Chapter 21
Rowan
Two Years Ago - London
There’s just something about London that makes me feel like more than a tourist. Maybe it’s the people and how much they get into the championship.
Everywhere I go—the pub, the hotel lobby, the airport, people recognize me. They wish me good luck, they ask me to sign their hats. I’ve never thought of myself as famous, but I guess the job does come with some perks.
The grass courts at Wimbledon are my absolute favorite.
Maggie and I practiced all morning in preparation for the quarter-final tomorrow.
We’ve spent the last two weeks together, visiting some of our favorite places in London and participating in the four rounds in our singles categories.
The journey won’t be over until the end of the week, when we can hopefully make it through the semi-finals and win the championship in the final.
“What do you think I need to work on the most?” I ask her, taking a sip of water. The weather is nice and pleasant, but the dark clouds are moving fast above us.
Maggie studies me, head tilted, her ponytail swishing in the back. “Maybe your backhand?”
“Really?” I ask.
“Honestly, Rowan, I think you’re doing great. You’re fast on the grass courts, it’s where you shine the brightest. Just keep your head straight and you’ll win in no time.”
I smile and nod, picking up both our bags and slinging them over one shoulder. When we get close to the building where the locker rooms are, we see a swarm of reporters and paparazzi waiting for people to come out.
Maggie and I share a look and she scowls in their direction. It’s important to her that we avoid the media when it comes to practices and being out in public, so I think of a solution quickly.
“What if we just made a run for the hotel?” I suggest.
“I’m sure there are plenty of reporters loitering around the hotel too.”
“What if we used a back entrance? I met some staff members this morning, I’m sure they’ll help us.”
“We could give it a shot.” She smiles and I need to physically hold myself back so I don’t kiss her.
We start a brisk walk towards the hotel as I call the receptionist. “Hi, this is Rowan Amory. I need to ask you for a favor. Any chance you can get me in the hotel through a back entrance so I can avoid the media?”
“Absolutely sir, just take the back alley and walk up to the staff door. There’s a doorbell that you can ring and I’ll make sure someone is there to guide you to your floor.”
“Thank you so much, Marcy. I owe you big time.”
“No problem at all, best of luck tomorrow.”
I hang up and grin over at Maggie right as the rain starts. We both look up at the same time and smile like fools at each other as we start running down the streets of London, in our tennis gear.
“This is the alley,” I say, grabbing Maggie’s hand with my free one. I pull her along with me and she giggles as she keeps up the pace.
“What would we do without your ability to make friends everywhere you go?” she says as we reach the door and I push the button.
I turn and take her in fully. She’s drenched from the rain, the water droplets running down her arms and chest. She wipes some off her face and I can’t hold myself back anymore.
I drop the bags at our feet and grab her waist, twisting us around so her back hits the side of the building.
I cover her with my body and lick the rain right off her flushed skin, from her cleavage all the way up the column of her throat.
When I get to her mouth, she inhales shakily and I sink my teeth into her bottom lip, tugging just enough to get her to react.
And that reaction is immediate. Her hands fly up to my hair and she tugs at the root as she kisses me back.
Hard. Punishing. Our wet clothes stick to each other and my hands find her ass, kneading it.
Maggie moans against my mouth and I pull back abruptly, hearing noises behind the door. I quickly readjust myself and pick up the bags once more.
“What—” Maggie says but gets cut off as the door opens and Marcus, one of the waiters I met this week, grins at me and waves us in.
“You guys are soaked, hurry inside,” he says, grabbing some nearby towels and handing them over. I use one to wrap around Maggie’s shivering shoulders and the other to wipe both our faces.
She looks at me with not just admiration, but so much lust. I need to get us to one of our rooms as fast as possible.
“Marcus, any chance there’s an elevator that can get us to our floor quickly?”
“Yes, sir, right this way. There’s a service elevator that housekeeping uses. I can use my badge to get you in.”
We enter the elevator and Marcus taps his badge on the key reader, saying, “Now just push the floor number, and you’re all set.”
“Thank you,” Maggie says, clutching the towel around her shoulders.
“Thanks, man,” I say, handing him a hundred pound bill and pressing the button for the eighth floor. As soon as the doors close, I drop the bags again and pull Maggie into my arms.
Instead of a passionate kiss, I rub my hands all over her shoulders and arms, trying to warm her back up. “You’re still shivering.”
“It’s the air conditioning, I think. A nice, hot shower will help.”
“Good,” I say, hugging her tight and kissing the side of her head.
“You could join me in the shower,” she says, tilting her head and brushing her lips with mine.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm, something about sharing body heat.” She smirks and raises her eyebrows at me.
“I don’t think that applies to the shower.” I laugh and kiss her once more right as the elevator dings.
We break some sort of record with how fast we get from the elevator into the shower in my hotel room.
The hot water and steam warms us right back up and I take my time lathering soap on the sponges.
Maggie gets impatient waiting for me to make a move and she grabs them out of my hands, dropping them to the shower floor.
“Now they’re gonna be dirty,” I mumble.
“Just like you,” she teases, pushing me until my back hits the tile.
I smirk and lean in to kiss her, but move my head at the last second and press my lips to the sensitive spot below her ear. Maggie blows out a frustrated breath, but the more I kiss and suck and lick, the more she relaxes in my arms.
Her fingernails follow a path from my chest to my pelvis and each teasing touch drives me crazy.
My hands become more possessive, fingers digging into her waist, pinching her nipples.
My mouth follows a trail of water along her jaw until I finally capture her lips with my own.
Once I do, Maggie’s hands stop teasing and she takes my cock in her hands, gripping me at the base with one hand and running her thumb over my slit with the other.
“How is it possible for it to always be this good?” I ask between kisses, thrusting my hips into her hands, but letting her control the pace for the most part.
“Fuck if I know,” she stammers as my fingers dig into the soft flesh of her ass as I spread her open and inch closer and closer to her pussy.
“You know what I think?” I whisper, biting her earlobe right as my middle finger finds her entrance. Wet and hot and ready for me.
“What?” she asks shakily, her hands working me over, making me lose my train of thought.
“I think—” I say, plunging two fingers inside her and capturing her gasp with my lips. “I think we excel at everything. Together.” Her hands squeeze my cock and I do my best to hold myself together. I twist us around so her back is to the tile, the shower spraying us head on.
With her lips on mine, I lift her leg, locking it around my waist and position myself at her entrance. I slowly push inside and touch my nose to hers. “Do you agree?”
Maggie’s blue eyes swirl with emotion as she meets my gaze. “I do.”
I blow out a breath of relief and go in for a bruising kiss, burying myself deep inside her. My hips thrust off rhythm as Maggie’s hands alternate between tugging at my hair, raking down my skin, and digging into my lower back.
All I can think about is that I want to do everything with her. Forever.
The next day, after we both win our respective quarter-finals, we head out to one of our favorite pubs. This one is filled with locals and the manager is a nice guy I met two years ago who always reserves a more secluded booth in the back for me.
Jacob, who for all intents and purposes is one of my biggest rivals, asks me to get together for dinner and I invite him to join us. He knows Maggie and I are friends, but he definitely doesn’t know about our agreement, and I move across the booth from Mags before he arrives.
Maggie is wearing a dark red dress that shows more cleavage than usual.
Not that I’m complaining, I get a good view either way.
Neither of us are drinking or staying out too late before our finals, and yet she’s got a little flush to her skin.
She looks so beautiful, wearing nothing but some mascara and dark red lipstick to match her dress. No jewelry, no other accessories.
Lately, I’ve been thinking more and more about what it would be like if we were actually a couple. I wonder if it’s something she would consider in the future.
Before I can bring any of it up, Jacob appears at the table with a bright smile on his face.
“What’s that face for?” I tease.
“Oh mate, I’m just practicing my smile for when I steal the championship from right under your feet,” my rival says in his charming English accent.
Jacob Hughes has been called a heartthrob by many women. And men. And tabloids. Well, my point is, that everyone loves him and his playboy with a heart of gold persona. Even his one night stands have nothing bad to say about him.
I have to admit that he’s incredibly attractive—six foot two frame, lean, broad shoulders, jet black hair and blue eyes that border on turquoise—he’s a fucking catch.
“Careful now, you still have the semi-finals to get through. Don’t jinx it,. I smirk.
“When have I ever not made it to the finals?” he scoffs.