The delicate texture made Hunter feel that his irritability just now was instantly improved because he didn't turn on the butter.

And Winston ate the remaining half of the meal bag.

Hunter stared at his lips, watching Winston's tongue slightly revealing between his lip slits, as if he was slightly pushing the corner of his lips.

He remembered the scene when the two of them smoked together before, when the guy bit his finger and used his tongue to hit the cigarette butt.

It seemed like there was a miniature bomb in his heart, which suddenly burst open, causing his breathing to stop at that moment.

Don't watch it anymore, don't watch it anymore...

Hunter left his face.

But within a few minutes, Hunter couldn't help but turn around. Winston's neat and slender fingers packed the lunch box and garbage, and it looked like it had never been opened.

"What are you looking at?"

It was clearly the sound that once felt cold, but it was slow and soft at this moment, as if it was constantly dragging his thinking into a secret gap.

"No... nothing..." Hunter touched his chin, "Is your cleanliness a bit serious? The box of the plane meal has to be cleaned up so clean."

"If I had a cleanliness, you would have been deported like a cockroach." Winston's eyes slanted, as if he knew everything in Hunter's mind.

He reached his hand in front of Hunter's eyes, slowly opened his fingers, and said lightly: "Are you looking at my hand just now?"

"No...no..." Hunter's heart seemed to be bounced.

"Oh, is that? What a pity."

"What a pity?" Hunter became curious.

Winston's lips raised Hunter's familiar smile again.

"I can let you touch it."

"What do you touch?"

"My finger."

"I...I'm sick!" Hunter opened his eyes widened.

My heartbeat, which had finally calmed down, became chaotic again.

"Or do you want to lick it?"

It was a sound that was so light that it was almost impossible to hear, but the eyes in those eyes were filled with a playful warmth.

"Ah... you're narcissistic to a new level." Hunter gave the other person a blank look, pulled down his eye mask, and continued to sleep.

From that moment on, he inexplicably paid attention to everything in the entire cabin, especially the every move of the people around him.

He thought he knew Winston much more than ordinary people, but at this time he realized that it was more than that.

The sound of Winston breathing, the unique tremor of his opening of the newspaper, and even Hunter could imagine his expression in his mind... What angle did his fingers use to gently pinch the newspaper where...

Then the finger with a man's sense of strength and elegant curve pointed at his lower lip, gently squeezed into the gap, touching the tip of his tongue... turning his world to pieces.

The flight attendant came to Hunter and took away the lunch box he placed on the small table.

The other party just touched his shoulder lightly, and Hunter pulled off his eye mask in a frightened manner.

"Sorry, sir."

Hunter's apologetic eyes at the flight attendant.

"No...nothing..."

Can't sleep at all.

"What's wrong?" Winston's finger reached towards Hunter, as it got closer and closer, the knuckles of the index finger were bent, about to rub against Hunter's cheek.

Hunter avoided it as if he was electrocuted: "No... nothing! I thought the garbage in the lunch box had fallen on me."

"Trump? Where did the garbage come from?" Winston turned his face, his eyes slanted downward, "You eat cleanly."

"...I'll continue to sleep." Hunter exhaled.

It would be better not to look at this guy again.

The more you see, the more you think.

"Then you go to bed." Winston pinched Hunter's eye mask with his fingers and slowly pulled him down.

He held his breath, afraid that his breath would touch the other person and Winston discovered something.

When Winston's fingers left, it obviously scraped over Hunter's nose.

Hunter turned sideways and tilted his head to the other side. His chaotic thoughts sank in a few minutes, and Hunter makes a gentle breathing sound.

Sleep can temporarily let go of all things that he can't understand.

It was morning when the plane arrived at Abu Dhabi International Airport.

Hunter stood up dizzyly and pulled his bag off the luggage rack.

He yawned, and as the other passenger's luggage was about to fall and smash it on his head, Winston suddenly stood up, stretched his arms, and pressed Hunter's head down.

"Ouch!" Hunter's eyes on Winston.

"Be careful." The other party carried the luggage bag on his shoulder.

Hunter followed the other party and asked, "Hey, where is your convoy living?"

“Hotels near the IELTS Port Raceway.”

After Winston walked out of the plane, he turned around and waited for Hunter to follow.

"At this stop, do you still think you can make it into the top five?"

Hunter pulled up the corners of his lips and smiled: "Yes, why can't it?"

The IELTS Port track includes highway sections and continuous sharp turns, and the main race is very challenging for the driver's ability at night.

Hunter could feel that his ability to judge the arrival of a turning point and seize the opportunity was different from when he first entered Formula One. In addition, the racing cars that Shen Chuan and Shen Xi debugged and upgraded for him, Hunter's confidence in himself has never been as obvious as it is now.

"Then am I going to start preparing for the striptease?" Winston asked with a chuckling.

He rarely smiled at the media, and to the crew, but for Hunter, his smile was no longer something new, but Hunter would subconsciously look at it with his eyes and imprint it in his mind like a carving.

"Yes." Hunter pulled the corner of his mouth and walked past Winston, "People... it's better not to set his goals too high."

"Why do you say that?" Winston followed Hunter in a strait.

"Because the people who compete for the championship in the branch are Charles of Mercedes-Benz and Irving of Red Bull Racing. They have dominated Formula One for more than ten years and are trampled on your head. Maybe they will unite and show you the color. I think it is difficult for you to win the championship in this station."

Hunter said in a gloating tone.

The next second, Hunter's collar was pulled over and he almost hit Winston's chin.

"That's the worst thing I'll jump to you."

Winston's eyes drooped, as if pressing on Hunter's heart.

He let go of his hand and Hunter stumbled back half a step.

"Hey! You attacked me suddenly again!"

Winston left without hesitation.

What Hunter regrets is that Ferrari still chose a different hotel this time than Marcus.

I heard that Ferrari's hotel crossed the track and felt arrogant no matter how I thought it was.

Hunter sighed, when will Marcus be able to be generous?

"If you think that hotel is interesting, you can come and find me and sleep with me."

"I don't want to sleep with you, I'll book another one myself! It's better than your room!"

"Is that?" Winston glanced at Hunter like he was looking at a kindergarten kid.

Hunter was immediately discouraged.

During the Grand Prix, the hotels near the track will definitely be full of hotels where he can book a room!

"I also agreed to tell Miss Wilson to come to the hotel for an interview." Hunter said as he held his cell phone and looked at the text message. "I don't know if Miss Wilson lives in the same hotel as you."

"The free practice competition doesn't start that quickly. Or if you ask Marcus, just set the interview address with Audrey Wilson in my hotel."

"Hey, Miss Wilson actually told me that she wanted to do a two-person interview. She wanted to write an article about me and you. This idea is really interesting. Your team has no objection, right?"

"If I agree, they won't have any objections."

Why did Hunter forget? Winston has a great say in the Ferrari team.

When Hunter called Marcus, Marcus showed nervousness.

"Hunt...you honestly answer me a question."

“What’s the problem?”

"Did the Ferrari team poach?"

After the last time Irving poached Hunter for the Red Bull team, Marcus's vigilance has not only improved a little.
To be continued...