Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 74(@200wpm)___ 59(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 74(@200wpm)___ 59(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
I sip my drink, trying to find some self-control.
“You didn’t need to stand up for me like that with Jake,” she says, raising a brow at me.
“Yes, I did,” I argue. “You’re mine, remember, Iris? That means nobody gets to speak to you like that but me.”
She flushes, her pupils widening. I grin in satisfaction at her reaction.
“Okay,” she says softly, accepting it. She seems to recover some of her sass and adds, “Tell me about you, then. I mean, I’ve had your cock in my mouth, I feel like I’m entitled to some details.”
I choke on a bite of french fry, pinning her with a look when she bursts into laughter. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “What do you want to know?”
She shrugs. “Everything. Like how did you get into coaching?”
I swallow, considering my answer. “It’s not a story I tell often.”
Iris cocks her head to the side, analyzing me. “Does it have something to do with the scar I noticed on your knee?”
I stiffen, an automatic response when the subject’s brought up. But she’s right, if she’s mine, then she is entitled to know these things about me. Patiently, she waits for me to answer, and finally, I sigh and tell her the story.
“We’re very similar,” I begin with a grimace. “When I was your age, I was also a college soccer star with a scholarship and a bright future playing pro ahead of me. We won our state championship, everything was going exactly how I’d always planned. And then, in a training game, I was tackled badly. The grass was slippery, and the other player’s shoes were too old to grip properly. We slid, and he landed on me, my leg pinned beneath us both when we went down. The whole team heard it snap.”
Iris gasps, a french fry frozen in her hand halfway to her mouth.
“I heard it, too, before the pain registered. And God, was there pain,” I laugh humorlessly, cringing at the memory. “I’ll spare you the details, but it wasn’t pretty. Shattered my patella. Surgery meant I could walk on it again, with a shit tonne of physio, but my dream of playing pro was as broken as the bone.”
I expect Iris to have a snarky remark, but she surprises me by reaching out, her hand finding mine on the table.
“I’m sorry that happened,” she says softly, her eyes holding mine.
“It’s okay,” I say with a shrug, shoving the pain back down. “Just means I’m even more determined to get you noticed by the scouts. You’ve got what it takes to make it, Iris.”
She grins, laughing. “Well, with a coach as strict as you, I’ve got a better chance than ever,” she teases.
“Strict, huh?” I tease right back, lowering my voice. “Oh, little brat. You have no idea how harsh I can be.”
Iris’ lashes flutter as she smiles at me. “Bring it on, Coach.”
4
IRIS
The drive to Isaac’s place is short but feels so much longer because all I can imagine is what we’re about to do. I can feel how wet I am with the anticipation of it, his low threat of showing me just how strict he can be causing a hundred scenarios to play out in my mind. I want it, want him so badly. Fooling around in the locker room gave me a taste of him, and now I’m starving.
The second we get in his front door, Isaac’s arms are around my waist, and he lifts me off the floor. Instantly, I wrap my legs around him, clinging on as he strides through his place to the bedroom. I can’t help the way my mouth roams over his throat and jaw, kissing and sucking and tasting him.
“Keep doing that and I’ll fuck you against the wall before we get to the bed,” Isaac growls. I’m sure he means it as a threat, but it sounds like a good plan to me. I don’t want to wait a second longer. My core throbs, my clit begging for attention. I try to grind against him, but the fabric of our clothes prevents me from getting any of the friction I desperately need.
“Yes, do it,” I pant against him, squirming in his arms. “I don’t want to wait.” I try to reach between us without toppling us over, aiming to reach the buttons of his jeans so I can touch him properly.
“You’re not in control here,” Isaac snarls, the dark demand in his voice only making me wetter.
But I’m not going to make this easy for him. I giggle, wiggling again as he tightens his hold on me and increases his speed towards the bedroom.
“Such a brat,” he groans, kicking the door open and throwing me down onto the bed. “You need to be taught a lesson, Iris.”