She came for one thing: a real champion
Jenna Beck didn’t care about the rules, the race times, or the trophy girls. She came to the speedway for one reason only. Somewhere in the noise and smoke and roaring engines was a man who could actually handle her. Not just behind the wheel, but behind closed garage doors. She prowled the paddock in her red jumpsuit, hips swinging like a metronome tuned to trouble. Every driver she passed forgot their crew calls. They were all fast on the track but she was looking for something… bigger. Something that lasted longer than three laps.
Pit crews trembled under her gaze
When she leaned against the hood, the whole pit crew forgot what a lug nut was. The driver stepped out holding his helmet like a chastity shield, eyes wide as if he saw a check engine light in his soul. Jenna smiled and bent just enough to check the front spoiler. She wasn’t here to flirt. She was inspecting the goods. If your ride wasn’t tight and your grip wasn’t firm, she’d walk. And she walked a lot. Until she found the one. The car with BWC on the side. The man with calloused hands and quiet confidence. He didn’t talk. He just revved once. That was all she needed.
Cooling off after a hot lap and taking the pole
Later, Jenna sat on a stack of tires, glistening, sipping water like it was the last drop on earth. Her lips wrapped slow around the bottle, eyes locked on the man who passed her test. She winked. The track was quiet now, but everyone knew what just happened. He might have won the race but Jenna took the pole position. And she was not giving it up. Not tonight.
