"No, let me show you..." He says, as he slides his arms around my waist from behind and grips the tennis racket.
"See? Hold it loosely, but not so loose that you can't control it."
He murmurs gently in my ear. I take the racket from him once more and he lets his muscular arms wrap around my waist. I feel his strong chest pressed against the small of my back - firm, yet soft. He leans his head against my shoulder and trails his soft lips up my neck, planting kisses every now and then.
"Much better." He whispers.
"Almost as good as Murray!" I say, and I feel him vibrate against me as he laughs.
I feel his eyes on me, and turn my head to meet his gaze. I can never decide whether his eyes are blue or green. At the moment, in the bright, midday sun, they look more emerald.
His eyes are deep and lure me to him... I tilt my head slightly and lean forward.
Our lips meet. One of his hands raises to my neck, whilst the other grips my hip, turning my body to face his. Our lips part slightly as I grin, but he kisses me again.
The tennis racket has now slipped from my grasp, and my hands are on his hips and chest. I claw at his loose, pale shirt, pulling him even closer to me, even though there is no space left between us.
He whispers something repeatedly as we catch our breath between kisses: "I love you... I love you.. I love you..."
His grip on my hip and neck become harder, stronger, as if it is our last goodbye and we'll never see each other again. As if he never wants to let go. But this is not goodbye. We have our whole lives to see each other. He will never let go of my heart.
He loves me. I love him.
That's all that matters.
