Love Match (Love Match 1)

Then Jesse was coming, his hand still clutching Luke’s as his hips jerked and his body shook. Luke gave his dick one more hard tug before he came, his ass clenching and making Jesse grunt and spasm again before he collapsed onto Luke’s back.

“Oh my god,” Jesse rasped. “That was amazing.” He kissed Luke’s sore shoulder tenderly, his fingers smoothing over Luke’s skin.

“Yeah, it was.”

Jesse pulled out and Luke winced a bit. He’d have a few new sore muscles in the morning, but as Jesse curled up beside him, a huge smile on his face, Luke didn’t give a damn.

Jesse raised his hand for a high-five and Luke slapped his palm accordingly. They were in the semifinals of the Queen’s Club tournament and damned if they weren’t giving the good old Stifflers a run for their money. Luke was sure he and Jesse wouldn’t win, but at least they’d taken a set off the brothers.

He and Jesse fought hard, and the crowd grew as the match progressed. Doubles didn’t always draw many fans, but word spread quickly at a tournament when there was a good match to watch.

The brothers did end up taking it in the third, 7-5. The two teams shook hands at the net before moving to their chairs to gather up their equipment.

“We came pretty close.” Jesse zipped up his hoodie.

“Damn right. Maybe next time we’ll beat the bastards.”

“Hey, we heard that,” Tom Stiffler called out good-naturedly from the other side of the umpire’s chair.

“I know,” Luke said. “You were supposed to.”

“You Americans, always so cocky!”

“Whatever, mate, you Aussies are just as bad!” Jesse said, laughing.

“Bloody oath we are! We’re the best, after all.” Tom’s brother, Ian, grinned.

They all headed back to the clubhouse, going through the players’ tunnel into the locker room. As they ambled along, Tom said, “Sorry to see you go out in the semis to Jennings, Luke.”

“Yeah, me too,” Luke replied.

“But you’re looking good for Wimbledon, mate,” Ian said. “I’d love to see you knock Koehler off his perch.”

“Wouldn’t we all,” said Tom.

They all nodded their agreement. “You know, it’s not that he wins so much, it’s that he’s such a prick about it,” Jesse noted.

Ian replied, “Ain’t that the truth. Hey, good on ya for getting to the quarters in Paris. You’re having a good year, aren’t you? Your ranking must be moving up.”

“Yeah, I’m at seventy-nine this week.”

They arrived at the locker room and started undressing for the shower. Luke kept his eyes averted, since it seemed just the sight of Jesse’s tight little body could make him hard of late.

“I’m at two hundred and fifty in singles.” Ian laughed. “So you’re doing a hell of a lot better than me.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a doubles specialist like you guys,” Jesse said.

“True, true. And we are the best in the world. Have we mentioned that?” Tom grinned.

Luke put on a falsely interested voice. “Really? Oh, do tell us more.”

They all laughed together, joking and taking a strip off each other as they headed to the showers. Despite the earlier loss to Jennings, Luke found himself feeling positive, and he looked forward to the fortnight to come.

The mercurial British weather played havoc on the first day of Wimbledon, causing repeated rain delays. Players hung out in the lounge, playing cards, watching TV, reading, and trying to figure out when the best time to eat was, hoping the skies wouldn’t suddenly clear. There was nothing worse than being called back on court with a full stomach.

Luke put down his book and casually glanced across the lounge to where Jesse was playing poker with a few of the guys. He didn’t seem to be winning, but he was smiling nonetheless. Luke found himself smiling, too.

“See something you like?”

Luke’s head snapped around at the sound of the sneering German accent. Koehler. He lowered himself into the armchair next to Luke’s with a feline grace that belied his size and strength.

Luke raised his eyebrow and nodded towards Rina Depp, the beautiful girlfriend of Jean-Paul Riel. Rina lingered by Riel’s side, whispering something in his ear where they sat just off to the side of Jesse’s card game. “Can’t help myself. She’s a stunner.”

“Mmm. Yes, stunning.” Koehler smiled, and Luke felt a shiver go up his spine. “Beautiful hair. Like the color of gold.”

“You must need glasses, Stein, my old friend. Her hair’s black.”

Koehler smiled again, never taking his eyes from Luke’s. “Ah, so it is.”

Luke looked back down at his book, eyes moving over the words, but not concentrating. Koehler was making him nervous.

“Did you have a good time in Italy, Luke?”

Luke didn’t look up. “Not really. I lost early.”

“But you paid a visit to Venice afterwards, no?”

“Where did you hear that?” Luke’s heart pounded, and he kept his eyes on his book.

“Oh, around. Wonderful city, isn’t it?”