Staying up for the sunrise again
Means I know the morning from the night
Owls and whiskey
Witching hour in the city
Don’t know if the sun will rise
But we’re all moving toward the light
The music moves through me, captivating me. He keeps his voice soft, almost quiet, but it hums with power.
“I love it,” I say when he falls silent. “Gabriel, that’s amazing. I can practically hear the guitar with it in my mind.”
He shrugs, but I can tell he likes the compliment. “Yeah, it might be something.” He draws his hand down my bicep, smiling at me. “Time for you to win, right? And me to sit still and behave appropriately?”
I chuckle. “If you think you can handle that.”
“Appropriate behavior now,” he says. “Inappropriate behavior back at the hotel. Hell, if you break your serving speed record like you’ve been talking about, we should check out that hot tub as a reward.”
I bury a grin. Not that I need a reward to make a new serve speed record more desirable, but I don’t mind having sex in the hot tub to look forward to.
“Thanks again for the good luck song,” I tell him and, before I can doubt the appropriateness, give him a quick kiss. “I’ll see you after the match? If I win, I’ll walk over, and you can come down to me for a couple quick photos.”
He nods. “When you win. Got it.”
I let out a slow breath as Gabriel leaves. I’m tingly and warm from seeing him, but when I return to my focus, it’s stronger than ever, my drive to win rearing up like a lion ready to strike.
The second I’m on the court, I become aware of where Gabriel sits. I’d always notice when my father was there, but otherwise, I manage to tune out the crowd. Gabriel’s presence, though, isn’t a distraction like knowing my father was watching in person and judging every point. As the match starts, I’m not sweating my missteps, aware of him seeing me fuck up.
Instead, I know Gabriel is rooting for me. I know how excited he is for me to win, how much he believes in me, and it’s like a supercharge through my game. I’m in the zone, barely thinking about him at all, but somehow, the whole time, a small part of me knows that he’s there.
I slam another overhead shot, blasting it far out of the reach of the other player. He’s good, running his defense hard and wearing at my edges, but I’m able to overpower him easily.
This is it. I’m playing at my peak, achieving a level I always knew I could achieve.
All the people hating on me and waiting for me to fail were wrong, and now they’re going to be forced to admit it. They’re going to eat every hateful thing they’ve said about me and Gabriel.
Because we’re good. We’re so fucking good I can feel it in my bones.
I serve an ace that pushes my record speed, closing out the last set and winning my second match. It feels good, and I’m dripping with sweat under the hot Miami sun. When I cross over to the side, Gabriel comes down to join me. He’s smiling as he hops the fence and lands on the court, and I pull him into a quick kiss as cameras flash.
The eyes of the world are on us, but that’s the point.
Gabriel and I are unstoppable together, and the first Grand Slam in Paris is just weeks away.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
GABRIEL
After his win,Spencer is horny as hell. The second we’re back to the honeymoon suite, he can’t keep his hands off of me, and I can’t stop groping him up, either. It’s fucking thrilling to watch him come alive on the court and dominate the game so intensely. He’s like a tornado.
And he keeps the energy up. Spencer throws me to the bed and eats my ass before fingering me, and when I’m all worked up and ready to come, I tear away and do the same to him, pushing him to new highs, losing myself in his groans.
He’s perfect. He grunts my name into the pillow and thrusts his gorgeous, firm ass, giving himself to me over and over. And when he comes, he shakes so hard, I nearly buck off.
This feels way better than just sex.
