Page 9 of De Vil

“Why? You could have gotten hurt if she couldn’t spot you.”

She steps closer into my personal space and my back hits the door. “Like you really care.”

Her steps falter and her eyes widen. “What does that mean, Tia?”

This shit is getting too close to home, now. I have to shut this down before she learns how I feel about being needed and wanted. “Forget it, Coach. Are we done here?”

My hand shakes as I reach behind me to grab onto the door.

“No, princess, we aren’t.” Coach reaches behind me and takes my hand. She locks the door and takes my face in her other hand. “We still need to discuss your attitude.”

I'm quaking in my skin with so many emotions. I’m not sure what to think about it.Coach let’s go of my face but keeps a firm grasp on my hand. She guides me to the back of her office and sets me down on the couch next to her.

“My assistant coach will handle the rest of the practice.”

I should release Tia and let her go back to practice, but that’s not what I want to do. No, I’m enjoying seeing her squirm with conflicted emotions running rampantly along her face. It turns me on to see that confusion.

Her left foot bounces on the floor as I move in closer to her. “Being a smartass won’t get you far here, do you understand me? It’s important that you are a team player.”

Tia rolls her eyes at me. “No shit, Coach.”

Without thinking, I slap her thigh and grip her neck. My entire being lights up at the power of having her life in my hands. I force her back against the cushions. Tia’s eyes widen in shock as I loom over her.

“It looks like you need a lot of practice with your manners, princess.” My senses are overloaded as I lick her cheek and she pushes against my arms.

“Let me go,” she whispers, but not before her hips lift off the couch and she seeks my hand as I run it down her front.

“Why? So, you can act like a brat?” I wink at her. “I think you rather like me touching you, Tia.”

“No.”

Her words say one thing, but her body is primed for me to take. I kiss along her neck and she moans. Nibbling along her pulse, she arches into me as I run my hands along her front.

“Coach.” She moans loudly.

Laughing, I move away from her. As Tia gets up, she is shaking. “I thought you didn’t like to be touched, princess?”

She gets off the couch and puts distance between us. “Don’t do that again.” Her demand has no conviction to it.

“Then I suggest you get in line, and do as I tell you when it comes to the court.” I stand up and unlock the door to my office.

“Got it,” she mumbles and walks out.

I expect her to go to the dean of education and for me to be fired for what just happened.

When I get out on the court, the assistant coach and the girls that aren’t playing are watching the field with intense curiosity. I turn toward the other side of the court, and I see Tia. She’s controlling the court and ball like a professional. I realize it’s not curiosity, but admiration.

This is exactly why I didn’t want her on the court the first half of practice. Everyone would be intimidated or feel inferior to Tia's skills. The opponent side isn’t ready for Tia’s spike, and the ball hits within the score line.

“Game point.”

All the girls rush over to talk to Tia, and I can see the envy and jealousy flowing from the opposing side. Fuck, this is going to be a long season.

* * *

It’s been a week, and I haven’t been turned in. I have, however, become a Goddamn stalker. It’s four in the afternoon, and I’m standing two rows over from where Tia is, picking out some fruits and vegetables.

I’ve learned her schedule in and out. She has classes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I have her for the second period of the day and then in the gym every day. Did I send her an email telling her she was required to work out with me every day, twice a day? Yes. Yes, I did.

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