Matchpoint

Chapter 28:

The bedsheets hug my body like an old friend. Now that June is near, the cool breeze is drifting into the room. It's about time the doona got a bit of use.

With a soft groan, letting myself stretch, I twist in the bed, only to be met with a smug grin.

"Sleep well?" Fucker. I shouldn't have stayed. But we got talking, talking got to drinking, drinking turned to kissing and kissing turned to sleeping. I knew it was a bad idea the moment I walked from the court to the house he's staying at on campus.

"The gentlemen thing would've been to sleep on the coach, asshole." I mumble, rubbing my hand along my eyes. I'm trying desperately not to look at his bed hair and how gorgeous he is in the morning. He's godly.

Dom chuckles, his green eyes flashing with delight. "Fuck, Clove, we were wasted, I just wanted to sleep in my bed."

I can't conceal my smile. He's not wrong. I don't even remember how much I drank, but from the major headache I have, I'm guessing it was quite a lot more than I'm used to.

With a yawn, I lift my head and look at him warily. "Did...um...did anything happen?" I ask.

Dom's eyebrows raise, and his eyes widen. "No, no, not at all, I mean, besides making out and you taking off my shirt, but other than that, no." Dom speaks earnestly, sitting up in his bed. "Clove, I wouldn't take advantage of you like that."

I bite the inside of my lip and smile back at him in response. "Thanks."

My heart is hammering as I stare at him. I know exactly why I decided to come to his room. I'm absolutely charmed by him, no matter how much I protest.

"Dom..." I begin, and he shakes his head.

"I know, I know," he sighs defeatedly. "This can't happen. Don't worry, I hear you."

He shifts in the bed, and the sheets fall from around his torso, revealing the toned chest. It's just hills and valleys of muscle. Fucking hell.

My eyes flicker, my tongue sweeps along my lips, my body gets shivers.

Fuck it.

I reach over and pull his face into mine. Dom reacts instantly, hands moving through the sheets to grab me and drag me over to him.

His lips move against mine so methodically. If he's good at tennis, he's fucking fantastic at kissing.

Now I'm on his lap, one of his hands is in my hair, the other on my waist. We're both moaning in desire, the closeness, the heat, the passion.

Last night's all coming back to me. Our bodies and their closeness. His lips were hot against mine. Tongues sweeping, hands touching.

"Clove, say it," Dom rasps through heated kisses.

I know what he's on about, I know what he means.

"Dom," I speak his name breathlessly. His lips move down my neck, sucking softly on tender spots. My back arches, pushing my body into him.

Dom shivers under my touch. I like that. I move my hands down to his chest, feeling those hills and valleys against my palm. How can I deny myself this?

"Dom, we have to be careful." I say softly, taking deep breaths as I do so.

"We will be." Dom assures.

"Nothing in person. No touching, kissing, no longing looks." I shiver as he hand moves under my shirt and smooths against my back.

"I don't do longing looks." Dom says earnestly.