My Brother's Best Friend, My Secret F1 Lover

Sienna's POV

Ten minutes ago, I didn't know his name.

Now Kai had me pinned against the door of a penthouse suite in Monte Carlo, his mouth on mine like he'd been waiting years instead of one drink.

"Okay," I said, laughing against his lips. "Tell me again what you do."

"I drive." He kissed the corner of my jaw. "Fast."

"That's what every guy at that bar says. Half of them drive their dad's yacht."

"I'm a Formula One driver, Sienna."

"Sure you are." I tugged his tie loose. "And I'm a princess."

He pulled back just enough to grin at me, dark hair falling over one eye, and tipped his head toward the coffee table.

A racing helmet sat there. Matte black, a sponsor logo across the visor, scuffed in a way that didn't come from a gift shop.

I stared at it. Then at him.

"Oh my God. You weren't flirting."

"I was absolutely flirting," he said. "I was also telling the truth."

The city glittered through the glass behind him, the harbor full of lit-up boats that probably cost more than my entire life. I'd come to Monaco for my brother's wedding, not to end up in some race car driver's hotel room in a red silk dress I'd bought on a dare.

Kai's thumb brushed my cheek. His voice dropped, losing the cocky edge.

"Are you sure you want to stay?"

"Is that your line?"

"It's a question." He held my gaze. "Tell me to stop, and I stop."

I grabbed his collar and pulled him back down.

"I didn't ask you to stop."

We stumbled backward, my heels hitting the rug one after the other, and landed hard on the sofa. I was halfway onto his lap when I heard it. A long, ugly rip.

We both froze.

His titanium watch had caught in my zipper. When he lifted his wrist, a strip of red silk came with it, the dress split open from my shoulder blade to my hip.

"Well," Kai said. "That's going on my record."

"You destroyed my dress."

"Your dress attacked my watch first."

I laughed so hard I had to bury my face in his neck. He was laughing too, warm and shaking under me, and then his hands slid into my hair and the laughing turned into something else.

His palm flattened against the bare skin of my back where the torn silk gaped open, his fingers scorching hot against my spine. When he peeled the ruined dress down my shoulders, I didn't stop him. It pooled around my waist in a crimson heap, and the way he looked at me—dark eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling fast—made the air in the room feel ten degrees warmer.

"God, look at you," he muttered, his voice rough as he traced a slow line from my collarbone down to the edge of my lace bra.

I made quick work of his buttons, shoving his dress shirt off his shoulders until my palms met solid, lean muscle. He had the body of an athlete—all taut lines, warm skin, and a faint scar grazing his lower ribs that I kissed before he could think to cover it. His breath hitched, his fingers tightening in my hair as he hauled me up against him.

We didn't make it to the bedroom gracefully. He lifted me by the thighs, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me through the dark doorway and tumbled us onto the king-sized mattress.

Sheets tangled around our legs as clothes disappeared onto the floor. Every touch felt urgent and deliberate all at once—the scrape of his jaw against my throat, the heavy weight of him settling between my thighs, the scent of cedar and warm skin surrounding me completely. When he unclasped his titanium watch and tossed it onto the nightstand, his hands came back to me unhindered, pinning my wrists above my head for one breathless second before lacing his fingers through mine.

"Still with me?" he whispered against my mouth, his forehead resting against mine, every muscle in his body trembling with restraint.

For an answer, I arched up into him and pulled him closer.

A low groan tore from his throat as he sank into me, slow and deep, stealing the rest of the breath straight out of my lungs. My nails dug into the muscles of his shoulders as we found a rhythm that was dizzying, heated, and completely consuming. Every roll of his hips sent sparks racing under my skin, his mouth mapping every inch of my neck and collarbone while the headboard thudded softly against the wall.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the harbor lights kept burning, blurring into gold against the glass as I came apart beneath him with my face buried in his shoulder, his name breaking on my lips right before he followed me over the edge.

---

My phone alarm went off like a fire drill.

I jerked upright, tangled in a sheet that smelled like someone else's cologne, and squinted at the screen.

*Noah's wedding — be at the villa by 11.*

It was 8:42.

"No, no, no."

Somewhere behind a closed door, a shower was running. Kai was humming. Badly.

I scrambled off the bed, every muscle in my body aching in a way that made my face heat, and found my dress draped over the sofa where he'd tossed it. In daylight, it looked worse. The zipper had snapped clean off at the bottom, and the tear gaped wide enough to show the entire left side of my body. There was no version of reality where I walked through a five-star lobby in that.

There was also no version where I stayed for room-service eggs and an awkward conversation with a man whose last name I'd never asked.

I yanked open his closet.

White dress shirts. A pair of black tailored pants. A black jacket that probably cost a month of my rent. I grabbed one of each.

The shirt swallowed me. The collar still carried a faint trace of cedar, the same scent that had been on his skin last night, and for a second I almost lost my nerve. Then the shower hissed louder and I kept moving.

The pants were a disaster. I cinched the waist with one of his belts and rolled the legs three times, and they still puddled over my feet. I shoved my heels on anyway, twisted my hair into a knot, and plucked a black racing cap off the dresser.

I caught myself in the mirror and winced.

I looked like a woman who did this professionally.

"Sorry, pretty boy," I whispered, tugging the brim low. "Consider this a very expensive souvenir."

I left the red dress folded on the sofa, broken zipper on top, like an apology.

Then I ran.

---

The elevator was already open at the end of the hall, which felt like the universe finally doing me a favor. I stepped in and jabbed the lobby button four times.

The doors had just started sliding shut when the suite door behind me flew open.

"Sienna!"

Kai came barreling down the hallway wearing nothing but a white hotel towel and a look of total disbelief. Water ran down his chest. In one hand, he was clutching my ripped red dress.

"Wait! You forgot—"

The suite door swung closed behind him with a heavy, final click.

He didn't notice. He was too busy lunging for the elevator, one arm out, the towel slipping lower with every step. He grabbed for it with the hand holding my dress, which only made things worse.

A housekeeper rounded the corner with a cart of fresh linens.

She took one look at him. Wet, nearly naked, chasing the elevator with a torn woman's dress in his fist.

She screamed.

"No, no, it's fine," Kai said, holding up both hands. The towel dipped. He caught it. "I know her—"

"Security!" she shouted, already backing away. "Security, floor twelve!"

I pressed myself against the elevator wall, one hand over my mouth.

From the other end of the corridor, a guard came jogging, radio crackling on his shoulder.

"Sir, put the lady's dress down!"

"It's not what it looks like!" Kai said.

"Step away from the elevator, sir."

"She's *in* the elevator. That's literally the point."

The radio crackled again. "Twelve, do you need backup?"

"Possibly," the guard said, eyeing the towel. "Sir, I'm going to need you to stay away from the female guests."

"I am not—" Kai turned, finally, and looked straight through the narrowing gap.

At me.

At the black cap pulled low over my eyes. At his white shirt hanging off my shoulders. At his pants pooling over my heels.

He stopped arguing.

For one long second, he just stared, and I watched it all land on his face. Then the corner of his mouth started to lift. Slowly. Like he was impressed, and furious, and having the time of his life.

I gave him a little wave. Fingers only.

Bye.

The doors were six inches apart when his voice carried down the hall, low and amused and completely unbothered by the security guard reaching for his arm.

"Run while you can, sweetheart. I'm going to find you."

The doors sealed shut. The floor number above them blinked from twelve to eleven.

I slid down the wall and laughed until my ribs hurt.

Best escape of my entire life.

---

By the time I got back to the villa, the bridal suite was chaos. Hairspray, champagne, my cousin crying about a broken nail. I shoved Kai's clothes into the bottom of my suitcase, cap on top, and stepped into the sage-green bridesmaid dress hanging on the closet door.

It zipped up perfectly. No watches involved.

My phone buzzed on the vanity. Noah.

First came the wedding schedule, color-coded, because my brother is the kind of man who color-codes. Ceremony at two. Photos at three. Toasts at six.

Then a second message.

*Reminder: you are NOT allowed to flirt with my groomsmen. Especially the best man. I mean it, Sienna. Behave.*

I rolled my eyes and typed back a thumbs-up.

Then I glanced down at the suitcase, where the brim of a black racing cap was poking out from under my clothes.

And for no reason at all, my stomach dropped.