Page 76 of Polo Fever
Later that night, when the celebrations are in full swing, I’m tending to the ponies with the other grooms. As tempting as it is to sack in work to hang out with my champion boyfriend,I’m determined to show everyone that my priorities are in line. I’m a Maycourt groom first, a polo WAG second.
Things are winding down in the stables and there’s only a few of us stragglers left. When Eduardo has done the final checks of the ponies, I volunteer with a junior groom called Jay to finish checking the tack is all clean and sorted while the others head off to join the party. I’m hanging a bridle when I hear the creak of the door as someone leans on it.
‘Oh hey, Mateo,’ Jay says, brightening as I spin round to face him. ‘How’s the party?’
‘Good,’ he replies, his eyes locking on me. ‘You should go join it, Jay.’
‘That’s okay, I said I’d help Ash finish up here.’
‘I’ll help her,’ Mateo says. ‘Go have fun. I insist.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine, I don’t mind—’
‘Jay,’ Mateo says, turning to look at him. ‘Go.’
Fuck me.He’s so commanding and calmly authoritative. It’s fucking sexy. My breath is caught in my throat, my nipples hardening beneath my bra, my heart pounding.
Jay’s eyes dart from him to me and back to him again before he nods and says, ‘Sure. Got it. See you later. Well done again for today, man; it was awesome.’
Mateo gives him a gracious nod and then waits for his hurried footsteps to fade away.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, fighting a smile.
I know exactly what he’s doing here.
‘You know exactly what I’m doing here,’ he answers, staying put where he is. ‘I’ve come looking for someone who appears to be doing her best not to have fun. Tell me, Ash, what is it about this tack room that is so appealing toyou that you’d rather hide away in here than come celebrate with me after we won the Gold Cup?’
‘Who says I’m hiding?’
‘The person who’s been looking for you all night.’
My breathing quickens and my stomach twists with anticipation, a pool of warmth building between my legs.Fuck.Just from a hard gaze, Mateo makes me wet. Just from thethoughtof what he can do to me. I scour his dark eyes, down to his full lips, along his stubbled jaw, across his broad, muscled shoulders, thinking of my nails digging into them until they leave bruises.Marks that he’s mine.I wet my lips and his eyes sharpen.
‘I’m glad you’ve found me,’ I say.
‘Me too,’ he says, pushing himself away from the door frame. ‘I seem to remember a promise you made earlier. I’ve come for collection.’
‘That’s funny becauseIremember you asking me to promise you something, but I never actually agreed to it.’
‘That’s a shame,’ he says in a low voice, stepping across the room towards me. ‘Maybe I can do a little bit of persuading.’
‘That could work in your favour. Although,’ I smile up at him as he stops in front of me, ‘you did win the Gold Cup today. So maybe you do deserve whatever it is you want.’
Placing my palms on his chest, feeling it rise up and down with each heavy, ragged breath, I slide them down in a torturously slow motion until I reach his belt. With a thrill of satisfaction, I watch his throat work as I unclasp the buckle and pull the belt loose, dropping it on the floor with a clank.
‘Ash,’ he says, his voice strained, ‘I don’t have a condom on me.’
‘We don’t need one. I’m on the pill.’
His breathing’s ragged, his dark eyes piercing as he cups my face in his hands. ‘I’m clean. But if you have any hesitation, any worries, we—’
‘No hesitation. I’m sure. Now tell me, Mateo,’ I say, undoing the button of his trousers and pinching the zipper before dragging it down, ‘what is it that you want?’
‘You know it’s only you I want,’ he rasps, his fingers raking through my hair and gripping it tight. ‘All day, you’ve been torturing me in these tight fitted jeans,’ his other hand drops to my arse, squeezing it, ‘and I’ve had to watch the other players look at you like they might be in with a chance.’
‘Ah, so that’s what this is about,’ I say, my finger tracing his skin just above his waistband. ‘Youwerejealous that Basilio made me laugh.’
‘Wildly,’ he admits. ‘I don’t like that feeling.’
