Code of Conduct Page 9

  Gabriela’s eyes were kind. “Yet if I was to bet on this, I would say you attract extravert party types, who think a tennis player’s life is all designer gowns and red-carpet events, yes?”

  Viva feigned outrage. “You’ve been spying on me!”

  “I do not have to. I also would guess that you get an awful lot of men flirting with you. Ones who have no gaydar and do not read anything about you—or don’t care.”

  “Them too. I’ve never hidden my sexuality although I don’t draw attention to it either. But I’ll sometimes get blokes trying to hit on me. Most have no clue I’m gay, but there’s been a couple who want to ‘save me’ and a few who say I’ve just never met the right man, with a big enough dick.”

  Gabriela grimaced. “I would love to hear your put-down.”

  “Nothing too rude. I smile and say, ‘I still haven’t’ and walk off.”

  Somewhere along the way the conversation had muted to something safe that she’d have with a friend. Did she want that? Was Gabriela backing away?

  But then Gabriela reached over and picked up Viva’s hand. She turned it so that it was palm up and uncurled her fingers, one by one. One tanned finger traced Viva’s lifeline, then her heart line. The barely there touch that skated her palm made her shudder.

  “I have accepted that my chances of finding a compatible partner are remote,” Gabriela said. “Not unless I stop travelling on the tour. And that’s not going to happen.”

  “Players sometimes date players. Or they take a partner on tour with them,” Viva said. “Who do officials date?”

  “Sometimes other officials. A few have a partner at home—the lower-ranked officials often only do part of the tour, say only the European leg—so it’s easier on a relationship.”

  “Have you ever known an official to date a player?”

  “No. Never. If anyone ever did, they kept it very secret.”

  “Do you date?” Viva propped her chin on her hand.

  “In the past. Not for a long time. For all of the reasons I have just said.” Gabriela hesitated. “Sometimes… Sometimes, I wonder if it is worth it. I am thirty-eight. Am I missing out on finding a partner because of my career? Occasionally, when I see couples or even a player and her entourage, I feel lonely. But I love my life. I hope maybe that I will find someone and we can make it work.”

  “Would you give up your career for love?”

  Gabriela’s smile was wry. “How can I know the answer until it comes up? Right now, I think not. Would you?”

  “I’ve never considered it. I’ve never had to make the choice, but I think if I had, I would have chosen tennis. Now, though…”

  “Now, you will choose love and plant that vegetable garden.” Gabriela’s eyes crinkled.

  Would she? Would she really? Viva sighed, her thoughts skittering in her head. She pushed them away. She had made her decision. Second-guessing herself would do no good. She focussed again on Gabriela. “Who decides when you get your gold badge? Do you have to wait for someone to retire?”

  “A panel sends you a letter each year giving your level. It depends on the tournaments you’ve worked, complaints against you. That sort of thing.”

  “But you’re not at the end-of-year finals right now. Surely that would be as big an event for an official as it is for a player?”

  The waiter arrived with their desserts and set them down with a smile.

  Gabriela waited until he left before picking up her plate and slicing her lemon myrtle and ginger mousse into two. She slid half onto Viva’s plate.

  The delicate scent of lemon myrtle made Viva’s mouth water. She scooped half of her own dessert—some sort of banana pudding—onto Gabriela’s plate.

  “The tour is too long.” Gabriela continued their conversation as if there was nothing unusual about them sharing desserts like a long-married couple. “Early January to December. I have always taken the whole of December off. Usually a couple of weeks in the middle of the year too. Most officials take some extra time away.” She took a bite of mousse. “This is delicious.”

  “Good choices.”

  “There is a lemon myrtle tree outside my apartment. I pick the leaves to make tea.”

  Viva was silent. Gabriela had mentioned that throwaway fact as if it was nothing. Viva had never made tea with lemon myrtle leaves—hadn’t even known you could. Probably every Aussie knew that—everyone who hadn’t spent two decades of their life on a tennis court, that is.

  There was a whole world out there for her to explore. There was a whole new life for her. Starting now.

  She refocussed on the woman on the other side of the table, watching as Gabriela’s lips closed around a spoonful of mousse with the same precision and economy of movement that she used in the umpire’s chair. What if they weren’t two only-just friends sharing a meal? What if this was a date, a real date that might end with a kiss? Or more. The sort of date that could lead to breakfast the next morning, if she wanted it. If Gabriela did.

  Oh yes, Viva wanted it.

  Gabriela put her spoon down with a small sigh. “I’ll have to run an extra couple of kilometres tomorrow.” Her wide-eyed glance flashed across the table before she lowered her lashes. “Have you decided if you’re going to join me?”

  “Name your time, and I’ll be there.”

  “Six?”

  “That late?” Viva teased. “If we’re having a late start, then we’ve time for coffee now.”

  Gabriela’s smile spread like the sunrise. “I’d like that. There’s a café around the corner that does a good cup, and there are comfortable couches. Shall we go there?”

  “Why not.”

  Chapter 9

  The street was busy when they left the restaurant. It was still before nine, but it was as packed as any Friday night.

  “Maybe there was something happening by the river that’s just finished.” Viva looked in the direction people were coming from.

  A group came towards them, taking up the entire footpath. She grabbed Gabriela’s hand and pulled her to one side so they wouldn’t get separated. Her fingers linked tightly with Gabriela’s and settled into the clasp as if they were long-time lovers.

  Gabriela’s fingers were tense in her clasp, but after a moment they curled around Viva’s hand.

  The coffee shop was packed, with people standing, waiting for tables.

  Butterflies somersaulted in Viva’s stomach. “I live one block that way. We can have coffee at my place.”

  She’d taken a pace away before the tug on her hand stopped her.

  Gabriela hadn’t moved. She stood immobile on the pavement, and the streetlighting accentuated the worry in her dark eyes.

  “Coffee.” The word was clipped.

  Viva frowned. “Isn’t that what we were talking about?”

  “Coffee or coffee?”

  The butterflies lurched into a fast polka. Viva moved closer and freed her hand. She cradled Gabriela’s face, carefully pushing back the short hair so that her fingers touched only skin. Her thumb stroked over Gabriela’s lips in a slow pass.

  Gabriela shivered, a frisson of movement. Her lips parted under the slow to and fro of Viva’s thumb.

  “Haven’t we been moving towards coffee all evening?”

  Gabriela’s eyes were wide and dark. She straightened, lifting her chin. “In the restaurant, something changed. We flirted.”

  “Yes.” Viva’s fingers tingled with the need to touch Gabriela’s lips again.

  “It changed after you said one thing: that you were retiring. Before…anything else, I need you to tell me something.”

  Viva nodded. “Anything.”

  “Did you mean what you said about retiring?”

  For a moment, Viva didn’t understand the question. Then comprehension caught up in a rush. Did she mean it? Did she have a choice? Th
e answer was there in the throb of her wrist, in the telling silences from her mother, from Deepak. She dragged in a breath, held it, and let it out in a long sigh. “I meant it. I’ll make the calls tomorrow.”

  “When will you retire?”

  “Immediately.”

  Gabriela nodded and half-turned away. “I normally would not ask. Asking implies a seriousness that is not yet warranted. But I am crossing a line for you. I am considering it only because you talked retirement, and then I can justify what we are doing.” She was silent for a long moment. Then she said, “But I want this. So very, very much.”

  Viva hesitated. The next move had to be Gabriela’s. Desire beat a low and urgent drum in her blood, but still she waited.

  “Coffee,” Gabriela whispered. “I would like to share coffee with you.” She turned back to stand in front of Viva.

  Viva splayed her fingers down Gabriela’s neck, where the pulse beat fast and frantic. She leant closer, and her lips touched Gabriela’s, pressing lightly, seeking, not demanding. For a moment they rested, lips touching, breaths mingling. The noise and laughter from the coffee shop faded to insignificance. There was only the two of them caught in the glare of the streetlights, a frozen pose as people flowed around them into the café.

  Viva’s breath caught painfully in her throat. Please, kiss me back. Her lips moved, supping, tiny nibbling kisses. Gabriela tasted of lemon myrtle and sugar, but her lips remained still. Disappointment churned in Viva’s chest. Gabriela must have changed her mind. She withdrew, putting some air between her lips and Gabriela’s.

  But then Gabriela closed the gap once more, and suddenly she was kissing Viva back, and her hands rose to tangle in Viva’s hair, pushing into the thick mass to hold her head steady so that there was firmness to the kiss.

  Viva exhaled in a whoosh. Desire coiled sweet and hot in her belly, and colours blurred behind her closed eyes. The slow kiss of before evanesced into the white-hot haze of desire.

  It was only when someone knocked into them with a muttered “sorry” that they broke apart.

  Gabriela swallowed, and her lips formed words, but there was no sound. She swallowed again. She stood immobile, a picture of indecision in the busy street.

  “We can wait. We don’t have to do this.” Viva touched Gabriela’s hand, a light touch and retreat.

  “I want this.” Gabriela closed the gap between them once more. “Convince me there is no reason to wait. Convince me I’m not making a huge mistake. Kiss me again.”

  Viva curved an arm around Gabriela’s waist and drew her closer. “I’d very much like to kiss you again. But only if you’re sure.”

  This time, their lips met halfway, melded to a hot, wet kiss that flickered in a mantle of desire over Viva’s skin until it was as if she were clothed in flame. She was intoxicated by Gabriela’s lips more so than from the wine they’d shared earlier.

  Gabriela was the first to break the kiss. For a moment, she stared into Viva’s eyes with a fierce intensity, as if she were pulling the reassurance she obviously needed from Viva’s mind. She traced a pathway down Viva’s wrist and linked their fingers. “Take me home.”

  The walk was silent. Decision made, there was nothing to be said. Hands joined, they paced the quieter streets to Viva’s apartment.

  Viva led the way inside and turned on a floor lamp. It cast a soft pool of light in the otherwise dark room.

  Viva turned to face her. “Wine?”

  “No, thank you.” Gabriela moved to the window where floor-to-ceiling glass looked over the Brisbane River to the city on the far side.

  Viva moved to stand by her side. Their shoulders brushed. A ferry moved slowly through the inky water to a jetty. The tower blocks of the business district were walls of light, even late in the evening. From their position on the fifteenth floor, the dark humps of Mount Coot-tha were visible, speckled with lights against the sky.

  “It’s very different to Waggs Pocket.” Gabriela’s gaze never left the window.

  “I don’t spend enough time in either place. I’ve owned this for four years now, and I’ve probably spent less than six months in total here.”

  “That could change now. If you want it to.”

  “Yes.” Viva looked out across the bright city. “It could.”

  Gabriela turned to face her, and her fingers rested on Viva’s neck. Hot points of fire licked down to Viva’s stomach. “You didn’t bring me here to look at the view.”

  “No.”

  “You could show me your bedroom.” Gabriela glanced about. “Or we could stay here.”

  “Here?”

  “In front of the window. With the lights of the city below, spread out for us to enjoy.”

  “Someone might see us.”

  Gabriela chuckled. “Who? Unless they are in a helicopter.”

  “It’s always possible.” Viva moved to turn off the lamp. Now the only light was the diffused glow of the city coming through the tinted glass.

  Gabriela took her hands and drew her closer.

  Viva pulled the buttons of Gabriela’s shirt open and eased the material aside until she could see her skin, burnished bronze in the light. Her fingertips brushed Gabriela’s skin, shooting sparks of fire into her palms. She ached with the need to smooth her hands over more of Gabriela’s body.

  Gabriela kissed her, taking the lead. Now that the decision to do this had been made, it seemed she was an assertive lover. The leader. The official.

  Viva sagged against her, helpless in the face of Gabriela’s passion. Gabriela’s kiss seared her lips, branding her, yet it was gentle. It moved around, sipping, lingering, or was simply the press of warm lips, the touch of tongue. An echo of the sweetness of dessert. The kiss was hot and persuasive, fanning the fires of arousal that coiled deep in Viva’s belly. How deep could she fall into her without drowning? How long could she just keep kissing her? The wine they had drunk was surely responsible for some of her light-headedness, but not all.

  They swayed together, the fusion of their mouths leading to the slow press of bodies. Gabriela’s hands tangled in Viva’s hair, drawing Viva even closer.

  Viva’s knees buckled as she responded to Gabriela’s urging, her breath coming in short, fast pants. She broke the kiss long enough to draw a deep breath and looked down at Gabriela. Her heavy-lidded eyes were slumberous, and her lips curved in a slight smile.

  “Enough?” Gabriela asked.

  Viva couldn’t answer. Enough? They were only just beginning. Heat and desire twisted deep in her belly, and she wanted nothing more than to sink to her knees in front of Gabriela, pull her clothes away, and explore her naked body. Soon. Very soon.

  She moved back, pulled her top over her head, and unsnapped her bra. After returning to Gabriela, she reached behind her to remove her bra also.

  City lights made mosaics on Gabriela’s skin, urban colours—red, yellow, orange. On Gabriela’s darker skin, they turned into the colours of flame.

  Viva pressed her hand against Gabriela’s small breasts, her fingers splaying over the warm flesh. A hard nipple peeked through. Viva bent to take it in her mouth, flicking the nub with her tongue until Gabriela moaned.

  The sound sent a thrill through Viva, reverberating in her body.

  She manoeuvred them so that Gabriela faced the window and she stood behind, the delicate curve of Gabriela’s spine pressed against Viva’s breasts. Gabriela’s head rested back on Viva’s shoulder. Viva inched her fingers slowly up Gabriela’s body, skimmed her breasts, circled her nipples, then skated back to her waist, to where the tailored pants were fastened with a clasp. She ran one finger over Gabriela’s belly, and Viva delighted in the shiver of skin, the desire evident in the harsh breathing loud in the quiet room. Even though the room was cool, she was melting, burning with the need to feel Gabriela’s skin pressed full-body on her own.

  Enc
ircling Gabriela’s waist, she fumbled with the clasp until Gabriela took pity on her and undid it herself.

  She turned to face Viva, and the heat in the brown eyes caught Viva’s breath in her throat. Without breaking contact, Gabriela lowered her pants and undies. When they fell at her feet, she kicked them aside.

  Oh, God. Desire burned brighter, engulfing her. Viva’s palms itched to explore every centimetre of that glorious bronze skin. Her heart sped up, thundering in an urgent pulse.

  Naked, Gabriela cocked her head. “Are you just going to stand there?”

  Was she? No. The urgency to complete filled her. She could push Gabriela back against the window, drop to her knees in front of her, place one of Gabriela’s legs over her shoulder, and taste her, really taste her, without further ado or foreplay. She clenched her teeth, willing her imagination to subside. Slow down. Give her time. She closed her eyes, reeling her heated thoughts back to a calmer place.

  “Do it.” The words were low, throaty.

  Viva’s eyes snapped open. She needed to see if the desire in Gabriela’s words was echoed in her face.

  The sparkle in Gabriela’s eyes reflected the thoughts in Viva’s head. “Do what you’re imagining. And then I’ll do the same to you.”

  Viva’s breath shuddered from her body, leaving her light-headed. Gabriela’s words had conjured images, scenes of the two of them in an abandoned naked dance, their bodies joined.

  She kissed her again, imprinting her mouth over Gabriela’s. The other woman met her kiss for kiss, a give and take of lips and tongues.

  Gabriela backed up until her spine rested against the glass door that led to the balcony.

  Viva paused. Gabriela’s lean lines beckoned. Her skin glowed warm in the low light; her slight curves and planes of muscle were sculptured by shadow.

  “Beautiful,” Viva whispered reverently.

  She kissed her way along Gabriela’s neck once more, down to where her breasts curved softly. A taste of each nipple and then she knelt as her fingers preceded her lips, feathering down over Gabriela’s belly, flickering as lightly as flame, until her hands paused on Gabriela’s hips.