The O Coach

by Tara Wylde

  Harlan, bored with waiting for us humans to make a decision, splashes into the puddle, going as far as his leash allows before lowering his head and taking a long drink.

  I gauge how much of his legs are covered in water. “Looks deep.”

  “Must have been a rain storm up in the mountains. Caused a flash flood. Clearly, our timing sucks. Another hour or two, and this would be dry.” Erin grimaces and sighs. “Looks like I’m going to have to deal with slimy feet for the rest of the walk. That’ll teach me to take more time when choosing footwear. I just hope it’s not too cold.”

  She takes one tentative step toward the puddle.

  Before she takes a second, I rush to her side, bend, and swoop her up in my arms.

  She yelps, then laughs. “What are you doing?”

  I grin at her. “It’s too big to throw a jacket over like, but the least I can do is carry you to the opposite shore.”

  Giggling, Erin tightens her grip on the leash, and wraps her free arm around my neck. “Oh, how chivalrous.”

  “That’s my middle name,” I joke as I step into the water.

  Within two steps the water has soaked through my jeans, shoes, and socks, but I barely notice as I keep splashing across it, Harlan happily bouncing and splashing beside me. The only thing I’m fully aware of is the feel of Erin’s soft body against mine. The lavender scent of her hair fills my nostrils, but the smell doesn’t calm me; instead it seems to sink deep inside of me, working its way into my brain and touching tiny pleasure points. I can’t think of a single thing that smells as good as Erin’s hair.

  Picking her up, or at the very least carrying her cradled against my chest instead of tossed over my shoulder, fireman style, was a mistake. Everywhere her soft, supple body presses against mine sends tingles and burns. I’m surprised my clothes aren’t smoldering. She feels perfect pressed against my chest.

  With each soggy step, my dick twitches and grows, pressing so hard against my fly, the seams are going to tear apart at any second.

  I reach the other side of the puddle. Rather than setting Erin onto her feet, I lower her slowly, letting her slide down the entire length of my body.

  By the time the soles of her sandals strike the footpath, I’m sunk. My promise to myself that I wouldn’t touch her is in tatters. My body craves her touch as much as it craves oxygen.

  My knees tremble as my hands cup her hips, tugging her close, pressing her against my throbbing cock. My heart pounds in anticipation.

  Erin’s head tips back, her eyes meeting mine. Longing swirls in their pretty depths.

  “Can I?” Emotion and a sudden surge of lust thicken my voice.

  Erin’s nod is all the confirmation I need. I close the short distance between our lips.

  God! I thought I’d imagined how good she tasted last night. But I was wrong. She tastes even better now than she did then, and her sweet flavor is already getting under my skin, working its way into my bloodstream, becoming more addictive than the most potent drug.

  A contented sigh buzzes against my lips as her body melts against mine. Tiny lightning bolts of pleasure spark and sizzle at each point our bodies connect. My fists tighten, clutching at her clothing, pulling her even more securely against me, desperately melding our bodies together as I deepen the kiss.

  Erin is anything but a passive participant in the kiss. She licks and nips at my lips. Blood roars in my ears before dropping south and pooling in my groin, making me harder than I ever remember being before.

  Erin wedges her hands between us, her fingers boldly running over my shoulders and down my chest before massaging my abs through my T-shirt. Our tongues engage in an age-old dance that almost, but not quite, distracts me from her still roving hands as they slide lower.

  I moan against her mouth, fully anticipating her hands sliding between our pelvises but she stops just short of the jackpot. Instead her long, sweet fingers slip beneath the bottom of my T-shirt and brush against my overheated, sweat slick skin.

  My knees tremble and I break the kiss, resting my brow against hers as I soak in the simple, G-rated touch. It’s been a long time, way too long, since I last felt a woman’s soft touch on skin. I’ve forgotten how good it feels.

  Erin nibbles the thick cord that’s popped up on the side of my neck, her teeth finding all sorts of forgotten pleasure points as her fingers once again start to move, engaging in a slow, incredible exploration of the ridges and valleys that make up my abs. I lean into her touch.

  Right now, I want Erin more than I can ever remember wanting anything else. She’s the only thing that matters.

  I rotate my hips, delighting in the guttural groan the movement rips from Erin’s throat. Her nails scrape against my flesh, and her teeth catch hold of my earlobe, lightly biting it.

  As good as this feels, I need more.

  I drag my hands upwards, tugging the bottom of her T-shirt free of her shorts, so I can slide my fingers between the waistband and her soft skin, not stopping the slow, steady intrusion until I find the elastic band of her panties.

  Erin squirms against me until my mouth once again finds hers.

  The snap on her cut-off short breaks as I work my hand deeper into her shorts, rubbing and pinching at her through her panties.

  The material is driving me insane. The soaked satin proves that Erin is every bit as turned on as I am, but I want more. I want to feel her essence, but I can’t; the material denies me the very thing that I want.

  Erin thrusts her hips, grinding herself against my fingertips, her body begging for more attention as she drives her tongue deep into my mouth.

  Harlan barks, the sound barely registering as I slide a finger beneath the tight loop of lacy elastic that wraps around Erin’s thigh. Something hard wraps around my legs, just below my knees as the barking continues, but I don’t care.

  My fingers glides along Erin’s soft, smooth skin, until the tip finally brushes against her lower lips. Erin’s hips buck against my hand, silently demanding that I continue my sensual exploration.

  Just as I start to obey her unspoken order, whatever has wrapped around my legs jerks tight, sweeping them out from under me.

  One second, I’m upright and lost in the sweet paradise that is Erin’s mouth and body, the next I’m hurtling backwards towards the hard footpath at approximately the speed of light and bringing Erin down with me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Garret

  I hit the footpath with a jarring thud that feels like it breaks every single bone in my body. A nanosecond later, Erin lands on top of me, driving what little air remained in my lungs from my body.

  Stars dance behind my closed eyelids as I instinctively close my arms around Erin’s body, desperately trying to protect her from whatever unknown foe has just caused the world to turn upside down.

  The barking continues, getting louder and louder.

  Harlan! I was so wrapped up in the kiss and promise of what was about to come, that I completely forgot about Erin’s big dog. At least it doesn’t sound like he’s wandered too far.

  The weight on my chest seems to double. It feels like Erin is being forced directly into and through my body. My lungs flatten as what little air that remained in them following the fall is forced out.

  Desperate to know, if not the reason, at least the cause, of this torture, I reluctantly crack open one eye and find myself staring straight up at Harlan’s toothy grin.

  “Ugh, Harlan,” Erin groans. She waves her hands backwards, the movement pushing her even more firmly against me. Under any other circumstances, I’d be delighted by the way her perfect breasts are squashed against my chest, but not at this precise moment. “Get off me.”

  Rather than obey her somewhat garbled order, Harlan lowers his face, licking her ear, and then drops lower still and runs his tongue over the entire side of my face, adding insult to injury.

  “Damn dog,” I groan with what little breath I have remaining.

  “Here, let me help,” an
unfamiliar voice says.

  A pair of hairy legs calves appear in my peripheral vision.

  “Come on, boy,” the stranger’s voice says, and a moment later Harlan’s paws appear on the foot path beside my head and most of the weight lifts from my chest. “Good boy.” The voice continues to talk as I feel someone groping around my legs. “Just give me a sec to get this untangled and then you should be able to get up. There.” Something between my legs and the hard foot path moves in a slithering sliding motion.

  Please don’t let that be a snake, I silently hope. I can’t deal with a snake right now.

  “Here, Miss, let me help you.” Erin’s weight lifts off my body.

  A second later she kneels by my shoulder. Her soft, warm hands cup my face. “Oh, Garret, are you okay?”

  “I’ll live.” Probably. “Just give me a few seconds to catch my breath.”

  I lie flat on my back on the footpath, focusing on drawing one breath of air into my lungs, reflating them, while enjoying the sensation of Erin’s fingers moving through my hair. Finally, I sit up.

  “What the hell happened?” I demand.

  “Dude, it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” The guy who help remove Erin and Harlan from my crushed body is a young black man with dreadlocks who’s wearing a faded University of Arizona T-shirt and expensive wet running shoes. “My girlfriend Liz and I were watching birds, and we come around the corner and see the two of you all hot and heavy for one another. I wanted to watch; the way you two were going at it was a lot more interesting than any of the stuff birds do ‘round here.”

  “Jamal, you wanted to watch because you’re a pervert.” A thin blond girl who looks about the right age for a U of A student moves to stand beside him. She punches his upper arm and rolls her eyes. “Always have been, probably always will be.” She loops an arm around his waist and smiles at Erin and me. “I told him watching was rude, that you were having a private moment on a public path, and that we should sneak right past, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “But your dog wouldn’t let us. He started barking his damned head off, probably trying to protect you from us.” The guy’s grin widens. “And the two of you didn’t hear a thing.”

  “I didn’t,” Erin confesses, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of rose pink.

  “You had other things on your mind,” the guy says easily. “I get it. When the barking didn’t scare us away or pull the two of you apart, your dog started circling round you, wrapping you up in the leash.”

  “I started to say something,” Liz interjects, “but before I could—”

  “Wham!” Jamal claps his hands together, the sound disturbingly like a shot. “The two of you were down and the dog jumped on top of you both.”

  “I think he was trying to protect you,” Liz says. “It was very sweet of him.”

  “Yeah.” I give Harlan a dark look. He blinks innocently at me and leans against Liz’s legs, begging her to scratch behind his ears. “Sweet is one word for it.”

  I suspect that in a few days, I’ll find this situation as funny as Jamal and Liz do, but right now I’m too bruised and humiliated to be amused.

  “Do you want us to call someone, the park rangers, and tell them that there’s been an accident?” Liz asks. “They’ll probably have a stretcher and other medical things for you.”

  Being carried off the birding trail on a stretcher, that’s just what I need to make my humiliation complete.

  “No,” I tell her. “I’m okay.”

  Erin frowns at me. “Are you sure?”

  “You hit your head when you fell,” Liz adds. “You should probably get checked out for a concussion.”

  My head doesn’t feel too bad, and now that I can finally breathe again. I realize that most of the damage seems to have been done to both of my shoulders. “I’m not concussed, and nothing’s broken so I should be able to get out of here under my own steam.”

  Jamal helps me to my feet while Liz and Erin look on.

  I shake both of their hands. “Thanks for your help.”

  Liz drops to her knees and wraps her arms around Harlan’s neck. It figures. I’m the injured party, but the girls are all over the cute dog. “Goodbye, sweet boy,” she whispers against his fur. She stands up, but instead of continuing her trek with her boyfriend, she hesitates and looks at Erin.

  “Um, this might sound a little weird, since we really don’t know anything about one another, but um, if you ever need someone to take care of your dog, feel free to give me a call. I love dogs, well, all animals really, but they’re not allowed in my apartment. Hanging out with yours, it’d be a real blast.”

  “Of course.” Erin rattles off her phone number which Liz enters into her phone.

  We stand side by side and watch the pair walk hand in hand down the path, chattering excitedly to one another before they round another corner and disappear.

  Erin turns to me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Embarrassed, but fine.” I reach for her hand, threading our fingers together. An unexpected jolt of awareness, much stronger than the simple touch warranted, shoots through me, so powerful, I nearly drop her hand before I catch myself. I glance down, surprised when I don’t see bright sparks of electric light dancing around our digits. “Now, how about we get home before something else happens?”

  Erin’s grin is pure sunshine. “Sounds good to me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Erin

  “I can’t believe you’re so stubborn that you refused to let me drive.” Garret navigates the tight turn into the Dovetail’s parking garage and slowly drives toward the far end of the garage. I twist in the passenger seat to glare at him. “Is it a Superman complex or a possessive thing?”

  Garret glance at me. “A Superman complex?”

  I roll my eyes. “You were married to a shrink. Surely, she mentioned it from time to time.”

  “Not that I remember.”

  “It’s where a guy is so determined to prove that he’s Superman that he refuses to admit that he needs help, ask for directions, or that he may be concussed and shouldn’t have driven.”

  “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I’m not concussed.”

  He pulls into the second to last space at the far end of the parking garage, an end that I’ve never used. Based on the cars parked here, it’s reserved for tenants who don’t mind spending as much on their ride as they do their rent. “I don’t have a headache. If I don’t touch the point of impact, there’s no pain at all. Besides, it’s less than a half hour drive from Catalina to here.”

  “That’s a great defense. ‘Really, Your Honor. It was such a short trip, I didn’t think the fact that I was seeing double should matter’.” Garret laughs at my attempt to impersonate him. “I’m sure that the judge will agree with you and therefore move heaven and earth to keep you out of jail.”

  Garret kills the Trofeo’s engine. “We don’t have to worry about what your hypothetical judge might have done or said, because we’re home and I didn’t get into a hypothetical accident.”

  “That makes it all better,” I grumble. “I’m starting to think you’re one of those guys who doesn’t let anyone drive their car.”

  Garret’s brows shoot up. “That’s what this is all about? You wanted to drive? Why didn’t you say so? I would have let you.”

  “Because I didn’t want to drive your car.” Though now that he’s mentioned it, the Trofeo does look like it’s more fun to drive than my little sub-compact. “It was about making it home safe.”

  Garret releases his seat belt and grins at me. “You’re kind of cute when you’re cranky.”

  “That’s one of the oldest clichés in the book.” But that doesn’t prevent a tendril of warmth from unfurling in my chest. “Don’t you have any original material?”

  “Oh, I’ll show you original.”

  In one smooth motion, he pushes the driver’s seat all the way back, unsnaps my seat belt, and hauls me across the
center console, rotating me so that when I land, I’m straddling his lap, facing him. Keeping me tucked between the steering wheel and his chest, Garret kisses me like a starving man who has just found himself in the middle of a five-course meal.

  His mouth devours mine. His teeth nip, his lips suck, and his tongue thrusts. It’s like he can’t get enough of my taste.

  In all of my other relationships, this is the point when things start to go south, when, instead of losing myself in the kiss, I find myself worrying about my technique, where I should put my hands, and just how far I should let the kiss progress.

  But not this time. I match him, beat for beat.

  This time, I shut my mind down and lose myself in the magic that is Garret’s mouth.

  His fingers roam up and down my back, stroking me through my T-shirt. Each brush of his hand ignites a mini-fire at the point of contact. In just a few minutes with Garret, I’ve felt more alive, more sensual, than I’ve ever felt.

  For the first time, I’m starting to see just why so many people are obsessed with this sex stuff.

  The world tips slightly, disorienting me for a moment before I realize he reclined the seat, giving me more room. My full weight rests squarely on his chest as I thread my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as I lose myself in a swirling vortex of sensations I’ve never come close to experiencing before.

  The hard proof of his arousal presses against my pelvis. I slide one hand along his upper body, wedging it between them until my fingertips brush against his cock, stroking it through his pants.

  He groans into my mouth, his hands clutching my body as he rocks his hips, grinding himself against my hand.

  I grin against his mouth, loving that I’m not the only one losing control. “Like that?”

  “Too much,” he responds, the words causing his lips to vibrate against mine in a very entertaining manner. “You’re driving me crazy.” An unyielding bulge, proof of his honesty, presses urgently against my belly.