Page 21 of Coach
As if to emphasize his point, there was a siren ringing off in the distance. Then another.
“Sorry your party devolved into a toolbox tour and a metal box prison.”
“Hey, I thoroughly enjoyed the toolbox tour. And—” I drifted off at Coach’s sudden labored breathing. “Are you okay?”
“You know your thing with the dark?”
“Yeah.”
“I have a little touch of that with small spaces for long periods of time.”
“Oh.Oh. Okay. Um… how’s this?” I asked, moving closer and lifting both my arms so I could start massaging his scalp. I took a moment to notice the silky softness of his hair. Just then, though, he sucked in a deep breath, expanding his chest enough to make me realize I had pressed pretty tightly against him to be able to reach up toward his head.
When I sucked in a breath as well, my breasts crushed to his chest, and there was no stopping the little shiver that racked my system.
I was close enough to hear the sexy little rumble that moved through Coach’s chest and out between his lips.
Really, it was all feelings right then. Not a single coherent thought crossed my mind.
My hands shifted down to frame his face.
His arm slid around my lower back, pinning my soft curves to his hard lines.
Then I went up on my tiptoes and found his lips in the dark—soft and slow at first.
His arm tightened around me as mine went around the back of his neck.
I moaned against his lips, and his other hand went up behind my head, slipping into my hair, giving it a little tug until I angled back.
He took charge then, angling just right to drag a moan from the back of my throat.
At the sound, Coach stepped forward, pressing me back against the wall as the kiss tipped—harder, deeper, rougher, lips dragging, tongues tangling.
“Coach,” I whimpered, fingers digging into his arms.
“Saul,” he murmured, his lips finding the shell of my ear. “Call me Saul when you’re moaning for me.”
Another shiver coursed through me as his hand glided down my side and his teeth nipped my earlobe.
“Saul,” I whimpered.
It was pure need that had me reaching down, had me grabbing his wrist, then slipping his hand from my hip downward, inward.
“Please,” I added, breath a soft sigh.
That deep rumble moved through him again as his hand slipped up under my skirt. His fingers teased up my inner thigh, and my legs parted shamelessly for him.
Each touch had fires igniting across the surface of my skin, then burning deeper.
My breath was caught, my chest tight.
His hand pressed between my thighs, and my moan mingled with his groan at finding me already needy for him.
His fingers rocked across the material of my panties, lightly teasing my clit as his lips claimed mine again.
Harder.
Hungrier.
