by B. B. Hamel
Making sure they aren’t hurt.
I respect that in a person. If I didn’t go into football at all, I think I would’ve tried to become a doctor.
I don’t know what it is about her, but I need to try and keep myself together.
I stretch a little, rubbing at my leg again before stopping myself. Even here, where I’m relatively alone, I can’t afford to show weakness.
“Cole,” a voice says suddenly, nearly making me jump.
I look down the hall again and he’s striding toward me. Everyone stares after him as he comes.
Atlas Gage.
He’s young, in his late twenties. He’s wearing a suit, light gray, slim fitting. His tie is a bright mélange of flower blues and yellows. His hair is cut short, pushed back to one side. His eyes are green and brown swirls.
He’s the youngest owner in NFL history, and one of the youngest billionaires in the world.
He’s also one of the strangest people I’ve ever met.
“Coach Cole,” he says, coming up to me. He doesn’t smile as he shakes my hand. “How’s my team?”
“Going good,” I say, stepping aside. He drifts into my office. “Very good. You did a great job, pulling this together.”
He grunts, nods his head. He’s about an inch shorter than me, although he’s muscular, well built. I never would guess that he made his money in tech.
When I think of tech billionaires, I think of little nerdy boys in glasses and sweatshirts. That’s not Atlas Gage, not at all.
He doesn’t sit down when I offer him a chair, so I’m forced to lean against my desk for support.
“It was a lot of work,” he allows. “Building this stadium alone set us back a couple years.”
“But here it is.” I grin at him. “It’s amazing.”
“Maybe,” he allows.
It is amazing, though. Fargo, North Dakota, was just another sleepy Midwest town that didn’t care at all about having a major sports team. But Atlas is from here, and he was adamant about bringing it to this city.
He built the stadium. He found the staff. He paid for the players. He’s paying for everything, actually. I don’t know how he managed to talk the NFL into allowing this, but here we are, a brand-new modern stadium and a brand new NFL team in the middle of a tiny North Dakota city.
All because of this very strange man.
“I wanted to ask you about your staff,” he says. “I hear there are some shortages?”
I shrug. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
He eyes me warily. “We can’t afford to project weakness, Coach Wood.”
I grin at him. If only he knew how much I understood. “We aren’t. We’re missing some minor coaching staff, some minor training roles, but we’re running just fine. For a new team, we’re in good shape.”
He grunts at that and nods. “Okay then. I’ll take your word for it. There’s a reason I brought you on here.”
I know that reason. I took Monray College, a tiny little team that lost every game for five years straight, and turned them into a powerhouse. We went from last place to first place in two seasons. We didn’t lose a single title when I was coaching there.
I resurrected that team. Hell, I birthed that team. I hear they’re still doing pretty good. I bet they’ll always be a contender, all because of the work I did there.
Now I have to do it again, but on a bigger scale.
“Have you gotten the tour yet?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “Not yet.”
“Come with me.” I steer Atlas from my office. It’s odd, having the owner show up like this, asking about minor team roles. I’m guessing there’s something else going on.
I give him the quick version. I show him the offices, the locker room, the equipment rooms. I introduce him to some of the players.
We finish with the training room. He pokes his head in and gestures at the whirlpools. “I need one of these,” he says.
“Oh, yeah? You an athlete?”
“Run,” he grunts. “Lots of running.”
“Huh.” I frown. Runners are usually skinny. He’s not skinny.
Atlas cocks his head, like he’s listening for something. I watch him as he turns to me, a smile on his face. “Who’s that?” he asks.
I follow his gaze and spot Leah. My heart leaps into my throat.
She’s helping one of the tight ends from a tub. He’s laughing as she says something to him, but I can’t hear. They’re at the far end of the room.
“That’s one of the trainers,” I say. “I can’t remember her name.”
“Hm. I’d like to know it,” Atlas says. “She looks very… competent.”
I bite back a retort. He’s my fucking boss. He can say shit like that.
“I’m sure she’s good,” I allow. “If you want to finish up?”
He glances at me. “I came here for a reason, Wood.”
I stop in my tracks. Now he’s going to say it, and I can feel worry in my chest.
“We’re spending a lot,” he says, watching Leah again. “Much more than we budgeted for.”
I grunt in recognition. “Starting a team from scratch is difficult. Spending will go down as we settle in.”
“Settle in faster, Wood. And make sure we win some games.”
I clench my jaw. “We will.”
“That’s not what the pundits say.”
“Fuck ESPN.”
He laughs softly. “I thought you’d feel that way.”
Assholes. The media’s been ripping into our team from the start, probably because we’re located in such an odd place.
Nobody believes in us, but I don’t care.
They say we’re working with the dregs of the NFL, with undrafted guys, young guys, guys that are too old. Some of that’s true, we do have a lot of veterans on the team.
But I did that on purpose. They’re teaching the young guys how to play at their level. Maybe physically the vets aren’t there anymore, but they still know the tricks.
“I’m building a dynasty here,” I say softly.
That gets Atlas’s attention. “Are you now?”
“They don’t see it. I was told I was wasting my time at Monray, but you know what? Here I am, four title rings sitting at my damn apartment.”
He smiles at me enigmatically. “That’s true.”
“I’ll win you some games. More every season.”
He laughs. “I expect you will.”
“You brought me in for a reason. Are you really here to tell me you’re worried about money?”
He hesitates for a moment, but finally shakes his head. “No. I’m putting my trust in you, Wood.”
“Good. You need to. Otherwise, this partnership isn’t going to work.”
He sighs. I can see the edges on him, the stress eating away at him.
He glances one more time at Leah before turning away. “Submit a report to me every day,” he says as he walks away from the training room, back toward the main building. “I want to be on top of what’s happening here.”
I ball my fists. “If that’s what you want.”
He glances back. “I do trust you. But I made my money by being a part of what I was doing. I want to know what’s going on here.”
I nod once. I don’t need some eccentric rich kid breathing down my neck the whole time… but he is the money, and without him, we’re nothing.
I can play nice. Or at least I can try.
“Every day,” he repeats.
“It’ll get done.”
“Good. Send it to my personal email, please. I’m sick of getting hard copies of shit.”
He grins at me, we shake hands, and he leaves through the back. I stand there and sigh as he goes.
I don’t like that he was staring after Leah. I really, really don’t like that. There are a lot of women working for me, why did he have to single her out?
But I know the answer to that. She’s beautiful. She’s alluring. He can’t help himself.
J
ust like I can’t help it.
I turn away, walking back toward my office. I pass Leah and the tight end walking together through the hall. She’s dwarfed by him, but my eyes are still drawn to her.
I want her so badly it hurts. I want to crush her, take her, make her feel things. I want to feel things for the first time in a long time.
I nod to her as we pass. She smiles.
It lights up my insides, and for a second, even the prospect of writing a report to my boss doesn’t seem so bad.
Distractions, problems. It’s all threatening this brand-new team. If I’m not careful, it could come spinning apart.
5
Leah
Felix flexes a little bit as I walk toward him in the locker room. “Hey, trainer girl. How am I lookin’?”
I grin at him. Felix is tall, muscular, handsome. I know a lot of girls are into him, especially Tessa. “Great as always, Felix.”
“That’s what I thought.” He laughs and sits down on the bench. “I’m feeling good today.”
“Good, that’s what I want to hear.” I drop down to my knees a couple feet away from him as he extends his leg toward me. He’s wearing compression shorts and nothing else, but I don’t even see it.
I only see his calf. He’s been having some issues with it lately. I start to prod at the muscle, massaging it lightly.
“Ow, god damn, girl. Are you trying to hurt me even more?”
“Maybe,” I say.
“Look at you, maybe,” he says, laughing. “You know I’m the heart and soul of this team, right?”
“That’s what you tell me.”
He grins. “Got an attitude on you. I like it.”
I squeeze his muscle. “Careful,” I say.
“Ouch,” he groans, grinning.
“You’re okay,” I say, patting his leg. He lets it down. “Are you doing the stretches?”
“Honestly? Not really.”
“Felix.”
“Look, I got a lot going on, okay?”
“Not getting injured is a big part of this whole thing, you know.”
He rolls his eyes. “I know that. I was injured my freshman year in college. Drove me fucking nuts.”
“So don’t get injured your first year in the NFL.”
He grunts at me. Felix was really, really good in college. He broke all sorts of records. The Chainsaws are lucky to have him.
But he’s a headcase. He’s cocky and he showboats all the time. The NFL isn’t going to take that sort of thing lightly.
“I’m starting to hate that attitude, you know,” he grumbles.
“Come on, Felix. I’m looking out for you.”
“I know that.” He sighs. “All right, fine. I’ll do the stupid exercises.”
I grin. “That wasn’t so hard.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbles. “Hey, Sean, look at this trainer girl. Telling me what’s up.”
Sean, the quarterback, grins at Felix from across the room. “She’s a tough one,” he says. “I don’t mess with her.”
“Hell, no, you shouldn’t,” Felix says. “You get one of her massages yet?”
“Doesn’t feel like a massage,” Sean grumbles, flexing his shoulder.
I stand up. “You boys are weak. How are you NFL players again?”
“Oh, shit,” Felix says, laughing.
“I think she’s talking about you, Felix,” Sean fires at him.
Felix laughs. “You know that’s not true.”
“I don’t know. Only one of us here’s ever played in this league.”
“Oh, big words for a backup.”
Sean laughs. He was the backup QB for the Eagles for two years before coming here. Everyone says he’s not good enough to carry a franchise, and I heard on ESPN that Coach had other options, but he specifically wanted Sean.
People wonder about that. I know I wonder about it, but I also know that I don’t know anything.
All I know is, I’m the trainer, and that’s my job.
“Leah,” a voice snaps, calling my attention. Felix and Sean both straighten up a little bit.
I look over at Cole, lingering in the doorway. “My office,” he says more softly. “And Felix, leave the girl alone.”
“I’m not doing anything,” Felix complains.
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. Just be nice.” He glares at the wide receiver.
Felix grins back sheepishly. I shrug at him and make a face, although inside I feel a thrill.
Cole’s defending me. In front of his players. In front of his star players.
It’s hard to believe.
I follow him out of the locker room.
“Sorry about that,” he says softly. “I should’ve held my tongue. I know you’re just trying to have a good relationship with those guys.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “They’re just idiots.”
He grins. “Sean’s supposed to be smart, you know.”
“Felix isn’t?”
“Well.” He grins bigger. “I don’t pay him to be smart. Just to catch footballs.”
I laugh and follow him into his office. He shuts the door behind me.
“I just mean, be careful around them is, all.”
“Why?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “People might get the wrong impression.”
“Wrong impression?”
Cole cocks his head at me, a little smirk on his lips. The blinds over his windows are drawn and I feel my heart start to beat faster.
We’re alone in here. Very alone in here.
“You know the impression I mean.”
I know I should be offended, but the way he’s looking at me suggests he means something else. “You think people will say I’m flirting with them.”
He nods, still smirking. “That’s right.” He cocks his head. “What do you think they’d say if they knew what we were doing?”
I shrug a little. “Nothing. I’ve just been massaging your leg.”
“Just massaging?” He steps closer, inches away from me now. My heart’s beating so fast and I know where this is going, I know it deep down inside.
And I want it.
It’s messed up. He’s my boss, twice my age… getting involved like this could ruin his career. It could ruin mine.
I don’t care. I can’t seem to move. I’m rooted in place, staring up into his eyes.
I know he’s the kind of man that wouldn’t be angry if I turned him down. If I wanted to keep this professional.
I know I could do it. Everyone speaks highly of Coach Wood.
Except I don’t want that. I don’t want to be professional, not with him. Not when he’s this close to me.
“You think we’re doing something inappropriate,” I whisper.
“Not yet,” he responds. He tilts my chin up toward him. “Do you want to?”
I bite my lip. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He laughs gently. “That’s no answer, little Leah.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, I do.”
He stares into my eyes and my heart’s beating so fast with anticipation, I think I might pass out.
“Go sit on my desk.” He steps back, motions with his head.
I obey, walking over. I push some things aside and hop up, sitting and leaning back on my hands.
He steps toward me. “I’m not the kind of man to hold things against you,” he says softly, stopping in front of me. “I know how these things can go. I have all the power. You’re just the young, innocent trainer.”
“I’m not so innocent,” I say.
He grins. “I know you aren’t.”
“If I wanted to leave, I’d leave.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” He starts to unfasten the button of my khakis. I wear the same thing to work every day: khaki pants, polo shirt. Sometimes I wear a long-sleeve shirt, or a half-zip jacket, but it’s always the same thing. It’s a uniform, basically.
He tugs at my khakis, pulling them over my ass. I lift up my hips, letting him
slide them down. I feel exposed, wearing just my panties, as he drops to his knees in front of me to pull the khakis off. He slips my shoes onto the floor before tugging at my pants.
He drops them on the floor and kisses my ankle. Slowly, he kisses up my leg, sending shivers down my spine. I stare as he reaches my inner thighs.
He pushes my legs open further. I gasp, bite my lip. He kisses my stomach, getting closer to my pussy, before slowly kissing me over my panties.
He pulls them aside. I’m wearing a basic black thong, and the fabric is already wet from excitement. He smirks as he teases my pussy with his tongue, spreading my legs even wider.
I bite my lip. He knows exactly what he’s doing as he teases me, probes me. I groan, arching my back. “Oh, shit, Cole,” I say.
“Have you ever been with an older man before?” he asks, pausing only to speak before licking and sucking my clit again.
“No,” I get out.
“That’s a shame. There’s a certain…” He slides two fingers inside of me, pushing them deep. “Skillset that comes with age.”
“Experience,” I gasp.
“That’s right.” His fingers curl inside of me, sliding against my pussy, searching for my spot. It drives me wild.
He dips back down, licking my clit, fingers sliding in and out. His tongue feels incredible and he’s licking and sucking me with obvious desire. He seems to really love it, really love the way I react to him.
I shift my hips, rolling against his mouth. He grunts his approval and I moan with pleasure. I want it so badly, and he’s not making this easy on me. He’s pushing, teasing, sucking, my clit on fire with pure pleasure.
“Oh, god, Cole,” I groan.
“Careful,” he whispers, fucking me harder with his fingers. “Someone might hear. And then what would they say?”
I bite my lip. “They’d be unhappy,” I groan.
“That’s right. That’d be very unhappy. Nobody wants to know about me sucking this delicious little pussy. They’ll say I’m too old, or I’m in a position of power. They’ll try and make this wrong.” He licks me again, tongue all over.
“But there’s nothing wrong,” he whispers, and I know he’s right. I grind my hips against his mouth, leaning forward, curling against him. I grab onto his hair as my pleasure peaks.