Page 5 of Trainer

“What do you think I am, Nat? Some kind of slutbag hoe or something?”

“Slutbag hoe!?” she laughed. “Yes, Cady, that’s what I think. You, the girl who’s been on one date since I’ve known you and hasn’t even had sex yet, despite the fact that you’re twenty years old, are a slutbag hoe!”

“Okay, exactly!” I replied. “Why would you think that I’d just have sex with him then?”

“Because he’s Chase Brenton,” she said, as though that was all there was to it. “Just let him knock you up and collect child support for the rest of your life!”

“I’m going to throw up,” I told her.

“I’m just kidding!” she laughed. “Sort of. But tell me the details. He’s hot, right? How’s his…game?”

“Tennis or otherwise?” I smiled. I couldn’t help myself. Tennis just lent itself to all sorts of puns.

“Fuck his tennis game!” Natasha laughed. “Unless you’re talking about…his racket.”

“Okay, you need to leave me alone now,” I told her, pushing her out of the doorway. “I am a sweaty mess and need a shower.”

“Oh, I bet you are,” Natasha winked before I closed the door in her face. She shouted at me from the other side. “I’ll make sure to tell him you’ll be coming over later when he calls!”

“Don’t touch my phone, bitch!” I shouted back.

I turned the water on before taking off my clothes. We were lucky enough to have an apartment off the NYU campus, but the water took forever to get warm. I stared at myself in the mirror. My cheeks were really red, and Natasha was right; it wasn’t because I’d been playing tennis.

Chase Brenton.

He was devastatingly handsome. I sure wasn’t going to deny that. And I’d been this close to just letting him take me in the shower, but the good girl in me had taken over and stopped me.

Working at the club was my only real source of income, and it was a highly sought-after job. The people I met there could lead to coaching gigs when I finished school. My clients would be the upper crust of society and would pay well. I couldn’t risk throwing away my future because of some gorgeous rich guy with a killer smile and a pretty decent backhand.

Besides, what was I going to get out of throwing away my virginity to a guy like Chase? Five minutes of mind-blowing sex in the shower and then never hearing from him again? Guys like him had countless girls lined up, thinking they were going to be the next Mrs. Brenton. And then the next thing they knew, they were in an Uber on their way back home, never to be seen again.

No. Not me.

I’d keep my dick in my pants (metaphorically) and his in his and focus on the game—the tennis game.

But now that I was home by myself and the water was warm, it couldn’t hurt to indulge in a little fantasy…

I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes, picturing Chase’s handsome face and intent eyes fixed on me.

I took a breath and felt his lips against my skin…and his strong hand as it found my leg and moved up.

Of course I wasn’t wearing any panties today. It hadn’t been intentional; it was laundry day, for crying out loud! Every girl who plays tennis knows that going commando is a big risk when you’re wearing a skirt, but it hadn’t been windy and I figured I wouldn’t be doing any outrageous maneuvers so I was safe and didn’t have to worry about flashing him…

…little did I know he’d have his hand up my skirt.

I reached down between my legs, remembering what his touch had felt like and just how close I’d been to giving myself over to him.

People always say your first time should be “special.” Well, what could be more special than losing your v-card to a billionaire in the locker room shower of an exclusive Long Island country club?

You’d think I’d have had some experience with boys by now, having spent most of my life playing sports and being surrounded by jocks, but for some reason I’d always been shy and more focused on practice than having a real social life.

There wasn’t any particular reason for it; my mom just said I was born shy and a bit introverted. If I wasn’t practicing or doing my homework, I was curled up in bed with a book or taking pictures with my dad’s old film camera.

In fact, kissing Chase had been my first kiss in three years—my last being my high school “boyfriend” Jim, who’d been doing his best to sweet talk me into giving him a blowjob in the back of his Mustang.

I hadn’t given myself to Chase, and I wouldn’t, but it didn’t hurt to fantasize, did it?

Would he have taken me right there in the shower? With the water on or off? I’d imagine he’d have turned the water on so it would mask any…sounds of what was going on, just in case anyone walked in on us.

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