Page 92 of Match Point

‘Thank you, now tell me what’s wrong,’ he insists, his brow creasing. ‘You haven’t been yourself the last couple of days. I’m worried I’ve done something. Talk to me, please.’

I sigh, looking down at the floor and smiling hopelessly, even though my head is a giant muddle. This makes me fall for him even harder. The way he cares so much. The way he notices things. The way he looks so helpless right now, as though he needs to know what’s affecting me because it’s affecting him.

‘I’m worried,’ I admit.

‘About?’ he prompts, his eyes searching my expression now that we’re getting somewhere.

‘About… this,’ I say, gesturing to the gap between us. ‘I don’t know what it is and I don’t know where it’s going. It’s happened so fast and I… I’m scared of getting hurt. Wimbledon has to end and then what happens from there? I don’t want to lose myself in the moment and then deal with shitty consequences.’

There. I’ve found a way to say how I feel without throwing Neil under the bus.

‘Flossie, I get that you’re organised, but are you so organised that you have to plot out an entire relationship when you’re only a week or so in?’ Kieran says, with a hint of amusement in his tone.

‘Don’t make fun of me,’ I huff. ‘We’re in unusual circumstances and I’m trying to protect both of us. I can’t read your mind; I don’t know what you’re thinking.’

He reaches out and, resting his finger beneath my chin, he gently tilts it up so I’m looking into his deep blue eyes.

‘I don’t know what this is, but I know this is something,’ he insists in a low, gravelly voice, the lightness in his tone banished. ‘I can’t see into the future and I don’t want to second-guess what you want, but if I have it my way, this is going to go way beyond the end of Wimbledon.’

My stomach flips, my heart beating so hard it’s going to explode from my chest at any second if he doesn’t stop looking at me like that.

‘Does that help clear things up for you?’ he asks, his hand on my hip sliding round to my lower back and bringing me closer to him. My bag drops from my shoulder to the floor with a thud that echoes round the room.

‘Yeah,’ I croak. ‘A little.’

‘Hmm, sounds like you need a bit more persuading,’ he growls, his gaze flaring, a coy smile playing across his lips.

The moment he bows his head to claim my mouth with his, a fierce desperation consumes my body. Fuck Neil. I’ve kept myself from Kieran for two days and it’s felt like an eternity. Raking my hands through his hair, I arch into him and nip at his lip, and a groan rumbles deep in his throat, a sound that almost makes me combust on the spot.

As our kiss grows more urgent, I drag my hands down his chest, finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it upwards, allowing him to yank it off properly himself before I pull his mouth to mine again, craving every inch of him. Cradling my head in his hands, he kisses me fiercely, pressing his body against mine and manoeuvring us until my back is up against something cold and solid, and I realise he’s pinned me against the lockers.

As he traces kisses down my neck, nudging the strap of my dress off my shoulder, he drops one hand to my hip and it finds its way under my skirt and into my thong. His fingers rub between my legs, knocking the breath right out of me, his lips returning to my mouth to capture my moan in his.

‘Can’t be too loud,’ he reminds me with a devilish smile, his eyes flaring. ‘We don’t want to get caught.’

His free hand finds mine and lifts it above my head, grasping my wrist and pinning it against the wood. I’m completely at his mercy. He increases the pressure on my clit, winding me up until I’m begging to have him in hoarse whispers, my nails digging into the nape of his neck, feeling him hard against me. I need you, I hear myself say in his ear, too close to the edge to hold back what I want to say.

‘Tell me you have a condom in your bag,’ he growls, his fingers slowing so I have some chance at answering him coherently.

‘Actually I do,’ I admit, a shy smile creeping across my lips. ‘It’s in the side pocket.’

He pulls back to look at me, impressed. ‘Did you put one in there this morning in the hope that this would happen?’

‘Sure.’

His lips twitching, he exhales through his nose. ‘I’m going to pretend to believe you.’

Leaving me breathing heavily leaning back against the locker while he bends down to grab it, I thank Iris over and over in my head for the time she made me put one in there when we were headed on a night out together.

‘You never know what might happen and, trust me, when you’re in that moment, you want to know you have protection handy,’ she’d said with a wink.

Thank you, Iris. You were right, I think, hearing the sound of the foil ripping. Thank you, thank you, thank you—

He’s in front of me now, pushing down his shorts, rolling the protection on and within a split second, his hands are under my thighs, lifting me up, my dress hitching up round my hips as my legs tighten around his waist. Fuck, this is hot. I’ve decided that this is my favourite place to be, up here in his arms, our bodies locked together, fitting perfectly.

My back pressed against the lockers, he balances me there with one hand, while he guides himself into me with his other, nudging my underwear aside and sliding in with a quick, deep thrust. I whimper and he starts moving quicker and quicker, his hips grinding into me, sending me into a spiral of dizzying pleasure. As he grunts into my neck, I tighten around him, brought back to the edge in record time. I gasp his name, my nails etching dents into the skin across his shoulders.

‘Come with me, baby,’ he says hoarsely.

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