Page 68 of Coach Me

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Before I know it, spring break has arrived and the team has the week off, but are to return Thursday for practice.

On Wednesday, I get a text from Amber.

Amber: Your place clean yet?

I laugh at the message, then look around my apartment. It’s mostly clean. A few dishes in the sink, but not many.

Me: Clean enough.

Amber: Send me your address. I want to see you.

I don’t hesitate. I send her the address immediately. I assume she didn’t go back home for spring break.

I get up and wash the dishes and then take a quick shower. By the time I’m dressed in basketball shorts, I hear a knock at the door.

I hurry to open it and there she is.

Her hair is pulled into a wavy bun and she’s wearing gold hoops. She put on makeup too, but I have to say I like it better when she doesn’t wear it. She doesn’t need it. She’s sexy as hell without it.

Her eyes drop to my chest as she starts to say something, but the words are caught in her throat.

Then her eyes dart back up to mine and I can’t help myself. I reel her in by the wrist, reach for her face, and kiss her.

The door slams as I shut it and I pick her up in my arms, stumbling toward the sofa. Her back lands on the cushions and it’s impossible for either of us to take a moment to breathe. We’ve been wanting this—needing this—for weeks. We’d committed to our promise, now it was time for the reward.

She tugs her shirt over her head and I lean up to push my shorts down. I help her get her leggings off and once they’ve been discarded along with her pink panties, I go back to where we were at, my mouth on hers, tasting her like I’ve wanted to for the past five weeks.

Shit. It’s been five weeks since Vito’s. Five weeks too long since I last touched her.

“Are we really doing this?” she asks, breaths ragged.

I look down at her. “Only if you want to.”

She nods eagerly. “I do.”

I reach down to fist my cock, her eagerness setting me on fire. I’m throbbing like a motherfucker. It’s been so long since I’ve fucked. “Are you protected?” I ask.

“Yes. Have been since high school.”

“Good.” I stroke my cock, looking into her eyes. “I want you raw. Need it.”

She looks down at the hardness in my fist and then back up at me.

“Take me then,” she pleads, and that’s all she needs to say. I dive back down and kiss her throat, my fist still around my cock as I angle it at the opening of her pussy. I slide the head of my cock up and down her warm slit. Fuck, she’s so wet already.

I can’t hold back any longer. Every part of me is screaming to thrust my way inside her pussy and fuck her. Another part of me is telling me to take it easy on her, since it’s our first time and all, but I don’t think I can. I’ve wanted this since the night in the hotel in Raleigh—to be buried balls-deep inside her, hear how she moans, feel her warm, brown skin on mine.

I thrust my hips forward and her pussy takes me in inch by inch. She’s wet and tight, and fuck me, she feels so goddamn good. She moans when she feels me all there and that moan is what I’ve been needing. Sweet and innocent and all mine.

“Shit, Amber,” I groan in her ear. “I won’t be able to go easy,” I warn her.

“Then don’t.” She hooks an arm around the back of my neck and leans her upper body up to mine. “Fuck me the same way you coach me.”

Damn.

That one sentence is about to turn me into a manic. It’s the fuel I need—the words I never knew I craved—and I’m about to make her mine in every way.

Hell, at least I warned her.

FORTY

As soon as Torres opened that door, shirtless and with his shorts low on his hips, revealing a delicious V that I had never really paid attention to before now, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold back from him.

It was every bit of my intention to come here and finally have sex with him, and now? Now he’s between my legs and inside me. My arm is hooked around him to hold me steady and, no, I don’t want him to hold back.

I’ve had fantasies and dreams about what it would be like if Torres and I finally had sex. None of those fantasies ever revealed anything soft or sweet because Torres is not soft and sweet. He’s commanding and brutal and firm, and I want every bit of that, even right now.

Torres works his way deeper inside me. I gasp and moan, feeling him when he’s deep and aching for him when his strokes are shallow. The whole time, he’s looking into my eyes and I can feel his cock swelling inside me, growing harder and harder, and I moan my pleasure.


Tags: Shanora Williams Romance