Page 38 of Risky Match (Royal Spies #1)

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A s we walk off the court, I ask, “Do you still have your sponsor’s event tonight?”

“I do. We’ll handle some business, and then they want me to pose for photos.”

“Is there any chance I could tag along? I’m not familiar with how to deal with sponsors and would love to observe.”

“Absolutely.”

That was easier than expected. I’ll let Stephen and Adrian know I’ve secured the invitation. Secretly, I wanted to spend the evening with Blake anyway.

“Are you sure they wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not. They’d probably pay me to bring royalty to their party.” I laugh.

“You’re going to think I’m kidding, but sometimes I forget about my title when I’m playing tennis.”

“When I’m in the zone, I forget things too.”

“By the way, I assumed your sponsor’s event is a party. Why would you be doing business at a social event? What’s that all about?”

“It is a party, but I also need to deliver some stuff they want. It’s what Noah and Josh were talking about at dinner the other night. That part shouldn’t take long. Afterward, we can have dinner together. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. I have time to shower and change in the locker room. Can you meet me outside there when you’re ready?”

“Not so fast. We have another stop to make first,” he whispers into my ear.

I shudder as his warm breath tickles my neck.

“What are you talking about?”

“Follow me.”

With a gentle hand on my back, he guides me through the underground tunnels. We stop when we reach the training areas, and he looks around. At this time of day, it’s not too busy.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s clear, come on,” he says, as he urges me into one of the private massage rooms.

The room is stark. The walls are white. The floor is white.

There’s a counter with supplies along one wall, a chair in the corner, and a basket for used towels and linens.

Everything is white, except the massage table in the middle of the room.

In sharp contrast to the rest of the room, the table is black with metal legs.

“Did you clear this detour with Erin?” I ask.

He nods and drops his bag on the floor. Taking mine off my shoulder, he drops it near his.

Putting his arms around me, he pulls me toward him, pressing his lips against mine.

I melt into him, moaning at the chills he sends down my spine.

As he pulls away, he says, “Do you know how hot it was to watch you win that last point? All I could think about was getting you alone to celebrate.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“Would you like to kiss me again?” I playfully smile, tilting my head.

He laughs and pulls me against him, practically growling, “That’s not all I want to do.”

“Mmm. I’m liking this version of you much better.”

“Good. Consider this the next step in my apology to you.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“It’ll be easier to show you. Do you trust me to take care of you?”

“I do.”

He picks me up, carrying me to the massage table where he gently places me near one end with my legs dangling off. Without further words, he gently pushes my shoulders until my back is against the table.

Peeling my tennis skirt down my legs, he moans, “You are so beautiful and already so wet for me. I can’t wait to taste you.”

In seconds, he raises each of my legs to rest on his shoulders, spreading me for him.

I close my eyes in anticipation of his mouth connecting with me.

But instead, he starts by kissing each of my ankles and slowly .

..oh so agonizingly slow ...he works his way up my calf until he reaches the back of my knee.

He pauses there, nipping, kissing, and licking the tender skin until I’m writhing in need.

“Please hurry. I can’t wait,” I beg, my breath rapid, as I lean forward to grab his head and move it to where I crave his lips.

He pulls back, saying, “Patience, my love. I promise it will be worth the wait.”

He returns to his ministrations. I’d swear he’s dragging it out even more as my desire for him skyrockets with each tender kiss and touch. His mouth moves to the inside of one of my thighs while his thumb caresses the other one. The sensations in two sensitive areas are too much.

I shout, “Now! Please! I really can’t wait any longer.”

“If you insist.”

And his lips press against me in the most delicious way. His tongue flicks and licks, circling my swollen nub. As I arch into him, wanting even more pressure, he lets his teeth graze over me.

I moan, “Ohhh! That’s so good. Don’t you dare stop.”

“No chance,” he murmurs while maintaining his rhythm of kisses, tongue presses, licks, and nibbles that drive me insane.

I grab his hair, pulling his head tighter against me. When I think it can’t get any better, he plunges a finger into me while sucking my nub. I crash over the top, throbbing against his lips. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

He draws out my orgasm to the absolute finish and then pulls me into his arms, holding me against his chest until my breathing returns to normal.

Finally, he softly asks, “Will that do for an initial celebration of our win?”

“Absolutely. I can’t wait to see what you have planned if we win again.”

Who would have thought such a nondescript room would be the perfect place to enjoy our victory?

“If we pull off another win, I’ll come up with something. We have to hurry now. My sponsor won’t be happy if we’re late.”

“Okay. Can you meet me outside my locker room?”

“Sure. We should leave here separately. See you in 45 minutes,” he says as he slips out the door.

I hate to admit it, but we make a wonderful team on and off the court.