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)
He moves close, kissing my neck until I’m gasping and melting into him.
“Tell you what,” he purrs into my ear. “You beat your best time and I’ll tease that pretty little pussy with my tongue until you scream.”
I whimper, panting as my hands run over his muscled chest.
“But… but all I have is a regular bikini?”
“That works.”
I frown. Hardly. Regulation competition suits are specifically designed to help with drag—to wick the water away from your body so you move faster and easier. Bikinis? Yeah, not so much.
“This is impossible.”
Camden shrugs. “You can skip it.”
“Really?”
“Sure.” He winks. “You just won’t get your reward.”
I groan, pouting at him. “What’s with the teacher of the year motivational crap?”
He laughs. “Pretty sure you give up on teacher of the year when you start sleeping with your student.”
I grin, blushing.
“So, what’s it going to be?”
I sigh. “No promises, but I’ll try. Hang on, be right back.”
I grab my bag and head for the locker room door, when his voice stops me.
“You know, it’s the weirdest thing. The locker rooms seem to be locked.”
I pause, a grin spreading over my face before I spin back to him.
“Oh really?”
He shrugs, grinning. “So bizarre, I know.”
“Even more since you’re the coach, and you definitely have keys for them.”
He sighs dramatically. “Must’ve changed the locks on me.”
“Uh-huh.”
He winks at me, and I blush as I drop the bag.
“Well, fine.”
I peel my t-shirt off, my skin tingling as I reach back and unhook my bra, dropping that as well. Camden just stands there, his eyes hungry and burning into me as he grins.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Immensely,” he growls.
I blush, biting my lip as I peel my yoga pants down, pausing for one second to look up at him, our eyes locking. And then I hook my thumbs into my panties and pull them down, kicking them away before I stand again, shivering under his gaze. I turn, feeling seductive and wild, I purposeful bend over at the hips to open my gym bag. And when I hear him groan behind me, my face burns hot, feeling his eyes devouring all of me. I tug on the red bikini bottoms and then slip the top on and tie it, turning to look at him again.
“Alright, let’s do this.”
He grins. “Let’s do a four-hundred meter, sprint pace.”
I groan. The four-hundred is my nemesis. For the record, four-hundred meters is a quarter mile, and in Winchester’s Olympic-sized pool, that’s eight lengths, back and forth, across the water. It’s a short enough of a distance where you aren’t pacing yourself like a sixteen-hundred or something longer, but long enough that at the end, you’re just physically done. But I set my mind and ready myself, and with one more look at Camden, I nod and head for the edge of the pool.
“Here.”
He tosses me a pair of goggles, which I catch before glancing at him, now next to the edge of the pool with me holding his stopwatch.
“You ready?”
“I have to beat my best four-hundred time?”
“Yep.”
I groan, blowing air through my lips and staring at the pool lane in front of me, when suddenly, I feel his arm slide around me. I gasp as he tugs me into him, and when his lips sear to mine, I moan. His hands hold me tight, and when one slips down my front to tease between my legs, I whimper. He growls into my mouth as his thick finger teases across my pussy through the bikini bottoms, before he pulls away, leaving me panting and trembling.
“Motivation,” he growls quietly.
“You’re the worst.”
He chuckles. “You’ve got this, Waverly. Ready?”
I swallow, and I nod.
“Ready.”
I turn back to the pool and adjust my goggles over my eyes before I take the diving stance.
“Go!”
I jump, plunging in, and then it’s just instinct that takes over. When I’m in the water, I don’t have to think, I just move. Muscle memory kicks in, and I drive forward, muscles pumping and pulse racing as I surge through the water. My fingers brush the far wall, and I flip and turn, shoving off the wall with my toes and plunging through the water again.
One lap turns into two, and then three, and four, and five, my muscles aching and my pulse burning like liquid fire in my veins. I’m aware of Camden yelling encouragement at me, cheering me on as I turn into the sixth lap. I can feel my lungs about to explode, my jaw clenched tight as I stroke my arms and kick my feet, plowing right ahead.
I turn in the seventh, and everything is getting blurry. But I keep going. Yeah, I’m motivated by Camden’s filthy promise, but I’m also motivated by something else.
…His belief in me. It’s the way he looks at me, and the way he spoke to me like “of course” I could beat my old record doing this in a non-competition suit. And that even by itself is the spark inside of me, fueling me as I just keep fucking going. Everything burns. Everything aches, and everything feels like it’s about to give up as I spin into the eighth and final lap.