Possessive Coach Page 8

  I sip my beer and glare down at the lacquered wooden bar top, trying not to lose my temper.

  “There he is.” A tall guy with light brown skin, short black hair, and light brown eyes leans up against the bar next to me. He’s wearing the same team polo I have on, tucked into jeans, and his biceps are both covered in black tattoos, faded with age. “How’s it going, David?”

  “Hey, Frank.” I nod at the stool next to me. “Join me.”

  He grunts and pulls it out. Frank’s the linebacker coach and looks like it. He used to play back in the day, first for Notre Dame, then for the Canadian league before hurting his knee and retiring early. He’s been bouncing around from team to team for a while, but ended up here when I offered him a job at the start of last season.

  “Man, you seemed pissed today,” Frank says, nodding at the bartender and ordering a whiskey neat. “And you didn’t hesitate to take it out on the kids.”

  I grunt and shrug. “Hardy wanted to go easy. I disagreed.”

  “I bet. Hardy didn’t look happy when you made them runs sprints.” He chuckled. “Not that I mind. My boys were getting soft. Needed a little breaking in.”

  I grin at him and nudge his arm. “They’re soft because you’re soft, Frankie.”

  He laughs and pushes me back. “Please, kid. I could bench ten of you.”

  “Might be true,” I admit. “But I’m taller and much better looking.”

  Frank grins and shrugs. He’s got crooked teeth and talks with a very slight lisp, but he’s a good guy and the closest thing I have to a friend in this damn place.

  “So what’s got you worked up, anyway?”

  I hesitate and shake my head. “Some bullshit I shouldn’t talk about.”

  “Come on. You’re in a safe space.” He gestures around at them. “This is the Tight End Lounge. It’s the finest drinking establishment around.”

  “It’s the closest, you mean,” I correct. The Tight End Lounge is a couple blocks from my apartment. It’s packed on weekends with CU students, most of them underage, but the bartender is too blind to notice, or too blinded by money to care.

  “Fair enough.” He shrugs a little. “You and Hardy getting along?”

  “Mostly,” I say.

  “Uh oh.”

  “We disagree on how to treat our players,” I say slowly, swirling my beer. The bartender returns with Frank’s whiskey in a small, cloudy glass. He has white hair, pale skin, a wrinkled face, and always has on the same denim shirt, night after night. He must have a closet full of them, that or he always stinks like whiskey and puke.

  “Look, I don’t mean to push if you don’t want to talk. I’m just saying, I could help you out. I don’t always agree with Hardy, you know.”

  I give him a look and he shrugs, sipping his whiskey. “I appreciate that,” I say. “Truth is, Erik Pacific is the issue.”

  Frank lets out a groan. “Oh, shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I can pretty much see where this is going, but you walk me there anyway.”

  “Broad strokes are Erik’s been harassing a young lady on campus. Coach refuses to do shit about it. I think that’s wrong, Coach thinks Erik will leave if we start treating him like a fucking person instead of an endless ATM.”

  “Damn,” Frank says, shaking his head. He takes a longer sip of his whiskey and lets out a sigh. “Shit’s the same everywhere. My last job, we had a kid like that, this really stellar running back. Kid was a fucking asshole, just a real piece of shit, but he got away with it because he scored at least a touchdown every single game. Coach didn’t care and I couldn’t do shit.”

  “Yeah, well, I care. And I’m going to do something about it.”

  He snorts. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Look, man. Hardy will fire your ass before he lets Erik Pacific go. That kid is really good and he doesn’t fucking belong here at CU. We all know it, the kid knows it, too. He just likes being the star, that’s all.”

  I clench my jaw as my anger flares up. “So I should just let him get away with it then? Turn my back.”

  “Now, I didn’t say that.” Frank leans forward on his elbows and lets out a breath. “Look, is there a way to get the kid in line without sticking your neck out?”

  “If you think of something, I’m all ears.”

  Frank just shrugs. “I don’t like the boy. I’d love to see him get an ass whooping at practice. Hell, maybe a big hit will knock some sense into him.”

  I frown. “Hardy wouldn’t like that, but he couldn’t fire me for it, either.”

  “True enough. And you might even walk away, no problem, if the hit looks like an accident.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good.” Frank grins at me. “You’re a good dude, David. And I’m not just saying that because you’re my boss.”

  “Yes, you are,” I say, grinning at him. “But I appreciate it.”

  “You need any help with this shit, you come to me. All right?” He hesitates and his smile fades. “The other coaches all owe their loyalty to Hardy. You know that, right?”

  “I know it, but I don’t like to hear it.”

  “Just speaking the truth. They’ll turn on you in a second.”

  I tilt my head. “But you won’t.”

  “Not my style. Besides, I like you. And you got me this job.”

  “And we’re friends.”

  He laughs and finishes his drink. He gestures for another and slides the empty down the bar toward the old bartender. “That too.”

  I laugh and sip my beer again. I wipe my face and stare at the half-empty, dusty bottles in the back for a long moment before shaking my head. “Wish I could just let it go.”

  “But you can’t, so here we are.”

  I reach into my pocket, take out my old brown leather wallet, and toss some cash on the bar. “This one’s on me,” I say.

  “Much obliged.”

  “I’m going to head back home and try to sort this shit out.”

  “Good luck, man.” Frank shakes my hand and I pat him on the shoulder as I head out. I step out into the cool evening air, take a deep breath, smell the salty ocean on the breeze, and let myself smile.

  A good, hard hit will do Erik some good.

  It won’t solve this problem though. He’s going to push until he gets what he wants. I know it, just can’t see any other way around it. I need to keep moving forward though, no matter what.

  In the meantime, I’d better talk to Chloe and see where she’s at.

  10

  Chloe

  I hurry across a grassy expanse across from the science building and cut down onto the brick sidewalk. It’s around nine at night, and I only spot a couple other students, walking with their heads down and their backpacks pulled tight. The CU campus is safe at night, but it’s still a little spooky to be the only one around, especially considering what happened with Erik.

  I skirt around the side of the bland science building and spot a bench underneath a large shade tree. It sits right at the intersection of two paths, and overlooks another large grassy expanse. During the day, students sit out there on blankets, throw frisbees, play music, that sort of thing. But tonight, it’s empty and spooky as I head for the bench.

  I sit down but I can’t seem to relax. My body feels tense and I bite my lip as my leg jostles. The path remains empty, the red and brown bricks leading toward the parking lot to my right and the humanities buildings off to my left. I’m tempted to get up and head back home, but David told me to meet him here, and so I’m going to meet him.

  Fortunately, I don’t have to wait long. I spot him coming from the parking lot two minutes later. He’s wearing dark jeans, slim but not tight, complementing his muscular frame. His tight short-sleeve button-down looks incredible and I feel a strange surge of emotion as he slows and tilts his head, a little smile on his lips. There’s a five o’clock shadow on his cheeks and he looks so rugged, so handsome.

 
“Hey,” I say.

  “Hey. Glad you came.”

  “Sure.” I smile a little. “How’s it going?”

  “Not bad.” He steps toward me. “Come on. Let’s walk.” He offers me his hand.

  I take it and stand. He drops my hand and we walk together toward the humanities buildings. The wind whistles through the bushes, just a slight breeze coming off the ocean. I feel like I can hear the waves, but really I can only hear the buzzing of the fluorescent lights that keep the campus bright even in the middle of the night.

  “How are you holding up?” he asks. “I could tell you were shaken earlier.”

  “Better now,” I say. “Still a little pissed.”

  “I’m pissed too. But I know that doesn’t help much.”

  “It does.” I lean my shoulder against his. “So what’s up, why did you want to meet me here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you in person.” He leads me around toward the science building. There’s a small path, just a few cobblestones, that leads into an outcropping of bushes next to the building. He takes me down that path, reaching back for my hand. I slip my palm against his, and he leads me through the bushes and into a small clearing.

  It’s like a tiny paradise. There’s a bench next to a small fountain. The fountain’s concrete, stained from the water in a few places. It bubbles quietly, but instead of winged babies firing lethal weapons, it’s a compass spouting water up along its face, the water dripping down its sides and back into the pool.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  “Science department got some big donation my first year and they built this with it. But then some asshole put those bushes in and it basically got forgotten about.”

  “It’s really nice.” I walk over and sit on the edge of the fountain. He sits next to me.

  “I talked to Hardy,” he says.

  I frown a little and stare down at my feet. I kick my toes through the grass and curl my fingers into the rough concrete of the fountain. I don’t say anything, even though I want to. I know this isn’t going to be a good conversation. If Hardy was going to do something worthwhile, I think he would’ve opened with that instead of bringing me here in person.

  “I want to say there’s good news,” he goes on, voice soft. “But this is how things go. Erik’s worth millions to this school, and you’re just some… some random girl.”

  I look at him and his face is twisted in rage. He stands up suddenly and paces away. I stare at the pure animal rage he’s exuding, his body tense.

  “It’s fucked up,” he says. “That we’d let some asshole kid harass a decent, kind girl just because he brings in football money. It’s fucked up and wrong.”

  “He’s really not going to do anything at all?” I ask. “Not even talk to Erik?”

  David rubs his eyes. “It’s complicated.”

  “Dumb it down for me then,” I say, my voice harsher than I intended.

  He winces and looks away. “Erik’s being scouted,” he says. “CU isn’t exactly known as being a huge powerhouse team. He could get better money, more press, more prestige somewhere else. Big teams are trying to take him away.”

  “That’s a thing in college?” I ask, a little surprised. “I knew it was a thing in professional football. But in college?”

  “It’s a thing,” he says. “Not a widely known or widely accepted thing, but it’s very real. Hardy thinks if we don’t kiss Erik’s ass, he’ll leave.”

  “So he’s just going to throw me under the bus.”

  “More or less.” He turns to face me then, his body tense with rage. I can see it written all over him, and I’m shocked at how it radiates from him. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

  “David,” I say softly.

  He steps closer then kneels down in front of me. He reaches forward, wrapping his arms around my hips, and pulls me forward. I let out a little breath, as the fingers of one hand move up to slide into my hair while the other cups my ass.

  “I told you, Chloe,” he whispers. “You’re mine. And I don’t let people fuck with what’s mine.”

  “You can’t do anything, though,” I say. “Hardy will fire you.”

  “He will,” David agrees. “And if that happens, there’s nothing I can do at all to protect you.”

  “So then we’re fucked.”

  He shakes his head and pulls me against him tighter. He kisses me, tongue exploring my mouth, and I moan into that kiss. I wrap my hands around his neck and feel his hard body against my own. He pulls back, kisses my neck. “We’re not fucked,” he whispers. “I’m going to fight back. I’ll have to be subtle about it, but Erik’s not invincible.”

  “I don’t want you to get in trouble for me,” I say, biting my lip.

  He lets out a little growl. “You think I care about that?” he asks. “You think I care about anything else? Listen to me, Chloe. I care about making sure you’re taken care of.”

  I let out a moan as he kisses me again. His hand tightens in my hair, holding it hard, pulling it back. I groan as he kisses my lips, and the pleasure of him taking me, controlling me, telling me that I’m his washes over me in waves. I press my body tighter and I want to be taken, swallowed up, controlled, dominated. I want him to take what he needs from me, so long as he leaves me something of my own.

  I whisper his name as he pulls my hair tighter. Then his hands release me and he pulls at the hem of my top. He slides it up over my hair and I gasp as I sit there in just my bra. He kisses my chest, teases my breasts, lets out a groan of his own.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he whispers. “Look at your beautiful skin, your perfect breasts. Fuck, Chloe. I don’t think I can let you leave here without tasting you again.”

  “Yes,” I moan as he grabs my hair again and forces my legs open. He unbuttons my jean shorts and tugs them off. His hand slides down the front of my jean shorts and he finds my clit. I’m soaking wet, I’ve been soaking wet since the moment we came back here and I knew what he wanted.

  But this time, as his fingers work my clit, I reach down and find his jeans. I unbutton them, unzip the fly, tug at them. He growls as I stand up and push him back, biting my lip. I drop to my knees on the grass as I pull his jeans off, stroking his cock through his boxer briefs. He wraps his hand in my hair.

  “Look at you,” he purrs. “Down on your knees.”

  “You like me down here?” I ask, biting my lip. His cock is rock hard and straining against the cotton underwear. I can already tell he’s huge, thick and long, and I’m dying to taste him on my tongue. I reach up and slide his underwear down, his cock sliding out. I let out a little moan as I take his shaft in my hand and stroke him.

  “I love you on your knees,” he growls, taking my hair hard. I moan and stroke him with both hands before taking his tip into my mouth.

  I suck him hard, tongue rolling around, as he pushes me down his shaft. I suck him faster, bobbing up and down his length, sucking his cock hard and loving every taste of him. He groans, pulls me back, kisses me and pulls me to my feet.

  I take his cock in both my hands, stroking him, desperate and feverish for it. He moves back, pulling me along with him, and he sits down onto the bench. He pulls me on top of him, and I kneel on the wooden slats. It’s rough against my knees but I’m only thinking about him, about his thick cock, about how he’s going to fit inside of me. He reaches down and pushes my panties aside as I wiggle my hips, moving forward to feel his tip slide against my slick spot.

  He growls and bites my lip, fists my hair, pulls it tight. I move my hips and feel him push inside me. I grab onto the back of the bench and slowly take him deep inside, letting out a low, intense groan as he fills me.

  He kisses my chest, barely covered by my black bra. I stare into his eyes and the world disappears as his cock sinks inside of me. I’m his, all of me is his, and he can do whatever he wants with me.

  I slide up and began to ride his cock. He grabs my ass, spanks it, and I ride him faster. He fills me to the brim, s
tretches me out, and the pleasure mixes with pain in a sweet, incredible tornado of desire. I keep panting his name, over and over again. “Fuck me, David,” I gasp, throwing my head back as he grabs my hair and slaps my ass hard. He thrusts up, fucking me, and my knees knock against the hard wooden slats of the bench.

  He pulls me off him and I realize just how slick I am. I kneel down, knees back on the grass, and lick my pussy juice from his hard, throbbing cock. He moans and I take him into my throat. “You like the way you taste?” he whispers. “You like to clean your tight cunt off my thick cock?”

  “Yes, please,” I moan.

  “Good. Keep sucking that cock then. You’ll come on my big shaft and when I’m done, I’ll make sure you clean off every inch.” He pushes me down, sliding his cock into my throat, then pulls me back. I gasp before he kisses me, tongue in my mouth.

  He stands and pulls me to my feet. He turns me around, pushing me to the bench, bending me over. I gasp as he grabs my hips and slides himself deep inside of me in one easy thrust. I moan, throwing my head back. I must be so wet if he can slip inside me like it’s nothing.

  He fucks me, thick cock taking me. His hands tease my breasts, slap my ass, pull my hair. He controls me, dominates me. He takes every inch of my body. I lean back and move my hips, riding him, taking him deeper and deeper, the pleasure of the moment, the intensity of his cock, driving me wild.

  He pulls me up against him and teases my clit with his fingers, cock buried between my legs. “Anyone could find us here,” he whispers in my ear. “Do you like that? The excitement of almost getting caught?”

  “Yes,” I groan. “But I like you better.”

  He chuckles and puts a hand in my hair again. He thrusts hard, fucking me, making me moan, and keeps working my clit. We move like that, slow but firm, the pleasure mounting between my legs. “Just like that,” I moan. “Just like that. Keep doing that.”