Chapter 6
Maggie
February - Australia
Something pulls me out of the best sleep I’ve had in a while. I mumble something incoherently and squeeze my pillow tighter. The pillow chuckles and brushes its lips against my forehead.
Blearily, I open my eyes and squint, finding Rowan gazing down at me. That’s not a pillow I’m squeezing, but it is in fact, Rowan’s bicep.
I frown, though I don’t loosen my grip on him. “I thought you had plans last night, when did you come in?”
“Late,” he whispers, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind my ear. “You don’t remember? We chatted briefly.”
I shake my head, trying to recall a conversation, but I was too out of it.
I’m used to early mornings and even earlier bedtimes, so each time we celebrate any of our wins, I always end up more tired than usual.
That, and being in my thirties now doesn’t help one bit.
I’ll have one margarita, maybe two, and then feel the hangover for days.
“Sorry, I would have waited for you, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.”
“That’s okay, we have most of the morning to ourselves, you know,” Rowan says with a grin.
It’s the kind of smile that brings out the dimples in his cheeks, making him look younger.
Boyish. He blinks down at me and I can’t help but admire his pretty eyelashes, or his mussed up hair that looks darker than his usual dirty blond.
The early morning light filters through the curtains, giving me glimpses of his chiseled jaw and naked chest. I bite my bottom lip and run a finger over his collarbone, reveling in the little shiver he gives me.
“Maybe we should take advantage of it, then,” I say in my most sultry voice.
Rowan’s pupils widen as he leans in, cupping my jaw and kissing me hungrily.
He tastes like mint and I smile, thinking back on all the times he’s woken up before me and brushed his teeth before coming back to bed and kissing me senseless.
“I should shower, and brush my teeth,” I say between kisses, but Rowan rolls on top of me, trapping me under his lean body. I grip his bicep right as he rolls his hips against mine and a little moan escapes me.
“Later, I’ll help you,” he says, peppering kisses down my neck and to the tops of my breasts.
“I fucking love this nightgown,” he all but growls against my nipple, pulling the material down with his teeth to expose me.
His tongue slowly circles my already hard nipple and I arch into him, gripping his shoulder with one hand and fisting the sheets with the other.
His long fingers brush against my pussy and my breathing grows shallower.
“I know,” I admit, squirming in anticipation under him as he continues to kiss his way down my body, kicking off the covers in the process. When Rowan bunches my nightgown around my middle, I run my hands through his soft hair.
“Did you wear this for me, Mags?” he asks with a smirk, pumping a finger inside me, finding me already wet.
I swallow hard, not wanting to admit that, yes, I did in fact wear it for him.
The last time he saw me in it was on our trip to Italy last year, when he went down on his knees, crawled over to me, and made me see stars for literal hours.
The night I realized that I might want more from this little arrangement of ours.
Instead of telling him this, I roll my eyes and tighten my hold on his hair, tugging gently at the roots.
Rowan’s gaze turns molten and he dips his head, wrapping his lips around my already swollen bud.
He sucks once, twice before he flattens his tongue against me, knowing exactly the kind of pressure I need.
He’s looking at me with such desire that it knocks the breath right out of me.
It’s always been this way between us. Every single time.
It’s not just the intensity that brings our chemistry to the next level, but it’s the fact that it’s him.
I’ve always struggled being in the eye of the public, first being the daughter of a prominent tennis coach, then getting caught in the middle of my parent’s messy and public divorce, and now as a professional player myself.
I’ve learned to closely guard my secrets out of fear of scrutiny.
But there’s one person I trust with all my secrets. My best friend.
Except the biggest secret of all is one I’ve kept to myself for longer than I like to admit. Any moment now it might burst out of me. I don’t know if I’m ready to face it.