Ashley’s hand lay lightly on her breast. Spencer sighed. Had she ever known such pure contentment? she wondered. No, not even when they had been together before. Then she hadn’t known what it would be like to do without her. She shuddered, then moved closer. "Cold?" Ashley drew her to her until Spencer’s head rested on the curve of her shoulder. "A little. Where’s my chemise?" "Devoured." She laughed, flinging her arms around Ashley as though she would never let go. Free, she thought. How wonderful to be free—to love, to laugh. Supporting herself on Ashley’s chest, she stared down into her face. For once her eyes were calm. A faint smile curved her lips. Beneath her, her breathing was even and slow, to match hers. To match, her mind repeated. They had always been like two halves of the same whole. "Oh, God, I missed you, Ash." On those words she buried her face against her throat. Empty, empty, she thought. It seemed like a lifetime of emptiness had been wiped away with an hour of fulfillment. "Spence—" "No, no questions. No questions." Wildly she rained kisses over her face. "Just feel, just be with me. I need to laugh tonight, the way we used to." Ashley stopped Spencer’s hurried movements by taking her head in her hands. There was a plea in Spencer’s eyes and a light trace of desperation. No, she didn’t want to see that now. Pushing away the questions that drummed in her head, she smiled at her. "I thought you were going to buy me dinner." Relief washed over Spencer before she grinned. "I have no idea what you’re talking about." "You asked me for a date." Tossing her head back, Spencer arched an elegant brow. "I asked you? You’ve been out in the heat too long, Davies." "Dinner," Ashley repeated, rolling Spencer over until she loomed above her. "As far as I can tell, you’ve already eaten a sixty-dollar silk chemise. Are you still hungry?" For an answer, Ashley lowered her mouth to her neck and bit, none too gently. Laughing, Spencer tried to twist away. "Food," Ashley muttered. "I have to eat." Remembering a weakness, Spencer found the spot on Ashley’s ribs and squeezed. Her body jerked, giving Spencer the opportunity to slither away. She was giggling like a girl when Ashley grabbed her and pulled her back. "How many people know the indomitable Davies is ticklish?" she demanded when Ashley pinned her arms over her head. "What would the press pay to find out?" "About the same as they’d pay to find out elegant Spencer Carlin has a tattoo of an inscripted A on her very attractive bottom." Spencer considered this a moment. "Even," she decided. Her smile slanted seductively. "Do you really want to go out to eat?" Desire fluttered lightly in the pit of Ashley’s stomach as she looked down at her. The light angled across Spencer’s face, accenting the smooth, glowing skin and darkened eyes. The thunder was a distant rumble now, but she felt it vibrate in her head. "There’s always room service," she murmured, tasting Spencer’s lips. She kept Spencer’s arms pinned as she dropped light, teasing kisses over her face. Nestling in the vulnerable curve of her neck, she used her tongue to stir and arouse. "Ash," Spencer moaned, unable to struggle against the captivity. "Make love to me." Ashley’s chuckle was low and she was pleased. "Oh, I am. This time," she whispered into her ear, "we won’t hurry. Hours, love." Her tongue darted to her ear, making Spencer squirm in agonized delight. "Hours and hours." Then she shifted, bringing Spencer close to her side. Cradling her, Ashley felt her heart pounding against her. When she reached for the phone, Spencer glanced up, puzzled. "Food," she reminded her. Spencer gave a weak laugh. "I should have remembered your stomach comes first." Ashley’s hand grazed over Spencer’s breast. "Not necessarily." Her nipple was already taut. Ashley flicked her thumb over it lazily. "Ash—" With a kiss Ashley silenced her. "Champagne," Ashley said into the phone while driving Spencer mad with careless strokes and fondling. "Dom Perignon. Caviar," she went on, sending Spencer a questioning look that she was powerless to answer. "Beluga." She gave Spencer a light kiss, running her hand down to the flat of her stomach. Spencer quivered, turning into her. Legs tangled as Ashley brushed her lips over her shoulder. "Cold shrimp." She bit Spencer’s tender bottom lip. "Mmm, that’ll do. Yes, for two.” As Ashley dropped the phone back on its cradle, Spencer found her mouth in a desperate, yearning kiss. "Food excites you?" she mumbled against the hungry lips. Struggling not to take her instantly, Ashley ran her hand to Spencer’s hip, kneading warm flesh. "I want you." Spencer’s voice was low and throaty, her hands questing. "I want you now." "Shh." Slow, patience, Ashley’s stroking aroused rather than subdued. "Relax. There’s time. I want to see you again." She drew away from her. "Really see you." Spencer was burning for her. Now she lay naked and vulnerable under Ashley’s gaze. As she watched, Ashley’s eyes darkened, grew stormy, her breathing quickened. When Spencer reached out Ashley took her hand, burying her lips in the palm. "You’re more beautiful than ever," Ashley said huskily. "It shouldn’t be possible. I’ve looked at you so many times and have been afraid to touch." "No." Spencer pulled Ashley to her until they were heart to heart. "I’m never more alive than when you touch me." With a sigh Ashley nestled down until her head rested between Spencer’s breasts. Spencer combed her fingers through Ashley’s hair as contentment layered over desire. "Today, when I watched you playing Maria, I wanted you. Sitting there, surrounded by thousands of people in the middle of the afternoon, all I could think about was being with you like this." She gave a gurgle of laughter. "Wicked thoughts, such wonderfully wicked thoughts." “So your invitation to dinner carried an ulterior motive." "In your weakened condition I knew you’d be a pushover, though I had thought I’d have to take you out and ply you with food and wine first." "And if I’d refused?" "I’d have come up with something else." Grinning, Ashley lifted her head. "What?" Spencer shrugged. "I could have come up here and seduced you before you’d gotten your strength back." "Hmm… I almost wish I’d said no." "Too late. I have you now." "I could get stubborn." Slowly Spencer smiled. "I know your weaknesses," she whispered, running a fingertip up the nape of Ashley’s neck. Ashley’s shudder was quick and uncontrollable. Leaning up, Spencer took her face in her hands. Lazily she rubbed her lips over hers, then deepened the touch into a kiss—a long, draining taste that left Ashley weak. Her tongue glided over hers, then retreated. "Spence." On an oath Ashley crushed Spencer beneath her, savaging her mouth with a need that had risen so quickly, it left her dazed. She didn’t hear the discreet knock on the door, nor did she understand her murmurs. "The door," Spencer managed. "Ash, it’s room service." "What?" "The door." Laying her forehead on Spencer’s, Ashley struggled to recapture her control. "They’re awful damn quick," she muttered. She found she was trembling. How could she have forgotten that Spencer could make her tremble? After let
ting out a long breath, she rose. Spencer pulled the sheets up to her chin and watched Ashley cross to the closet. A beautiful body, she thought, both proud and admiring. Curvy and toned.. She looked her fill as Ashley rummaged through her closet for a robe. Elegant shoulders, trim waist, killer legs, and God those hips – just made for her hands to perch on. An athlete’s body, or a dancer’s. She was made to compete. Ashley shrugged into the robe, belting it carelessly. Grinning, Ashley turned to her. Spencer’s heart lodged in her throat. "Ash, you’re so beautiful." "Thank you, you are so beautiful too, my perfect lady" Ashley said with a smile, making Spencer smother a giggle. Spencer brought her knees up to her chest as Ashley signed the check at the door. In some ways, Spencer mused, Ashley was a little girl. She had no cruelty in her, though on the court she was unmerciful. Her temper was explosive, but she was incapable of holding a grudge. Spencer realized that it was her basic capacity for feeling that she had missed most of all. And still Ashley had never, in all their closeness, in all the months of intimacy, told her that she loved her. If she had once said the words, she would never have left her. "Where have you gone?" Spencer turned her head to see Ashley standing beside a tray, a bottle of champagne in her hands. Quickly she shook her head and smiled again. "Nowhere." She cocked her head at the bottle. "All that just for us?" Ashley walked to the bed and sat on the edge. "Did you want some too?" The cork came off with a resounding pop as Spencer cuffed her shoulder. With an easy stretch she rolled the tray toward them. "Here, hold the glasses." Without ceremony she poured champagne until it nearly ran over the rims. "Ash, it’ll spill on the bed." "Better be careful then," she advised as she set the bottle back in the ice. She grinned as Spencer sat cross-legged, balancing two glasses in her hands. The sheet was held in place over her breasts by arms pressed tightly to her sides. Spencer returned the grin with a glance of exasperation. "Aren’t you going to take one?" "Oh, I don’t know." Hooking a finger under the sheet, Ashley nudged it downward, exposing creamy flesh. "Ashley, cut it out, I’ll spill it!" "Better not, we have to sleep here." Ashley urged the sheet a trifle lower. Frustrated, Spencer looked from glass to glass. Wine swayed dangerously. "This is a dirty trick, Davies." "Yeah, I like it." Spencer narrowed her eyes. "I’m going to pour both glasses into your lap." "Terrible waste," Ashley decided, kissing her. "It’s good stuff. I always found it strange," she began, lazily kissing Spencer’s face as she spoke, "that I was bred for beer and you were bred for champagne, but you haven’t any head for it." "I have a perfectly good head for champagne." Chuckling, Ashley brushed her lips over Spencer’s throat. "I remember one very memorable night when we shared a bottle. Three glasses make you crazy. I like you crazy." . "That’s absurd." The lift of brow challenged her. Without hesitation Spencer brought a glass to her lips, losing the sheet as she drank it. Ashley watched the linen pool into her lap before she drained the last drop. "That’s one," Spencer announced, lifting the second glass. Ashley plucked it from her fingers. "Let’s spread it out a little," she advised, amused. she drank, more conservatively, then reached for the tray of caviar. "You like this stuff." "Mmm." Suddenly hungry, Spencer spread a generous amount on a toast point. Ashley settled down to the bowl of cold shrimp and spicy sauce. "Here, it’s good." Though she allowed Spencer to feed her a bite, she wrinkled her nose. "Overrated," Ashley stated. "This is better." She popped a shrimp into Spencer’s mouth. "S wonderful," Spencer agreed with a full mouth, then chose another. "I didn’t know I was so hungry." Ashley filled Spencer’s glass again. Could anyone else imagine her, she wondered, sitting naked in bed, licking sauce from her finger? Did anyone else know how totally open she could be? She was talking now, in fits and starts as she ate, replaying her match. Ashley let her ramble, pleased just to hear her voice, to see her animation. ‘She was satisfied with her serve, worried about her backhand volley’. Publicly she chose her words with care, and made certain there were few of them. If a reporter could see her now, Ashley mused, he’d wear a pencil down to the nub. She was full of joy and doubt, fear and self-congratulation. Words tumbled out without discretion. Her face was animated, her hands gestured. By the time she had slowed down, her second glass was empty. Perhaps she was completely happy, because she wasn’t even aware of the sensation. She was simply at ease, completely herself. Comfortably full, she toyed with the last of the caviar. "Are you worried about playing me in the finals?" Ashley bit into a shrimp. "Why?" "Coz I’ve always been good and I can beat you," Spencer said, smiling widely. Grinning, Ashley tilted more wine into Spencer’s glass. "Don’t you think I can beat you?" Spencer sent her a long, considering look. "You were always good too." "Thanks." After setting the caviar on the tray, Ashley stretched lengthwise on the bed. "I play a bit like my mother did," Spencer mused. "Very clean, very precise. My talent’s polished rather than raw." "Like mine." "Yes. That raw athletic ability is something every competitor envies. My mother used to say that you had more natural talent than any player she’d seen in her career." Over the rim of her glass Spencer smiled down at her. "Yet she always wanted to smooth out your form. Then there were your… antics on the court." Ashley laughed, kissing Spencer’s knee through the sheet. "It used to drive her crazy." "I imagine she’d be more pleased if she saw you play now." "And you?" Ashley countered. "How would she feel if she saw you play now?" Spencer shifted her eyes from hers to stare into her glass. "She won’t." "Why?" As if to erase the question, she lifted her hand. "Ash, please." "Spencer," Ashley said quietly, grasping her fingers. "You’re hurting." If Spencer could have held it back, she would have. But the words tumbled out. "I let her down. She won’t forgive me." "She’s your mother." "And she was my coach.” Unable to comprehend, Ashley shook her head. "What difference does that make?" "All the difference." The pain slipped out. As if to numb it, Spencer swallowed more wine. "Please, not tonight. I don’t want anything to spoil tonight." Her fingers had tightened on Ashley’s. One by one Ashley kissed them until she felt the tension relax. "Nothing could." Over their joined hands, dark, intense eyes met Spencer’s. Spontaneously her pulse began to race. "I never got you completely out of my mind," Ashley confessed. "Too many things reminded me—a phrase, a song. Silence. There were times alone at night I would have sworn I heard you breathing in the quiet beside me." The words moved her… hurt her. "Ashley, those were yesterdays. We can start now." "Now," Ashley agreed. "But we’ll have to deal with yesterday sooner or later." Though Spencer opened her mouth to disagree, she knew. "Later then. Right now I don’t want to think about anything but being with you." Ashley grinned, brushing a stray hair f
rom Spencer’s cheek. "It’s difficult to argue with that." "Don’t get cocky," Spencer told her, then tossed off the rest of her champagne. "That was three," she said haughtily. "And I’m not the least affected." Ashley had no trouble recognizing the signs—the flushed cheeks, the glowing eyes and misty smile. Whatever Spencer might say, she knew the champagne was swimming in her head. And when they loved again, she would be soft and strong and passionate. She found herself wanting to simply look at her for a few minutes more. Once they touched, the fire would take them. "Want another?" she offered. "Sure." Wisely Ashley filled her glass only halfway before she replaced the bottle. "I caught your interview today," Ashley commented. "It was on while I was changing." "Oh?" Spencer shifted to lie on her stomach, propping herself on her elbows. "How did I do?" "Hard to say. It was all in French." Spencer laughed, adjusting her position so that she could take another sip. "I’d forgotten." "How about a translation?" "He asked things like—Mademoiselle Carlin, do you find any changes in your style after your temporary retirement? And I said something like I feel I’ve tightened my serve." She chuckled into her wine. "I didn’t mention that my muscles beg for me to give them a break after two sets. He asked how I felt about playing the the unstoppable Ashley Davies in the finals and I refrained from punching him in the mouth." "That was diplomatic," Ashley answered, slipping the glass from Spencer’s fingers. "I’m a hell of a diplomat," Spencer agreed. Rolling over on her back, she looked up at Ashley. Ashley lounged just behind her so that she had to tilt her head at an odd angle to make eye contact. "You stole my glass." "Yes, I did." After seeing it on the tray, Ashley gave the wheeled table a slight shove. "Did we finish dinner?" Reaching up and back, she locked her arms around Ashley’s neck. "We’ve definitely finished dinner." she allowed Spencer to urge her down until her mouth hovered above hers. "Got any suggestions about what we should do now?" Spencer liked the strangeness of having Ashley’s face upside down over hers. Playfully she nipped at her lip. "No. Do you?" "Got a deck of cards?" "Uh-uh." "Then I guess we’ll have to make love." Spencer gave a rich, low laugh before she kissed Ashley again. "All night—just to pass the time." "It’s something to do. Rainy nights are so boring." Eyes dancing, Spencer nodded. "Mmm, yes. Let’s make the best of it." Her lips were curved in a smile as Ashley met them, but they parted eagerly. She found it strangely seductive to have Ashley’s tongue meet hers this way. On a gurgle of laughter, she closed her teeth gently, capturing her. In response, Ashley trailed her fingers over her breast until Spencer’s moan freed her. "I get dizzy kissing you upside down," Spencer murmured. “I like you dizzy." Leaning forward, Ashley trailed moist kisses over Spencer’s throat. The tip of her tongue picked up her flavor, then lingered over it. She could feel pulse beats both with her hand and her lips. Finding the curve of Ashley’s neck vulnerable, Spencer began to give her the same pleasure she was bringing her. "I want to touch you," she complained. "I can’t touch you this way." But Ashley continued to explore from where she was, enjoying the freedom her hands had over Spencer’s body. The scent of the rich sauce still lingering in the air, and the zing of champagne clung to two tongues as they joined. The mattress groaned quietly as Spencer shifted. Then she was on her knees, pressed body to body. In a quick move she had stripped the robe from Ashley so she was as naked as she. With a half laugh, half sigh, she ran her palms up her smooth back. Entwined, enchanted, neither noticed that the rain had ceased. Inside the quiet room, pleasure built. Strong thigh pressed against strong thigh, hungry lips sought hungry lips. Their passion was equal, their needs the same. Together, they lay down. Soft sighs became moans. Before long, gentle caresses became demanding. Both seemed desperate to touch and be touched, to have their own weaknesses exploited. With instinctive understanding they held back the final gift. The inner fire built, dampening their flesh, but still they lingered over each other. There was so much to make up for, so much time to recapture. Though passion was flaring, this thought hovered in the back of both their minds. Tonight was a fresh beginning. They wanted all of it. Spencer thought her lungs would burst. The combination of wine and passion buzzed in her head. A laugh, smoky with desire, floated from her as Ashley gasped her name. She wanted to tempt her, torment her, give to her. Ashley’s stomach was hard and flat with muscle, yet the touch of her fingertip could make it quiver. Spencer had forgotten this sense of power and exulted in it. Her small hands could make Ashley weak. Her shapely, serious mouth could drive her wild. The power shifted so abruptly, Spencer was helpless. Ashley found her greatest vulnerability and used her tongue to destroy her last vestige of control. Half wild, Spencer called for her, struggling to have more, desperate to have all. Arching, she pressed Ashley closer, cresting on a wave of delight that had no chance to recede. She thrashed as if in protest, yet arched again in invitation. As she built toward a higher peak, Ashley slid up her body. Greedy, Spencer drew Ashley’s fingers inside of her as she pushed hers inside of Ashley, hearing Ashley gasp for breath before there was only feeling. Later, they still clung together, damp, spent, fulfilled. Ashley shifted only to turn out the light. In the midnight darkness they molded to each other, drifting toward sleep. "You’ll move in with me." The murmur was a statement rather than a question. Spencer opened her eyes before she answered. She could just see the outline of Ashley’s face. "Yes, if you want me." "I never stopped wanting you." Without the light Ashley didn’t see the flicker of doubt in Spencer’s eyes before she slept. ________________________________________