Page 33 of Drop Shot (On the Court #2)

WHIMSY

The music is too loud, and I don’t understand the lyrics, but Ebba’s bouncing around and dancing and having the time of her life, so I guess that’s what really matters.

Club attire in France is nothing like America.

If I had to categorize it, I would call it elevated business casual. It’s a cross between sexy and sophisticated. You’re not going to find women here in bright colors or with scandalous necklines. The style is more reminiscent of just leaving work and unbuttoning a bit.

The black skirt I wear is short, but not indecently so, paired with a half-buttoned white shirt with a silky black top beneath. My hair is twisted up and away from my face, pinned into place but without looking too done.

Ebba’s wearing a fitted black dress that comes almost to her knees with a pair of black heels that make the exposed part of her calves look killer.

“We should get a drink,” she announces suddenly, hands latching around my wrist.

I let her drag me to the bar and let her handle ordering, since like her brother, she can speak French.

She secures our cocktails and passes me one. I take a sip and even though I don’t really like alcohol it’s the perfect blend of sweet and sharp.

Swaying her hands to the beat of the song, Ebba leads us over to an empty standing bar top table.

“Thanks for coming out with me. I know you don’t really like this kind of thing.”

“Are you feeling better about everything?” I ask, sipping at my drink. I better slow down, though. Since I’m not used to drinking it doesn’t take much to have me feeling out of sorts.

“With Keaton?” She purses her lips at my nod. “I’m still mad at him. We’ll see how I feel when he gets here.”

I secretly hope she dumps his ass. He’s not good enough for her. That much is obvious to anyone.

We watch the crowd, nursing our drinks, when a group of guys separates from the crowd and heads toward us. Ebba perks up at the attention, but I want to hide away.

Two of them approach us. The one on the left looks at me with a confident air.

“Are you American?” he asks me.

I nod. “What gave me away?”

He rubs his jaw, a silver ring glinting on his index finger. “Americans are very … noticeable.”

It feels like that’s a bad thing, but he’s looking at me with interest so who knows.

The other guy speaks with Ebba, surprised when she responds in French.

The friend who’s standing with me arches a brow with interest. “Do you also speak French?”

I shake my head. “No, sorry.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but Ebba bumps my elbow to get my attention. “I’m going to dance. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I wave away her concern. “Go have fun.”

“I’m Gabriel,” the man chatting with me says as his friend disappears into the crowd with mine. “You are?”

“Whimsy.”

“Whimsy,” he repeats with a laugh. “Is that a joke or…?”

“No, it’s my name.” I reach to fiddle with my hair, but remember that it’s pinned up and let my hand drop back down.

“Interesting name. Whimsy, would you like to dance?”

I swear it happens in slow motion—the way the air changes around me, grows thicker, and I know he’s behind me before I see or hear him. A heavy arm settles around my shoulders, fingers dangerously close to grazing the top of my right breast.

“Sorry, this one’s taken.”

Gabriel raises his hands and doesn’t say anything else, just heads off to find another dance partner I assume.

“What are you doing here?” I turn to face Elias, my hand landing on his stomach. It’s hard beneath the gauzy white fabric of his button-down shirt. “I figured you were going back to the apartment to rest.”

“I should have.” He brings me even closer and a startled gasp flies out of me. “But I couldn’t stand the thought of you in a club with other men looking at you.”

My heart jolts. “Are you jealous?”

He lowers his head until his lips are right at my ear. “You have no fucking idea, Whimsy. I wanted to punch that guy just for talking to you and there was a whole table between you.”

I laugh, pushing at his chest lightly so he’ll move back and give me space to breathe properly. When he’s that close I lose all sense of focus. “Be serious.”

His gaze his steady on me. “I am being serious.”

I shake my head. “What is going on?”

He cups my cheek, leaning in again. “What’s going on, is I know this is fake, but for some fucking reason you have me all tied up in knots.”

He pulls away and stares me down. His tongue slips out, moistening his lips.

“Me?” I ask stupidly.

His body shakes with laughter I can’t hear. “Yes, you.”

“But why?” I blurt.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. His fingers graze my cheek.

I’m baffled. Elias hasn’t spared me a second glance in the years I’ve been his assistant and essentially run his life. We’ve always been strictly professional—except for my crush I don’t dare to admit to, at least not yet.

His confession feels sudden, but at the same time, if I’m honest with myself, he has been looking at me differently. With a want and desire that can’t be faked.

But this is Elias—he’s always had a different girl on his arm. He’s never dated just one girl in the time I’ve known him and I … I can’t be another girl discarded by him. I know myself, and my heart couldn’t take it.

He must sense me shutting down, because he says, “Forget I said anything. Let’s dance.”

“Are you sure? I’m fine to just stand here.”

He holds his hand out to me, fingers wiggling. “I came all the way here. Dance with me, Whim. Please?”

Crap.

I can’t resist him when he gives me the puppy dog eyes.

Sliding my hand into his, I let him guide me onto the dancefloor. It’s warmer here from all the bodies. Elias turns me around so my back is to his front, his hands firm on my hips. My heart skips a beat at the touch.

“Come on, Clever Girl,” he murmurs against my ear. “Let’s show them what we’ve got.”

Despite my racing heart, I close my eyes and let go. My hips move to the music, further guided by his hands. I reach up behind me, twining an arm around his neck.

I swear I hear him say, “You smell so good.” But the music is loud, and people are singing along so I convince myself I imagined it.

One song bleeds into another. I find myself closing my eyes and letting my body flow to the beat of the music.

His fingers slide lower, past my hips to find the hem of my skirt.

I gasp at the feel of his fingers on my thighs.

He drags them slightly beneath the hem, fingers rubbing in slow, smooth circles.

“Elias.” His name is a breathy gasp. I doubt he even hears it.

My thoughts are a tangled, jumbled mess. I’ve had to lock my stupid crush away for fear of it messing up what we’re trying to accomplish here. But then he shows up here telling me that I’m the one that has him tangled in knots.

His lips graze my neck and I lean my head back against his chest, slowly blinking my eyes open to find him watching me with a half-lidded expression.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him what he’s thinking, but I’m scared I don’t want to know the answer.

With one hand he reaches up to graze the length of my jaw. My stomach somersaults at the feel of his thumb there, my core aching for friction. It takes everything in me not to squeeze my thighs together, but he’ll know what he’s doing to me if I do.

It’s then that I realize it’s not my thighs rubbing I should be worried about, but instead the thick press of his erection pressing incessantly behind me.

Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.

I jerk away and I know my whole face is probably red, but thankfully he doesn’t see as I scurry hurriedly away and back to the bar.

“Water,” I beg the first bartender I see. “Water, please.”

He slides a glass over to me a moment later with a questioning gaze, but I’m gone before he can ask me anything. I’m sure Elias is right behind me and I’m not ready. I need more time to gather myself.

He was hard .

Turned on by what we were doing.

By me and my body.

The other time it happened I chalked it up to morning wood and nothing more. But this? There’s no denying what was going on out there.

I gulp some of the water down as I make my way along the outer rim of the club in search of the restrooms. My heart is beating incredibly fast, and I know it’s not from the dancing. It’s something more.

My water is gone by the time I locate the restroom, and I set the glass down on a nearby empty table.

I’ve just managed to duck down the hall when a hand grabs my wrist. I jerk away on instinct, but the pained, “Whim, it’s me,” has me instantly relaxing.

“Don’t scare me like that,” I scold as Elias tugs me down a more private hall. We’re probably not supposed to be down here.

“Sorry. You ran off so fast and I was worried.” He looks down, but not before I see a flash of shame in his eyes. “I didn’t mean … fuck.” He looks to the side, jaw working back and forth. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Y-You didn’t,” I stutter. “I just … we have months of this tennis season left, and we can’t afford to fuck it up by sleeping together.”

Pain flashes across his face. “I know.” He takes a deep breath and says, “I know,” again with an even more somber tone.

“You’re right.” He cages me in against the wall—one arm above my head, the other grazing my hip.

I shiver at his proximity and feel my nipples harden.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I really want to kiss you.

That I wonder what you’d sound like moaning my name.

I’ve dreamed of how well you’d take my cock.

But you’re right.” He takes a step back, rubbing his hand against the back of his head. “This can’t happen.”

There’s a shared sadness that passes between us—an acknowledgment that the desire is mutual, but we both know we can’t fuck up this arrangement.

I’m under no illusions, that even with the image Jackson’s trying to create of Elias settling down into a one-woman man, that he’d ship me back to America in a heartbeat if he even got a whiff of real feelings from us.

Elias’s shoulders droop and he mumbles, “Let’s find Ebba and get out of here.”

As much as I didn’t want to come to the club, I find myself sad that the evening is over, and I know that fact is only due to Elias’s presence. If he hadn’t show up, I would’ve already begged Ebba to leave.

I have to stop this.

We have to stop this.

I only hope we can make it through the rest of this season unscathed.