Bad Coach (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (Forbidden Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “You like this?” Devon asked, pressing his hips up against mine, holding me tightly. He began to move inside of me, pushing deeper and deeper, rubbing along my inner walls. I touched and caressed him everywhere I could reach, kissing his face, his neck, and his shoulder. Devon trailed his lips all over, nipping and nibbling playfully, along my throat and down to my breasts. Every movement of our bodies together sent more and more crackling, electric pleasure through my nerves, turning me on more. I tightened my legs around Devon’s waist, taking him deeper and twisting my hips as I fell into his rhythm.

  Devon began moving faster, pushing deeper and deeper inside of my body, and I cried out as the tip of his cock rubbed up against my g-spot, sending a jolt of white-hot pleasure through me that made me almost breathless. He reached down between our bodies and began to rub my clit in counterpoint to his thrusts, and in a matter of moments, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I clutched at Devon’s shoulders as if for life itself, continuing to move with him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me, obliterating any ability to think. I was barely even aware of Devon’s body tensing against mine, of the feeling of his cock twitching inside of me before I felt the feeling of his orgasm as he shuddered, thrusting into me a few more hard, fast times.

  Devon sank onto the bed next to me, wrapping his arms around me tightly, nuzzling into my neck as the music continued to play; I had barely even noticed that the playlist had shifted from one album to another while we’d been having sex, but as I came out of the haze of pleasure that overtook me, I found myself humming along to the lyrics.

  In spite of how good a time I had had that night, I couldn’t put Kelly out of my mind. As I lie in Devon’s arms, it was on the tip of my tongue to mention the confrontation I’d had with my friend and roommate; but I couldn’t make myself do it. I had no idea if Devon’s story had been real—I wanted to believe that it was, but I had known Kelly for so long that I thought that I owed it to her to give her the benefit of the doubt. I started to fall asleep, exhausted, still wondering if there was any way I could get to the bottom of the situation. It seemed completely impossible.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, I woke up still feeling unsettled—but at least I was happy. I was still tender from the sex the night before, but I was more satisfied than I could remember being at any other time in my life. I smiled to myself; I knew I should leave—I had class to get to. But for just a moment, I lingered in Devon’s bed. If I went back to the dorm, I’d have to deal with Kelly; if I stayed right where I was, I could at least pretend to not care about her, to not even remember what she had said and why I should be worried about it.

  But after the moment was over, I knew that I had to do the same thing I had both the previous times I’d slept with Devon. As much as I didn’t want to make a habit of abandoning him while he was still asleep, I needed to get dressed, eat something, and get to class. I started to slip out of Devon’s bed, looking around for my clothes; I grinned to myself at how far-flung they had ended up around the room.

  Just as I was about to get out of the bed, I felt Devon’s hand close around my arm. “Hey,” Devon said sleepily. “Where are you going, Jenny?” I giggled, turning to face him.

  “I have to go to class,” I said.

  “Not right this second, right?” Devon asked me, raising an eyebrow. “You can at least spend a little time with me before you have to run off.” I thought about it, looking at Devon’s alarm clock. I had maybe about an hour and a half before my class started.

  “I can stay for a while,” I said, slipping back into bed with Devon. Devon pulled me close to him, kissing me. We cuddled together for a long moment, our hands wandering over each other’s bodies.

  “I’m glad I caught you,” Devon murmured, kissing me on the lips. “I was afraid I was going to wake up again and you’d be gone.”

  “I’m glad too,” I said, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pressing my body against his. I nuzzled against Devon’s neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne, savoring the closeness.

  “So what do you want for breakfast?” Devon asked me, kissing me on the lips again. I laughed, rolling my eyes and pulling back from him.

  “I can’t have breakfast here,” I said, slipping free of his arms. “I have to get ready and go to class.”

  “Come on,” Devon said, pulling me back in close to him. “Give me another kiss, and then run back to your dorm, get ready for class, and come back here. I’ll make you the best breakfast you’ve had in months.” I chuckled and slid out of Devon’s bed, shaking my head. I knew he’d keep insisting—and I knew even more than I really did want to have breakfast with him.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, getting dressed quickly in my clothes from the night before. I leaned over the bed and kissed Devon briefly on the lips. “I will be back in maybe fifteen-twenty minutes. Make me whatever you want.” Devon hugged me and then gave me a playful swat to the hip.

  “Twenty minutes!” he reminded me as I headed for the door.

  I hurried out of the frat house as quietly as I could; from what I could tell, no one else was awake yet—although at least this time, I thought, I had nothing to be ashamed of if someone did run into me leaving. I almost ran across campus to my dorm, fumbling with my key card at the entry. I had managed to get my giddiness under control by the time I got to the dorm room I shared with Kelly; I remembered that she would probably be there, though I doubted she would be awake yet. I let myself into my room as quietly as possible and closed the door behind me.

  I rummaged through my clothes and picked out a pair of jeans and a new tee shirt; my classes for the day didn’t merit anything more than that, and after having staying the night with him three times, I doubted that Devon really cared whether I wore a skirt, a dress, or jeans. I sneaked out of my room and into the adjoining half-bathroom on my side of the dorm to wash my face and smooth my hair; I put on fresh underwear and socks and pulled my new outfit on as quickly as possible; I had ten minutes to get back over to Devon’s place.

  As I was locking the door to my side of the dorm, I heard Kelly’s door close. “Hey,” she said, her voice more angry than sleepy. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.” I turned to see her in her pajamas, glaring at me.

  “That’s because I didn’t,” I said levelly.

  “I guess you were with him then.” Kelly crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head even as she continued to stare at me angrily.

  “It’s really none of your business. I have somewhere to be.” Not only was I still uncertain as to whether to believe Kelly’s stories—both the ones she had told me about Devon being horrible and her excuses that she had never had anything to do with him herself—but I didn’t want to keep Devon waiting. I didn’t want to miss any time that I could be spending with him.

  I started to walk past her, to the door to our dorm, but Kelly stepped in my way. “I don’t get you, Jenn. Why would you choose him over me? I’ve been your friend for years! Is it just because he fucked you, is that it?” I felt my cheeks burning, heat spreading down from my forehead onto my chest.

  “Look,” I said, pushing past her. “Obviously there’s no point in talking about this until you calm down.” I started towards the door once more and had just turned the doorknob when Kelly spoke again.

  “All right, fine! I did date him for a while, and yes, it was me kissing him. You happy? He was actually telling the truth for once in his life.” I turned to look at her, more shocked than surprised; after all, I had believed Devon deep down, even though Kelly had insisted that he was lying—hadn’t I?

  “I’d be happier if you hadn’t tried to sabotage everything,” I said flatly.

  “I still don’t see why you would choose him over me,” Kelly said, shaking her head. It looked like there were tears in her eyes, but her expression was so angry I couldn’t really tell.

  “Well, for starters,” I replied, straightening my spine and holding her gaze, “Devon has never lied to
me.” Kelly’s eyes widened, and she stared at me in shock that had to have looked as unbelieving as my own. “I’m leaving.” I turned back towards the door.

  “Go ahead and run off with your stupid boyfriend then!” Kelly said, her voice nearly a shout. “You’re both going to get what you deserve.” I heard her door slam and shook my head, walking out into the hallway. I didn’t know what she meant—but I also didn’t feel like wasting time to go back and ask her. She’s just upset. Ignore it. She’ll get over it eventually, and if she doesn’t, she was never really your friend to begin with.

  Chapter Six

  I made my way across campus once more, hurrying to get to the Phi Kappa house as quickly as I could; my argument with Kelly hadn’t taken long, but it had left me shaken. She had actually admitted to her lie. She had admitted that Devon had been right—that he hadn’t just been trying to run a game on me, to get what he wanted. You knew it all along, I thought, shaking my head. Why wouldn’t she just admit it from the beginning?

  I stewed on the questions spinning in my head as I walked from the dorms to the other end of campus, barely acknowledging the few people who were out and about, headed to the dining hall or to their morning classes. If Kelly had told me from the beginning that she knew what Devon had been like from experience—that he had treated her poorly, that she was heartbroken over him—then I might not have ever even given him a chance. That would have been bad for Devon and for me, but at least it would have been honest.

  Even if she had confessed when I had confronted her with the information that Devon had given me, it would have been mostly okay. I could understand being jealous—I had seen enough jealousy in high school to know it could make people do crazy things. But the fact that she had not only lied to me from the beginning, but tried to actively sabotage any chance at a relationship I might have had with Devon and then lied again, was nearly unforgivable as far as I was concerned. She had been my friend for years; I thought that we had more trust between us than that.

  I barely realized I was approaching the Phi Kappa house until I was nearly walking past it; I stopped myself, shaking my head and taking a deep breath. I was not going to let a petty argument with Kelly ruin my time with Devon. I took another deep breath and put it behind me. I turned around and walked to the front door; but I stood there for a moment, not entirely sure of how to handle the situation. There were obviously guys in the frat house who were still asleep—I didn’t want to wake them up and irritate them. As much as possible I wanted to stay on the Phi Kappa guys’ good side, as long as it didn’t cost me anything. I worried at my bottom lip, thinking. Knocking on the door was out—that would definitely wake up a few people. I took my phone out of my pocket and found the text message thread with Devon. I’m at the front door, but I don’t want to wake anyone up, I wrote. Less than a minute later my phone buzzed; Devon had sent an emoji back: a smiley face with its tongue stuck out.

  A minute later, the door opened, and I nearly jumped in spite of the fact that I should have expected it. Devon stood in the half-open door in nothing more than his pajama pants; the ridges of his hip bones told me he wasn’t even wearing boxers underneath, and for a moment I wished that I had more than about an hour to spend with him before I had to leave for class. “Right on time, babe,” he said with a grin.

  “I told you,” I countered, stepping through the door he held open for me. Walking into the house, I could smell something absolutely delicious; the scent of vanilla, of something fried, filled the air, giving me a hint as to what Devon had put together for us.

  Devon led me into the kitchen, where a couple of the frat brothers were awake, gulping down coffee and eating cereal. When Devon and I walked in, they looked up and seemed to all decide at the same time that they’d much rather watch the news in the living room. “Have a seat,” Devon told me with a grin, gesturing to the newly empty table. I laughed, rolling my eyes.

  “Are they being polite because I’m a girl, or because you’re the boss around here?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

  “A little bit of both,” Devon said. “Sit down, you don’t have that much time to enjoy the feast I’ve prepared for you.”

  “Oh? A feast, no less,” I said, picking one of the chairs and sitting down quickly. Devon went to the stove and opened the oven underneath, revealing a cookie sheet stacked with a huge pile of French toast. He reached up into the cupboard and took out plates, and divided up the French toast between the two; I grinned to myself as he lifted a napkin off of a plate that I’d seen off to the side on the counter, revealing freshly cooked bacon. “You weren’t kidding about a feast!” I said, my eyes widening as Devon piled both plates.

  “How do you take your coffee?” he asked me, setting the plate down in front of me and putting his own directly across from where I sat.

  “Milk and sugar.” Devon nodded and extracted a pair of mugs out of the cupboard, pouring and doctoring the coffee quickly. I noticed that he took sugar but no milk in his, and smiled to myself. As he put the milk back into the fridge, he took out a bottle of maple syrup, along with a container of orange juice. “Wow,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “This is as good as I could get at a restaurant.” Devon laughed, pouring glasses of juice and setting them on the table before he sat down.

  “I like cooking,” he said, shrugging off my praise. “Ever since I started really being serious about basketball, I knew I needed to cook for myself. I figured if I was going to be eating it, it might as well taste good.” I nodded, smiling, and bit into a piece of bacon; it was just the way I liked it: crispy but not burned, with just a little bit of chewiness to it.

  “How did you go about learning?” I asked. I knew how to cook somewhat—but of course, I lived in the dorms, where there was no real way to cook anything that couldn’t go in a microwave or a toaster oven.

  “I asked my mom!” Devon said, chuckling as he dug into his French toast. “I also watched a bunch of cooking shows. There’s one I still really like, with this guy Alton Brown. Good Eats. He goes and explains why you do things a certain way, with chemical reactions and shit, it’s great.”

  “I think I caught an episode of that once,” I said. “Doesn’t he use weird stuff like power tools and things?” Devon nodded.

  “He has this episode where he cooks in one of those clay plant pots. It’s insane—and it totally works.” I took a bite of my French toast; buttery syrup, vanilla, and cinnamon filled my mouth, and I nearly moaned at how good it tasted.

  “Oh my god, Dev,” I said as soon as I swallowed. “This is better than my mom’s French toast, and she’s the queen of breakfast food.” Devon smiled, his dark eyes lighting up.

  “I’m glad you like it, Jenny,” he said, giving me a playful grin for the use of the nickname I hated. “Eat up—you’ve got class.” As we both devoured our breakfasts, we chatted, comparing our class schedules, talking about events around campus. Devon asked me if I was planning on joining any clubs, if I wanted to join any of the sororities. It felt so comfortable, just sitting in the kitchen, eating and talking; it was so real, so basic—something I had never known I’d missed until I had it.

  “Usually I just grab something from the dining hall, a sandwich or some fruit and coffee,” I said, cleaning up the last of the syrup on my plate with a piece of already soggy French toast. “I’m going to be in a food coma all through class now.”

  “You can afford it,” Devon said, rolling his eyes and grinning. “I think you’re probably the smartest person I know.”

  “I am not,” I protested. “Besides, you barely know me. I’m a good student, but I’m not brilliant. Now my friend Ashley—she’s genius-level. Doesn’t even have to study anything.” Devon asked about my friends, and I told him about everyone in the group, except for Kelly. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the fact that the girl who had claimed to be my best friend had been his ex, and the girl who had grabbed him after the game days before. I put Kelly out of my mind as comple
tely as possible, focusing on my other friends, telling him about the time we all lost each other in Wal-Mart and played Marco Polo to locate each other in the aisles, about the minor pranks we had pulled before our class loads got heavy enough to convince us to buckle down and study.

  I didn’t want to leave; I wished that I could stay, but my alarm on my phone went off even while I was still nursing my coffee, sipping at my orange juice, trying to prolong the time I had with Devon. “I could email the professor and tell him I’m sick,” I grumbled, looking at my phone with dismay. Devon laughed.

  “I could keep you in bed all day, but you know you’d probably just feel bad that you’re missing everything.” I smiled in spite of myself.

  “You’re probably right. Damn it.” I shook my head, sighing, and knocked back the last of my juice. “This is the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time. Really.” Devon shrugged, but I could see the pride in his eyes, the satisfaction in his smile.

  “Hey—I almost forgot to ask. Are you going to the game tonight? I won’t be able to get the great shots without my coach there in the bleachers.” I rolled my eyes, grinning.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said. “Even if I wasn’t dating the star player.” I finished off my coffee and put my dishes in the sink. Devon grabbed me around the waist from behind, turned me around, and kissed me lightly on the lips before giving me a little playful shove.

  “Go to class before you get in trouble,” he said, giving me one last, quick kiss on the forehead. I grabbed my book bag and hurried out past the other frat brothers, beaming like a 100-watt bulb.

  Chapter Seven

  As I was going from my morning class to lunch, hoping for a call or text from Devon, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I nearly dropped it in my hurry to see if it was him—only to feel a rush of disappointment when I saw instead that it was the pizza place I worked at. “What’s up?” I asked, continuing to walk towards the dining hall.