Chapter 38
Chloe
Naked in Manhattan—Chappell Roan
Murphy vs Carter
Third Round—Grandstand
“Breathe,” I reminded myself, my grip tightening on my racket. “Just like she taught you.”
The crowd roared around me, cheering as Hawk-Eye delivered the results of the latest challenge and my last point was declared
out. I’d been so sure that it was wrong, had watched it with my own eyes. But still the decision had come down against me.
My heart thumped harder as I fought the animalistic fear rearing its head.
I wasn’t losing. I had this.
One quick scan of the audience and I found my box, my people. Calvin sitting forward, as if he knew what I was going through.
I imagined Inés sitting next to him, her gaze on me. I could almost feel the heat of it prickling my skin.
“Keep your head,” she would say to me, and through that haze, her words cut like a knife, and it was enough to bring me back to reality, back
to the service line. And I tried again.
It was Jasmine’s serve, but I delivered a blistering backhand, the ball cutting through the air as I channeled the power of my frustration into my swing. She lunged but missed. I clenched my fist, pumping it in a restrained celebration as the score was called.
15–40
If I broke now, I’d take control, dictating the mood and pace of the match. Hardly half an hour in, and I was on top of my
game. I’d never felt more prepared, focused entirely on my singular goal.
If only the weather would cooperate.
“Rain delay,” the umpire announced, just as my opponent readied herself to serve. “Players, please collect your belongings
and proceed to the lounge. Play will resume when conditions are safe.”
Frustration surged at the interruption, stealing my momentum. For a moment, I glanced at the sky, as if unwilling to believe
it. A heavy raindrop hit me square on the forehead.
Guess he really wasn’t lying.
As the rain started in earnest, a ball boy rushed over, holding an umbrella for me. As I slung my bag over my shoulders, I
spotted Calvin in the stands, shuffling through the crowd to make a quick exit. I followed, making my way to the players’
lounge.
Behind me, I saw a shifting shadow stalking me through the tunnel. My new security. The so-called discussion with Dad had been a short one.
Inés had seemed comforted by the step-up too, but she at least understood my fears about it.
As I peered over my shoulder at Carl, the hulking man dressed smartly in a suit, I could practically hear the turning of a
key in a lock. It had taken me far too long to shake off my parents’ insecurities. I couldn’t let some out-of-control fans
set me back.
When the security firm had sat me down to walk through the new “protocols,” the scenarios they’d listed were insane, everything
from a simple kidnapping all the way through to an acid attack. I knew he was only doing his job, but still, I couldn’t help
but resent the need.
The lounge was a plush hub of activity, complete with a well-stocked canteen, large TV screens broadcasting other matches, and comfortable seating with a view of the arena.
Coaches and players clustered together in animated conversations.
Some looked distressed, their matches clearly not going to plan.
Others strolled casually to the canteen, refueling with plates of food as if the delay were a welcome break.
As I got comfy at a table, Carl found his place at the back of the room, taking a break while we chilled out. He was on duty
when we were moving from location to location, like between courts and the hotel, but inside, he could relax and take a back
seat.
Inés walked in, her confident smile lighting up the room.
“You look happy. Must be going your way,” I said as she slid a chair out from under the table and dropped into it beside me.
“You’re playing Scottie, right?” I asked. She’d felt off this morning when she left for her match, her confidence dulled,
almost as if playing her friend had her second-guessing herself.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice dipping slightly. “I was worried about it before, but the match is going well. I don’t know if
she’s in a weird headspace or if I’m actually doing something right.”
I smiled, unable to hold back the compliment. “I think you’re amazing.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze caught mine, the warmth in her eyes glowing brighter. “How’s it going for you?”
“I’m smashing it,” I teased, earning a hesitant laugh from her. “Mind the pun.”
“I never doubted it.” Her smile deepened, a knowing curve that tugged at something inside me. I wanted to lean in, close the
distance between us, feel her lips on mine again.
But a quick glance around the room reminded me why that wasn’t a good idea.
I knew the decision to keep our relationship private was necessary, but I hated having to hold myself back from her in public. But everything I saw told me it was for the best. Online, it seemed like the so-called fans had grown louder and meaner since the hotel crowd.
Inés had tried to talk to me about it in her own way, a hesitant “Have you read anything online?” I had lied, told her I was staying offline, but whenever pre-match jitters started to kick in, I’d end up doomscrolling
again.
While most of the posts were positive, some were scary, claiming that our relationship was fake and for positive PR for me.
It always ended with my phone thrown across the bed, feeling like my brain was rotting away in my skull.
My device buzzed on the table, pulling my attention towards it. I flipped it open to read the notification, a news headline,
the algorithm spurred on from my midnight scrolling.
Messy Murphy Storms Off Court in Third-Round Match
I rolled my eyes. Seriously? Stormed off? Couldn’t the press find somebody else to kick for a while?
“What is it?” Inés asked.
“Nothing,” I answered, swiping the headline away.
Before she could respond, Calvin appeared by the table, his brow furrowed. “Have your legs stopped working? What are you doing
sitting down?”
“Resting?” Inés answered.
Calvin shook his head firmly. “The rain’s heavy but it’s not going to last long. You two should be up, moving, making sure
you stay warm and ready to go.”
I grimaced, glancing at the canteen again. “Can’t I eat?”
“Sure, grab a protein bar or something,” he said, tapping the table. “Then I want laps. Around the room if you have to.”
“Laps?” I echoed.
“Come on! You’re supposed to be professionals.”
I sighed, pushing back my chair. The look Inés gave me was pure mischief as she rose beside me, and I knew I wouldn’t make it through the next ten minutes without her making this run far more interesting than Calvin intended.
We joined the queue in the bustling canteen, lines of players waiting to refuel before the rain cleared. The air buzzed with
chatter and the clatter of plates, everyone trying to stay ready for whenever play resumed.
Inés leaned towards me, her voice low and teasing. “Is he always like that?”
I nodded in reply, my eyes scanning the canteen, landing on the offering of pizza, my stomach grumbling.
“That’s kind of cute,” she said, standing on her toes to get a better view of the food options.
“If by cute, you mean annoying.”
Inés laughed as I spotted my favorite brand of protein bar, taking a second just in case the break went long.
“We’d better not sit down again,” I warned, shuffling away to another corner of the room.
“God, no.” Inés laughed. “That vein in Calvin’s forehead will pop.”
We stood off to the side, staying out of everyone’s way as we ate our snacks. It was nice to refuel but I still felt jittery,
desperate to return to this match. I had been playing well, and the rain risked me losing my rhythm.
Inés tilted her head, playful and challenging. “You have a little chocolate.” She tapped the corner of her own mouth. “Just . . .
there.”
She stretched out, her fingers brushing at the corner of my lips. And there it was again. That spark. That intensity that
burned under the surface with her.
“Got it?” My question croaked out of me.
We locked eyes for a moment, the noise around us fading, her hand lifting from my jaw. “Perfect.”
Then her lips quirked up, the heat behind her eyes unmistakable.
“You know.” Her voice dropped as her gaze left mine, scanning the room around us. Then her attention returned to me. “I know another way we could keep our adrenaline up.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said, mirroring her tone, my pulse kicking up another notch.
“I think it’d be pretty effective,” she said, her shoulder brushing against me, every bit of contact overwhelming. “Great
for keeping the heart rate up.”
My attention drifted out the window, the rain still pouring down. Even if it stopped now, the court would have to dry a little.
And they could spend a few minutes looking for us.
“A wonderful way to kill time too,” I said.
She leaned closer, as if she was telling a secret, her words for my ears only. “Really, it’s a test of durability. Hand-eye
coordination.”
“If anything, it sounds like a better use of time than what we had planned,” I said, the heat in her gaze making it hard to keep the grin off my face.
Without another word, Inés stepped away, leaving me standing alone. I noticed that Calvin and Carl were locked in a friendly
conversation, too distracted to notice if I left. I followed Inés, only able to leave a second or two of space, as if I was
on some invisible leash, completely at her mercy.
But I liked being this far gone for her. I’d never been this vulnerable with somebody. Like she’d carved out an Inés-sized
piece of my life, and now without her there I’d feel incomplete.
As soon as I turned the corner out of the lounge, I ran straight into her. Without hesitation, my hand slipped into hers,
and I pulled her down the hall, everyone else busy or distracted.
We ran until we spotted a physio room. The door opened easily, the darkened room empty.
Without another second’s hesitation, I pushed her body up against the closed door, one hand immediately finding the lock. My lips met hers in a frenzy, the need for her pulsing through my body. The thrill of her was enough, but knowing we’d snuck off for this moment, mid-match, drove me wild.
Her lips met my intensity, her hands pulling at my skintight top, as mine pushed her skirt up, fingers finding the built-in
compression shorts underneath, frustration racing as I grew more desperate for the touch of her delicate, soft skin.
My hand slipped between her legs, pressing over her shorts, growing impatient to touch her. She moaned against my mouth, the
noise urgent and breathless. Inés grabbed at my clothes as if she was trying to rip them from my body, but I wanted her too
badly to relent.
Watching her walk in with that confidence, that self-assurance that she had this match in hand had been fucking hot. Gone
was the Inés I’d first met, who’d been angry at the sight of me, desperate for a taste of her former success.
Now she was the competitor I’d known her to be, the player I’d watched.
My hands found her hips, pressing under the waistband of her skirt. She whimpered at my touch. It had only been a few hours
since we’d last been together, and I had already found myself missing the way she felt, the desperate sounds she made.
I pressed my finger hard against her core. She moved her hips, dragging herself against the touch. Her head fell back against
the door as I dragged my mouth along her neck.
“Don’t you dare leave a hickey,” she said breathlessly, her words no louder than a whisper.
I grinned against her, restraining myself from leaving yet another.
“How will they know you’re mine?” I asked as I readjusted, my hand slipping further against her. She was hot and wet to the
touch, clearly as needy as I was. I felt hell-bent on making her come, fast and hard, against this door.
After all, we had to keep that heart rate up.
“They might notice that we disappeared together.”
I hummed against her, another finger lining up, teasing at her entrance. Her pelvis bucked again, her hand clutching my arm as if to urge me deeper. But I resisted, wanting to drive her to the edge.
“Are you going to be good for me and keep it down?” I whispered. “Are you going to be able to stop yourself from screaming
when I make you come on my fingers?” I moved half an inch deeper, pushing in before pausing. She throbbed against me, every
sensation of her sending me further into overdrive.
My own core tightened with need as her hand slipped between us, pushing down my shorts. I wanted her badly, needed it as much
as the touch of her cunt against my hand. She caught me off guard, fucking down on my hand, pushing me deeper.
Her brown eyes found mine. “I wonder who can make the other come first.” The spark of competition lit like a fierce blaze
in our locked gazes.
I got wetter at the thought.
We pushed inside at the same time, and I had to muffle a moan, burying my head into the crook of her neck, Inés swearing in
Spanish under her breath.
I felt so full. We moved in sync, hips bucking against hands, thighs grazing, racing each other.
It was a competition but who would be the winner? The person to orgasm first, to use the other hardest? Or the person to force
the other over the edge, to earn that satisfaction from the other?
I drove myself into her, the feeling of her body against mine pushing the limit of my pleasure higher. She felt so fucking
good. Her hand down my shorts, her fingers deep inside me. The hot breath against my shoulder from her hushed moan.
We hurtled towards the finish line together, legs buckling under the weight of our own bodies, forcing us to use each other
to keep from collapsing to the floor, to keep our hands working in sync. Until I snapped, unable to hold back. Inés followed
me down, my fingers working every single second of the orgasm from her.
My head rested against her shoulder, sticky with sweat, her chest rising and falling rapidly below me. We stood in an awkward position, hands down each other’s shorts, her legs tangled up with mine, our bodies pressed together.
“Good girl.” She kissed my sticky forehead, her skin flushed hot against mine. “Don’t worry, you’ll win one of these days.”
I lifted my face to meet her gaze, confusion burrowing across my brow.
“You think I’m the loser here?” I said, astonished. “I don’t think so.”
She rolled her eyes, her head back against the wall. “Don’t be sore about it, that’s no way to lose.”
I withdrew my hand from her skirt, gripping at her hip. I looked her dead in the eyes. “Inés Costa, I won and you know it.”
“Get on your knees and prove it.”
So I fucking did.