Sweet Spot
Lucy Felthouse
Virginia Miller is an up-and-coming tennis star. She’s gone from a ratty tennis court in a park in south London to the world’s top training facility—Los Carlos Tennis Academy in California. In awe of the talent around her, Virginia is all the more determined to make the most of the opportunity and show that she’s worthy of her place there. Her mentor, Nadia Gorlando, has every faith in her.
But Virginia finds herself distracted—Nadia, as well as being a top-notch tennis player, is seriously sexy and Virginia’s mind keeps wandering where it shouldn’t. Will her crush get in the way of her career or can she find a way to push the other woman out of her mind before it’s too late?
A Romantica® lesbian erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Sweet Spot
Lucy Felthouse
Prologue
Nadia Gorlando and I had just gotten off the exercise bikes in the gym when one of the academy’s coaches, Peter Ross, headed over to us, all smiles.
“Hey, Nadia,” he said, his all-American grin widening and his blond hair flopping down over his forehead, “I need a huge favor.”
I flicked my gaze to Nadia. She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows and waited for him to continue. He did.
“I totally lost track of time just now and I have an appointment with Travis Connolly. Would you mind wiping down my machine for me? Or maybe stick a note on it saying it’s out of order? I don’t want to leave it all sweaty for someone else. You’ll be doing me a real solid. I’ll owe you.”
My jaw almost hit the floor.
Now Nadia rolled her eyes, looked over at the offending machine then back at Peter. “Sure, I understand,” she said, as cool as ice. “The world’s number one can’t wait. Go right ahead—I’ll fix it for you.”
He babbled a load of thanks then jogged out of the gym.
I gaped at her. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”
Nadia chuckled. “Of course not. He may be coaching Travis Connolly and Rufus Lampani for the US Open but that doesn’t mean I’m going to clean up his mess.” She pointed with her chin over to the machine Peter had just vacated. “Come on, V, I’ll show you how I’m going to deal with this.”
I followed her, grinning. Her tone told me that it was going to be something fun. Well, for us anyway. Probably not for Peter.
Sure enough, when she returned from the room off the side of the gym she had a pad of paper and a pen in her hands. Deliberately shielding the pad from my view, she wrote something down then pulled off the top sheet. Folding it, she then propped it on the sweat-slicked seat so the writing was on view to anyone who happened past.
When I’d read and absorbed the words I turned to Nadia, impressed. Her smile lit up her face, showing dimples in each cheek, and her brown eyes gleamed with amusement.
It was in that moment that I decided I had the serious hots for Nadia Gorlando.
The sign read,
PLEASE EXCUSE THE STATE OF THIS MACHINE. PETER ROSS, TENNIS COACH SUPREMO, “LOST TRACK OF TIME”.
Chapter One
I remained in my seat for a couple of seconds, utterly stunned, as Travis Connolly’s Grand Slam victory was announced. He’d done it! In spite of his accident, his hard work had paid off and he was now racing off the court and toward his team—Peter, Marie, Austin, Samuel and a few others. I was a few rows back, which was perfectly understandable given that the only link I had to Connolly was the fact we shared the same training facility. Though looking at him now, he probably didn’t need Los Carlos anymore. He was back on form, the world at his feet once more. Hopefully, if I worked hard, I’d be in his position one day. Not winning the men’s title, of course, but I, Virginia Miller, could be another British tennis champion.
I had a long way to go, obviously. I wasn’t even seeded yet, never mind in the upper echelons. But I was determined if nothing else.
Shaking my aspirations from my thoughts, I carefully pushed my way through the excitable crowd to get down to the group from Los Carlos. I knew I was lucky to be there in the first place. As someone so low down on the sporting career ladder, I should really have been back at the academy, working my arse off, but apparently Austin had been feeling generous and thought I should have firsthand experience of a major tournament. I hadn’t had the heart to tell him I’d been to Wimbledon a couple of times already. It had practically been on my doorstep back in London and a visit at an early age had sparked my love of the sport in the first place. Plus there was no way I was going to turn down the chance to visit a foreign tournament. Especially since Nadia was playing. And she’d gotten right through to the final.
She hadn’t won, unfortunately, but it had been very exciting to watch the matches she’d played. I hadn’t paid an awful lot of attention to the ball or the rackets or even the other players though. I’d just let my gaze wander over Nadia’s delectable figure for the duration of her matches. The determined set of her face throughout, the bounce of her glossy brunette ponytail, her muscular yet feminine legs, the slight jig of the breasts that her sports top couldn’t quite keep in check… she was gorgeous. And I really liked her personality too. She’d looked after me so well since I’d been at the academy. Been a mentor of sorts.
When I reached the group they were still exchanging kisses, handshakes and claps on the back with Connolly. I tried to catch his eye, give him the thumbs-up or something, but he was too caught up in Marie, the academy’s psychologist. And given the way he’d picked her up and spun her around and was now kissing her, I suspected she was a little more than that to him.
They carried on kissing for a little while, clearly uncaring of the millions of people who were watching them either in person or on the television. Finally Connolly pulled away, took Marie’s hand and dropped to one knee. I gasped—and I wasn’t the only one. Similar sounds echoed around me and people started to murmur. Was he really going to…?
Yes, it seemed he was. Glad I was close enough to hear what he was saying, I waited, eager to know what would happen next. Would she say yes? Women all over the world would marry him in a heartbeat, I was sure, but perhaps Marie felt differently.
“Marie Sherratt,” Connolly said, clearing his throat, then continuing. “Marie Sherratt, I know we didn’t have the most auspicious of starts, what with me not being into psychobabble and all, but now, months down the line, I don’t care about that. All I care about is that the most caring, giving, intelligent, beautiful and sexy woman on the planet loves me and I love her. And more than anything, I want to make it official. So I have a question to ask. Marie, will you marry me?”
The crowd held its collective breath for a millisecond then erupted in cheers, screams and wolf-whistles. Such was the din that in spite of the short distance I couldn’t hear her reply, but the beaming grin on her face and her body language indicated that she’d said yes. As did the fact that her now-fiancé picked her up and swung her around again. They were a couple very much in love, and although it was nice to see it also made me feel a little sad and quite a lot jealous.
Instinctively I looked around for Nadia, whom I hadn’t seen since she’d left the court after her devastating defeat. That had been when I’d headed to the center court to see Connolly play. I’d thought perhaps Nadia would make her way into the crowd to watch the rest of the tournament but I couldn’t spot her. It didn’t mean she wasn’t there, of course. The stadium held rather a lot of people and she was just one face among thousands. But she was very important to me.
Before long I was swept up in the excitement of the Los Carlos gang, what with a Grand Slam win and a marriage proposal, and I didn’t get a chance to continue looking for Nadia. As soon as I heard mention of a celebratory party that evening, though, I found myself hoping I’d
bump into her there.
* * * * *
Back at the hotel later that day, I was spending time dithering over my wardrobe. Not the actual thing made of wood, obviously, but the garments inside. I’d known there would be some swanky events taking place in New York over the course of the US Open, but I didn’t know the venues, or how many. As a result I’d brought pretty much every posh dress I owned. And as I stood gazing at them all I couldn’t decide whether it was a blessing or a curse. I was sure to have something that would catch Nadia’s eye, but only if I actually picked something, put it on and got to the damn party.
Then there was the small matter of finding out whether she even batted for the same team as me. I’d heard rumors about her but had no concrete proof. She’d been really nice and helpful toward me ever since I’d arrived at the academy, and we’d spent a lot of time together as a result of her mentoring, but I still wasn’t sure. I was never sure, actually. I didn’t seem to have the functioning gaydar that many people had, and as a result I’d spent most of my adult life as a somewhat sad singleton. I was no virgin but I’d only had a handful of encounters and they’d all been instigated either by the other woman or alcohol.
I suspected some of the latter would be essential for me to actually get the answer to my question. Especially since, if I got confirmation from Nadia that she was into women, I then had to find out if she was into me.Christ, relationships were such a minefield. It was no wonder I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had an orgasm that hadn’t been sparked by my own hand or a sex toy.
After a glance at my watch told me I only had an hour to go before the party started, I closed my eyes, put my hand into the wardrobe and resolved to wear the first dress I touched. When my fingers brushed fabric I opened my eyes and pulled out the dark-purple number I’d blindly selected. Grabbing a pair of shoes that would go with the dress from the closet floor, I closed the doors, hung my dress from the handle and put the shoes down. Then I stripped off the clothes I’d worn all day and headed for the shower.
I deliberately took my time, washing and conditioning my hair, brushing my teeth, applying body scrub all over—except my sensitive bits, of course—shaving my legs, armpits and pussy then applying a generous layer of shower gel. Once I was done, I was massively tempted to masturbate but I reasoned with myself. The arousal that pumped through my veins, swelled my pussy lips and resulted in a delicious sensation between my legs could be to my benefit. That horniness would only increase when I saw Nadia, and perhaps the aching need of my neglected body would spur me on to achieve my goal—getting into her knickers. Or her heart, whichever came first. Or easiest.
Arriving in the function room five minutes into the party, I was pleased with myself. One, for not being too early and looking like a saddo or an alcoholic, and two, because I looked good. I didn’t often think that, but the purple dress and black patent high heels made my legs look slim and a mile long, and emphasized my athletic frame and ample chest. I showed just a hint of cleavage—enough to entice, hopefully, but far from enough to make me look cheap. Taking a deep breath, I headed straight for the bar and ordered a vodka and Coke, my poison of choice. The bill for the party was being footed by the academy and Travis Connolly’s sponsors, so I didn’t even have to pay. I could get well lubricated for free before I executed my plan.
Knocking back the first drink, I signaled for another then carried it farther into the room, subtly looking around to see who was already there and who was yet to arrive. Unsurprisingly the main man hadn’t yet graced us with his presence. Nor had Marie, and a smirk took over my lips as I realized why. They’d just got engaged for heaven’s sake—they were probably fucking each other’s brains out up in their hotel room. I couldn’t say I blamed them. It had been an exciting day, especially for them, and they probably had lots of adrenaline coursing through their veins. What better way to make use of it?
Hoping I could make my day more exciting, I continued to look around the room, which was filling in dribs and drabs. Austin and a bunch of the academy staff and athletic sponsors were at a table in the corner, already making a good start on bottles of expensive champagne by the looks of it. In another corner, to my surprise, I spotted Peter Ross and Rufus Lampani looking pretty cozy. As I tried to reason that maybe they were just good friends, I watched Peter slip a hand around the back of Lampani’s neck and pull him in for a lingering kiss. Raising my eyebrows, I averted my gaze. Wow. If things went to plan with Nadia the academy would have a gay couple and a lesbian couple. Talk about equal rights.
Just as her name flitted through my mind again, a movement from the corner of my eye drew my attention, then a feminine voice spoke.
“Hey, V. How’s it going?”
Chapter Two
I spun around so fast that some of my drink sloshed over the side of the glass and went over my hand. “Fuck.” At least it hadn’t gone on my dress, or Nadia’s for that matter—that wouldn’t have been a very good way to chat her up.
Raising her eyebrows, Nadia said, “Was that a curse or an offer?”
Clearly I hadn’t had enough to drink, as instead of coming back with a wickedly sassy response I stuttered and gibbered utter nonsense at her until she cut me off.
“I’m just kidding with you, sweetheart. Want another drink? What is it?”
“Vodka and Coke.”
“Coming right up.”
With that, she turned on her heel and headed toward the bar, leaving me gaping like a fish in her wake. Attractive. Bloody nerves. I hadn’t even asked her how she was feeling about her defeat. Though of course if I did I’d word it better than that. Hopefully. Actually I’d only said four words since she’d arrived and none of them had been particularly meaningful, so surely it couldn’t get any worse?
Taking a couple of healthy gulps of the drink in my hand, I hoped the booze would kick in soon and give me just enough of a buzz to loosen my tongue. But not so much that I thought karaoke and dancing on the tables was a good idea. Not that this do had karaoke—it was much too classy. Or at least it was classy at the moment—it was still early. I’d never been to a party full of world-famous athletes before. Perhaps things got messy after a while. I guessed I’d find out soon enough.
I glanced around the room, trying to look as though I belonged, as though I didn’t feel as awkward as fuck waiting for my crush to return. My gaze was drawn back to Nadia, so I let it be. She had her back to me anyway and I drank in the sight of her, her long brunette hair free from its constraints for once. And as for the knee-length black dress and strappy silver heels…well, let’s just say they made her look so gorgeous it hurt.
By the time she came back I only had a tiny bit of my liquid courage left, so I finished it, put the glass down on a nearby table and took the one she offered with a smile.
“Thanks.”
She shrugged. “No problem. It’s not as if I paid for it. So, what did you think of today?”
“Um, well, it was great that Travis won, obviously…” I didn’t know what else to say. How could I discuss this subject without mentioning her knock out?
“Hey, you don’t have to sugarcoat it, V. I had the women’s title within my grasp and I blew it. But I’m not bitter. Sasha Cross deserved to win. She played better than I did. It looks as if I’m not leaving the academy any time soon. Not least ’til I’ve got a Grand Slam title under my belt. Hopefully that’ll be the Australian Open.”
My heart leaped and a warm feeling permeated my body. I hadn’t thought of it like that. Yes, being beaten in the final was shit for Nadia but brilliant for me. It removed some of the urgency from my plan, certainly. And if I got my head out of my arse and got on with it—and everything went my way, of course—we could have a few months together before she had to leave the country for any length of time.
“Yeah, hopefully,” I said, slurping some more of my V and C. “I’m confident you can do it. You were fantastic today. The two of you were so well-matched. I think you were just unlucky.”
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Nadia grinned. “You’re just being nice now.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I speak only the truth.” I kept my face straight so she didn’t think I was taking the piss out of her.
“Ah, you Brits and your stiff upper lip.” She touched my arm. Only lightly but it felt as though someone had just run a thousand volts through it. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.
“Well,” Nadia continued, seemingly unaware of my reaction to her touch, “you know what? I’ll take it. I stand by what I said about Sasha deserving to win but that doesn’t mean my ego isn’t bruised. It could do with a massage.”
God, I’d like to massage it. And the rest of you.
I smiled tightly. “Well, I’ve done my bit. There’s not much more I can add to what I already said. That’s my massage. Perhaps we can go and get someone else to come and help?”
“Don’t you dare,” she said, grabbing my arm as I pretended to turn away and look for someone. “I’m not quite ready to talk to anyone else yet. They might not be as complimentary as you’ve been. Stay with me until I’ve had enough wine to make it so I don’t care?”
Well, how could a girl refuse an offer like that? “Wow,” I said before I could stop myself, “I’m glad I can entertain you in the meantime.”
She snatched her hand away as though she’d been burned. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.” Her eyes were wide, her tone earnest. “I’m not using you to hide behind. I’m just getting up enough courage to face everyone else, and spending some time with someone I really like first. I see you as a friend, you know, V—not just a colleague or someone I’ve taken under my wing.”
By the time she’d finished speaking, my heart was threatening to burst right out of my chest. First with anger then going through a multitude of other emotions before settling on happiness with a healthy dollop of confusion. Part of me wanted to float away on her lovely words but the other part of me couldn’t help questioning them. Did she really mean that? That she saw me as a friend? And when she’d made the comment earlier about my “fuck” being an offer, had that been just a silly joke, or flirtation? Come to think of it, she’d been touching me too, and mirroring my body language…