Chapter 33
Inés
Kitchen Light—Xana
The walk back to our hotel was excruciatingly long, even if it was only a few blocks.
I could still taste her on my tongue, a mix of wild berries and summer fruits. The secluded corner had offered privacy as
we snuck tender kisses, my hand running up her thigh. The time at the wine bar had slipped by in a blissful haze of rich reds,
small plates of tapas to keep us relatively sober, and her.
Always her.
I glanced over at Chloe, the setting sun leaving a peach-pink glow in the sky.
“What?” she asked, her head tilting towards mine, eyes glinting.
I smiled back. “What?” I repeated back, feigning innocence.
Her eyes narrowed, but the curve of her lips only increased. “What are you looking at?”
How could I tell her I wanted to reach over and kiss her again, pull her against a wall, feel the warmth of her body under
mine? That I couldn’t believe somebody as beautiful as her wanted to be with me? I wanted to hold her hand, but in such a
public setting I didn’t dare.
Instead, I swallowed my answer. “Nothing.”
She sighed, her head tilting upwards with a grin, the sunset reflected from a window lighting up her face. “Did you have a good time?”
“It was fun watching you accidentally order a dessert wine.”
“Why is everything in another language? It’s an English menu.” A blush burned on her cheeks, a beautiful strawberry pink.
“Stop being so American,” I teased. “It was hot watching you try to speak French.”
“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?”
I laughed. “Do you even know what that means?”
“Depends.” She shrugged. “Was it still hot?”
Turning the corner towards the hotel, Chloe stopped beside me before I could answer, her attention dead ahead. I followed
her gaze, spotting a crowd of fans waiting by the main entrance. It was hard to not want to avoid the scene.
Since we’d arrived in Cincinnati, things had been a little more intense. A busier post-match press room, none of them addressing
a relationship with Chloe directly, but dancing around it, asking us about our “partnership,” how my performance had improved
since we started “working” together. The speculation in the online comment sections was easy to find.
I grumbled my answers, Zackary practically having to fight for his life with the journalists. There had been this buzz around
the court too, side glances from members of my team, from the other players. Maya commented how she could work with us at
the same time since we were always together anyway.
Selene, on the other hand, had been delighted with the online buzz around a potential relationship, eagle-eyed fans who’d
spotted our little friendship bracelet exchange, even going as far as to come up with a couple name for us. ChloNes, of all things.
Pulling me by the hand, Chloe led us through a side entrance, neither of us wanting to deal with the crowd, and took us along a passage that came out by the elevators.
She pressed the button, the wait for the elevator excruciating.
All I wanted was privacy, to be able to do all the things I needed privacy for.
The heady rush I was already feeling doubled with the tension between us, her arm brushing against mine as we waited.
Footsteps echoed across the lobby, my heart racing at the possible intrusion. I didn’t need anyone else in the elevator with
us, wanting Chloe all to myself. But as the doors opened before us, it was her hand that slipped into mine, pulling me into the carriage and pressing our floor number and the button to close the door.
I lost all self-control, closing the space between us. Pressing her body against the wall, my hand found her waist. My lips
captured hers, hungry and demanding, and she matched my intensity, her hands sliding along my jaw.
My hand slid down to her thigh, gripping desperately. I wanted to strip her out of those clothes right now and feel her soft
skin brush against mine.
The entire date had been a slow burn of heated glances and stolen looks, her hand on my leg, drawing delicate little circles
that only served to tease me with a promise she refused to deliver. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed her.
I pulled back enough to meet her eyes, her pupils blown wide. Something shifted in her gaze, an emotion I couldn’t quite put
my finger on, but it made her look even more radiant, more intoxicating.
“Did you enjoy your first wine tasting?” I asked, my hand coming up to cradle her cheek, a moment of softness as I held myself
back from pressing the emergency stop on the elevator.
A few more minutes, hold out for a few more minutes. She leaned into the touch, her skin warm against my palm. “Yes . . .” she whispered, her voice hardly audible, her gaze flicking
to my lips before meeting my eyes again. “But something tells me my evening is about to get even better.”
Heat pooled low in my stomach, intensifying as the elevator chimed, announcing our floor. The doors slid open, and without
hesitation, I took her hand, leading her down the empty hall.
“Eager much?” Chloe laughed, the sound rich and carefree, echoing softly in the corridor.
I glanced over my shoulder, catching sight of her mussed hair, the misplaced clips from our moment in the elevator.
“Mine’s closer,” I said with a grin. “And probably tidier. I imagine yours is a disaster.”
“You know me so well.”
My key card was already in my hand by the time we reached the door. Chloe’s hands snaked around my waist, distracting me from
my one job. Her fingers knotted in my skirt, inching my dress up my legs.
Dangerous. Given how all it could take was one person to step out of their room, and they’d find Chloe Murphy’s hands up my
skirt.
She discovered the thigh-high slit, her soft touch reaching skin. I shivered, almost missing the lock light turning green.
We fell inside, the door slamming shut behind us. I didn’t even make it to the light switch, instead turning around, pushing
her back against the door. My lips met hers, my hands exploring her, pulling at the clothing I was desperate to remove. She
moaned against me as I pushed hard against her, the sound reverberating into my chest.
More.
She felt like a fucking dream. Her tongue slipped against my lips, deepening the kiss as her hands pulled at my head, lacing
through my hair. She felt so good, so irresistible to touch.
Slowly, my hand moved up, gently brushing against her breast. My finger ran against her peaked nipple, my mouth leaving hers
to leave a trail of kisses along her bare collarbone. Her head rested back on the door, heavy, needy breaths leaving her,
her chest rising and falling deeply.
Watching her like this, knowing it was all for me, that she reacted this way under my touch, felt like nothing I’d experienced
before. This feeling, the connection.
Her hands pulled at my dress as if trying to rid me of it but she had spent all night teasing me, and now I wanted revenge.
“Are you okay?” I managed as I pulled her deeper into the room, my hands on her hips, keeping her close.
“More than.” She smiled sweetly, her eyes meeting mine. I took a second to enjoy it, before, with a slight lift at her waist,
I tossed her backwards onto the bed. She squealed as she hit the mattress, hair and limbs sprawled out, but still she looked
fucking perfect.
I crawled on top of her, kissing my way up her body. “You’ll tell me if that changes?” I pressed my lips to her again, unable
to cope without contact. I felt like I’d been starved.
“Only if you do the same,” she said between kisses. I nodded against her, trailing down to her bare neck. I licked and sucked
at her throat, exacting my revenge.
“You better not be doing what I think you are,” she managed between needy little gasps.
I suffocated my grin, sucking harder, feeling as her body writhed under my weight. How did one person feel so good? “Do you
know how hard it was to cover up the hickey after the airport?”
“I could still make it out on court when we practiced,” she admitted. I kissed down her collarbone, trailing slowly to savor
every inch of her.
“Did that make it hard for you to concentrate?” I murmured, reaching the edge of her top. “Seeing the mark you left on me?”
“Yes.” The word left on a gasp as I pulled at her top with my teeth, testing both its and my own limits. “But I still won.”
“Take this off.” I sat up, my hands pulling at the hem of her top. “And I’d say it was a tie.”
“Not if you were counting right,” Chloe argued, holding my gaze as she peeled the material over her head, revealing the sculpted,
perfect length of her torso. Every sports bra I’d caught sight of her in, every bikini had shown so much and never enough,
always leaving me wanting more.
And now with her half naked underneath me, I felt like burning all her clothes so she’d never be able to get dressed again.
Dipping back down, my mouth returned to the base of her neck, her back arching up to meet my touch.
She was so eager, so wild, her hands pulling at my hair, guiding me where she wanted to feel me.
It only drove me further, enjoying how she used me.
“Are we really going to argue about this now?” I asked. “Because there are better uses for my mouth.”
She smiled devilishly. “You were right. It was a tie.”
“Wow, that easy?”
“Try horny.”
I kissed down to her breast, taking her hardened tip in my mouth, rolling it with my tongue. Every noise I drew from her felt
like both a reward and a torment.
My hand found the top button of her jeans, pushing the zip down. I needed her completely bare, like I couldn’t stand the waiting
anymore. I’d spent an entire year waiting. For her to call, for us not to hate each other, for her to want me back. And now
I had that, I refused to waste a single moment of it.
“It must have been so hard for you, catching a glance of the hickey,” I teased. “I know it will be for me. It already is,