by Jenna Rose
First Time Coach
Jenna Rose
Copyright © 2019 by Jenna Rose
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
About the book
Dirk Irons was a professional rugby player. Now he’s just a high school soccer coach. After taking hits his entire life, bossing around some teenage boys should be easy. But not when there’s a gorgeous, barely-legal student who’s Hell bent on making his life complicated. Oh, and to make things worse, she’s his best friend’s daughter.
Daisy’s not into guys her age. All they want to do is hookup and “have fun.” But Daisy wants a commitment, someone to give herself to, and when she sees the way the new, insanely hot soccer coach looks at her, she knows she could have it with him.
Oh, and there was that brief moment they had together in the bathroom at her parents’ house…
But Coach would never go for her. He knows the rules against faulty dating students, and he knows her dad would kill him if he tried anything…right?
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Contents
1. Coach
2. Daisy
3. Coach
4. Coach
5. Daisy
6. Daisy
7. Daisy
8. Coach
9. Coach
10. Daisy
11. Coach
12. Daisy
13. Daisy
14. Coach
Epilogue
Maid
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1
Coach
“Okay, this is the last one, Pete! I don’t work for you anymore!”
As I set down a load of lumber for his new back porch, Pete grins at me from the table where he’s serving up burgers and hotdogs. He and his wife Charlotte invited me over this evening to celebrate two things: one, me leaving his company for my new job coaching soccer at his daughter’s high school, and two, his daughter, Daisy, coming home from softball camp.
Softball camp. It sounds like Pete’s daughter takes after him. He’s a big bruiser of a guy, jacked as Hell, but with a layer of fat over his muscles that gives him the look of a powerlifter, not a bodybuilder.
I chuckle softly to myself as I picture a female version of Pete stepping up to bat, a pissed off look on her face, chewing a wad of gum and staring at the pitcher like she’s going to tear her head off. Pete’s the kind of guy who’d be proud of a daughter like that, and with a soft name like Daisy, it would be even better.
“What’s funny?” Pete asks.
“Oh, nothing,” I reply, grabbing a burger and putting it on my bun. “Just thinking of how nice it’ll be to not lift lumber for a living anymore.”
“Not used to lugging around some heavy wood?” Pete says with a smile. I slug him in the arm, making him spill a bit of his beer.
“Hey, just wait until you start having to get those little teenage shitheads in line,” Charlotte smirks. “You’ll be wishing you never left the mill.”
Charlotte has a filthier mouth than Pete, which is one of the reasons I think he married her. We were buddies back in middle school before I moved to New Zealand to play Rugby. Everyone thought I was crazy, but I did well there, until something happened that forced me to leave – not just the sport, but the entire country.
I came back with an accent and a fresh-start attitude. Pete gave me a job working at his lumber mill while he talked to the school about bringing me in as a coach. They hired me, and I start tomorrow. I owe him a lot, and honestly feel bad about taking his food without paying him back.
“So what are you two going to do now that you won’t have the house to yourselves?” I smirk. They’re both pretty open about the fact that they still “make whoopee” (as Charlotte calls it) like a couple of teenagers.
“We’re just going to use your place,” Pete chuckles. “We’ll need you to be gone for about an hour every evening.”
“Oh, no sweat. It’s the least I could do,” I reply. I glance at Charlotte. “Don’t mind if I watch do you?”
“This little vixen?” Pete laughs. “She’d probably love it. If I’d allow it. Which I won’t.”
Pete grabs Charlotte’s knee under the table and squeezes, causing her to jump a little and give him a playful slap on the shoulder. I have to admit that I’m pretty jealous of what they have.
I did the whole single-athlete thing when I was in New Zealand, and at the time I thought it was great. But once I left the league and came here and reunited with Pete, I realized what I was missing.
Pete likes to joke about never having had a chance to “sow his wild oats,” and Charlotte teases him that she never got to be tag-teamed before she settled down with his “boring ass,” but they’re both living together in marital bliss – and they know it. When I watch them together, I realize I want what they have.
Maybe there’s something wrong with me, because since I moved to New Hampshire, I haven’t felt anything for anyone. I went out on one date from one of those dating apps because Pete told me it was time to get back out there, but I was bored the whole time. It wasn’t the girl’s fault either; she was nice, but there just wasn’t any spark and I didn’t want to waste either of our time. I was a gentleman and paid for the meal, but that was it.
“Grab me a cold one, Dirk?” Pete asks, showing me his empty beer.
“Least I can do,” I nod.
“Oh, and see if the flower girl stopped by yet!” Charlotte calls after me. “I want them all ready for when Daisy gets home!”
“Will do!” I say as I head inside to the kitchen. Family pictures line the hall, mostly of Pete and Charlotte when they first started dating, and then one of those picture collages of Daisy when she was just a baby. She was cute, so tiny, and it’s hard to believe she grew up to be a bruiser softball gal.
I grab a beer from the fridge and pop the top on the counter, but Charlotte must have been rough with them when she brought them home, because the whole thing sprays everywhere, completely drenching my shirt and the front of my pants.
“Fuck,” I mutter, setting it aside. I look for some paper towels, but they must all be outside, so I head into the bathroom and grab a towel off the rack. I peel off my soaked t-shirt and wring it out in the sink, run it under the water and hang it on the shower curtain. I’ll have to ask Pete to lend me a new one.
My pants are soaked too, but I see a pair of Pete’s athletic shorts lying on top of the laundry hamper, so rather than walk around with beer-crotch all night, I slide out of my pants and toss them into the tub. I’m reaching for the shorts when the bathroom door clicks and opens behind me.
“Occupied—!” I say as I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see Charlotte or Pete. Instead, I find myself staring at a gorgeous woman. Her green eyes seem to pierce right through me, framed by golden blonde curls and gorgeous cheekbones. Instantly, I’m hard as a rock as I drag my eyes helplessly up her bombshell curves. I expect her to jump, scream or turn around and run, but she doesn’t do any of those things; she just stands there with her eyes on me.
“Uh, sorry,” I say, glancing down at my dick that’s now standing out straight from my body like a flagpole. “I should have locked it.”
“That’s okay,” she says with a smile that makes my body course with heat. I can’t believe how fucking gorgeous she is, and that’s
coming from a guy who’s had every type of woman on Earth throwing themselves at him. Her frame is tiny, but I can see a set of perfect, plump tits doing their best to stretch the fabric of her sheer t-shirt, and the mouth-watering curve of an ass that you can see from the front.
Did a goddess just walk into the house? Charlotte had mentioned something about getting flowers for Daisy when she got home; maybe this is the delivery girl?
Her perfume wafts over me, hypnotizing me. It’s like there’s a gravitational pull between us and I feel myself stepping closer without even realizing it. To my surprise, she doesn’t back away. In fact, I see her eyes flick quickly down to my dick before returning to my eyes.
I step closer, closer, until I’m right up on her. Then I reach around her and close the bathroom door, sealing her inside with me. Her eyes are innocent, but burning with excitement as I lean in and inhale deeply, filling my lungs with her scent.
This is what’s been missing, I realize. The magic of this moment.
“Do you have any idea the things I want to do to you?” I ask softly, twisting one of her golden locks around my finger.
“I—”
“Hey, where’s that beer!?” I hear Pete call from outside.
“But I’m here for my buddy’s dinner party,” I tell her. “But do you have a card or something so I can get back in touch with you?”
The gorgeous girl giggles, leans in so our lips are almost touching, then pulls away. With another glance down at my throbbing arousal, she reaches behind her and opens the door.
“You better do something about that,” she says, curling her plump lips into a smile that makes my body ache for her. “Unless you want my dad to see you with a hard-on for his daughter.”
My whole body goes tense as she turns and leaves the bathroom.
Wait, what!? Daughter!?
“I’ll get it for you, dad!” I hear the girl’s voice call out from the hall.
“Sweetie, is that you!?” Charlotte all but screams from the back yard. The heat in my body spreads to my cheeks and I feel a dose of adrenaline like I would before a game. I turn and scramble for Pete’s shorts and step into them, lift my cock up into the waistband and tie it tight, doing my best to hide it. I can’t exactly jerk off in my buddy’s bathroom, and I can’t disappear for fifteen minutes while I wait for it to go down either.
Shit, this is going to be awkward.
It can’t possibly have been Daisy, though. This is a small town; maybe the flower-girl was just messing with me. She probably knows Pete and Charlotte and she’s pranking them. A girl like the one I just ran into couldn’t possibly have spent the Summer at softball camp…
I’m practically tripping over myself as I step out of the bathroom into the hall, just in time for the girl to pass me, a fresh beer in her hand. She glances over her shoulder at me on her way out, and glances down at my shorts.
“Good job.”
My eyes move to her ass as she walks in front of me—perfect, and I feel urges rise inside of me like I’ve never felt before.
The urge to breed.
Her hips move with baby-making perfection. Her blonde locks spill down across her delicate shoulders like she’s been painted by a master. My hands go tight as I think of them wrapping around her waist and pulling her down on top of me. Never in my life have I been this off balance. I feel like I’ve been hit by a meteor.
No. I don’t want to believe it. It can’t be Daisy…
But as we step outside together, Pete and Charlotte both leap from their seats, their eyes beaming.
“I’m back!” the girl exclaims. Charlotte throws her arms around her and my heart sinks; yup, it’s Daisy. The absolute goddess who’s just wrapped me around her finger is my buddy’s eighteen-year-old daughter.
“Hey, how about one for the old man?” Pete asks. Daisy lets go of her mom and throws her arms around her dad’s neck and holds him tight. I know he’s her father, and I know it’s a different kind of embrace than the one I want to give her, but I still feel a pang of jealousy in my chest.
Once she finally lets go, Pete looks up at me and grins.
“Dirk, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Daisy,” he says proudly. “Daisy, meet Dirk.”
“Hi,” I reply, my throat suddenly dry.
“We already met inside,” she says with a gleam in her eyes that makes me want to die.
Yeah. I’m fucked.
2
Daisy
I can’t stop yawning all through Math and English class. Mrs. Owens threatened to send me to the principal’s office if I did it one more time, and I tried to explain to her that I just got home last night and couldn’t sleep because of how excited I was to be back.
But that was a lie. I couldn’t sleep last night because I was thinking about him…Dirk…the man who’d set my life on fire.
“Look at her,” Brenda smirks from across the lunch table. “She’s so gonna give him her v-card.”
“Uh uh,” Aubrey replies, shaking her head. “Daisy’s a good girl.”
I know why the rest of the girls at school think Trent’s hot, but I guess I’m just a weirdo. I’m just not that interested in all the high school crap. As long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to meet a guy who cared about me, settle down, get pregnant, and start a family. Aubrey knows this, but I haven’t told Brenda because I know what her reaction would be.
“You don’t have to be a bad girl to fuck the captain of the soccer team,” Brenda replies. “And that’s what she’s going to do tonight after the game. Isn’t that right, Daisy?”
Brenda’s smiling. I know what she wants me to say; she wants me to say that she’s right and that I’m totally going to have sex with Trent, the captain of the soccer team, because I texted him over the summer and told him I’d come to the first game of the season. It’s not really the first game, just a friendly season-opener against Wilshire Academy to get the “school spirit” flowing.
“Uhm…”
“Don’t pressure her, Brenda!” Aubrey chides, stepping in on my behalf as she always does. “Daisy wants her Prince Charming! Not some man-whore like Trent.”
It’s true; Trent has been around, and not just our school either. He’s got the whole hottie-athlete thing going on, but I’m not into it. Especially after what happened last night…
The image of Dirk standing there naked in my bathroom was imprinted on my mind. Every time I closed my eyes in bed, it came flooding back to me…his broad, strong shoulders, the dark tufts of hair on his thick chest, that amazing accent…
…and of course, the monster between his legs.
And now, when I look at the teenage boys shuffling around my school, I know that I’ll never be able to go back to one of them, especially not Trent. He has those boyish good looks that drive the Freshman girls crazy, kind of like a young Leonardo DiCaprio but with an attitude. But Dirk…Dirk is all man.
You could cut glass on his sharp jaw and cook an egg on his hot, chiseled abs. When he was close to me, I felt so small. He must be at least six-feet-tall and could pick me up and throw me around like it was nothing. I’ve been so unable to get him out of my mind, that I’ve spent all day with my eyes peeled for him. But so far, I haven’t seen him.
“Prince Charmings don’t exist,” Brenda scoffs. She’s wearing too much lipstick again today and has a shirt with a top that just barely passes dress code. Brenda is far more adventurous with guys than I am, and has infinitely more experience. “But guys that look like princes do…”
She nods over my shoulder and I turn to see Trent sitting with his team at the big table at the end of the room. He’s looking at me. I quickly turn away, my cheeks hot. I’m blushing, but it’s not a good blush.
“I dunno,” I reply slowly. “Do you really think he’s interested? I mean—I’m not a cheerleader. I play softball.”
I don’t want to tell her that I’m not interested. That would just lead to a conversation I don’t want to have.
“Uh yeah, guys,
I’m really into my dad’s friend who’s also the soccer coach. Yeah, I saw his dick last night, too!”
That would just stir up more shit than I’m willing to deal with right now. I’m having a hard enough time just keeping it together, and two periods later after Chemistry and Art, I feel like I’ve had too much caffeine or something. I’m all antsy. I know the game is in an hour and I’ve committed myself to going. I haven’t seen Dirk all day and to be honest, I’m feeling a little hurt by it. After what happened yesterday, I would have thought he would have come to see me by now.
But then again, that’s super narcissistic. The guy has a job, doesn’t he? He can’t just go prowling the halls during the middle of the day looking for me. Besides, even if he did, it’s not like we could do anything—not here.
I stuff my books into my locker and am checking my hair in the mirror when I see him. He’s behind me at the end of the hall, but he’s not alone; Miss Henderson is talking to him.
Miss Henderson, aka Miss Melons on account of the ridiculously huge fake tits she got last year, works at the front desk and has already fucked three married men whose kids go to the school, that I know of. She’s an insufferable flirt and I can’t figure out why she hasn’t been fired yet. Probably sleeping with the principal.
She’s brought her A-game today, and is leaning against the lockers with her masqueraded eyes on Dirk, her arms crossed in front of her, accentuating her cleavage. I can tell she got lip injections over the summer and wish I could go over there and punch her right in the mouth. That would make them even bigger for her.