A shocked laugh gusts out of me. ‘Oh, he’s not . . . we’re not . . .’
But she turns back to the court and tucks her hand back on her lap as I glance up at Sam with an awkward smile.
Chapter 51
The Dog and Ferret, a tube ride away in Richmond, is a gastropub with homely, winsome decor and crooked ceilings. There’s a tempting menu but it’s so late when we arrive that the kitchen has closed. Thankfully, the staff offer to put together a grazing board of cheeses and cured meats, walnuts, grapes and crackers. We sit in a cosy corner and pick at the food, resting our aching feet as we relive the highlights of the day before heading to our room.
Sam said he’d struggled to get somewhere, given how in demand hotel rooms are during the Championships, but this couldn’t be more perfect. There’s something romantically old fashioned about the place, with its patterned wallpaper, crisp linen and luxurious touches in the bathroom. I kick off my shoes and sit on one of the twin beds, hinging the backs of my knees over the edge as I flop onto the linen.
‘This islovely,’ I say, propping myself up on my elbows.
Sam is undoing a button on his shirt and I’m hit by an acute appreciation of his neck.He catches me looking and a smile makes its way to his mouth.
‘Have I got something on my chin?’ he asks, wiping away an invisible blot.
‘Just admiring the view, that’s all.’
An amused sound escapes from his mouth, which makes me grin. I pick up my phone and make a point of studying that instead. But he walks towards me and I lower the device as he climbs on top and straddles my hips. With hiselbows either side of me, he seems to focus on each individual feature of my face, before pressing his mouth gently against mine.
‘I’m going to take a shower,’ he murmurs, but I grab his waist and draw him back to my lips again. My tongue catches the edge of his and something swoops all the way from my throat to the pit of my belly. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss as I have a sensation of wanting my entire body to melt into his. I roll my groin against him. A hum escapes from somewhere deep in his throat.
‘You smell perfectly acceptable to me,’ I murmur.
Understatement. He smells amazing and nothing less. We might have been in the same clothes for fifteen hours, but as my hands reach under his shirt to find his smooth, warm body, my senses are filled with the base chemistry of his skin. The aftershave he wore this morning is amplified into some musky, ambrosian hit that makes me want to press my face against his neck and just inhale. Our foreheads touch as he draws a finger down my chin before we begin to kiss, achingly slowly.
‘I really do need that shower,’ he sighs.
I tut. ‘You and your personal hygiene.’
He withdraws slowly, our eyes locked as he stands up. As he finally turns away, I bend to sniff my armpit. Could be worse but I’m not exactly fragrant.
‘I think I need one too.’
‘Do you want to go first?’ he asks. But then he freezes and turns back to me as something occurs to him. ‘Unless . . .’
‘Unless what?’
He shrugs. ‘We could always share.’
I suddenly can’t think of a reason why we wouldn’t.
We make our way into the bathroom amidst a series of breathless kisses and whispered words. I fumble with the buttons on his shirt. He unzips my dress, then lifts it overmy head. It strikes me that the nice underwear I’ve started buying recently – sheer and sexy with filigree detailing – is in itself an aphrodisiac.
The same cannot be said for my hairdo.
I stand in front of the mirror to remove the first of what must be two dozen clips, as Sam turns on the shower. When he returns, he slides his arms around me from behind and begins to kiss my shoulders. The ache of desire makes me feel soft everywhere. None of this helps me to concentrate on the task at hand. I become increasingly frustrated as the clips get stuck.
‘Fuck,’ I say, yanking at one.
‘Need some help?’
He reaches for the top of my head as I lower my arms. He admittedly has a better view than me, but he’s also gentle and methodical, taking care not to tug too hard as he works each clip out and places them next to the sink. When they’re finally all out, he smooths the soft tangles of my hair with his fingers and arranges it around my neck. Then he kisses my shoulder again, making me shiver.
‘Thank you.’ I turn around to face him.
‘Pleasure,’ he whispers, as his eyes soften on my face.
He reaches around my back to unclasp my bra. Steam hits my breasts as it drops to the floor. We sink into another kiss and start discarding clothes, one after the other. Shirt. Trousers. Underwear, first his, then mine. I want him so badly that as I arch towards him, my cheeks and chest already flushed pink, I feel like I could devour him given half a chance. We make our way under the warm jets of water in a tangle of limbs. His hands are in my hair, my palms on his behind, my breasts against his chest.
