Page 37 of Not My Coach

“You, Nate, only you,” I cry out as a universe-shattering orgasm threatens to destroy me.

“Not yet, baby,” he orders and squeezes my ass harder, pinching me.

“Nate, I can’t do this. I can’t hold it any longer,” I pant and whimper helplessly as my vision spots. “Please, please, please.”

He licks my neck, base to top, and kisses my cheek before gritting out, “Come for me, sweetheart. Give me everything you’ve got.”

My body explodes, pleasure erupting everywhere, and I wonder if I’ll ever come down from this high.

My legs shake in his arms as I moan his name, crying out in bliss.

“Oh fuck, Evie. Your pussy is squeezing me so good. I’m going to come,” he moans before grunting in my ear and slamming into me.

Oh shit, he’s coming inside me this time.

He continues to groan and growl as he fucks his cum into me and starts to come down from the euphoria we both experienced.

“Fuck, Evie, you make me crazy …” He trails off and rests his forehead against mine as he lowers me onto my quivering legs.

“I want you to remember this night. The one where I decide that no other man is ever going to touch you again unless it’s me.” He reaches between my legs and swirls it, mixing our cum together and pushing it back inside my sore pussy. “Keep every drop in there, baby.”

Pulling his fingers away, he sucks them into his mouth and hums, “Mmm, we taste perfect together.”

“You mean that, Nate? No one else can touch me, except you?” I repeat his words to him, wanting each one to be true.

My heart races. In the last two weeks, I have realized that it’s not just fun with Nate. I want more. I want him.

“Lift your heel,” he orders, ignoring my questions.

I lift my foot up, and he slides my thong onto one leg, and then we repeat the same for the other side. He shimmies them up my legs and secures them in place, trapping his cum inside me. It’s fucking hot to be wanted like this.

I hope he’s finally accepting that we are inevitable, that we will always end up coming back to one another, like we did tonight.

He lightly grabs my throat and tugs me forward, kissing me tenderly, gently, like what’s happening between us means more to him too. “You’re mine, Evie. It’s that simple. No one touches what’s mine.”

I kiss him back as my heart jumps out of my chest and falls right into his hands. “I’m yours.”

He leads the way out of the locker room, and he tells me to go into the restroom and exit out the other door while he heads back to the tunnel. I follow his instructions, wanting to do my best at maintaining our secret.

I freshen up in the restroom, clean up my hair and makeup, and return to my seat without anyone batting an eye.

I love my family, but they can occasionally have tunnel vision for their perfect son, Brett. Usually, that would piss me off, but right now, I’m so happy to not be the center of attention.

Dessert is served, and I keep to myself, aside from Jared, Jensen Donnelley’s little brother, showing me pictures of him and his girlfriend, which are adorable.

I catch Nate’s burning stare more than once, and I text him to be careful if he doesn’t want the entire room to catch him eye-humping me. He shrugs while reading the message, then stows his phone and gets back to kissing the donors asses. I know he cares, and, hell, I have no idea what the rules are when it comes to something like this.

There is no risk on my end, but I know there’s a lot on his. If someone were to find out, he might lose his job, and I know how much he loves it. I can see it in how he talks to the players and the genuine happiness in his smile when he talks about it. I will do whatever I can to help him keep that job and keep me. And, God, I want to be kept so badly by Nathaniel Carrington.

The rest of the night goes smoothly and much more relaxing after we cut the tension between us. The Nighthawks raised a ton of money for breast cancer research.

Everyone is happy and smiling, just as they should be. I find Nate once more across the room, smiling at him before walking out with my parents to their car.

They can’t stop gushing about how incredible the event was the whole drive to my apartment, and that is fine by me. It keeps me from telling them my favorite part of the night.

After short good-byes, I walk into the house, shutting and locking the door behind me.

My phone starts ringing immediately after I kick my heels off.

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