Page 92 of Match Point

I leaned over to look him in the eyes. “You’ve never seen Rocky? Seriously?”

“Poor fella works hard and wins at boxing,” Tristan said. “Not a story I’m interested in.”

“He doesn’t win, actually,” I said.

“Wow, spoilers.”

Miranda cleared her throat. “I definitely want to order some food. But I don’t think I’m down for a movie. I was hoping we could… have some more fun.”

Tristan and I looked at her.

“Notthe same kind of fun,” she quickly clarified. “My booty is actually a little sore. But some regular fun.”

“Regular threesome fun,” I said.

“Right.”

I looked at my beer and then got up. “I’m going to need some Gatorade first, then. You two go start without me.”

45

Miranda

Was this my life now? Was I the kind of woman who had threesomes with two hot male tennis players?

The whole thing still didn’t feel real, even after we did it a second time. I was barely buzzed this time, totally aware of everything that was going on, and yet it still seemed like a dream. Wedged between two god-like bodies, their chiseled muscles in my view no matter which way I looked. Endless kisses and caresses and moans.

Soon we settled into a nice routine. I started training with Tristan every morning at a facility near me in New Jersey. Unlike the first time I tried coaching him, he was receptive to everything I said. Like a perfect student, he stood where I told him to stand and completed every single drill, even the extremely basic ones that were usually reserved for beginner players. And he didn’t complain once.

He was rough at first. It was difficult to try something new, after all. But he steadily improved, each shot having more accuracy and confidence. I could see that he still had the old muscle memory from when he used a two-handed grip years ago, before switching to one-handed. I just needed to help him bring that muscle memory to the forefront.

Not only was it going well for Tristan, but it was incredibly fulfilling for me as a coach! Watching his improvement every day was more satisfying than I could have expected. Far more satisfying than broadcasting a match on TV.

“You’ve made quite the impression on him,” Tristan’s full-time coach told me one day while we watched him run through footwork drills.

“It helps that he’s eager to improve,” I replied.

The coach shook his head without looking at me. “Not on the court. I meant everything else. He’s smitten.”

I felt my cheeks grow hot. “I don’t know about that.”

Now he turned to look at me. “I do.”

Tristan finished his drill and smiled at me from across the court. “How was that?”

“Do it again,” I called. “Push off quicker with your left foot this time.”

The coach was still staring at me, but I ignored him while focusing on Tristan.

Dominic came by in the afternoons to work on doubles practice. Their two coaches played doubles against them for practice, with me subbing in every now and then. Despite only being doubles partners for a month, they were a good team. Doubles was all about anticipating what your partner would do, matching their footwork to cover areas when they moved. It was like a dance, pushing and pulling each other around the court on invisible strings.

Back when I played doubles earlier in my career, it tookyearsto get to a comfortable level with my partner. Yet Dominic and Tristan fell into it naturally.

Maybe that’s why they’re so good together in the bedroom,I thought.

We continued having threesomes regularly. It wasn’t always as intense as that first time when they double-penetrated me; most times we didn’t do anything involving my ass at all. But it was always really,reallyhot.

It was like I had learned a new tennis serve. Now that it was in my repertoire, I wanted to use it as often as possible.

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