Page 7 of Not My Coach

He caresses my ankle again, and it pulls my gaze back to his. “I wasn’t finished. If I get the chance to fuck you, I’m making sure it’s in private, where every sound you make belongs to my ears and my ears only.”

Fuck.

“I’m not usually this forward, believe it or not, but I would love nothing more than to fulfill that fantasy tonight,” I say, enunciating every honest word.

He laughs and says, “That makes two of us then. I’ve never done anything like this.”

Quizzically, I ask him, “Take over someone’s date? Or take over that date, then fuck her senseless?”

His cheeks redden, and I love that I’m the reason.

“Both. But mainly, I’ve never had a one-night stand.”

My jaw falls. “Seriously? You? With all that going on, you’ve never had a one-night stand?”

Genuinely, I’m in shock. Because I know that girls and guys have to throw themselves at him. He’s fucking hot. Not the kind of hot that just makes you turn your head, but the kind that imprints into your vision. The kind you think about for days. And it’s not just in his appearance; it’s how he carries himself, how he speaks, and how he acts.

He shakes his head with a shy smirk that has me feeling obnoxiously giddy. “I have not, no.”

Resting my hand over my heart, I proudly say, “I am honored to take your one-night-stand virginity, Nate.”

Am I really doing this? This is insane.

At the same time, it has never felt more freeing. I’m not usually one to let my emotions control my actions. Control and discipline guide my life—at least, they did until the moment I agreed to this.

Like she said, sex with no strings. We can let ourselves completely come out to play without holding back because we’ll never have to see each other again after this. Fuck if I’m not dying to play with her.

That restraint that I practice in life also applied to my marriage. My ex-wife had very simple tastes when it came to the bedroom, and that was fine. But there is a side of me that I’ve kept to myself all these years, desires that I’ve kept at bay. Maybe tonight, I could let them out to indulge in, just once.

The waiter walks by, and I stick my hand up politely. “Excuse me. Can I get the check?”

“Yeah. All together?” he asks hesitantly.

Evie’s eyes start to widen, but before she can even form a thought, I’m already answering, “Yes, together. Thank you.”

Handing him my card, I give Evie my full attention. “What are you most comfortable with? Your territory, mine, or a neutral ground? Although, if my opinion matters, option three sounds less than pleasing to me.”

“I would offer to go back to my place, but my brother is currently drunk off his ass with his friend. Apparently, they partied a little too hard tonight, and my apartment is right by the bar they frequent. I don’t particularly want to go to a hotel. I think I would feel a bit like an escort.” She laughs.

“We can go to mine. Did you drive here?” I ask her, and she nods.

She bites that full bottom lip, and my dick twitches again. Her mouth is so pretty. I wonder if she would struggle to take my entire cock down her throat.

“I drove. I can follow you?” she offers, and her almond-shaped cerulean-blue eyes drop to my lips.

Fucking hell.

She softly yips, and I realize that I accidentally pinched her ankle. But she doesn’t pull away or even look mildly uncomfortable.

If anything, those ocean eyes of her are storming with arousal.

“Y-yes, that works great,” I concur as the waiter returns with my card and receipt.

I leave a very large tip and tuck my card back inside of my wallet, sliding it into the pocket of my coat.

She starts to sit up, but I grab on to her foot, and she freezes as I lock eyes with her.

“For the rest of tonight, you’ll be treated exactly as you deserve. You will not walk through a door unless I am holding it open. You will not do anything for yourself that I am capable of doing for you. Including pulling your chair out for you. Am I clear?” My voice is serious, and I try to rein in the coach-tone a bit.

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