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“So why tennis again for our public debut?” Chloe asks after taking a sip from her refreshing margarita.
Beca tilts her head towards Chloe, her sunglasses falling to the tip of her nose, her blue eyes sparkling with the playful mood she’s been experiencing all day. The smudginess of Beca’s eyeliner reminds Chloe of how Beca looked the night before her head between Chloe’s thighs, makeup smudged from their first round and Beca tongue-deep reaching for round two. Chloe takes a much longer sip of her drink to cool off the flash of desire that pools at her insides.
“It’s Serena Williams and booze, Chlo,” Beca says, licking her lips after catching the flush that has surfaced from Chloe’s chest below the necklace with the golden ‘B’ Beca gave her all the way to her cheeks. She’s starting to wonder if having Chloe by her side while she’s attempting to learn and be enthusiastic about sports was a good idea because her girlfriend is honestly a much better view and far more interesting than the spark of interest Beca felt towards tennis.
Chloe grins at that reply. She loves that Beca just simplified one of the world’s most watched events to two basic components of some of her favorite things.
“Plus, the blood-sucking media vamps seem very surprised by our appearance together and it’s always fun to get the one-up on those fuckers,” Beca says as she throws a big grin at one of the cameras that’s panning over the audience in their section, her tongue slightly sticking out between her teeth.
Chloe cackles at Beca’s brazen attitude. The pleased look on her girlfriend’s face stirring a little playfulness of her own. “We should attempt to play at the park one day. I played a little in high school and it’s actually really fun once you get the hang of it and can rally against your partner. I would love to teach you.”
“I don’t know if this is another one of your traps to get me to participate in unnecessary physical activity,” Beca says, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “But I’m willing to overlook it to see you in a tennis outfit,” she finishes with a wink and smirk directed at Chloe.
“How generous of you, babe,” Chloe hums. “Of course, there wouldn’t be much to teach you,” she says as she reaches over with her right hand to run it up and down Beca’s forearm. “You see, a lot of the skill behind tennis lies in the power and strength of your forearms and your hips. You use the strength behind your hips to push the ball faster and you control the direction of the ball with your forearms to guide the racket and put power behind your strokes. Both of which I think you have an excellent understanding of, do you agree?” She bites her lip to keep from grinning at the look of Beca’s half-lidded eyes which are focused intently on her lips.
“Beca,” Chloe questions after Beca has yet to respond to her teasing. “Baby,” she says as she pinches Beca’s forearm, releasing a chuckle as Beca finally looks up from Chloe’s lips and seems present again.
“Yeah, yup. Mhmm,” Beca says as she looks into Chloe’s eyes and tries to reel herself back in from the fantasy Chloe’s words and touch had produced. She takes the hand that Chloe had on her forearms and intertwines their fingers bringing Chloe’s hand up to her lips, giving it a kiss that she wishes she could place upon Chloe’s lips. “You’re lucky you’re fucking cute and we agreed there’d be no kissing at this thing. You’re not playing fair, Beale,” Beca jokingly grumbles.
Chloe squeezes Beca’s hand in solidarity, already counting the minutes until they’re back in the privacy of their car service to kiss Beca.
She also can’t help herself as she leans closer to Beca. “You’ve been served, Mitchell,” she quips and quickly nips at Beca’s ear before straightening in her seat again. She feels every ounce of her being buzzing with joy from finally having a label to hers and Beca’s relationship and having gone public with it on their own terms.
Serena Williams may win at the end of this game, but Chloe Beale’s just happy to have finally met her match in tiny pocket-rocket sized Beca Mitchell.