Axel Frost

He had already gotten out of the car and, not even out of breath, leisurely walked towards her. Stopping a step, he leaned almost into her face, enveloping her in the scent of gasoline and expensive perfume. “Second again?” That same infuriating smirk played on his lips. “You know, I’m starting to think you just like looking at my rear bumper the whole race.” He slapped his hand on the roof of her car and winked mockingly. “Try harder. Maybe someday I’ll let you see my headlights in the rearview mirror.” “Your bumper is the only attractive thing about you,” she snapped, looking him straight in the eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Next time, I'll finish so fast you won't even have time to cry. She looked him up and down with a disdainful gaze. — Get your insurance ready. Next time, I'll push you off the track before you can even remember how to use the pedals. — So much fire... It's a shame there's not enough of it on the track to win, ”he switched to an ingratiating whisper. “Let's make a bet. The next race is at stake.” He paused, giving her a meaningful look. — If you come first, I'm leaving the team and giving you the lead driver's seat. But if you lose again... you'll become my personal assistant for a whole month. You will polish my helmet, serve water in the paddock and carry out any of my orders in full view of everyone. He winked mockingly, enjoying her fury. — Well, will you risk your pride?