Page 39 of Leave Me Broken

What is there to say? It’s true. Our whole childhood her sister bullied me, and when she got sent away, Alyssa took over like it was a position that needed filled. Their bullying hardly affected me because of what was happening at home, but they sure tried. When they weren’t coming after me, they were going after my best friend. Never Ronni, always Janelle.

Now they know what is important to me: volleyball and Ash, and they are going after both. “Just leave. Me. Alone. If we ever talk again, it’ll be too soon.”

I drop my eyes to my team behind her waiting to get on the bus, meeting a sharp gray set of eyes last. He dips his head as if approving of my words. I don’t need his approval but it’s nice he finally seems to see how big of an issue Alyssa is. I was shocked when he announced that she would sit the bench the rest of season or “until she proved to be a team player.” Well, she never has before, I don’t see it happening now. “Actions have consequences and no one on my team is exempt from them.” Alyssa’s head was bowed the whole time, so it was obvious her suspension wasn’t news to her. I thought Janelle’s jaw was going to drop to the floor though.

I fall into my seat in the back of the bus. We are such a small team, we each get a seat to ourselves. We have to stop and eat but then I plan on curling up with the blanket I packed and napping. My sleep has been shit without volleyball wearing me out.

I’ve thought about texting Ash to come over so he could lie on top of me and I could actually get some sleep, but I can’t do that for many reasons.

“I’m proud of you,” Ash mutters from his seat behind me.

I wish I could tell him how those words make me feel. How my throat grows tight and my skin prickles. I can’t put that into words, so I just say a basic “Thank you” instead.

The driver pulls away from the curb once everyone is seated. I didn’t think about the fact he probably saw and heard everything with Alyssa—shit, I hope he doesn’t tell my grandpa I was cussing, I know he goes to his church.

“Listen up,” Ash announces in his coaching voice. I jump in my seat, not expecting to hear his voice so loud. On the way here, he spoke softly in my ear. “Week of Pink is soon, and as you know, it is in California.” The bus fills with cheers. “Yes, very exciting.” He doesn’t look or sound excited at all. “But it requires money. The tickets have already been purchased, thanks to an anonymous sponsor—but we need hotel fee, food, and we need to pay for the bus that will shuttle us to and from the gym. Meaning, we need a fundraiser.” Ash places a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Your captain was responsible for coming up with an idea, but I did not like her ideas.

“No offense,” he adds after my team stops laughing at me. “I have come up with an idea and have already made the preparations so, even if you are not a fan of my idea, I do not care.”

“What is it?” Janelle blurts.

Ash thins his lips like he always does when it comes to Janelle. Like a worn-out parent. “Well, with the help of Janelle’s mum, Mrs. Wick”—when I look at Janelle, she shrugs obviously having no idea about this—“and her being good friends with the owner of an up-and-coming clothing boutique downtown, she asked if my girls would be interested in a fashion show. All eight of you will be participating because it was too late to tell her I only have seven girls flying to California.”

Excited murmurs fill the bus and Ash explains that we will model her clothing and the audience will be bidding on the outfits. We will get half of whatever the outfits sell for. Apparently, the up-and-coming boutique is known for having expensive clothing so we should make good money. The issue is—it’s a fucking fashion show. I play volleyball and wear sweatpants as much as I can. My body is not meant for expensive clothing. I’m not like Janelle, Ronni, or Alyssa—or actually anyone else on my team. They are all tall and thin and I’m . . . not.

“What the hell were you thinking when you agreed to that?”

Ash looks down at me as we walk off the bus to head to Pizza Hut. His eyebrows furrow like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about, but he’s fully aware what I’m talking about, he’s just being his usual Ash-hole self.

“Ashley,” I hiss. “You shot down my ideas for a-a freaking fashion show?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m not doing it.” I cross my arms over my chest.

Ash spins and pins me against the side of the bus. A hand on my hip and the other gripping my hair. He smashes his mouth into mine, and my head slams against his hand and into the bus. He licks and nips at my lips, not letting me breathe until my head is spinning.

“You do not get a choice. You are a part of my team, and my team is walking.” His tongue is hot against my lips, making the cold air even colder when he pulls back. “Understand?”

I’m still catching my breath but grab each side of his windbreaker and pull his warm body back against me. “If I say no, do I get more of that, Coach?”

My center throbs when he pushes his hips against my stomach and the rigid length of his cock presses into me.

“If you walk in the show, you can get whatever you want, babygirl.”

I sink my hands into his soft hair and pull his face back down to mine. “Anything?”

He lets out a groan-moan mixture when I drag my tongue across his bottom lip.

“Anything.” His voice is strained. I love that I affect Ash as much as he affects me. It makes me feel so powerful that I have this giant of a man wrapped around my finger. If I asked him to get on his knees and lick my pussy right here . . . I bet he would. I’m so tempted when his tongue swipes across his bottom lip and the sparkle of the silver ball in his mouth grabs my attention.

“I want you to eat my pussy.”

His gray eyes blaze with need. “Now?” He removes his eyes only for a second to look around. We are on the opposite side of the bus so we are hidden from the eyes of the restaurant, and behind Ash is a thick line of trees. He probably could eat me out right here, but I shake my head. “After the show. Like an award. I walk the show and you eat me out after.” It’s so cold you can see our heavy breaths but neither of us are in a rush. I trail my finger down his neck and over the patch with the team logo on his pec reading the word COACH under it. “Maybe I can tell my grandpa I’m staying at Janelle’s but go home with you, and I can spend all night returning the favor.” My hand drifts south over the belt on his black slacks and down the length of him. He’s so hard. “What do you say, Coach?”

He blows out a hard breath. “I say you are in for a long bloody night with everything I have planned for you.”

I whimper against his mouth and hot liquid pools between my legs. I’m not wearing underwear and it slides down my thigh. “Maybe I can just come over tonight?” It’s a school night but I’m so desperate, I’d rather go to school on no sleep than have to wait. I grab his hand and lead him into my pants.

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