“Fifteen, love.” she called out as she again lifted the ball high in the air. A hearty gust afforded him a longer glimpse of her panties, but he fought the natural impulse to linger on the vision for a tense moment, trying desperately to keep his mind on the ball that had begun to fly toward him. He cocked his racket and sent the ball back with a flick of his wrist. She reacted quickly, dashing to her left and swatting a sharp backhand. Her left boob lifted slightly in the motion, revealing a crescent of her dark areola over the top edge of her spaghetti-strap black shirt. He swung at the ball whizzing past him and buried it in the net.
Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances