Page 7 of Sexting the Coach
Young woman. New to the team. Found with me alone in my bedroom—just the thing we need.
The last Squid’s coach got himself fired because of a scandal like this. In a way, I’m grateful for it—the guy was kind of an ass, and it left an opening for them to offer me the position, instead.
But it also means HR has been up my ass—and, actually, everyone’s—to avoid any more legal gray areas. And having this girl—aMontgomery, nonetheless—alone in my room with me, is definitely not the up-and-up they’re hoping for.
“Listen,” I start, trying to harden my voice, trying to cover up the way her presence is affecting me. “I?—”
But she’s still talking, her eyes drifting down to my hip, now covered by my shorts again. “Is it bruised? It could be something serious?—”
Then, in a moment that seems to stretch time, she reaches forward, her fingers grazing against the bare skin of my hip, then over the waistband of my shorts.
I want to grab her wrist, yank her into me. Get her shirt off and over her head, like a trade.
She got to see me topless, so it would only be fair for us to make it even. In fact, I should get to touch my fingers to her skin, too.
No—I should grab her wrist, push her back, tell her to get the hell out of here before I do something I regret. Tell her nothing. Just tell her to get lost without showing her how much her presence is affecting me.
But, in the end, I don’t end up grabbing her at all. I hold myself perfectly still, my voice coming out as little more than a growl. “Get the hell out of here, Montgomery.”
“R-right,” she stutters, pulling her hand back, apparently just as affected as I am by that jolt of contact. She takes one step, then another, backing up out of the room with a grace that many people couldn’t achieve walking forwards.
Then, the door shuts behind her.
And I’m left standing in the center of the room.
Half-naked and fully, completely hard.
Chapter 3
Elsie
“Alright,” Mabel says, stepping out of the little bathroom in our cabin and dropping her toiletry bag on her bed. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“Me?” I ask, my voice coming out squeaky, eyes rising up to find hers a little too quickly. Stupid,stupid—of courseme,and there’s nothing in my reaction that’s going to convince her there’s not something going on with me.
“Yes,” she deadpans, dropping down to sit on the edge of her bed. “You.”
It’s late, and despite my best efforts to put Weston out of my head and focus on everything else—arts and crafts with the other people on the PT team, dinner in the huge lodge, marshmallows and s’mores around a campfire, that one player who insisted on bringing a guitar and was actually pretty good at playing it—I have not been successful.
My thoughts are two-part.
First, I can’t stop thinking about the little flash of the bruise, peeking up over the waistband of his shorts. The barely-concealed, twisted pain on his face. That slight wrinkle to his brow, the tightness around his mouth. He’s a man accustomed to hiding that pain.
And maybe he’s even used to nobody else noticing it.
The second part of the thought is worse.
Because it’s the part that can’t stop thinking about. The slope of his body, the line from his abs down to his hip, that little dip of skin visible from where he’d pulled his waistband down.
Toned, tanned, like a swimsuit model. Like the men in black and white underwear advertising campaigns. He might as well have had his t-shirt between his teeth or something.
When I walked into his room, it felt like I’d been caught doing something wrong, even though he was obviously the one trying to hide the fact that he was hurt.
“Elsie, hello?” Mabel says, waving her hand in front of my face, and I blink at her, then open my mouth to tell her the truth, but for some reason, the words just don’t come out.
Mabel and I have been tight since the first year of college, being roommates and going through the same classes and programs together. I’ve told her everything—from my embarrassing crushes, to when I tried a menstrual cup for the first time and couldn’t get it out. She and Hattie gloved right up, not even batting an eye.
We tell each other everything. But right now, I can’t tell her about this.
