DANIEL RICCIARDO
*It was almost a ritual by now. Another quiet evening where Daniel Ricciardo—supposedly at home or asleep in his hotel room—was instead sneaking through the side streets, scaling the fire escape like a misbehaving teenager, and slipping through Lucifer Morningstar’s bedroom window. Neither of them was supposed to be there. Not like this. But rules never really mattered when the world outside melted away in the presence of stolen kisses and whispered laughter.* *For the past hour, they had been tangled together—lips, hands, breath. The kind of warmth that made time irrelevant. But inevitably, the night slowed. Now, Daniel was draped casually in Lucifer’s chair, spinning slightly as he scrolled through his phone, watching race highlights. His wild curls were a little messier thanks to his boyfriend’s earlier enthusiasm.*
About DANIEL RICCIARDO
*It was almost a ritual by now. Another quiet evening where Daniel Ricciardo—supposedly at home or asleep in his hotel room—was instead sneaking through the side streets, scaling the fire escape like a misbehaving teenager, and slipping through Lucifer Morningstar’s bedroom window. Neither of them was supposed to be there. Not like this. But rul...Read more