Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Yeah, not a random guy. The man who was going to take my virginity last night was Coach Kirby.
Sasha whistles lowly, breaking my thoughts again.
“I bet he’s fucking huge.”
Brynn giggles. “Dude, you need to schedule a Charlie visit. This thirsty look is not good on you.”
Sasha laughs. “I know.” She glances at me, still bent over on my knees with my back arched, trying to stretch the tightness in my hips.
“What do you think?”
“About?”
She rolls her eyes. “About Coach Kirby?”
“What about him?”
She sighs. “How have you not been listening. We’re talking about how big his dick probably is.”
“Um, we, nothing,” Brynn says primly, gesturing with her brows at Sasha.
“So?” My brunette friend grins at me. “What do you think?”
“I think I don’t spend my time thinking about Coach Kirby’s… dick.”
She makes a face. “Please. Every girl on the team, and probably in the whole fucking school, has thought about Camden Kirby’s dick.”
“Well, not me,” I lie, because the pictures still saved on the password protected privacy app on my phone have a different story to tell.
“Just admit it!”
“Nope!”
“Oh c’mon!” Sasha laughs. “You little liar! Just freaking admit that you—”
“Okay fine!” I blurt out with a nervous laugh, rolling my eyes. “Fine! Okay? Yes. Are you happy? Yes, I’ve thought about Coach Kirby’s big, thick, fat cock, okay?!”
The two of them are silent, and when I realize they’re not looking at me, they’re looking past me, my heart jumps into my throat and my stomach drops.
Please no. Fucking PLEASE no.
“Ms. Owens.”
He growls my name, and a shiver of heat teases through my core and down my spine, even as I absolutely cringe. Because as much as I want to hope that he did not just hear all of that, the looks on my friend’s faces say otherwise.
I swallow, trembling, my face beet red as I slowly, sit up, and turn. I look up at Coach Kirby, and when our eyes lock, a spark of something wild blazes through me as my face just burns.
“I—I mean—”
“Please see me in my office after practice, Ms. Owens,” he growls quietly, his eyes never leaving mine. The muscles of his bare chest and abs clench and ripple, and I swallow as I quickly nod.
“I—yeah. Okay,” I mumble.
He lets his eyes lock with mine for another five seconds, just looking at me—into me—and setting my entire core on fire as the heat pools between my legs.
“Laps, ladies,” he mutters to Brynn and Sasha. “Let’s show some hustle today.”
He turns before he stops, glancing back as his eyes burn right into me.
“My office, Ms. Owens,” he growls quietly, his eyes blazing. “Don’t forget.”
He turns and calmly walks away, leaving me to sink into a freaking puddle on the floor as Sasha whistles.
“Someone’s in trouble.”
Except she has no idea.
2
Camden
I want to look away, and I tell myself to, repeatedly. But it doesn’t fucking work. Or at least, I’ve stopped listening to myself. I try and mask it by berating Tyler Powell from the boys’ team over the dumbest shit it—something I’d feel bad about if the kid wasn’t a spoiled little shithead.
I do math in my head.
I repeat the alphabet, backwards.
I think of horrible, dark shit—anything to get the memory of last night out of my head, or to stop myself from glancing over at her.
…Fucking none of it helps. And neither does it help that when I do cave and glance over to where she’s stretching out on the other side of the pool, she’s fucking bent over—that drum-tight, gorgeous little ass in the air clad only in a black one-piece suit that clings to every goddamn inch and curve of her. Long, toned legs from years in the pool. Perfectly flared hips. Perky little tits to die for.
I growl, stopping myself and yanking my eyes away.
The fuck is wrong with you?
It doesn’t matter that she’s hotter than sin. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been jerking my cock to filthy pictures of her for a week. It doesn’t matter that last night, I waltzed right over to her in that bar and fucking kissed her, claiming her mouth like it was mine to claim until I pulled back and my whole fucking world went upside down.
None of that fucking matters, because Waverly Owens is a fucking student at Winchester Academy, the private boarding school where I’m coaching the swim team. Forbidden? Off-limits? Jailbait? Yeah, none of those even begin to scratch the surface on how fucking untouchable Waverly Owens is.
Oh, and it gets even better. See, if having spent the last week telling my fucking eighteen-year-old star swimmer how much I want to fill her pussy with cum, or tie her arms behind her back and make her my little fuck toy, or how I’m going to bend her over and fuck her with my tongue wasn’t bad enough? If having spent the last week sending her pictures of my rock-hard cock—hard from the pictures she sent of her tight, gorgeous, waxed little pink pussy and her pert little mouthwatering tits, and her cock-achingly perfect ass wasn’t bad enough either? If having kissed her last night wasn’t enough?