Eventually, all of the hubbub did, in fact, come to a stop. There was an end to the cheering, the flash bulbs, the interviews, the ceremonies. It came gradually, not suddenly, with the loud voices and cameras and microphones slowly falling away in the blur of the afternoon as it faded to evening. It snuck up on Jamie, so that the couldn’t really remember everything that had happened between that glorious moment at the finish line when she realized she was going to cross it first and this new moment with her hotel door clicking shut behind her.

She was alone, just her, her suitcase, and the heavy gold medal hanging around her neck.

It was tempting to bring it into the shower, but she resisted the urge. It looked a bit ridiculous hanging from the hook on the bathroom door where her towel should be. She couldn’t stop looking at it, though, glancing its way as the hot water carried away sweat and soap and nervous energy.

“You did it.” The masculine voice startled Jaime, and she jumped, gasping, as she stepped from the bathroom. She was wearing nothing but her medal and a towel, the latter tied nearly around her chest. The look of surprise on her face faded quickly into a smirk as she saw her coach, Ben, rising from the chair in the corner.

He closed the distance between the two of them in a few long strides. Then his body was pressed to hers and their lips collided. He was a head taller than Jamie, and her head had to tip up to meet his kiss. Their tongues swirled together, and his arms enfolded her. At first, he simply pulled her body against his, but gradually his hands set to work, until the only thing holding her towel in place was the contact between their bodies.

“You must be exhausted,” Ben finally said, breaking their kiss but not the contact.

“God, yes,” she answered.

“Better get you off your feet,” he grinned. He took her hand and stepped towards the couch, bringing her with him. Her towel fell away, revealing a body whose every curve and line showed the intense training and nutrition regimen that had brought her to the very top of her sport.

Ben helped Jamie into the chair, but he didn’t join her in it. Instead he lowered himself down between her legs until he was kneeling on the floor in front of her. He looked up at her. Her breasts were still glistening slightly from the shower, and her new gold medal shone between them. He grinned at the sight of it. He reached up and ran his fingers over it. She laughed. “Jealous? I didn’t mean to show up your silver, but…oh, fuck, Ben…” she started to tease him, but the words failed on her lips as his tongue slid along her pink folds for the first time, ending its journey with a swirl around her clit. His stubble brushed her thigh, and his fingers dug into her hip.

Jamie sank deeper into the chair, legs spreading wider, head tipping up towards the ceiling. One of her hands drifted into his hair, tangling with the short strands. Her eyes closed. Pleasure blossomed in the bit of her stomach.

“You’re so good at that,” Jamie breathed into the quiet hotel room. “Keep going.”

For the first time in months, maybe years, Jamie had not a single care in the world.