Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Leaving me twisted up, tangled up, wound up, and so wet it’s practically dripping down my thighs.
…This is going to be a problem.
4
Camden
I’m standing leaning against the side of the bleachers by the pool in my swim trunks and a t-shirt, when the locker room doors open, and my teams start to filter in. I nod to a few students, trying to be normal. But it’s almost impossible after what’s happened. And when she finally walks out, I look up, and our eyes just fucking lock.
Shit.
Instantly, I know pretending to be indifferent, or trying to play it cool, is going to be so much fucking harder than I told myself it would before I came in today. Because instantly, all I want to do is pounce on her. All I want to do is pin her to the wall, yank that skin-tight suit to the side, and just fucking take her right here. I want to plunge my cock into that sweet little cunt and feel her nails raking my back as I make her mine.
My jaw is locked tight, my eyes burning fiercely right into hers as she blushes. She bites her lip as she moves to the side with Brynn Henley and sits on the mats to start stretching and warming up, and fuck is it taking everything I have not to let my cock tent the front of my shorts.
For a while, I’m distracted with the boys’ team. The girls’ team is fucking solid this year, mostly due to Waverly being a fucking super-star, of course, but also because of swimmers like her friends Brynn and Sasha VanCortland. I have the girls team run through some conditioning, but the guys get my wrath as I bark at them through drills, trying to hone them into what I know they can be.
And yet, the whole damn time, I’m shooting looks her way, trying not to fucking stare, but probably failing. I groan inside as I watch her pull herself from the pool, water dripping down her toned body and that mouthwatering ass yanking every ounce of my attention as I grind my teeth and clench my hands into fists.
At one point, she glances over at me, and when I see the heat in her eyes, a pulse of raw hunger throbs through me.
I’m pulled away again with more drills on the guys team, but when I finally take myself away from it and glance back over to the other side of the pool, my eyes narrow.
What the fuck is this.
“This” is Ian Cavanaugh getting way too close to Waverly—grinning at her, nodding his smug little aristocratic chin at her, and shamelessly letting his eyes drag all over her fucking body. He’s standing there fucking flexing, too, like the little arrogant shit that he is as he says something to make her giggle and blush.
I want to bury him.
The sane part of me tells me to just fucking leave it, for a million reasons. That she’s a student, and that I’m her coach. That she’s not mine, and that it’s perfectly natural for a guy her age to see how gorgeous she is and try and flirt with her. But watching it has me past the breaking point and has the savage inside of me roaring as I drop everything and storm across the side of the pool towards them.
“Ian,” I snap as I thunder over to the two of them. He jumps a little, startled by my voice, but he turns and just flashes me that same arrogant, old-money smirk that so many of the students at a school like Winchester have.
“Hey, Coach,” he grins. “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” I growl, my eyes narrowing. “What’s up is that your hundred-meter time was fucking garbage at the last meet, and you’re over here playing grab-ass instead of putting in the fucking work.”
Waverly’s jaw drops at the way I just chew the little shit out, and even Ian looks surprised. I can be tough on my team, because I know from my own training how hard you need to push to be the best. But I’m never an asshole to them. Right now, I’m letting the asshole out, in force, on Ian.
“Coach, I just—”
“You’re just over here distracting the best swimmer on my team is what you’re doing,” I snap. “Now get your ass in the pool and work on that fucking butterfly stroke or I’ll bench your ass next meet.”
The smug little grin falls from his prickish face.
“Whoa, Coach, I—”
“Now, Mr. Cavanaugh,” I hiss.
He nods, not even shooting Waverly another look before he scampers past me over to the rest of the guys’ team. I watch him run off, a triumphant grin on my face as I turn back to her.
“What the fuck was that?” She hisses.
My smile fades as I frown.