Page 51 of Dirty Pucking Player

“I’ve missed you, Coach.”

Fuck.

The way my stomach flips with his words also makes me wince.

Does he mean it?

Is this just a game?

I haven’t said a damn word, and I can’t retreat any farther or leave—the bed is behind me and Bash directly in front—I’m caged in. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide from this man who has already broken me down and gotten under my skin in a way I never knew anyone ever could.

His assessing gaze scans me from head to toe.

Say something, Greer!

“Oh”—I clear my throat—“you did?”

He nods, and his focus zeroes in on my lips. “Sure did.”

Then why didn’t you call or text?

The question hangs on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back because I don’t want to look like that girl, the one who needs a man to call her the morning after. Especially when I’m the one who bolted from his room while he was asleep.

That was sheer panic, but I need to make it seem like I was just trying to keep things light.

I can do casual. I can do casual with Bash.

I think.

He closes the distance between us and wraps one arm around my back while the other cups my cheek. “I was trying to give you a little time and space, Coach. To think about what happened and to figure out how you felt about the situation.”

“Oh.” My response comes out breathy and needy, not at all the strong, confident woman I had hoped I would sound like when I finally came to face to face with him again.

“Oh?” He raises a brow at me and grazes his thumb over my bottom lip. “That’s the only response I get? Oh?”

I suck in a sharp breath and shrug. “I’m not sure how else to answer that.”

He leans in until his lips are a mere hairsbreadth from mine. “How about you tell me you’ve been thinking about me, too? That you’ve been fantasizing every waking moment about what it felt like to be with me. What it felt like when my cock was pounding into you. How it felt when my tongue was deep in your pussy.”

Christ.

My clit throbs. My legs tremble. I wobble, but his strong arm around my waist holds me steady.

His lips barely feather across mine. “Why don’t you tell me that, Coach?”

“I…I can’t.”

Long, strong fingers tighten on my hip. “Why not?”

Because admitting that would give him all the power.

I can’t do that. Power is like gold to a man like Bash. And he already has far too much over me. I’ve somehow let him take charge of this situation, and that could be lethal for everything I’ve worked so damn hard to achieve.

Another gentle brush of his lips sends a rolling shudder through me.

“Come on, Coach. Do it. You’ll feel so much better after you do.”

His hand drops from my back down to my ass and squeezes firmly. His fingers slowly inch their way around until they find the hem of my skirt.

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