Page 5 of Speed

I made my way over to her, managing to pull my gaze off of her amazing chest and back up to her beautiful face. Wow. I see a lot of beautiful women, but she had that natural look I love. She was watching me too, though she looked away frequently, as if she were nervous. Time to pour on the charm.

When I reached her, I extended my hand. "Axel Beckers. It's nice to meet you."

She placed her soft palm in mine and I squeezed her hand firmly while looking into her eyes.

"Marlee Lawson," she said. "Thank you for coming." Her voice was husky, and it threatened to make my dick hard all by itself.

"My pleasure." I'd never said that during an interview and really meant it before, but I'd never had someone so pretty conducting an interview before.

We took our seats. Marlee already had an iced tea in front of her, along with a small pad full of notes.

A waiter approached and I ordered iced tea also, aiming to make the sexy interviewer feel like we had something in common right away.

"Would you like to look over the menu before we get started?" Marlee asked, when the waiter walked off.

It seemed like she intended to be all business.

"What do you recommend?" I asked.

"What do you like?"

"Redheads," I said, giving her a crooked grin.

Marlee didn't return my smile, and she also didn't seem particularly surprised by my comment. She gazed at me, but then averted her eyes briefly, before looking back.

"I recommend a burger," she said, still with no hint of a smile.

I couldn't help but laugh as I picked up my menu, quickly scanned the options, and closed it again. The waiter returned, and we placed our orders.

"Where would you like to start?" I asked, adopting a businesslike tone to match hers.

She glanced at her notes and then asked why I was moving to the area. I explained that I liked the weather, the entertainment, and that the location was convenient to a couple of places where I could practice during my off season.

"Do you still do other racing outside of Indycar?" she asked.

The question gave me pause, as it implied a knowledge of my racing history, and I wouldn't have expected someone from a local, non-sports magazine to dig back into my pre-Indy racing career. The majority of interviewers knew what I currently raced, and who I had recently dated, or at least that was all they usually asked about.

"Yes," I said, "I race bikes and other cars; really anything my manager won't object to."

Marlee smiled briefly, the first positive expression I'd seen on her face since we shook hands. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and I imagined myself running my fingers through that long, red hair while she went down on me. Her pretty lips were going to look even better wrapped around my cock.

"Are you a racing fan?" I asked.

"I'm a casual fan," she said.

"Are you a fan of mine?" I flashed a bigger grin, the type that usually earned women's phone numbers, and more than once, a pair of panties. Marlee was unmoved.

"I wish you well," she said. "But I'm not an active member of Team Axel," she continued, referring to a name often given to my female fan base.

"That's too bad," I said. I wanted to question her, but her cold tone was throwing me off course. I was going to have to work really hard for this one, but I had a feeling she'd be worth it.

After a sip of tea, Marlee asked what I could share about the coming season, and we talked for a while about the schedule, my sponsors, and other drivers. She continued to impress me with her knowledge of my career, and I decided she was either an exceptionally professional interviewer, or she was severely understating her level of interest in racing. She asked insightful questions that I rarely heard from old sportswriters, much less from a twenty-something woman.

"My manager said you're writing for City Magazine?" I asked after our food was delivered.

She nodded and I thought I read concern on her face.

"I'm impressed with your questions," I said.