Alpha Douchebag: The Virgin: Gabriel & Willow duet #2 (Alpha Douchebags of Grifton Falls University)

by S. N. Garza

  Oh, my God. I quickly turn back around, not sure if I want to see, but when he smacks my behind again, the strike against my bottom warms my belly and heat pools between my legs. He moans, reaches one hand around my hip to between my legs, circling over my clit in fast, frantic strokes. I push back, my hands press hard against the wall, trying my best not to become a wild animal as I wiggle my ass against him.

  He presses up against me and grunts, “Wiggling this fine ass of yours isn’t going to get you anywhere. Say what I want to hear, or we’ll be in this fucking bathroom until you do.”

  While I felt bold last night, being in front of him is another thing. But I also am feeling really good too.

  “Come in my pussy, Gabriel.” I barely make out the words, breathless, hoping he’ll push back inside me where I want him again.

  “Nope. Fucking scream it, Willow.” His fingers pinch the hood of my clit and I cry out.

  “Gabriel. Please. Please, come in my pussy! Just fuck me already, Gabriel.”

  “That’s my girl.” He takes my hips in his hands and lifts me just enough to line his cock up to my vagina and in one hard, single thrust, he slams into me. Then yanks my hips back to his and the smacking of our flesh echoes in the room. “Fucking take my dick up that hot little cunt of yours, baby. So fucking wet for me.” His words are so dirty and delicious and when he smacks his hand against the wall and slides it down, oh, my God. a little pink reminder is left behind. It doesn’t stop me from feeling my body rise for relief once more. He takes… and takes… and takes.

  “Please, I can’t take any more.”

  “Yeah, you can. Doesn’t my cock feel fucking good?”

  “Yes. It’s feels so good, Gus. Fuck my pussy.”

  He grunts, groans, my name is a whispered plea on his lips, and he mutters, “About to come, baby. You ready?”

  “Yes! Please.” I close my eyes and try to hope he’s close.

  His finger flicks my clit, pushing, pulling, this back and forth frigging motion causing tears to burn behind my eyes. I want to come all over again. I’m so close. I squeeze my muscles and push back, and I feel the tip rub against that one spot he’s able to touch and I splinter, falling apart as he grunts, his front smacking into my behind.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Take it, baby. Feel my cock deep inside your tight little pussy. Uh, fuck! I’m coming, Willow. Willow—,” Gabriel groans out my name and heat spills all around me and I feel it leaking down my thighs.

  Then I feel his head lean against my shoulder blades. His hot breath skirting down the thin material of my shirt. Panting, heaving breaths as he struggles for it.

  “Goddamn, baby. I feel you so deep inside of me, Willow. I’m never giving you up. I’ll die before I let you leave me.”

  And that might sound crazy—what am I saying? It does sound crazy, but I love it.

  I’m trying to catch my breath too when I answer, “I’ll never leave you, Gabriel. Never.”

  All too soon, he’s sliding away, and I feel empty and used, but in the best way. I came completely apart.

  When he speaks, his voice is stilted, as if he has no idea what just happened. “I’ll uh… let you get cleaned up.” He turns me around and my eyes stray to the thick, heavy weight of his penis and it’s slick from our release tinted with a little extra.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Shh… it’s okay, baby. You do what you need to do, and I’ll uh… clean up out there.”

  “I need my purse and panties back.”

  His gaze looks me over and I can’t help the quiver that rolls through me. Concern lights his ocean eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

  I shake my head, gaze focusing back on the softening member nestled against the buttons of his jeans.

  “Look at me.” His voice is gruff, harsh and my eyes travel back up to his. “You good, baby?”

  Am I? I’ve never felt better. I bite my lip, nodding, smiling, and I let out a laugh. “If I was any better, I’d be dead.”

  “Can’t have that. Let me get your stuff, Willow. Stay here.” He steps back, the warmth seeping away with him as he grabs his jeans, holding them in place as he walks to wear my backpack was left on the ground and after handing them to me, he pulls something out of his back pocket. My panties.

  “Really? In your back pocket?”

  He shrugs, his smirk lifting on his face. “I wasn’t going to drop them on the floor. Especially since you probably don’t have an extra pair.”

  “Yes, well I feel all… sticky, so uh…,” I look off, not sure what else to say right now. It’s not like my period is heavy and with the birth control, the nurse said they should be light to non-existent.

  “I got it, baby.”

  Then he walks to the sinks and I close the door behind him.

  I sit on the toilet, trying to pee, but him being right there is making me self-conscience now and I can’t bring myself to go. And naturally, Gabriel notices… even through the door and feet away.

  “Really? One of those types?” Then I hear the water running,

  I’m really going to have to smack him one. It’s awkward is what it is. I’ve never peed in front of a guy before. Especially being on my period. That’s… this was definitely an experience. A really good one, but still. I finish cleaning up and it’s not a big mess. A lot is from when we both came.

  I hate putting on the same panties now that I’ve been out of them, but at least he put it in his pocket instead of letting them drop onto the floor. With everything back in place, I take a deep breath. Now, I need to get out of the stall. A swarm of emotions race throughout my body, springing goosebumps to my skin and not quite embarrassment washes over me, but this awkward, everyone is going to know what we were doing in here knowledge when we leave this bathroom.

  I’ll be forever changed after this. Everyone is going to know, but with a guy like Gabriel, no one is going to talk shit, not unless they want swift retribution.

  The water shuts off and I hear him walk closer to the stall.

  “Open the stall, Willow. I know you’re done. I heard the toilet flush.”

  He’s so direct and filled with more confidence than I know what to deal with. Taking a deep breath, I open the stall and keep my focus on the GFU logo on the front of his shirt.

  His hand lifts, hooking just beneath my chin and tilts my face up. When our eyes meet, this serious, yet calm and collected expression mars his face. “You look down to no one, Willow. Not even me. No embarrassment, baby. You look incredible. You feel even better. I took you to a place you’ve never been before and I know it’s not something you’re entirely sure about, but I told you, the only two people that fucking matter is you and me, baby. Everyone else can just fuck themselves.”

  “Even your friends and mine?”

  “Especially them. The only one I see is you, Willow.” He cups my jaw, caressing his thumb back and forth over my cheek. “Come on, baby. We’ve tarried long enough. Just remember, none of them matter. God, baby.” His hands take my cheeks and he leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. “You bring me to my knees, Willow.” And when he kisses me, nothing else matters but this.

  Eight

  Willow

  Another week goes by when at the last two practices, Coach Hanley has been missing. It’s Thursday, and when the team and I get to the gym, the referee states if we don’t have a coach, we’ll have to forfeit the game. The opposing team is one of the best in the country. It’s one of the last games of our season and we’ve come so far as a team. Without her, we’ve been getting along great. But now?

  I look up into the stands and see Gabriel with his friends in the middle of the bleachers, and Ragan and Alann close, but not too close. Ragan’s face has healed a lot better, thankfully. She hasn’t talked about what happened, and I hope one day she trusts me enough to confide in me. I don’t think Lochlan knows either. Right now, the way he’s stealing glances at her, it looks like he’s ready to pounce. His gaze is so piercing, full of sexual intent—yeah
, I now know what the look looks like since it’s the same way Gabriel looks at me sometimes. But now, there’s a softness in Gabriel’s gaze that hadn’t been before. Can I fall any deeper?

  Probably not. I’m already so in love with him.

  I spoke to Uncle Luke earlier and he told me he’d see me at Gabriel’s game Saturday, and that he hates missing when I play. He’s noticed a change in me, but he hasn’t commented on it. Which I’m glad about. I didn’t want to have another coming to Jesus moment with him.

  Beyond Ragan, Gabriel and the guys, higher in the stands, is Marcus Saint. Almost cased in shadow. Why does he hide? When he notices me looking at him, he lifts his head in acknowledgement and gives me a wink.

  A little weird, but right now, I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want the team to lose our spot in rank. We’ve been killing it lately. I walk up to the bleachers and Gabriel takes the steps two at a time.

  “What’s up, baby? You ready to kick ass again?

  I laugh, roll my eyes and smile up at him. “Hopefully, but we don’t have a coach. She’s not here. She’s been missing the last few days.”

  His brows raise high, schooled. “What? No coach means—

  “We forfeit.”

  “Fuck. She didn't say anything at your last practice?”

  “I said she’s been missing. She was there on Monday, but the last few days, nothing. Not even the seniors who’re ‘friends’ with her have been able to reach her. Phone, social media, nothing.”

  I look around again and see Marcus Saint stand up, his curiosity getting the better of him and this idea comes to me. I smile, knowing I probably shouldn’t, but there’s no way I’m forfeiting this game. We’ve worked so hard to climb up the ladder and I’m not giving in now. He tilts his head, raising a brow in question.

  He’s the only available option. The only adult I know here, and while I’m not quite sure I trust him, I trust Gabriel. And I think this will be a good thing. If I’m going to be with Gabriel, I need to get to know his father.

  I look back to Gabriel, who must have seen where I looked. When his eyes are back on me, they’re fuming as he shakes his head. “No. Don’t even think about it. No way, Willow. What did I tell you?”

  “We can’t lose this game.”

  His eyes widen and I know he’s getting angry. I’ve been able to tell when he’s close. And I’ve noticed he’s slow to anger… unless I’m involved. Then all bets are off. Which makes me beam with happiness, but there’s really no other choice.

  “But—

  “Gabriel, trust me, please. I don’t want to lose this game and I don’t know what else to do.”

  He growls his displeasure, but otherwise says, “Fine. If he says something, I’ll kick his ass.”

  “Yes, sir!” I squeal, reaching up and pull him half over to kiss his lips. Such kissable lips. I groan, lick around his mouth but just as he opens to kiss me deeper, I let him go. I’ll play with him later.

  “Thanks, babe.”

  One brow raises with mirth at my endearment, and he sighs, but it’s not in irritation.

  I turn to the referee who's beginning to walk over to the officials. I call out, “HEY! WAIT!” When I have his attention, and everyone else for that matter, I yell, “WE HAVE A COACH!” I turn to Marcus Saint and call out to him. “MR. SAINT!”

  He looks left to right and then slow as he pleases, he casually takes the steps down until he’s standing next to his son. They’re both the same height and while it’s almost intimidating, I’m not afraid of him. Neither of them.

  “Yes, Willow?”

  “Our coach is M.I.A. You have to be our coach. There’s no one else.”

  “You think I have time for this, Miss. Mason?”

  “Yes. You’re here, aren’t you? Get down here and be our coach. We’re not going to forfeit a game because the coach hates me.”

  “Hmmm…,” his gaze travels over the length of my body, as if inspecting every inch of me and I don’t feel intimidated per se, but it’s still a very dark, brooding stare. But instead of the sexual brooding one Gabriel gives me, it’s more of a fatherly stare he gives me.

  Mr. Saint gives Gabriel a side eye before sending me a smirk. Then with a roll of his eyes, he jumps over the stands, and casually walks to the line of chairs on our side.

  Gabriel is burning lasers into the back of his head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Shaking his head, his eyes trail after his father. “I’m not sure about this.”

  Then I hear Marcus Saint’s voice bellow from where he’s standing by the referee’s chair. “What the hell do I look like to you? An imbecile? You just ref and I’ll do the coaching.”

  We turn to see his dad take control of the court as if he’s been doing it forever.

  Then he turns to me, smirks and calls out, “Mason! Get over here, girl. You don’t have time for that boy.”

  “That is your dad, Gabriel.” I turn back to Gabriel, who narrows his gaze at his dad before turning my way. This smirk twists on his lips when he slides a hand to the back of my neck and plants a solid, unforgettable kiss to my lips.

  He lets go and whispers “Go kick some ass, baby.”

  First thing we did was huddle up and he was giving us the run down when I heard one of the girls snicker and whisper, “She’s fucking his son. Figures she’d try to get all familial with his dad. Probably trying to get him in the sack too. I heard things about him, too.”

  Oh, my God. I turn back, only to see Marcus Saint’s eyes began blazing.

  “You. The one with the big fucking mouth. Get the fuck out this gym or you’re going to regret being alive. While I’m here, you will never be playing on this team.”

  “Oh, please. You’re not our coach.”

  Yeah, he’s not, but he’s the best we’ve got, and the other girls look between Vero, the loudmouth, and Marcus, trying to see if he’ll back down. But if he’s anything like Gabriel… that’ll be a no. But unlike Gabriel, Marcus Saint does exude a power and presence that makes him the authority over a lot of people.

  “Maybe you’ll find yourself out of GFU. Do you not know who I am, little bitch?”

  We all get slack-jawed but before we can say anything, Vero huffs and puffs, turns and storms out of the gym.

  “Alright. Now that we got the trash out of the way, let’s fucking play and kick their asses, girls. Willow, you’re not serving first this time.”

  “Why not? I’ve been—

  “Don’t interrupt me.”

  That took me back and I see Gabriel in my peripherals, standing up, and it looks as if he’s ready to bolt over the stands and get in front of me.

  “Don’t worry about him, either. I’m not serving you, so they get a false sense of encouragement. Then we’ll fucking crush them.”

  And we did. And Mr. Saint was a great coach. I wave to Gabriel to hang out at the stand while the girls begin chatting amongst themselves, happy that we won another game. Four straight is impressive. I feel more than hear Marcus Saint behind me, and when I get close to the locker room door, I turn, and he abruptly stops himself before crashing into me.

  “You can’t come in there. It’s a girl’s locker room. They’re changing.”

  “Not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.” He says, quirking his eyebrow and looking at me with this privileged, arrogant stare.

  “Well, you’ve never seen me, Mr. Saint. And you never will.”

  “That’s gross. It’s like seeing my own daughter.”

  “But you don’t have one.” And the wistful sigh that escapes his lips tells me he wishes different.

  “You don’t know if I have one or not. And Willow, I’d never do that to you. I don’t need to go in there. I was waiting for you to turn and say something.”

  “Like what?”

  He shrugs his shoulders and the diamond in his ear twinkles in the light. He runs his fingers through his hair, a small, gentle smile lifting on his face. I figure out what he wants
. He wants to be validated.

  So, I smack him a good one on his shoulder, causing him to barely budge, but to my surprise, the smile widens on his face.

  “So, Coach Saint, how’d you like your first win?”

  Snorting, he shakes his head. “It was alright. And what do you mean by first? It’s not as if I’ll ever be doing this again. This was a one-time deal, babygirl.”

  The southern drawl when he says that brings a smile to my lips, but I’m on to him. He can’t fool me just like Gabriel can’t fool me.

  I playfully punched his arm and laugh, telling him, “You’re so full of it. You loved it out there. You can’t lie to me and tell me you didn't. I’ve never seen a parent in the stands that didn’t have a kid on the team be as proactive as you were on that sideline.”

  He rolls his eyes and snickered. “You did great. As always. I’ll find out what happened to your coach, alright? It’s not like Britney to just up and disappear like this.”

  “What, don’t think you can handle a bunch of girls? And you’re on a first name basis with her? You know she hates my guts, right?”

  “Does she? Hmmm…,” he gives me a droll look. His gaze tells me handling girls is the least of his worries. “Babygirl, I can handle it all. But I do have an empire to run.” He says that with no heat in his tone whatsoever, so I know it’s only partially true. He didn’t tell me how he knew Coach Hanley, but I guess it really doesn’t matter.

  “But you’ve been here the last few games. And I can tell you’re enjoying yourself. You can’t lie to me about that.”

  “Didn’t say either way, Willow. And yeah, maybe I did enjoy myself.”

  “If she doesn’t come back, will you coach us? We only have a few more games before the championship. Not that we’ll get into it—

  “I won’t have any girl of mine thinking so bad about what you can’t control. And you never know. The record is in good standing. We might just make it.”

  “See? Coach Saint.”

  I bite my lip, trying to hold in a laugh. With laughter lighting his eyes, he shrugs, looks past me to see some of my teammates staring at us, watching our exchange. Good grief. It’s like they have big emoji hearts popping out of their eyes. Not that I blame them when they swoon. Because yeah, Marcus Saint is a good-looking older version of Gabriel.