Page 24

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tension …

“ L et’s just call it what it is, Joel – a lucky fluke,” I said as he unlocked the door to our villa. Joel snorted.

“What’s with the negative attitude, Stink?” he asked. “You’re in the final! You’ve gotten too far into this tournament for it just to be luck.”

I shrugged. I’d been in a bad mood the whole time we’d been in Indian Wells. I should have been on top of the world – I was in my first ever final of a WTA Premier tournament. That was something to be ecstatic about. And I’d managed to beat out a few much higher ranked players on the way.

Well, I was happy about the place in the final. Happy and terrified. I’d never felt so much pressure to perform in my life. But that wasn’t what was making me grumpy.

It was my dreams. Sometimes I woke up, drenched in sweat with that familiar gasping for breath sensation.

Other times I managed to wake up before the dream turned into a nightmare.

And that was just as bad – waking up gasping and drenched in a very different way, my body throbbing, clenching around nothing.

Every time it was the same. I was in my apartment, lying on my lounge, the weight of …him … on me. His tongue in my mouth, his knees pressing my thighs apart, hands on my breasts, sliding inside my bra …

Just as things started getting really exciting, I would roll to the side and I’d see what was lying on the floor.

Sightless eyes glaring accusingly at me.

Blood.

Gaping mouth …

As if my life wasn’t complicated enough without my all too familiar nightmare taking on the added element of a hot sex dream about … him.

I knew that Joel had heard the noises that I was making in my sleep – the moans of pleasure, the sudden, hacking gasps for air.

One night I had woken up and I swear he had been sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me.

But I had been so out of it that I hadn’t known whether that was just a hallucination or not. He hadn’t said anything to me about it.

Living on basically no quality sleep, it was a minor miracle that I had made it to the final. But if anything, the dreams had helped me throw myself into my tennis in my waking hours. Anything to distract me from thinking about …

I was so used to the nightmare by now that the horror of it faded immediately as I woke. The sex dream though … I was constantly on a razor edge of arousal and I felt like there was nothing I could do about it.

Even surrounded by the virile masculinity of male tennis players, there was no way I would approach any of them.

I could feel their smirks following me as I moved around the players’ areas.

I heard the not so quiet comments about things I’d done with Pete.

I might be DTF, but I wasn’t prepared to humiliate myself to get it from any of those arseholes.

Speaking of Pete, he was doing his best to avoid me.

I’d simply walked past him in the players’ dining room just the day before, and as soon as he’d spotted me, he’d excused himself from the table where he was dining with a couple of other players and his coach, and had ducked very swiftly to the men’s room. He’d still been in there when I left.

“So, Stink, I want you to be as relaxed as possible for your final,” Joel said, snapping me back to the present. He eyed me up and down, my skin warming under his appraisal. “You definitely need to work off some tension.”

“Yes, Joel,” I muttered, trying to walk past him. He gripped my arm to stop me.

“You know what’s great for relieving tension?”

I threw him a scornful look. “Let me guess, a throbbing cock inside me?”

“Sometimes it’s like we share a brain, Stink.” Joel’s eyes went hooded and he grazed his knuckles across my lower stomach. I gritted my teeth.

Being near Joel was driving me nuts. I could still feel that spot on my neck where he’d kissed me in Dubai, as if he’d tattooed me there.

Every time he touched me – even a congratulatory hug after a win – was setting me off.

I was constantly over-sensitised. Brushing arms with a stranger in the supermarket would probably have me panting at this point.

I knew exactly what I needed. Joel was partially right.

I needed an orgasm. Normally I had no problem getting myself off, but here, in a small apartment, with no lock on the bedroom door, and Joel who liked to walk in without knocking?

That was a problem. Maybe I could take a nice ‘peaceful’ bath … behind the lockable bathroom door.

“Where are you going?” Joel asked as I ducked towards the hallway.

“Uh, just taking a bath!” I replied breezily.

Joel eyed me suspiciously. “You literally just had a shower back at the stadium,” he reminded me. “You’re not that dirty, Stink.”

I shrugged, hating that my cheeks were flaming. Joel raised an eyebrow.

“Well, sorry if a quick rinse off with my trainer watching on isn’t exactly peaceful. You just told me you wanted me to be as relaxed as possible for tomorrow,” I snapped and Joel’s lips quirked up at the corners. I was on fire. He one hundred percent knew what I was about to do.

“Fair enough. Go to town, Mel!” he said mildly, smirking. I escaped before he could make another dirty comment .

My hands shook as I ran the bath. Was I shaking with nerves, or … anticipation? I was a total deviant, because suspecting Joel knew what was happening in this room somehow made it more exciting.

Ew. But apparently not ‘ew’ enough to stop me.

I stepped into the water and sank down with a sigh, barely submerging before my hand slid down my belly and between my legs.

Jesus, I was so wet. Even in the water, I could feel how slippery I was. My finger glided over my clit, and I gasped to find it incredibly swollen and sensitive.

Yep, it had been far too long since I’d taken care of myself like this.

My fingers circled my clit, heat and aching flooding my lower body.

“Mmm,” I moaned, taking a finger and sliding it inside myself. My slick pussy gripped my finger, and I thrust harder, adding a second.

I spread my knees wider, as wide as I could make them in the confines of the bathtub.

I arched my back, and the cool air hit my tight nipples. I gasped, reaching one hand up to pinch at a wet peak. The heel of my palm ground my clit even as I continued to finger myself.

My mind began replaying my erotic dreams, adding even more detail to the scene. I let my eyes slide closed, biting on my lip as I pictured … him … muscles rippling as he loomed over me. They were his fingers inside me, his palm rocking on my aching clit.

As I pinched at my nipple, in my mind his teeth were grazing across it. My insides were already coiling, tightening …

“ Ooh !” I cried out as my orgasm crashed over me, my body pulsing and quaking with the intensity of it.

I lay, panting in the warm water, coming to terms with what had been the strongest climax I’d ever given myself. I didn’t want to think too hard about the reason for that.

“Ungh!” a deep, pleasured voice groaned through the wall beside me. My heart stopped. That sound had come through the wall the bathroom shared with Joel’s bedroom …

Holy shit! Was he in there going to town on himself?

Without my permission, my fingers started massaging my hypersensitive flesh once more until I was panting and rocking my hips to my fingers, and biting my lip as I came a second time …

Eventually I dragged myself from the water and towelled off, wincing at how tender my skin was. I checked my reflection in the mirror; hopefully I could pass the hectic flush on my chest off as a too-hot bath.

I wrapped the towel around me and unlocked the bathroom door, stepping out into the hallway to head back to my room to dress.

Joel’s bedroom door opened at the same time, and he sauntered out, eyes bright, a satisfied smile fixed on his face.

“Can you believe how thin the walls are in this place?” he commented as he let his gaze rove over my towel clad body, my flushed chest.

“I’m feeling much more relaxed now, how about you?” he added, taking a step towards me. I stepped back, but the hallway was narrow, and I was up against the wall, the heat from his too-close body making me feel like he was touching me when he wasn’t.

Damn him! I shouldn’t let him get to me like this!

Taking a breath, I wracked my brain for a witty retort, but all my brain conjured up was the sound he’d made on the other side of the wall … and the sudden realisation that he would have been able to hear all the noises I made too.

The tension in my body was gone, but my brain was whirring.

“I’m taking a walk,” I said, scuttling into my room to dress.

The resort we were staying at was a combination of traditional suites, which were contained in a ten-level tower, and villas, arranged around tropical gardens that wound around the pool and the tennis court and the little restaurants that dotted the grounds.

I realised as I caught a whiff of sizzling steak while walking past one of the restaurants in the dusk light, that I was starving.

Gee, could that possibly be due to the two mind-blowing orgasms you just gave yourself ?

I took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts aside. I couldn’t think about what had just happened in our villa or I’d go crazy.

I turned a corner, slamming straight into a bare chest. A broad, hairy bare chest. I looked up, into the shocked eyes of Pete Levine, obviously on his way back from the pool.

Fan-fucking-tastic!

“Hi, Mel! Uh, congratulations on your spot in the final! I bet that feels really good,” he said nervously.

“It would … if people were more interested in my tennis, and less interested in my sex life – thanks to you !” I snarled.

Pete put his hands up, warding me off. “Mel, I can explain.”

I took a deep breath, and really looked at him. I expected to feel the fire of rising rage. I expected my hands to itch to claw their way into him and tear him to shreds.

But I felt … nothing.

“You know what, Pete? I just can’t be bothered. You’re not worth my anger.” I turned and walked away.