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Winning Ace: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 1) by Tracie Delaney (24)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh my God. It’s fabulous. I feel like a Bond girl.”

Cash smiled at Natalia’s reaction to the Aston Martin DBS he’d had delivered to their hotel. He’d ordered it with her in mind. Instinct told him she’d love it, and he’d been right.

“Which Bond girl?”

“Pussy Galore,” she said quick as a flash. “Loved her in Goldfinger.”

He laughed and closed her door then climbed in the driver’s side. “Ready?”

“Definitely.”

He pulled away from the kerb, and they headed out of Paris on the A1. He usually hated leaving his favourite city, but this time, he couldn’t wait for Natalia to see his real life, although a bite of nervous tension chewed at his insides. What if the reality wasn’t up to her fantasies? The life of a sportsman wasn’t a glamorous one. How would she react when she realised the amount of hours he put in on the practice court? Not to mention the punishing gym workouts, which would leave little time for them to spend together.

And then there was Kinga. Her constant calls and texts trying to apologise were so over the top he’d eventually blocked her number. Her grovelling was more than a little nauseating. And if she turned that sharp tongue of hers on Natalia, he’d cut the fucker off.

They stopped on the outskirts of Antwerp for a light lunch, and as they walked back to the car, he dangled the key in front of Natalia’s face. “Want to drive?”

She glanced up, excitement flickering in her eyes. “Really? The Bondmobile? Hell, yeah.”

He dropped the key into her outstretched hand, smiling as she ran around to the driver’s side. She took her time setting up the seat and the mirrors. Finally satisfied, she turned to him. “I’m going to give you the drive of your life. Are you ready?”

He gripped the sides of the seat and stared at her in mock horror. “What have I done?”

She stuck her tongue out and turned the key in the ignition. The low growl of the Aston’s idling engine rose to a loud roar as Natalia pressed the accelerator. The car shot forward, and she laughed.

“Wow, this engine’s got a lot of power.”

“And I’ll have whiplash if you do that again,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

She pressed the accelerator a little more gently the second time, and after about five minutes, she had the measure of it. As Cash watched her, a wave of pride raced through him. There was something so fucking sexy about watching her master the supercar.

As they filtered back onto the A1, Natalia glanced sideways at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“How fast can I go?”

“How fast do you want to go?”

“Breakneck,” she said with an impish grin.

“Road’s yours, baby. As is the speeding ticket, so keep watch for the blues.”

She turned the radio up, dropped the clutch, and opened the throttle, and the Aston sprang forward. He twisted his body to the side and watched her howling with laughter as the speedometer topped one hundred and sixty kilometres per hour.

“This is wild!” she yelled.

Seeing her carefree excitement made his skin tingle. Another dull and boring activity refreshed by experiencing it through Natalia’s eyes.

They reached the outskirts of Rotterdam just before one, and he directed Natalia to the apartment building they’d be staying in. She’d barely put the handbrake on when the valet opened her door and helped her out.

Cash cursed under his breath and jumped out of the car. “I’ve got this, thank you.” He glared across at the valet, who immediately dropped his hand from Natalia’s arm and inclined his head as he stepped away.

“Mr Gallagher, sir. Of course. Welcome back.”

He walked around to the driver’s side. “Is everything here?”

“Yes, sir. Everything arrived this morning.”

“Good.”

He threaded his fingers through hers and led her inside. She stopped as soon as they walked into the lobby, her eyes darting around. “This place is amazing.”

Cash nodded in agreement. He’d been to the hotel quite a few times, so he understood her reaction. The building was at least three hundred years old. It had been modernised but in keeping with the original design. At the centre of the reception area was a spectacular glass dome that allowed weak winter sunlight to stream through, covering the area in a warm yellow glow.

“Welcome back, Mr Gallagher,” the receptionist said as she tossed her blond hair over her shoulders. She raked him with hungry eyes, making him narrow his.

“Thanks.” He turned his back on her, plucked a red rose from a vase on the desk, and handed it to Natalia. “For you, beautiful lady.”

Natalia smiled as she took the rose, careful to avoid the thorns along the stem. “Thank you.”

Her eyes closed and her nostrils flared as she breathed in the fresh, clean scent of the flower. His pulse began to race just watching her.

He tossed a credit card on the desk. “We done?”

“Almost, Mr Gallagher.” The receptionist swiped the card and handed it back to him, making sure her fingers touched his. “Anything else I can help you with today?”

He snatched his hand away and almost asked her what the hell she thought she was doing, but then a distant memory pricked him. Fuck. He’d had a one-night stand with her during the Rotterdam tournament the previous year, but it was a disaster. After the sex, which was average at best, he told her to leave, and she burst into tears. He couldn’t stand clingy women. Normally, he stuck with women like Suze who understood the score, but he’d found himself at a loose end and had broken his own rule. He’d had a hell of a time getting the receptionist out of his room.

Cash glanced sideways to see if Natalia had spotted him twitching, but she was still looking around the lobby.

“No, I don’t need anything else,” he said sharply.

He picked up the key cards and draped his arm around Natalia’s shoulders. The receptionist’s gaze burned through the back of his head as they headed for the bank of lifts, and he inwardly groaned. Fucking brilliant. He hoped she wouldn’t make trouble. The last thing he needed was for his former life to be rammed down Natalia’s throat, especially after the breakthrough they’d had in Paris.

He opened the door to the apartment and ushered Natalia inside. She headed straight over to the window.

“Oh, look, Cash. We’re right on the river.”

He slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “I know.”

She twisted her head and kissed him. “I adore it.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, walking backwards and pulling her along with him. “Let’s christen the bed.”

The deep blue of her eyes deepened with desire, and her tongue dampened her lips. His insides twisted. What he wouldn’t give to feel those lips around his cock, but she hadn’t made a move to go down on him yet. He didn’t want to push and ask her do something she didn’t feel ready for sexually. Maybe he’d give her some gentle encouragement, and if she baulked, he’d pull back.

Fuck, he was growing up.

He unfastened her shirt slowly and tossed it on the floor. Removing Natalia’s clothes was like unwrapping the most precious gift, something to be savoured. She shuddered as he reached around her back to unclip her bra. Cash slid the straps down her arms, and her glorious tits spilled free. He made a soft noise in his throat and bent his knees as he moulded one to his hand and let his teeth graze the hardened nipple of the other. She gasped and threw her head back, thrusting her chest closer to him. He pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked hard while his free hand unzipped her jeans. Then he slid his palm over her belly, his middle finger seeking the wet heat inside her lace knickers.

“Cash,” she moaned, tilting her pelvis to meet him.

“Shhh, baby. I got you.”

He broke away and knelt on the floor, tugging her jeans down her legs. As she stepped out of them, he pressed his lips to the top of her thigh. Tucking his thumbs inside her knickers, he peeled them off until she was completely naked. Remaining on his knees, he looked up at her, and as their gazes collided, a blast of heat sped through his body. Christ, he wanted her.

“You’re still dressed,” she muttered with her eyes half-closed.

He grinned. “I know.”

Encouraging her to lie on the bed, he crouched above her, his mouth beginning the slow journey from north to south. Her back arched as he tortured her nipples, and her hands cradled the back of his head, driving him to suck harder. When he obliged, incoherent mumblings tumbled from her lips.

She made a grab for the button on his jeans, but he pinned her arms to the bed.

“Not yet. Close your eyes.”

She did as instructed, albeit with a brief pout. He grinned as he released her arms and pressed her thighs apart. She opened up before him, and he groaned low in his throat as his tongue found its ultimate target.

The air expelled from her lungs in a hiss as he lapped at her. She wriggled, and as she raised her pelvis, he cupped her arse, lifting her so he had even better access. Her breath came in pants, gradually increasing in volume. He’d barely had his fill when she came. She clutched at the bedclothes and tossed her head from side to side as though the pleasure was almost too much.

As her orgasm retreated, her eyes fluttered open. “You’re a wizard.”

He laughed and crawled back up her body, kissing her hard on the mouth. “Never been called that before.”

She licked her lips. “I can taste myself.”

His breath snagged in his throat. Perhaps this was his opportunity to explore her appetite for returning the favour. He tugged her upright until they were face to face. With one hand cradling her lower back, he grazed her jaw with the other.

“Want to taste me?”

Her eyes widened, and then her gaze fell to the floor, and she shook her head. “I’ve never done that before,” she mumbled, her voice so low he could barely hear her.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

She did as he asked, and as their eyes met, a flush of colour spread across her cheeks.

“There’s no pressure.”

“No, I want to,” she said, her blush deepening.

“We’ll take it slow. If you want to stop, we stop. End of story."

When she nodded, he stood and tugged down his jeans and boxers, his erection springing free into his hand. As he slowly stroked his length, she unfolded those long, amazing legs and came towards him. His pulse kicked up a notch. Her uncertainty but determination to do this for him, with him, turned him on big time. He took her hand, and as her fingers gripped his cock, he briefly closed his eyes. Before he could gently coach her, she sank to her knees, and when her tongue circled the end of his cock, his whole body shuddered.

“Fuck,” he bit out as his balls tightened. She didn’t need instruction. Her instincts were right on.

He watched his cock disappearing between her full lips as she took him deeper than he’d expected or been prepared for. Holy shit… God help me. Pressure was building far too quickly, and as his balls tingled with an oncoming orgasm, he rammed his eyes shut. If he wanted to last more than ten seconds, he couldn’t look at her. Watching her suck him off was too erotic, too intense. Too fucking sexy.

With a firm grip, she began massaging him, her hand working in tandem with her mouth. She made an appreciative noise deep in her throat, and he dug his fingernails into his palms.

Cash dared to open his eyes once more, and as he looked down, he expected to see the top of her head but instead was met with deep-blue eyes fully focused on his face.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered as an orgasm shot from the end of his cock. His head lolled backwards, and he groaned loudly as heat spread through his legs and feet. He hadn’t meant to come in her mouth, not the first time, but God help him, he’d been powerless to stop it. His knees trembled, and as he sank to the floor, he took her with him.

Tucking her head under his chin, he chuckled. “Thank fuck you’re not experienced.”

She glanced up, eyes wide with alarm. “Why?”

“Because if that was any better, you’d have fucking killed me.”

 

* * *

 

Cash rose at six and threw on running gear. Natalia didn’t stir as he dressed. With his motivation at an all-time low, he forced himself to leave her behind.

He pounded the path alongside the river, his mood spiralling downwards with every stride. Tennis had been his life for so long, and he’d always found it easy to focus, putting all his energy into winning, but Natalia was becoming a distraction, a risk to his hard-fought success. He’d worked his bollocks off to get to number one in the world, and he had every intention of staying there. He couldn’t allow a woman to destroy all that hard work, no matter how attractive she was. Or funny. Or kind. Or hot.

So goddamned hot.

As his mind turned to the blowjob she’d given him the previous night, his cock twitched. He’d had plenty of oral sex over the years, but no one had blown his mind the way Natalia had.

Realising his pace had slackened, he shook thoughts of Natalia from his mind and lengthened his stride. When he reached five miles, he turned around and headed back to the apartment. Dripping with sweat despite the cold, he chose the stairs instead of the lift, his mood still bleak.

Cash pushed open the door to the apartment, and his bad mood instantly lifted. Natalia was sitting by the window, listening to his iPod, her shapely legs thrown over the arm of the chair, the tails of one of his shirts grazing her smooth golden thighs. She was quietly humming to whatever song was on his playlist. He watched her for a few moments, all earlier doubts forgotten. He’d find a way to make this work, a way that meant he could spend time with her and still focus on his tennis to ensure he stayed at number one. He crossed the room and gently touched her shoulder. Glancing up, she tugged the headphones from her ears. She graced him with a smile—a wide, beautiful smile that made her eyes glow and gave him an instant erection.

“Hey. I wondered where you’d got to. Good workout?”

He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Not bad. Loving the choice of clothes, baby.”

She grimaced. “I really need to buy some more clothes. I can’t exactly wear the two outfits we got in Paris all week.”

He smiled crookedly and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

She frowned. “Why? What have you done?”

He chuckled. She’d already started reading him better than those who’d known him for years. “Get your fine arse out of the chair, and you’ll find out.”

She followed him into the bedroom, and he hesitated before opening one of the wardrobes. She gasped and then giggled.

“Cash Gallagher, your ingenuity knows no bounds.”

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