Twenty-Four Dominic
Twenty-Four
Dominic
I didn’t expect to find myself in Teagan’s bed. But I’m happy the passion that exploded between us a week ago was no fluke. The fire burns as hot as it did when we were younger. Maybe more so now because we know what we want and how we want it. Teagan is more vocal. She’s a grown-ass woman in full control of her sexuality, and it’s a turn-on. I love her self-confidence.
We spent the rest of yesterday in bed pleasing each other. It was thrilling, but exhausting. We fell asleep somewhere around dawn, and I’m just now waking up. The clock on her nightstand reads 10:00 a.m. When was the last time I slept in like this? Even though I’ve been on hiatus, my body’s alarm wakes me up around 5:00 a.m. telling me it’s time to shower and get on the court. But today? I’m so content lying in her arms that I’ve lost track of time.
Teagan looks peaceful and utterly adorable. The issues that have plagued us about our past don’t seem quite so insurmountable when she’s in repose, but I know this truce won’t last. This is an illusion, a moment out of time, until reality comes knocking at our door. The tournament will be over soon and I’ll have to go back on the tour circuit. Meanwhile, Teagan will return to her life.
The media has no idea about our renewed interest in one another, and she wants to keep it that way. I wince, recalling again that she blames me for not standing by her after the shitstorm when she accosted me at the US Open twelve years ago and lambasted me in front of everyone for leaving her. Neither of us had any idea my mic was still on after giving an interview earlier that afternoon. Teagan lit into me for being a liar and insincere about my feelings.
She said I never loved her, which wasn’t true. It’s because I loved her that I walked away and listened to her father. And she let me. Teagan didn’t fight for me either, yet she puts the blame all on me. She doesn’t know what her father did. I’m not about to tell her and blow up her world. That’s why what’s between us now can be nothing more than a temporary ceasefire.
But until it’s over I’ll enjoy every moment.
* * *
Later that afternoon, after another round of erotic sex that’s sometimes slow and other times fast and hard, we make our way downstairs to her kitchen, where I watch Teagan’s skills behind the stove.
“If I recall,” I say, perching myself atop one of her tufted bar stools in my jeans, “you didn’t even know how to boil an egg.”
Teagan laughs. “I remember that. I tried making you some protein and the eggs were still runny.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t even fake eating them no matter how much I tried,” I respond. “When did you learn how to cook?”
“After everything went down, I was in a bad place. I didn’t know where I was going and spent a couple of months with Egypt after she finished culinary school. She cooked for me and—” she flips over a vegetable omelet in the small skillet with little to no effort “—I learned some basics.” She sprinkles some cheese over the top, folds the omelet in half, then slides it on the plate in front of me.
“This looks delicious,” I say.
“Why, thank you,” Teagan says with a flourish and a bow. Her silk robe drapes open, giving me a tantalizing view of her round, pert breasts. I can’t wait to have them in my mouth. In the meantime, she rises and heads back to the stove to finish making her omelet. Once hers is done, she joins me at the bar, but I’ve already demolished mine.
She chuckles as she tucks into her meal. “Someone was really hungry.”
“Because someone wore me out,” I reply, “but I’m not complaining. Now that I’m refueled, I’m ready for round two.”
“As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, perhaps we could find another way to burn some energy.”
My eyebrows quirk. “I’m listening.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Dominic. I thought we could play. As you’ve said on multiple occasions, I need practice if we’re going to win doubles at the tournament.”
“We’ll win,” I state confidently.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Teagan replies. “You never stopped playing. I did.”
“Why? You loved the game.” I remember the times Teagan practiced for hours before and after training sessions.
“Loved,” she responds, “past tense. Once I could no longer compete, I couldn’t bear to play or watch a game.”
“And now?”
“I’m remembering how much I enjoyed it, how it kept me on my toes, how alert I have to be to react to my opponent. I didn’t realize how much I missed having tennis in my life.”
I’m pleased and give her a broad smile. “I’m happy to hear that. You were and are a gifted player. Don’t let anyone stop you from pursuing your passion.”
“What about you? Do you still love the game like you once did?”
“I do, but it’s evolved over the years. I still love the sport, but I feel as if there has to be something more for me. For so long, my life has revolved around tennis. I need another outlet. I have my own clothing line and that’s been fun, but the thing that’s brought me the most joy off the court has been starting my own not-for-profit organization, Fletcher Cares.”
“But…”
How can she know there’s a but ? We haven’t been together in years. Yet somehow Teagan has always been able to read me.
“I need other challenges. I suppose it’s why I’ve agreed to support Justice in his new venture. He wants to run his own sports management business to help junior and college players who don’t get the same access to resources like we professionals do.”
“I love that idea, Dominic!” Teagan sounds as enthused as I do. “And here I thought you were just a pretty face.” She strokes my jaw. The gesture is light and teasing, but I feel connected to her, like I used to when we were together.
I push down the nostalgia and pull her out of her seat and in between my legs. She comes willingly, and I lean forward to kiss her neck. Her head lolls backward, giving me greater access, and I suck on her sensitive spot. Her knees seem to weaken, but I hold her up, circling my arms around her waist and bringing her closer to my mouth.
Teagan moans and I push aside the silk robe to reveal one of her delicate shoulders. I lightly nip at the skin and she cries out, clutching my thighs. If I don’t stop this now, we’ll be back in bed and not at the court, which is what Teagan wants. I force myself to pull back and when I do, she’s shocked. I’m surprised too, but I am capable of putting my needs on hold to help her.
“You wanted to practice,” I say. “If I don’t stop now, you’ll be on this countertop.”
A blush creeps up her face and I can see her remembering how I devoured her on this very surface.
“I think that’s a good idea,” she says. “Let’s go.”
Getting this opportunity with Teagan to bring closure to our past is unexpected, but now that it’s here, I don’t intend to waste a single minute.
I hope the truth about why I really walked away from her never comes out.