“What do you think I need to work on the most?” I askher, taking a sip of water. The weather is nice and pleasant, but the dark clouds are moving fast above us.
Maggie studies me, head tilted, her ponytail swishing in the back. “Maybe your backhand?”
“Really?” I ask.
“Honestly, Rowan, I think you’re doing great. You’re fast on the grass courts, it’s where you shine the brightest. Just keep your head straight and you’ll win in no time.”
I smile and nod, picking up both our bags and slinging them over one shoulder. When we get close to the building where the locker rooms are, we see a swarm of reporters and paparazzi waiting for people to come out.
Maggie and I share a look and she scowls in their direction. It’s important to her that we avoid the media when it comes to practices and being out in public, so I think of a solution quickly.
“What if we just made a run for the hotel?” I suggest.
“I’m sure there are plenty of reporters loitering around the hotel too.”
“What if we used a back entrance? I met some staff members this morning, I’m sure they’ll help us.”
“We could give it a shot.” She smiles and I need to physically hold myself back so I don’t kiss her.
We start a brisk walk towards the hotel as I call the receptionist. “Hi, this is Rowan Amory. I need to ask you for a favor. Any chance you can get me in the hotel through a back entrance so I can avoid the media?”
“Absolutely sir, just take the back alley and walk up to the staff door. There’s a doorbell that you can ring and I’ll make sure someone is there to guide you to your floor.”
“Thank you so much, Marcy. I owe you big time.”
“No problem at all, best of luck tomorrow.”
I hang up and grin over at Maggie right as the rain starts. We both look up at the same time and smile like fools at each other as we start running down the streets of London, in our tennis gear.
“This is the alley,” I say, grabbing Maggie’s hand with my free one. I pull her along with me and she giggles as she keeps up the pace.
“What would we do without your ability to make friends everywhere you go?” she says as we reach the door and I push the button.
I turn and take her in fully. She’s drenched from the rain, the water droplets running down her arms and chest. She wipes some off her face and I can’t hold myself back anymore. I drop the bags at our feet and grab her waist, twisting us around so her back hits the side of the building. I cover her with my body and lick the rain right off her flushed skin, from her cleavage all the way up the column of her throat.
When I get to her mouth, she inhales shakily and I sink my teeth into her bottom lip, tugging just enough to get her to react. And that reaction is immediate. Her hands fly up to my hair and she tugs at the root as she kisses me back. Hard. Punishing. Our wet clothes stick to each other and my hands find her ass, kneading it.
Maggie moans against my mouth and I pull back abruptly, hearing noises behind the door. I quickly readjust myself and pick up the bags once more.
“What—” Maggie says but gets cut off as the door opens and Marcus, one of the waiters I met this week, grins at me and waves us in.
“You guys are soaked, hurry inside,” he says, grabbing some nearby towels and handing them over. I use one to wrap around Maggie’s shivering shoulders and the other to wipe both our faces.
She looks at me with not just admiration, but so much lust. I need to get us to one of our rooms as fast as possible.
“Marcus, any chance there’s an elevator that can get us to our floor quickly?”
“Yes, sir, right this way. There’s a service elevator that housekeeping uses. I can use my badge to get you in.”
We enter the elevator and Marcus taps his badge on the key reader, saying, “Now just push the floor number, and you’re all set.”
“Thank you,” Maggie says, clutching the towel around her shoulders.
“Thanks, man,” I say, handing him a hundred pound bill and pressing the button for the eighth floor. As soon as the doors close, I drop the bags again and pull Maggie into my arms.
Instead of a passionate kiss, I rub my hands all over her shoulders and arms, trying to warm her back up. “You’re still shivering.”
“It’s the air conditioning, I think. A nice, hot shower will help.”
