ALICE Ch 146

Tired, but triumphant, Alice enters her suite, pulling off her cap. A cool breeze blows through the open balcony doors.

Kylie wears a sheer teddy over sexy white lingerie, lying on the bed in a classic pinup pose. A bottle of champagne waits in the ice bucket.

Alice closes the door with a smile.

“Won’t be needing these,” Kylie says playfully, lifting her legs and sliding her panties off.

Alice laughs and pours herself a glass of water. Kylie tosses her underwear aside and climbs off the bed, sashaying over. Alice drinks and puts the glass down, then turns to put her hands on Kylie’s hips. Kylie gets up on her toes, and the kiss is warm and soft.

“You smell like champagne,” Kylie notes, nipping and pecking at Alice’s neck while her fingers slip into her shirt.

Alice obligingly lifts her arms and then helps as Kylie rather impatiently tries to get her shirt off. The blonde all but yanks Alice’s shorts and underwear down, then comes back for another kiss, this one a little hungrier as she fondles Alice’s cock.

“I don’t get a snack first?” Alice mumbles in the kiss.

“I am the snack.”

Alice doesn’t argue with that. She abruptly picks Kylie up and carries her to the bed. The blonde’s eyes are bright as Alice lays her down and climbs on top.

“Mmm. Alice,” Kylie moans, running her hands through Alice’s hair as Alice kisses her neck.

“Alice?”

Alice leaves the fantasy behind. She’s on a yacht in the middle of lots of people, face to face with Erica Bruhl, but surrounded by other journalists. She’s been mobbed by them for the past hour. This victory party is really just a press event.

She laughs nervously.

“No, I guess it says something about my confidence that when I would fantasize about Monaco, I never even thought about winning. Like, it didn’t even enter my mind. My fantasy was other stuff. So this is as much a surprise for me as it is for everyone else,” she says. It’s the truth. She’s thought about Monaco, but all the boats and bikinis take her mind to a certain place. Her fantasies were all about getting laid after the race, not the race itself.

“Do you think you’ll be more confident with this Grand Prix in the future?” Erica asks.

“If not confident, then at least not as anxious. What are the odds I’ll have to drive it in another storm, right? Next time has to be better, but for now let’s take it one season at a time, you know?”

“Of course, of course. And speaking of contracts and seasons, there’s a lot of chatter about big teams taking an interest in you,” but Erica doesn’t get to finish the sentence; Alice waves a hand to cut her off.

“Nope. Nope. I can’t even think about that stuff right now. I’m still all jittery,” Alice says. “Look at that.” She holds up her trembling hand. “And I smell like champagne.”

“I like how you smell,” Erica says.

Alice swallows nervously.