Page 123 of The Coach

“Take it off.”

My breath catches.

Slowly, I reach up.

I slide the straps down my arms, teasing myself as much as him, my nipples tightening from the cool air and his heated gaze.

The second my bra falls to the floor, Jackson curses under his breath, his jaw clenching so hard it could shatter. His gaze darkens, pure hunger, pure possession, pure fucking need.

He palms my breasts, his big hands rough and warm, his thumbs flicking over my aching peaks.

I let out a shaky breath. I feel so fucking wanted.

So devoured. So worshipped.

Jackson smirks against my skin. “That’s my good girl.”

And then—he drops to his knees.

Oh.

Oh my God.

He pulls my panties down to the floor. Then his hands grip my thighs, spreading me open, his breath hot against my skin.

He presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss against the inside of my thigh while his big hands wrap around, squeezing my ass, then the next, teasing, tormenting, making me whimper.

I grip his hair, dizzy with pleasure.

“Patience.” He presses another slow, torturous kiss against my core.

I cry out, my forehead hitting the glass, the cold surface a contrast to the heat licking through my veins.

Jackson groans against me, his mouth relentless, licking, sucking, teasing until I’m right on the edge.

And then he makes me watch.

He grips my chin and tilts my face so I see our reflection in the window.

“Look at you, baby. So fucking pretty when you fall apart for me. I want you to watch, too.”

My body shatters—trembling, arching, gasping his name, as pleasure crashes over me.

Jackson doesn’t let up. Not even a little.

He rises to his feet, flips me around, pressing me against the glass, and drags his zipper down.

Oh my god.

I can see his hard length reflected in the window, right next to me in my stilettos.

Thick. Hard as steel.

When I feel the heat of him pressing against me, teasing me, dragging along my soaked entrance, I whimper.

Jackson groans, gripping my hips, spreading me wider. His chest presses against my back, pinning me tight against the cold glass.

“You think you can just take me out like that on the road?” he rasps, voice thick with hunger.

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