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Biting her lip, Taylor watched Mac’s body move. In the water, her back muscles were somehow more defined. Every curve and bump was perfectly sculpted. It was no wonder that Mac could hit so many intense serves. And in that moment, Taylor couldn’t stop herself from imagining how Mac’s back would look if she was thrusting into Taylor’s folds. They would strain with each pump, giving Taylor plenty to grab onto.

The thought alone made Taylor feel like she could cross her peek. She refocused on how it felt to have Mac’s clit under her fingers. Pressing her fingers in deeper, Taylor listened as Mac’s moans bounced off the tiled room.

It wasn’t long before Mac’s breathing grew ragged and her moans louder.

Right when Taylor thought she might go over the line, Taylor released the pressure and pulled her hand out from the shorts.

“You fucking asshole.” Mac laughed as she rubbed her face. “This was such a mean idea.” Mac turned around and planted a kiss on Taylor’s face.

“And?” Taylor smiled, melting in Mac’s bulging arms.

Mac rolled her eyes. “It felt really good. But if it fucks with my game, you owe me like $200,000.”

Holding out her hand, Taylor winked. “Deal.”

“Shit.” Taylor groaned as she missed another shot.

From their stand, the umpire called the point for Sandra Osbourne.

When she got back to the baseline, Taylor stretched her legs a little. But as she did, she felt her knees loosen too far. She was wobbly today.

She rubbed her forehead as she thought about the night before.Maybe it was a bad idea.Not only did she feel slower in her semifinals match, but she also couldn’t get Mac out of her mind. The last week and a half had been a decent detox. She was playing with a fair amount of mental clarity.

But today, all she could think about was Mac’s straining back, the way she smelled, the way she smiled.

Sandra showed the ball as she prepared to serve.

Taylor took a peek at the scoreboard behind her head. The first set had gone 4 - 6 in Sandra’s favor. This was only the second set but they were stuck at 4 - 5. Even now, the score was locked up at 40 - 40.

If Sandra managed two more points, Taylor would be out of Wimbledon.

As the ball soared over, Taylor scrambled to the service box to meet it. With a tremendous shout, Taylor glided the ball back.

Each spectator’s heads swiveled as they tried to keep up.

The shot was too easy for Sandra to return. She picked up its speed, sending it to Taylor’s far corner.

Crap.Taylor’s body lagged behind her mind. She got to it just in time to smack it back, albeit imprecisely. As soon as it left her side, she knew what Sandra would do.

Turning on her heels, Taylor tried to make it to the opposite side of the court. But Sandra predicted her movements too well. Instead of sailing it to the far corner, Sandra gently tapped the ball across the net. It bounced on the grass just a few feet from the divider.

Taylor skidded to a halt as the point was called.

“Advantage, Ms. Osbourne.”

As she trudged to the baseline, Taylor watched Kim shake her head and leave the match. Kim hated watching Taylor’s losing points. Not because she felt bad – just because it was disappointing.

Taylor did a few bunny hops. If she couldn’t warm herself up now, the match was over. When Sandra readied her serve, Taylor bent her knees and got low. She squeezed her stomach in and prepared to send back all of her remaining power.

“Match point.” The umpire called out.

With a yelp, Sandra served the ball.

Taylor ran to meet it, giving it her best shot. But as she did, her hand slipped on her sweaty racket and pointed down a few extra degrees.

As soon as Taylor heard thethunkof the ball, she knew it would fall into the net.

Her shoulders dropped as the ball made an anti-climactic swish at the center of the court.