Page 100 of Coach's Temptation

“Easy,” he coaches, placing his palm gently over my knee. “Gentle is the key. It’s a dance, Nat. Feel the rhythm.”

I roll my eyes dramatically.

“If this is dancing, I’m stepping on a lot of toes.” I glance nervously at him. “If I wreck this thing, your fan club in Iron Ridge is going to hunt me down.”

“Don’t worry,” Hunter teases, eyes glittering with amusement. “I’ll protect you.”

A few more jerky starts—and one near-collision with a garbage can—later, I finally manage a smooth glide onto the winding mountain road overlooking Iron Ridge.

Hunter’s hand never leaves my thigh, a steady, reassuring presence that floods me with confidence. When the Ferrari finally purrs beneath me, so effortlessly and smooth along the winding roads, I release a joyful laugh that echoes through the trees.

“Oh my god, I did it!”

"Of course you did it!"

The Ferrari hugs another curve as I settle into the rhythm of shifting gears. Hunter's hand remains steady on my thigh, grounding me in this perfect moment where I don't have to think about tomorrow or the next day, or about Team USA, about what happens after he wins the Cup for the Icehawks.

That's what this surprise is all about, isn't it? Distracting me and pretending like nothing is about to change.

Half an hour later, we park at a scenic pull-off high above town. The view overlooking Iron Ridge is incredible, the dark green treetops swaying in the golden sunlight.

I pull the Ferrari to a stop at a scenic overlook, the engine purring one last time before I kill it. The view of Iron Ridge is breathtaking, but my attention is fixed on Hunter beside me.

“Not bad for your first time handling a stick,” he quips, his grin as cocky as ever.

I roll my eyes, smirking. “It's no surprise really. I’m pretty good at handling sticks. You should know that by now.”

Hunter’s laugh is deep and he leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re more than good, Nat. You’re amazing.”

Before I can respond, his lips capture me in a kiss to knocks the breath out of me. It’s soft at first, but quickly turns hungry and demanding.

“Fuck, Nat,” he growls against my lips, his hand slipping beneath the soft fabric of my sundress.

His fingers skim my inner thigh, teasing slowly upwards until they find my wet pussy, stroking me through my thin panties. I gasp sharply, gripping his shoulders as he slides them aside, fingers circling my swollen clit. Pleasure pulses through me, and I moan into his mouth.

“Hunter…"

I moan into his mouth as his fingers move against me, teasing and stroking in a way that makes me forget everything else.

“God, you’re so wet,” he growls into the kiss.

I can’t form words; all I can do is arch into his touch, my hands fumbling with the button of his jeans. I manage to free him from the confines of denim and boxers, his hard length springing into my hand.

Hunter groans as I wrap my fingers around him, giving him a slow stroke.

“You gonna show me how well you handle this stick?” he teases, voice thick with lust, eyes blazing hot.

I lick my lips. “Absolutely, Coach.”

I position myself better in the seat and lean across the center as I kill the engine completely. With one hand on his thigh for balance, I lean forward, sliding my tongue across his swollen tip, tasting the salty pre-cum as he shudders beneath me.

My lips wrap around him, taking him deep into my mouth, working him with a rhythmic motion that makes him swear under his breath.

He guides me as I move up and down his length. “That’s it… just like that.”

His dirty words spur me on, and I suck harder, taking him deeper until he hits the back of my throat. His grip tightens in my hair as he bucks into my mouth. My eyes water, but I crave this, crave making him lose control.

“Oh god… Nat… fuck…”

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