by Madison Faye
I’m in serious fucking trouble.
3
Waverly
“Hi honey, how was practice?”
I hear the words, but I don’t really hear them. Not with the thunder still roaring in my ears and my pulse still skipping a mile a minute, just like it’s been the entire drive back from campus. Just like it’s been since the second I stepped into his office.
I drop my bag in the mud room off the kitchen and shuffle to the fridge.
“Um, hello? Earth to Waverly?”
I blink, turning and smiling at my mom.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
She just smiles. “Long day?”
You could say that.
“Yeah.”
“Tough practice too, I take it?”
I just raise my brows, nodding as I turn to the fridge and grab a lime and peach seltzer water.
“That Coach Kirby,” my mom whistles. “He’s good, but man is he hard.”
…Take a wild guess what instantly pops into my head. What pictures, that are in my phone in my sweatshirt pocket this very moment, pop into my head.
“Yeah, he’s…” I blush, shrugging.
My mom sighs.
“I mean, I know he has to be, but I worry that he’s on you too much, you know?”
I cringe.
“You know, that he might be riding you too hard?”
The worlds most x-rated thoughts dance through my head as I blush furiously and quickly take a gulp of lime and peach.
“He’s, uh…” I shrug again, swallowing the heat from my face or at least hoping I am before I turn back. “He’s fine. It was just a long day.”
She blows air through her lips. “Tell me about it.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just this whole thing with…” her mouth snaps shut, and she frowns. “Just with Miss Hayes leaving so abruptly. I’m not thrilled with her replacement.”
Miss Hayes—Emily—was our art professor at Winchester up until a few weeks ago, when she suddenly got a job offer in Chicago and just sort of bounced. Of course, the gossipy high school rumor mill had a blast with the fact that Ethan Scott—one of Winchester’s resident bad boy students—also left Winchester, also abruptly, also, at around the same time, and also to head to Chicago. I mean, it’d be pretty scandalous if the rumors were true, but I’m pretty sure it really is just that she got a job offer and he was bored with school, tested out, and got into the Art Institute of Chicago.
“Anyways, I don’t really feel like cooking tonight. How do you feel about Greek delivery?”
“Great.”
Mom smiles. “Perfect. I’ll order in a little bit.”
I turn to head upstairs and start in on tackling homework when she stops me.
“Oh, I forgot to ask! How’d the project go last night!”
I cringe, thankful that I’m not facing her as my cheeks turn pink. I may have told my mom that I was going to Brynn’s room back at the dorms to finish a project for our English Lit class. I actually hate lying to her, and I never really do. But what was I going to say? Hey, I’m on my way to a dive bar dressed like a slut to get fucked by my swim coach who thinks I’m a stranger?
…Yeah, I could see that going over well.
“It, uh…” I clear my throat. “Yeah, fine.”
Mom laughs. “Alright grumpy. I can tell practice wore you out. See you in an hour or so for food?”
“Sounds good!”
I bolt up the stairs, pulse still ringing in my ears and thoughts of Camden Kirby still throbbing through my head until I fall into my room and lock the door behind me.
This is not good.
I honestly have no idea what my plan really was. I guess in my fantasy, he’d realize it was me and then tell me how much he’s wanted me and how he can’t wait to be my first? Or… something?
I cringe a little at how ill-planned my “plan” was, but at the same time, there’s a fire inside of me, and today has only stoked it hotter and fiercer. My mind wanders back to his office, to the way he just grabbed me—how he manhandled me against the door and pinned me there, inches away from me. I think back on how I sassed him and acted like this petulant little brat, even if it was just to cover the fact that barely below the surface, all I had was this aching, heated, utterly consuming need for him. Because the way my body reacts to even thinking about Camden is something even bigger than lust. It’s hotter than sin.
It’s wild, and I don’t honestly know if I can contain it anymore.
I shiver, and before I know it, I’m moving towards my bed and falling back across it. My legs fall open, my skirt tumbles to my waist, and I whimper as my fingers slide down my bare thighs. My eyes close, and now, I’m not in my room. I’m… well, wherever he’d want me. His car, the bar bathroom. The fucking alley behind the bar.
Because all I know is the raw, pulsing want for him.
My fingers tease over my panties, and I moan softly as I feel the slick heat seeping into them. My skin feels like it’s electric, my body tingling as I slide my hands to the waist of my panties and slowly peel them down to my knees. My legs open again, and this time, there’s nothing to stop my fingers from teasing over my wet, eager lips.
Oh fuck.
I gasp as I sink a finger into my slick pussy, my hips rising to rock against it as I close my eyes and imagine it’s Camden touching me for the first time. I imagine him spreading me out over his desk in his office, pulling my legs apart and teasing my clit with the fat heat of his cock. I moan eagerly, snatching up my phone and instantly opening up the password protected file app where I keep the pictures.
…Those pictures, from the forbidden, illicit chats we’ve had over the last week.
And then, there it is, and my entire body trembles with pure lust. Because there, filling my entire high-def phone screen, is Coach Kirby’s cock. His very big, very swollen, very throbbing, very mouthwatering cock. I whimper as my fingers drag over my clit, circling the little bud as I picture this fat dick of his brushing over me. I gasp, pushing a finger back inside and imagining it’s him taking me—spreading my legs in the backseat of his car, or bending me over the sink in the bar bathroom, and just fucking me.
Pleasure melts through me, and my mouth falls open in a silent moan as I push myself harder and faster, until suddenly, there’s knock on my door.
God. Fucking. Damnit.
I gasp, lunging from the bed and yanking my panties up.
“Uh-h-hi?!” I blurt out, cringing at how guilty I sound.
“Waverly?”
I groan at my mom’s voice.
“Hey, uh, mom,” I croak. “I’m just working on some stuff. I’ll just do a lamb pita wrap, okay?”
My face is burning as I smooth down my skirt, my pulse racing as I chew at my lip.
“Actually, honey, you have a visitor!”
I frown, glancing at my phone to see if Brynn or Sasha texted me about coming by. It’s not like your mom being the Vice Principle of your school means friends are exactly banging down your door to come hang out, but both of them are over pretty frequently.
“Uh, one sec!”
I dart into the bathroom attached to my room, blushing fiercely in the mirror as I wash my hands. I run my clean fingers through my hair and take a breath before go for the door to my room.
“Hey—!”
The smile falls from my face. In fact, my whole face goes white as I look up not into Brynn’s face, or Sasha’s face. Nope. Because standing there filling my doorway, is Camden.
I swallow the lump that forms in my throat as his piercing blue eyes lance into me.
“Uh, hi,” I mumble.
Camden clears his throat. “We didn’t get a chance to talk strategy for regionals at practice today.”
My eyes dart to my mom, who’s standing behind my swim coach looking totally normal.
“Coach Kirby thinks you could sweep them this year, honey. Can you imagine what that would do for you in college in terms of div
ision ranking?”
Camden smiles innocently, shrugging. “Think? Think nothing, Natasha. She absolutely could.”
Mom laughs, patting him on the shoulder. “Well, I’ll let you chat. We were going to get some Greek for delivery later. Can I get you anything?”
Camden and I both open our mouths at the same time, the result being a jumble of me saying “no he can’t stay” and Camden saying, “thanks but I’ve got plans.” My mom blinks, looking confused as my face blooms red. Camden seems to take it in stride though, grinning at my mother.
“No, thank you though, Natasha. I’ve got things to do.”
My mom shoots me a look. “Let’s try to be a little nicer, Waverly?” She turns back to Camden and smiles. “Anyways, I’ll let you two talk.”
She turns and heads down the hall. He and I are silent, just watching as she disappears down the stairs before he finally turns back to me. I shiver as those gorgeous blue eyes drink me in, a shadow on his face that sends my heart racing.
“Regionals, huh?”
He says nothing as he steps into my room, and my breath catches as I step back to let him. He closes the door behind him, standing tall and muscled and looming over me looking way too good in dark jeans and a thin, v-neck white t-shirt.
“We’re not done,” he growls.
“No?” I sass back. “I thought you made it pretty clear in your office that we were.”
“We were,” he mutters.
“And what changed.”
“Me deciding that I’m not leaving this as a thread to unravel later.”
I frown.
“Do you think I’m actually going to tell people?”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m not.”
Camden’s look is hard, his eyes piercing right into me. But slowly, his face softens, and he nods.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, well,” I turn my back to him. “Sorry to be such a fucking embarrassment.”
He snorts behind me, which only infuriates me further before he opens his mouth.
“You think that’s what this is?” he growls lowly, sending a shiver down my spine. I start to open my mouth, but I close it instead.
“You’re smarter than that, Waverly, you know why last night—”
He stops himself, and when I turn back to him, his blue eyes are narrowed.
“Last night didn’t happen.”
“Fine,” I spit back.
“Stop it,” Camden growls, sending another shiver down my spine. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have texted you those…” he closes his eyes and sighs.
“Fuck, Waverly—”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” His eyes open, piercing right into me. “You’re a fucking kid.”
“I’m eighteen,” I say tightly. “I’m an adult.”
“Hardly.”
“I’m legal, Coach.”
There’s a low growl that rumbles through his clenched jaw, and I swallow thickly as the heat pools between my thighs as his eyes burn right into me. I can see the want there. The heat. The way the air around us just sort of sizzles the longer we’re in this room together behind a closed door.
“Do you seriously think I’m going to tell on you?”
“Waverly—”
“That I’m going to tell everyone you just grabbed and kissed me? That you sent me dirty text messages and a picture of your…” I bite my lip.
“Your cock?”
Camden growls.
“Give me your phone.”
I frown. “What? No.”
“Have you deleted them?”
I rake my teeth over my bottom lip.
“Deleted what.”
His jaw clenches. “You know what. The pictures.”
“Maybe.”
I see the heat flash in his eyes, and it sends a thrill through me
“Damnit, Waverly, I’m not playing fucking games here!” He snaps. “Did you delete everything?”
“Look it’s not like I share my phone around, I’ve got my own stuff on there too, you know.”
“What?” He frowns.
“You know, my personal stuff? Girl stuff?” I shrug. “Maybe I’ve got my own naked pictures on there too.”
His eyes narrow. “You have naked pictures of yourself on your phone?”
I grin. “Interested?”
His face darkens.
“I shouldn’t have come here.”
He turns and goes for the door, and I can feel my shoulders slump before he stops and turns back to me.
“We bury this, okay?”
“Fine.”
“Waverly…” He sighs, “I’m sorry.”
“For?”
He brings a hand up, his fingers raking his jawline.
“For kissing you.”
“I’m not,” I whisper.
“You should be.”
“And if I’m not?”
Camden looks away, something wild blazing in his eyes for a second before he turns back to me.
“You be the student. I’ll be the coach. That’s what this is.”
“Coach—”
“That is all this is, okay?”
“Got it,” I mutter.
We stand there another minute, our eyes locked and the heat slowly sizzling through the air between us before he turns and opens the door.
“See you at practice.”
The door shuts behind him as he walks away, and I can hear him chatting with my mom for a second before there’s the sound of the front door, and then a car engine starting before tires kick up the gravel of our driveway, and he’s gone.
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 hi
s 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.
“He needs to practice. His time was seriously abysmal at the last meet.”
She arches a brow, folding her arms over her chest.
