurant with sweetness lingering on his tongue.
Chapter 19
Conceptually knowing about Freddy’s wealth hadn’t prepared Jaxxon for the reality of it. They’d walked from the restaurant, a few blocks to Freddy’s building, and the cool London evening spring air had done nothing to slow the heated tempo in Jaxxon’s veins. The marble foyer made Jaxxon gasp, the place looked like a bank with the pretensions of displayed wealth, and he focused his gaze on Freddy’s spine as he followed him to the elevators. Freddy swiped a card and the elevator rushed to the top floor, opening up to a small room with two doors.
“Reiko Inoue lives there, and this one is me.” Inoue, as in the media mogul? The desire buzzing in his veins rapidly cooled sending chills over his skin as he followed Freddy inside. A wall of glass did the impossible and sucked all the remnant sexual tension out of his body. This apartment must be worth mega-millions. He couldn’t move, just stared out over London through massive glass windows. It wasn’t that high up; not in this suburb; but the view over the city was staggeringly beautiful.
“Jaxxon. Are you alright?”
“Ah, yeah.” He might be having an out-of-body experience, although that seemed dramatic. The jarring change from wanting to rip Freddy’s clothes off to standing in his lounge staring at one of the world’s most expensive views made him dizzy.
“I’m going out of a limb here and am going to guess that you aren’t alright.” Freddy guided Jaxxon over to a beautiful leather couch and sat him down with a ... well, it would’ve been thud except the couch was soft and welcoming, like falling onto candy floss.
“I think I’m going—”
Freddy leaped up and grabbed a vase. “Be sick into this.”
“You want me to vomit into a vase?” He squinted at Freddy, who appeared to think that Jaxxon had food poisoning. Probably more logical than freaking out at Freddy’s expensive apartment. “I was just going to leave and go back to my hotel, not vomit.”
“Hold on. Why are you leaving?”
He wasn’t sure either, just that he wanted to escape this place. He didn’t belong here. “I grew up in a two-bedroom flat above the bakery where my parents worked. Their rent was included in their pay cheque.”
“And look how far you’ve come.”
“Our whole flat could fit inside this room, and I bet your place is much bigger than this.”
Freddy knelt in front of him. “Are you panicking because I have a nice apartment?”
“Yes. This can’t work. How can this work?” He could assimilate into S1, surrounded by rich people, and do his job. He wasn’t sure he could live like one of them. Certainly, he couldn’t be in a relationship with someone who took that wealth for granted and lived like a fucking king on top of London.
“Jaxxon. We have a plan. It’s going to be fine. We made a plan for you, because you needed one.”
He needed a drink of water to soothe his desiccated throat. “Technically, we don’t have a plan yet. We are in the midst of creating one.”
Freddy sat on the floor, picked up Jaxxon’s right foot and began to massage it. “Relax. Close your eyes. You could be anywhere.”
“But I’m in an apartment that I’ll never be able to afford, even if I’m Team Principal for the next three decades.”
Freddy pressed his fingers against Jaxxon’s foot, right in the pressure point that released lactic acid and made all the tension ease away. His fingers worked the little muscles in Jaxxon’s foot, a thoroughly amazing massage, and the only sound was their breathing and the slip of Freddy’s fingers on Jaxxon’s bamboo and cotton socks.
“Are you worried that we aren’t equals?”
“Yes.”
“I’d say that you are more than my equal on every criteria that matters, except money, except I don’t think that’ll help right now.”
He made an uncommitted noise. Rank and status shouldn’t matter this much, and yet, he’d spent his life working towards having a highly ranked job in one of the most competitive sports in the world. How many times have he heard that S1 was the pinnacle of motor-racing? Freddy continued to massage his feet, releasing tension in his tendons and in places where he didn’t realise he had any. The mess in his head felt disconnected from Freddy’s attentions.
“Should we add a financial clause to your plan? Would that help?”
Jaxxon leaned back and stared at the plain white ceiling. He wasn’t sure how that would work. “I have plenty of my own money.” He was doing well on his own career path; and remembering that helped settle the churn in his stomach.
“Gamble Racing ought to be paying you well as Team Principal.”
“They are.”
“But you are still worried about my money?”
“It’s not the money, per say, it’s more the trappings of it.” He gulped as Freddy encircled his ankle with his hand, pressing his thumbs gently into his flesh.
“Per say... I love the way you talk.”
“You do?”
“Yes. It’s like you couldn’t hide your education if you tried.”
“Am I flaunting it?”
Freddy smiled, his hazel eyes glowing, perhaps admiration on his face. “No. That’s the beauty of it; you are just you and it comes out so naturally. I can tell when someone is trying too hard to impress.”
He groaned as Freddy pressed his fingers into a tight spot on his ankle. “Aren’t my feet a bit gross?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been in meetings all day wearing shoes.” It was an immediate thing to worry about because everything else was too overwhelming and he didn’t know where to start unpacking it all. He’d probably overreacted to Freddy’s apartment. Shit, had he hurt Freddy by stressing about this?
“It’s fine. But I’m not going to wash them Jesus style.”
Jaxxon slid off the couch and wrapped his arms around Freddy, burying his face against his shoulder as he laughed. “Good. That would be fucking weird.”
How perfect of Freddy to say exactly what he needed to centre himself and the two of them. He was here because they’d had dinner together. The old buzz of their earlier foreplay started to grow as they hugged, squashed awkwardly together on the floor, until Jaxxon’s legs started to cramp and he tried to straighten them out.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just too old for sitting on the floor.”
“Old. You aren’t even forty yet.” They both stood up, and Jaxxon stomped his foot a few times to bring sensation back into it. The pins and needles were at odds with the electric way Freddy’s loose hold on his arms felt.
“It’s incongruous, really. I’m the second youngest Team Principle in the history of S1 and I’m always so aware of that, especially at the meetings with the S1 board and stewards before each race, and yet I don’t want age to be a thing in my life. I don’t want to become one of those men who chases youth constantly.”
“Ew, there’s something wrong with men who only date much younger men.”
Jaxxon nodded. “And straight men who only date young women are even grosser.”
Freddy shuddered. “Oh, definitely. There’s too much weird power in that one. Creepy.”
“Yeah. I’m glad we are around the same age.”
“You just like my experience.” Freddy winked.
He shook his head. “It’s not that, although I’m sure that will have its benefits. I like that you know who you are, and you are living your passion. You aren’t trying to relive your athletic youth.”
“No, definitely not, although I understand the temptation. I was so young, and lauded as young, when I started out in S3, that it would’ve been easy to cling to that sense of early achievement, but luckily for me I spent a few years in S3 and S2 before I got my S1 seat. By then, there were drivers younger than me, being championed by the media. It was humbling in exactly the way I needed to realise the benefits of experience. And now I’m over forty, it’s starting to feel like the best is yet to come. I have the perfect job for me, I get to travel and see every S1 race live, and I’ve just met someone who I want to share it with.” The sappy admission warmed Jaxxon all the way through. Doubt disappeared. The trappings of Freddy’s upbringing and money didn’t matter when he was so certain about the two of them.
“Come with me.” He held out his hand and Freddy took it. They walked together to the huge glass windows and Jaxxon turned around so his back faced the view. He leaned against one of the steel struts between the glass and cupped Freddy’s face. “The plan is this...”
“Yes.” Freddy was breathless.
“I want more than a hook up with you. I want to try and have a relationship; one where we travel for work together, where we are honest with each other, and where we understand the boundaries of our jobs. I can’t share all the Gamble Racing data with you, and I don’t want to know the other team’s gossip before it becomes public knowledge. I refuse to use this as a reason to get ahead.”
“You can do that on your own, Jaxxon. You don’t need me.”
“Thank you. And I know it’s probably too early to have this conversation, but I need it, and I think you do too.”
Freddy swallowed, his throat moving against Jaxxon’s wrist. “I do. I’ve never entered a relationship with an extended negotiation before we really start.”
“Is it weird?”
“No. It’s fucking hot. I love that you’ve thought about this, about how to cope with the different pressures of our careers and how being together might impact our jobs and our lives. I’ve only had one relationship with someone in the paddock and it was a complete disaster. I made assumptions about Chester, and he took advantage of that. Talking about this with you makes me feel cared for.”
His breath caught in the back of his throat at Freddy’s raw honesty, and there was only one thing for it. He kissed Freddy. He poured all these new feelings that he couldn’t put into words into this kiss; the desperate swirl of chemistry in his gut, the aching need in his balls, the shared passion for motor-racing, the way they complemented each other, but most of all, the zing of electricity as their tongues lashed each other.
“If we both have money, how about we just keep our own money and spoil each other at a level we are okay with. If I overstep, please tell me.” Freddy placed his hands on Jaxxon’s heaving chest.
“I can do that. Most of the time, I’ll be okay, it’s just sometimes, like walking in here, it’s a stark reminder of the differences in our upbringing.”
Freddy brushed his lips across Jaxxon’s cheek, then whispered in his ear. “Your worry isn’t about us now, it’s about where we came from?”
“Yes. I know I’ve earned my place here and I shouldn’t be insecure about my upbringing...”
“It doesn’t sound like insecurity to me. Whenever you talk about your parents or your childhood, it sounds idyllic.”
“Idyllic?”
“Yes. Your parents love you, they obviously want the best for you, and you’ve succeeded thanks to their commitment to your well-being.”
His heart swelled. “That is true. I have the best parents.” He wanted them to meet Freddy, all of the sudden, and his heart skipped a beat imagining them sitting at the chipped Formica table in the kitchen above the bakery. He could imagine Freddy there, comfortable in the small kitchen, and without a hint of disdain at their lack of wealth.
“Money doesn’t give you love or support. Whenever you get overwhelmed by the grand capitalist glory of my life, remember that. I would give this all away to have parents who gave a shit about me.”
Jaxxon pulled Freddy into a tight hug, utterly humbled by Freddy’s admission. “I’m so sorry. I was so focused on my goals and what I didn’t have that I forgot what I do have.” The perspective was one Freddy had mentioned before, but somehow, standing here in one of London’s most expensive apartments with Freddy tugging on his ear lobe with his teeth, made it finally sink in. Wealth didn’t matter without love, and his heart broke for the child that Freddy had been, and he realised he adored the man Freddy had grown into despite the lack of it. Jaxxon’s drive to chase career success and money had been created by his childhood and wanting to have a better life for him and his parents, and he’d forgotten that part.
“I’ve lost my way a little. When I first went to uni, it was because I wanted to be Team Principal of a racing team. Not for the status. Racing gripped me and I wanted it to be my whole life, and I knew if I worked hard enough, then I’d get to the top. Now that I’m here, I keep looking around for what I’m lacking, but I’m here already. I lack nothing.”
“Your ambition got you here and now you can’t stop chasing more.”
He gulped. “More will never be enough. I need to pause and enjoy being here.” And if he did, then taking Gamble Racing to the World Championship would happen without him needing to stress about whether he belonged. He belonged because he was here. His next goal was a World Championship, a constructor’s title for Gamble Racing. That ought to keep him busy for a long time.
“You did it. You’ve made the space for yourself.” Freddy pulled Jaxxon’s tie off, tossing it aside, and undid the button on his collar. His warm fingers against Jaxxon’s throat anchored him to this moment. The only thing missing in his life was a partner to share his success with; and maybe, hopefully, Freddy would be that man. The power in the possibility roared in his veins. He pushed his thigh between Freddy’s legs and walked them towards the couch, until Freddy sat down, and he straddled his legs, purposely surrounding him.
Chapter 20
Freddy couldn’t think of anything better than Jaxxon’s weight on him. The glorious way he was being pressed into the couch was exacerbated by the slow way Jaxxon’s gaze raked over him, as if he were cataloguing every sinew and muscle. They were still clothed, yet Jaxxon’s gaze stripped him bare and his cock, already rigid, ached deep down in his balls. Hips bucking upwards, he needed to rub himself all over Jaxxon. Jaxxon’s hands were at his throat, undoing his shirt, button by button. He was being undone, unravelled, by Jaxxon’s touch. With a tilt of his chin, he lifted his face to kiss Jaxxon, and what a kiss. It tasted of the honey cake from dinner and the rich tannins of the pinot noir, all mingled with Jaxxon himself. Their tongues danced, grappled, somewhere between a waltz and a wrestle, and Freddy was lost to the moment. Breathy noises, moans, groans, and a rumble of triumph as Jaxxon’s fingers tangled in his chest hair, all intertwined. Who made which noise? It didn’t matter. Lust was the antidote to overthinking. His brain was blissfully blank as sensation ruled. Exquisite.
