by Jacob Chance
“You forget something?” He crooks his index finger infuriating me more. How can he be such a dick to me after last night? My cheeks suffuse with an angry heat and my heartbeat races so fast I hear it in my ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. He’s sure to give me angina and I’m only twenty-one.
Trudging toward him, resentment seeps from my pores with each step I take. He’d have to be an idiot not to notice. Stopping when only a foot separates us, I swear his body is giving off heat or maybe it’s just the steam rushing out of my ears. I’m beyond the point of rage now. I want to punch him in the face, rip his limbs off, kiss his lips. No. He’s an asshole.
“Yes, sir,” I grit the two words out as if they’re caught in my throat.
Flashing a cocky grin, his blue eyes seem even brighter in his tan face. “Now you can go.”
I whirl around so fast my ponytail lashes me across the face. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I recite those three words repeatedly until I get to the bench where my bottle of water stands. Guzzling down the cool liquid, I wipe the sweat from my brow with my forearm. I don’t think any man has ever enraged me as much as Coach does. And what’s even worse is under all this disgust lies an attraction like I’ve never experienced before. Every part of my body tingles with pulses of energy when he’s near. I come alive under his stare. It’s disconcerting for someone I don’t like to have this effect on me. I’m spiraling out of control and have no idea what to do about it. Did I make a huge mistake last night? Fuck. It’s not only that.
Did I make a mistake transferring here?
Chapter Ten
Zeke
“I want you guys reviewing the playbook before our next practice. There seems to be some confusion and all it takes is one person to be off their assignment to screw up the entire play. Now give me two laps around and stretch for ten minutes before you head out. Practices will be increasing in difficulty and flexibility is important to avoid injuries.”
A chorus of “Yes, sir,” follows me as I head toward the side door of the brick building. When I step inside it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the fluorescent lights dotting the hallway ceiling. When they do, I notice Amelia leaning back, one sole braced against the cement wall, arms crossed over her chest. I can tell she’s upset.
“Follow me,” I order. Her eyes reluctantly rise from the black rubber matted floor, a spark of anger still flames in the brown depths.
She pushes off the wall and uses long strides to keep up with my fast pace as I lead her down two more hallways before opening the door to my office. Gesturing for her to precede me, I even manage to keep from staring at her ass for more than a passing glance as the door swings closed behind us. Maybe remaining professional with Amelia isn’t as difficult as I’ve been making it. “Take a seat,” I say, pointing to the two metal folding chairs before maneuvering around to sit on the other side of the large desk. Sinking down into the worn leather, I lean forward bracing my forearms on the wood. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“Here as in your office, or here as in Boston?”
I tilt my head. “Really? This is how you want this to go?”
She shrugs. “I’ve never had a problem with any coach I’ve ever had.”
“So, what’s that supposed to mean?” I inquire. “Are you insinuating it must be me?”
She leans forward bracing her palms on her toned thighs. “I’m not insinuating anything, I’m flat out saying it’s your fault.”
Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms, willing to humor her for now. “How do you figure?”
“You’re impatient and…” She pauses searching for the right words.
“And? Don’t hold back for my benefit, sweetheart.”
She narrows her eyes at the endearment. “You’re impatient and rude.”
I laugh. “Tell me what you really think.”
“Hey, you asked.”
“Yes, I did. And you know what?”
“What?” she fires back.
Shifting my weight, I rest a foot over my knee as if I have all the time in the world. “I don’t care if you like me or hate me. Either works. What I do care about is that you treat me with respect and follow my instructions.”
“Respect is earned,” she fires back sassily.
Damn, what a fresh little shit. I fight off the desire to snatch her up by her long ponytail and give her the kiss of her lifetime. Then she wouldn’t be able to spit barbs out at me and she might learn to follow instructions. Since I can’t do what I want I settle for the professional option. “I wasn’t done speaking, Amelia.” I stare at her until she begins to squirm in her seat. I thought after our dinner last night we’d come to some sort of silent agreement that we’d be amicable.
“Sorry,” she whispers, contritely. Her apology has me thinking I may be making progress with her.
“I don’t care if you like me or not, but you will not disrespect me or disregard my instructions on the field. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she grumbles the second word, reluctantly. Maybe there is no making progress with Amelia and this is as good as it gets. Maybe I need to ask outright what her problem is. I might not get the answer I’m looking for, but I won’t have any insight into her thought process if I don’t.
“What makes you think it’s okay to disrespect me?” I question, my gaze focused fully on her.
She reacts immediately, irritation showing in her expression as she leans forward in her seat. “Did you forget the first words you said to me?”
“No, I haven’t, but that was over two weeks ago and I admitted I’d made an error. What else have I done to deserve such disdain from you?”
She presses her lips together and studies me contemplatively.
The silence stretches on and becomes awkward. “What?” I quirk a brow questioningly. “If I’ve done something wrong, tell me. I’d like to know so I can rectify the situation.”
“Last night I thought you might apologize for the presumptuous remarks you made when we met.”
I bark out a laugh. Amelia’s not afraid to speak her mind. I like this about her. She’s soft and beautiful on the outside and tough as nails on the inside. It’s a sexy as fuck combination and I’m sure that’s why she’s such a great quarterback. This girl has heart in spades and it makes her even more irresistible. I’ve never been attracted to the wallflower type.
“Is that what you need? You want me to say I’m sorry for mistaking you for a cheerleader?”
“It’s a start.”
A grin slips over my lips. “Amelia, please accept my sincerest apologies for confusing you with a cheerleader. What can I say? I couldn’t imagine anyone as beautiful as you playing football. You look like a model not a quarterback.”
“So, attractive girls have to be models? That’s all they’re good for? I’m pretty sure all the girls on the team would find that comment as offensive as I do.”
“No, I doubt that very much. You’re just looking for a fight and I’m not going to give you one. You know why I’m not?”
She shrugs. “Nope.”
“Because I run the offense for the Terriers and if you don’t like how I do it then you can get the hell out and play for another team.”
Her eyes narrow, golden flecked irises shooting sparks of anger my way. “Fine. I’ll do that.” She rises to her feet and spins around.
I’m out of my seat and have a hand on the door above her head before she can leave.
She tugs on the handle. “Let me out of here.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She wheels around to face me. “You can’t keep me here.”
“Don’t be so sure, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your sweetheart.”
“No, we both know there’s nothing sweet about you. You’re willful and stubborn. I want to spank your defiant ass.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You can’t say things
like that to me.”
I smirk and lean close until my lips hover only inches over hers. “I just did.”
“Well, you’re an asshole. You’re so arrogant it’s offensive. I can’t decide if I want to punch you in the face or kick you in the balls.”
My eyes widen at her frank reply. One of my hands climbs up her spine to cradle the nape of her neck while the other cups her jaw tipping her chin upward. My thumb drags across her bottom lip tracing the plump pink curve. Is the pillowy softness sugary sweet, or tart like her spirited personality?
“What about now? Am I still offensive?” I husk. Her slitted eyes glimmer with an undisguised desire I can’t ignore. The umpteen reasons I have for keeping my distance flee my mind and I crash our lips together, swallowing her gasp of surprise. Driving her back against the wood with a dull thud, I press every possible inch of my body to hers. My tongue takes possession of her mouth, twisting and twining around hers, tasting the surprising honeyed sweetness.
She greedily returns my kiss, clawing at the back of my neck, nails digging into my skin like she’s starved for my touch. I grind my cock into her clit and she wraps a leg around my hip pressing her heel into my ass, urging me on.
Gripping her rear, I lift and rock her into my steel-like cock. Our fiery exchange becomes less of a kiss and more of a war as our frenzied hands caress every inch of skin they can reach. We’re an inferno of passion growing more volatile with each flick and stroke of our tongues.
Amelia’s hands slip under my shirt and I growl, tearing my mouth from hers. My lips glide across her cheek to nibble on the delicate skin below her ear. Trailing bruising kisses along the column of her neck, I want to mark her golden skin as a reminder of this explosive connection we share.
A door slamming nearby has us jumping apart as if we’ve been caught in the act. Both of us freeze in place, staring at each other in shock while our lungs heave and haul in ragged gasps of air. My mind races replaying the last few minutes and I can’t move my eyes from Amelia’s, at least not until a knock on the door abruptly breaks the spell. We bolt into action, my hand grips the handle while Amelia settles back onto the seat in front of my desk.
Opening the door, I find Mark standing there. “Hey, man.” I step back and motion him inside. He hesitates when he sees Amelia.
“I don’t want to interrupt you guys. I just wanted to go over a few things before the next practice.”
“You’re not interrupting at all. We just finished up, right Amelia?”
“Yes, sir.” She rises to her feet and wipes her palms on the front of her thighs. I can tell she’s nervous.
“We can reevaluate what we discussed after our next practice.”
She licks her lips, still swollen from my kiss and nervously nods like a bobblehead.
“You’re free to go now, Amelia.”
“Oh, right.” She smiles meekly at Mark and I before progressing toward the door.
“Have a good day,” I call out when she tugs the door open. She flicks a quick glance over her shoulder at me. “Bye.”
Once the door closes I move around my desk and lower onto my seat as Mark sits in the chair Amelia vacated. “So, what can I do for you?”
“I wanted to see how you thought practices are going so far. Any good or bad surprises?”
“I think we’re right on schedule. Amelia, Grace, and Leah are great additions to the team.”
“How’s Amelia’s attitude? Did I see you kick her out of practice?”
“You did, but it wasn’t really necessary. It was my way of teaching her a lesson more than anything. She changed up a play I called and her instincts were spot on, but for the sake of learning the plays I wanted it to be done my way.”
“Ah, now I understand. She looked like she was spitting nails.”
“Yeah, I’m sure given a choice she would’ve kicked me in the balls, but I think we worked some of her frustration out.”
Did we ever.
“Glad to hear it. I figured we’d have some growing pains with new players on the team, but I know it’s temporary. Once they get used to our way things will be smoother.”
Growing pains are an understatement. Blue balls are more like it.
“Exactly. I just wanted to make sure Amelia understood there’s a pecking order and she’s not at the top.”
“I’m glad you did. We don’t need any problems further on in the season.” He stands and steps around his chair. “I’ll see you at practice later this week. Keep me abreast of any issues that arise.”
“You know I will. You’re the big cheese, man and I’m glad that responsibility lies in your hands.”
My gaze follows Amelia’s every move as she serves each customer with a gracious smile on her lips. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from her for longer than a second at a time. Ever since this morning she’s all I’ve thought about. I imagined kissing her would eliminate the problem, not exacerbate it. I naively believed I’d worked the attraction up in my head and sharing a kiss with her would be a letdown. It couldn’t possibly measure up to the standards I’d built up in my mind, right? Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong. As soon as our lips touched I knew that theory was debunked and our attraction was stronger than either of us imagined. We practically set my office door ablaze and if Mark hadn’t interrupted we might’ve. I’m not sure I would have been able to stop myself from taking her right then and there. She makes me lose all sense of reason and no one’s ever done that before, not even Claire.
Trevor nudges my arm with his elbow. “See something you like, bro? I know I do.” He nods toward Amelia with a crooked grin on his face.
“Don’t even think of going there.”
“Why not? As far as I know she’s not in a relationship, seems like she’s fair game to me.”
“She’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m telling you.”
“You’re gonna have to do better than that, dude. She’s gorgeous and talented. All the guys are talking about her and the other new girls, too.”
“She’s off limits.” Grimacing, I know I need to confide in him. “I kissed her earlier today.”
“Get the fuck out.”
“I’m not joking. I wish I was. It would be so much easier if I were.”
“Can’t you lose your job over something like this?”
“Yep, I could, but I’m pretty sure kissing her would be worth it.”
“That must have been some kiss.”
“It was.” My gaze finds Amelia, studying every inch of her. Her long legs are wrapped in skin tight jeans and her long tresses wave loosely over her shoulders and down her back in a shiny, sexy, dark brown curtain. The deep V neck of her Goliath’s t-shirt teases me, stirring images of sliding my cock between her ample tits. She’s got more than a handful that’s for sure. My fingers long to caress and familiarize themselves with each of her alluring curves. I want to savor the sensation of her skin under my touch and her body underneath me. Our kiss was only a prelude of what could come, but it can’t happen. No matter how much I wish circumstances were different… they aren’t.
Chapter Eleven
Amelia
Zeke—I mean Coach—fuck it, he’s Zeke. We swapped spit, surely we can be on a first name basis now. Zeke’s eyes burn into me with an unparalleled intensity. He’s been watching me for the past hour. Every time I swing my gaze in his direction, he’s staring. Hungrily. Predatorily. The heat in his blue depths makes my insides tumble uneasily. I place a hand over my stomach to soothe the fluttery feeling similar to hundreds of butterflies being set free. Damn. Jason never made me so wonderfully off balance and excited at the same time.
My head’s been in a fog all day since he kissed me. Although, the word kiss seems too simple to describe the earth-shattering moment we shared. The second our lips touched was life changing. Is it possible to have a whole body orgasm? Because I’m pretty sure I did. I might’ve been the first person to experience this phenome
non. And looking at Zeke has my stomach unsettled all over again.
I want to run my fingers through his black hair and sexily muss the thick strands. His broad shoulders taper down to defined biceps hugged by his tight short sleeve t-shirt. I want to run my hands over the bulging muscles that flex every time he moves. The gray material stretches taut across his wide back as he casually leans on the bar, calling up memories of what it felt like to touch the solid expanse. All the power and strength under my fingertips had me longing for so much more.
For the rest of my shift I do my best to ignore Zeke and his watchful gaze by focusing on my job. I lose myself in the simple tasks required of me and interact with the customers to the best of my ability. If nothing else, I’m earning great tips and I can sure use the money.
Owen is a great distraction, cracking jokes every time I head to the bar to pick up drink orders. He’s had me in stitches in between bouts of watching Zeke. “Hey, before I forget, my roommates and I are having a party tomorrow night.”
“Sorry, I have plans.”
“No, you don’t.”
“How do you know?”
“You just moved here and you work most nights.”
“You’re right. I’m pathetic.”
He grins. “I want to see you there.”
“Yes, sir,” I joke with a salute. “What time should I come over?”
He rubs his index finger along the bottom of his chin. “Around eight works. I’ll text you my address.”
“You don’t have my phone number.”
“I sure do. I got it from Kip the first night you started working here. What should surprise you is that I haven’t used it yet.” He winks.
“Yeah, thanks for that. I appreciate you not making things weird.”