Champions Ball
Laure watched Sinjin pose for photographs with men’s champion Rafael Nadal, who had put his own knee problems behind him to claim his third title. Sinjin’s cream-colored suit perfectly complemented her caramel skin. She looked good enough to eat. The kisses they had shared earlier that day had been mere appetizers. Laure couldn’t wait to get her first real taste.
Though Sinjin was obligated to attend the Champions Ball, Laure knew she would have preferred rounding up the troops for one last meal at the small restaurant she had frequented nearly every night during the tournament. The swanky black-tie affair at the All England Club would have to do.
The round table they had been assigned was filled with family and friends. Okay, family.
Nicolas, Stephanie, Kendall, Henri, Mathilde, and Gabrielle and her date each raised a glass to toast Sinjin’s victory.
Applause greeted her return to the table.
“I’ve been smiling so much my face hurts.”
Laure massaged Sinjin’s sore cheeks. “Do your lips still work?”
Sinjin grinned. “Give me a couple of hours and I’ll show you.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever slept with a Wimbledon champion before.”
Sinjin draped her arm across the back of Laure’s chair. “Then get ready because I’m going to take you on the ride of your life.”
Laure reflected on the roller coaster ride they had taken the past few weeks. “You already did.”
“Ready for one more?”
Laure had her answer ready even before Sinjin finished asking the question. “When do we leave?”
*
Laure looked so good in her ocean blue vintage Chanel dress and jaunty Hermès scarf, Sinjin almost didn’t want to take them off. Almost. She lightly traced a finger over Laure’s collarbone, smiling at the involuntary shiver she caused. She reached around and unzipped the dress. As her tongue explored Laure’s mouth, she pushed the spaghetti straps off Laure’s shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor. Then she took a step back. Laure stood before her clad in a lacy navy blue bra, matching high-cut panties, and the printed silk scarf.
“You’re so beautiful you take my breath away.”
“You’ve seen me wearing less than this in the locker room.”
“But I wasn’t getting ready to do what I’m about to do to you.”
Laure’s lips curled into a smile. “What are you going to do to me?”
Sinjin shrugged off her jacket and tossed it in a nearby chair. “Everything.” She picked Laure up and carried her to the bed. While everyone else continued to celebrate, they had returned to Laure’s rented house, where they were blissfully, utterly alone.
Sinjin unclasped Laure’s bra and tossed it aside.
Laure lifted her hips as Sinjin peeled off her underwear. “I’m going to come before you even touch me,” she said, her breath quickening.
“Don’t you dare.”
Sinjin untied the scarf. Laure hissed when Sinjin slowly trailed the cool silk across her skin. Her hips rose off the bed. “As I was saying.” A note of caution crept into her voice.
Heeding the warning, Sinjin quickly undressed and covered Laure’s body with hers.
Laure ran her hands down Sinjin’s back and over her ass. She squeezed Sinjin’s hips and lifted her own, pressing their centers together. “God, you feel good.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Sinjin returned the pressure—and the compliment. “So do you.”
She licked the hollow of Laure’s throat, eliciting a soft moan. Wanting—needing to hear the sound again, she moved lower. Her lips skimmed across Laure’s chest, sliding softly and wetly across the smooth skin until her mouth closed around one of Laure’s pert breasts.
Laure’s nails raked across Sinjin’s back. Sinjin cried out at the unexpected but pleasant sensation. Keeping her eyes on Laure’s, she moved to the other breast. As she tongued an erect nipple, she watched Laure’s dark brown eyes turn almost black, her tanned face flush. Seeing Laure so free, so uninhibited made her want her even more.
She slipped her hand between their gyrating hips. Laure gasped when Sinjin’s fingers massaged her swollen clit.
“God.” Laure buried her face in the side of Sinjin’s neck and nipped at the skin.
Sinjin threw her head back, enjoying the pleasure that bordered on pain. Then she kissed Laure’s tumescent lips and slipped her tongue past them into her mouth. She groaned when Laure’s tongue met hers, moving in concert with her fingers. She pulled away.
“Be with me.”
Laure reached for Sinjin’s hips and pulled her closer. “I am. I’m right—” Her eyes slid shut as she moved closer to the precipice. She opened them again after she gained some semblance of control. “I’m right here.”
Sinjin shook her head. “Be with me.”
She looked into Laure’s eyes and waited until they were connected. She waited until Laure stiffened, shuddered, and relaxed. She waited until her own finely tuned body short-circuited and rebooted. She waited until the gathering storm had unleashed its fury. Then she said the words she had never uttered to anyone else. Anyone except Laure. “I love you. Let’s make a life together.”
“How?” Laure glanced at the replica of the Ladies’ Plate resting on the nightstand. “What about your career? Today could be the beginning of incredible things for you.”
“It is.” Sinjin lay on her back and pulled Laure on top of her. She brushed a lock of Laure’s sweat-dampened hair off her forehead. “It’s the beginning of the first day of my life with you. So what do you say? Could a thriving young vintner use an assistant?”
Laure’s smile was as bright as the sun. She eyed Sinjin’s body. “I’ll have to see your qualifications.”
Sinjin gasped as Laure’s hands skittered across her skin. Desire burst into flame, warming her inside and out. She reached for her. “You’re the boss.”
Cool Down
Saint Tropez
Several Years Later
Laure walked past a glass display case filled with trophies. Along with assorted other gold and silver cups and vases, three trophies from the U.S. Open, two from Wimbledon, and one each from the Australian Open and the French Open lay inside.
Clutching a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other, Laure padded barefoot to the backyard. Sinjin sat in a high-backed chair, her long legs stretched in front of her. In the distance, Nicolas and Stephanie held hands as they walked through the rows of grape-laden vines. Her parents walked alongside them. Her father, carrying Nicolas and Stephanie’s two-year-old on his shoulders, led the way.
Laure placed the bottle and glasses on a small metal table and sat in a chair identical to the one occupied by Sinjin. She cut the seal on the bottle, inserted a corkscrew, and deftly popped the cork.
Sinjin held the cork under her nose and inhaled deeply. Under Laure’s tutelage, she had quickly learned the ins and outs and subtle nuances of winemaking. Everything from the selection of grapes to the advantages of manual harvesting over mechanical. She couldn’t yet identity a vintage simply by taste the way Laure could, but she loved practicing. Their business had taken off during their time together, both the vineyard and its production tripling in size. Though business was booming, family life had never been more settled. Neither would have it any other way.
“Nice bouquet.”
“Isn’t it?” Laure poured the wine and handed a glass to Sinjin.
Sinjin swirled the rich, fragrant liquid and took a sip. “Mmm. Which one’s this?”
Laure spun the bottle so Sinjin could see the vintage printed underneath the crossed racquets on the label.
“Excellent year.”
“I thought so, too.”
The label was stamped with the year Sinjin had won Wimbledon. The year she and Laure had become a couple. The year their disparate lives had become one.
Sinjin looked out at the horizon. The sky over their hundreds of acres of jointly owned prope
rty had taken on the hue of a brightly colored Impressionist painting. She held out her hand. “Another terrible sunset.”
“I know,” Laure said with a grin. She laced their fingers together, the gold wedding band on the ring finger of her left hand glowing in the light of the setting sun. “Maybe tomorrow will be better.”
Sinjin held up her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
About the Author
Yolanda Wallace is not a professional writer, but she plays one in her spare time. She has written two previous novels, In Medias Res and Rum Spring. Her short stories have appeared in multiple anthologies including UniformSex, Body Check, Bedroom Eyes, Best Lesbian Love Stories: New York City, and Best Lesbian Love Stories: Summer Flings. She and her partner of ten years live in beautiful coastal Georgia. They are parents to four children of the four-legged variety—a six-year-old boxer and three cats ranging in age from seven to ten. Yolanda can be reached at [email protected].
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