The O Coach

by Tara Wylde

  Four words I never thought I’d hear any man say to me. “Good.” I nibble my way down the side of Garret’s neck.

  He groans with pleasure. The sound eggs me on, making me bolder than I’ve ever been before. My hand sweeps down to press against his rapidly expanding cock, rubbing and massaging through the denim. His hips jerk, the unexpectedness of the movement nearly knocking me off my perch.

  One of his big hands fists in my hair, anchoring my mouth to his as he grinds his hips against my palm.

  He trails a string of kisses along my jaw and down my neck, nudging the loose collar aside so he can nibble on the sensitive skin where my neck and shoulder meet. His hands slide down my body, before they slip under my T-shirt and explore my bare back.

  Driven by a stronger need than I’ve ever felt before, I grapple with the front of his jeans, trying to figure out how to force the button through the button hole so that I gain better access to his cock. I want to wrap my fingers around it, explore every single inch of it, see what it looks like right before it slides into my body.

  Hot breath blows across the back of my neck, followed by a few drops of moisture. Before I can register the strangeness of that, Garret shouts.

  “Ugh,” he yells, the sound startling me. “Get away from me.” He untangles his hands from my shirt and hair and waves at something behind me. Confused and feeling hurt, I scramble back over the console, tugging my T-shirt back into place as I do, and swing around to stare at Garret, unsure of what I could have possibly done to trigger such a violent reaction.

  “You bastard,” he shouts. His hands find Harlan’s shoulder and he shoves my dog’s massive front end back to the back seat. “I’m perfectly capable of handling things on my own, thank you.”

  That’s when I notice the long line of shiny liquid on the side of Garret’s face and the damp splotches on his own shirt. Dog drool. I clap a hand over my mouth.

  Garret’s eyes lock onto mine. His expression is a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Your damn dog is becoming a menace. I’m starting to think that he’s the reason you’re having a hard time getting a guy to stick around.”

  I giggle. I can’t help myself. “He hasn’t met many of them. Dan’s the first guy I had over at my place in the past year or so, and Harlan ignored him.”

  I lean into the back seat and hug Harlan. He sighs happily. “I think he thought we were playing and wanted to take part.”

  “Not in these games,” Garret says. He opens his door. “Let’s head upstairs.”

  I unload Harlan from the backseat and follow Garret to the Dovetail’s entrance. It’s not easy. I have to lean on Harlan for support; my knees feel like they’re made from water and my body is humming in ways I’ve never experienced before.

  Garret holds the door open for us before leading the way to the elevator bank. He pushes the call button before his gaze captures mine. “How ‘bout we head up to my place and pick up where we left off in the car, but skip the dog drool part?”

  I grin at him while my tummy turns a happy summersault and my knees go even wobblier. “Sounds perfect.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Erin

  The heavy steel doors close with a soft whooshing sound. Garret presses the number of our floor into the control panel before turning to me. His hands come up, wrapping around my shoulders and pinning me back against the wall. His mouth covers mine in a kiss that manages to curl my toes and drench my panties.

  Hot damn! Garret knows how to kiss!

  Seriously, people who can kiss like Garret should be required to wear some sort of warning sign. Something like: Warning, One Kiss and You’ll be ruined for All Other Guys, or maybe If Lips Come Within One Inch of Yours, Spontaneous Combustion Will Occur.

  I doubt they’d have prevented me from finding myself in this exact position, but at least I would have been prepared.

  Garret draws my lower lip between his. All my brain cells short-circuit and the strength drains from my knees.

  I reach up, holding tight to his shoulders as he slides one hand down my torso, causing my body to hum. His hand’s downward trajectory halts when his fingers curl around the middle of my thigh. He lifts it, wrapping it around his narrow hips, and grinds the proof of his arousal against my aching pussy.

  “I can’t wait to come inside of you,” he growls against my lips.

  “Same here,” I gasp as he rolls his hips in a shallow thrusting motion. Even with our clothes between us, it’s enough to trigger a small explosion of sensation that causes my pussy to spasm. I cling to him, holding on for dear life, and struggle to come to terms with what just happened.

  I’m not an expert, but I’m pretty sure I just had my very first orgasm. In an elevator! While fully clothed! And if that’s not what that liquid explosion was, then I don’t care. It’s enough for me to understand why so many people are so quick to make their relationships sexual.

  Wow!

  Garret has no intention of letting me have a few minutes to come to terms with my new experience. I’m not even sure he realized what just happened. His lips explore the side of my neck. He nips and licks the sensitive skin. I clutch at him and struggle to remember how to breathe.

  If I’m reacting this strongly to him right here, in a freaking elevator, there’s no way I’m going to survive what he’s planning to do to me next.

  Behind Garret the elevator door swishes open, revealing the door of his penthouse apartment. Harlan, his leash dragging on the ground, trots out of the elevator and sits by the door, acting as if he makes the journey to the very top of the Dovetail building every day of his life.

  Garret stops kissing me long enough to rifle through the pockets of his jeans, which can’t be easy given how much pressure his swollen cock is putting on the zippered front, and finally locates his door key.

  He palms the key before bending and scooping me up, not in the romantic way like he did on our walk, but in a fireman’s lift, with my stomach draped across his broad shoulder.

  He carries me across the hall and into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. He reaches up with his free hand, giving my ass a sharp spank that causes my pussy to spasm, nearly setting off a second orgasm.

  My teeth sink into my lower lip, and I struggle to come to terms with the sensations rioting through my body. I’ve never liked the idea of recreational spanking, never thought it sounded like much of a turn on, but based on the way I just responded, there’s a strong possibility I’ll develop a fetish, provided that Garret is the one doing the spanking.

  Who would have guessed that he was the guy to teach me so many new things about myself and what my body craves?

  Keeping an arm locked behind my knees to anchor me to his shoulder, Garret inserts the key into the lock and shoves the door open. Harlan scoots through the opening before us, eager to explore this brand-new place.

  Garret’s pace is more leisurely. He strolls a few steps into a massive living room and kicks the door closed before letting me slip from his shoulder. He makes sure I feel every inch of his hard, powerfully built body before my toes touch the floor.

  His hands curve around my hips, tugging me close as he lowers his head, covering my mouth in a kiss that curls my toes. Moaning against his lips, I lift my hands, cupping his face.

  We’re both gasping for air by the time he breaks the kiss. He lowers and rests his brow on the top of my forehead.

  “Well,” he says after a few seconds. “Welcome to my place.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Erin

  Harlan doesn’t need any encouragement. He climbs right up onto the massive brown leather sofa that dominates the middle of the room and lays down with a happy sigh.

  “Oh no you don’t.” The humor in his voice takes the sting out of his words. “I’m not a total idiot. If you think I’m going to let you mess this up for me, you can think again.”

  Harlan rests his chin on his forepaws and closes his eyes, the very picture of a content Bernese Mounta
in Dog.

  Garret shakes his head. “Forget it, buddy. I’m not falling for it.”

  A skinny, gray three-legged cat struts into the room, its bent tail held high. It glances at the couch and stops in mid-step, its brilliant yellow eyes wide nearly bugging out of its head as it goggles at my dog.

  Harlan is too busy pretending to be asleep to notice the cat.

  Garret’s gaze bounces from my dog to his cat. “Great,” he mutters. “I don’t know how Sammy feels about dogs and I’d really rather wait to find out.”

  He hurries across the room, scooping up the cat and carrying it to the room the cat just came out of. He puts it down and nudges it farther into the room before shutting the door.

  He turns to the couch, where Harlan is still pretending to be sound asleep. “And now you.”

  He picks up the trailing leash and gives it the lightest tug. Harlan heaves a large sigh and slowly oozes off the couch. Garret closes him into another room.

  “That’s my weight room.” Garret turns back to me. “I keep a bowl of water and some old pillows in there for Sammy, so Harlan should be fine for a little while. And I won’t have to worry about him interrupting us.” He stops before me and grins. “Now, where were we?”

  I return his smile and stand on tiptoe to place a light kiss on his lips. “You were just about to show me your place.”

  Garret’s voice drops an octave. “Ah, yes.” He picks up my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “That’s right. And I think the bedroom is the ideal place to start the tour, don’t you?”

  “Works for me.”

  Garret’s bedroom occupies the second floor of his massive apartment. It’s three times the size of mine. And done up in a lot of earth tones that consist of browns, greens, and dark blues, with the occasional splash of orange or gold to brighten things up.

  Several nice photographs hang from the walls, but Garret doesn’t give me time to explore them.

  He tugs my hand, leading me to the room’s focal feature: the massive king-sized bed that has been shoved to the far side of the room.

  Garret maneuvers me to the bed and gently nudges me backwards until I’m lying on top of the cool comforter.

  His eyes roam the length of my sprawled body. “So beautiful,” he murmurs.

  I expect him to tumble onto the mattress and be all over me, like two characters in an R rated movie, but he doesn’t. Instead he lingers by the side of the bed, staring reverently down at me, a strange glow lighting his gorgeous eyes.

  “Simply stunning,” he murmurs and brushes a strand of hair away from my heated face, sliding it behind my ear. I lean into the casual touch, nuzzling my cheek against his fingertips, thrilling at the way the slightly callused skin scrapes lightly against my softer, smoother flesh.

  Without breaking eye contact, Garret reaches for the bottom of his T-shirt, balling it up in his fists in preparation for drawing it over his head, but before he does, I sit up and cover his hands with mine.

  “Let me,” I whisper through kiss-swollen lips.

  His warm breath washes over my face, blowing through my hair, nearly distracting me as my suddenly clumsy fingers clutch at the material. I slowly push the bottom of the shirt up, revealing one inch of bare masculine body after another. The sight of those glorious abs makes my mouth go try. My hands start shaking. Following my instincts, I lean forward and place a kiss on one of the hard ridges. Garret gasps and his flesh jumps beneath my lips, but he doesn’t move to stop me.

  Emboldened by his reaction, I continue the slow process of revealing a small strip of flesh which I kiss thoroughly before sliding the shirt just a little higher. This is so not like me. With every other man, I’ve simply lain back, letting them set the pace, but this is more fun.

  Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I rise up to my knees and pull the shirt over his head. His blazing gaze meets mine and the shirt falls completely forgotten from my fingertips.

  My heart stumbles and I nearly forget how to breathe. He’s stunning. A walking, talking, example of the perfect male body. And he’s all mine. At least for tonight.

  Garret kicks off his shoes and unfastens his jeans, letting them slide down his legs before he joins me on the bed. His hands curl around my shoulders, pushing me flat back onto the mattress before he reaches for the hem of my t-shirt and quickly pulls it over my head and tosses it on the floor.

  It takes all my self-control to lay passively beneath his bold stare. I’m still wearing my cut off shorts and my bra is a sturdy one that covers more of my body than the average bikini, including the one I brought on my seaside vacation last summer, but for some reason I feel more exposed than ever before.

  My eyes sweep up and down his body. My heart stumbles and I nearly forget how to breathe. He’s stunning. A walking, talking, example of the perfect male body. And he’s all mine.

  “Magnificent.” I murmur. Lust thickens my voice.

  Garret’s eyes sparkle and he leans in close, his warm breath washing over my face. “My turn.”

  On all fours, he looms above me. “You’re beautiful,” he says, cupping my face with one hand, his thumb stroking lightly over my parted lips. “Stunning.”

  Reaching out, I run a hand over his hips, stroking him through his jeans. “One of us is a bit over dressed, don’t you think?”

  “Mmm.” Garret reaches for his fly, popping the button out of the button hole. “That’s easily fixed.” He shoves his jeans and underwear down his powerful thighs, letting them join the rest of our clothes on the floor.

  His cock stands out, swelling proudly from his body, but before I can fully appreciate it, Garret buries the fingers of one hand in my hair, and uses the other to tilt my head until I’m looking into his stunning eyes.

  “Do you want to stop?” he whispers.

  The sincerity in his voice makes my heart ache and melts any concerns I have. He’s serious. If I tell Garret to stop, that I’m not ready, he will. I’m not sure if any of my other boyfriends would have done the same. That’s all it takes. Just that little bit of concern for me causes my worries and insecurities to melt away.

  The memory of that little explosion of sensation tickles my mind. It was one of the most incredible and satisfying things I’ve ever experienced, instantly having sex with Garret about a thousand times better than any of my previous boyfriends, but what if it could be even better? What if that was only a small sample of what Garret was really capable of?

  There’s only one way to find out. I twine my arms around his neck.

  “No.” I rise a little and brush a butterfly soft kiss across his lips. “Stopping is the last thing on my mind.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Erin

  Garret smiles, revealing a small, crooked incisor, his one flaw, as his gaze travels from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and back again.

  “I could look at you all day long,” he murmurs.

  I love being admired as much as the next woman, but right now I have other, more pressing, things on my mind. I don’t want to wait while Garret dreams up more compliments.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, twisting my fingers in his long, thick hair and tug, pulling him down so his chest is pressed against my breasts. His weight makes it difficult for me to breathe but I don’t care.

  Whether I lifted my head or he lowered his will always remain an unimportant mystery. The only thing that really matters is that our mouths meet. We mix teasing little nips with long, lazy searches of one another’s mouths while my hands find his shoulders and stroke the warm skin.

  My mind and soul would be perfectly content to stay here, just like this, kissing, for the rest of my life, but my body has other ideas. It wants to know exactly how much pleasure Garret can generate.

  I moan a protest when he breaks the kiss, but my disappointment fades as he trails a line of nipping kisses all the way from the side of my jaw to my right elbow. The cool breeze wafting through the apartment’s ventilation system touch
es the wet spot, chilling the skin, creating an interesting and intoxicating contrast to the fire Garret’s lighting within me.

  He turns his attention away from my elbow, directing it instead to my breasts. His big, callused hands kneed the soft flesh as his mouth finds and torments first one nipple and then the other.

  I thought that the lube I test drove last night was intense, but the heat it created is nothing compared to the surge of pure liquid desire between my legs right now, a fire that grows hotter and wetter each time Garret rolls my nipple between his teeth.

  Moaning and thrashing beneath his mouth, I grab his head, my fingers tangling in his hair, holding him steady as I arch my back, granting him better access to my aching, swollen breasts.

  The fire between my legs has intensified, turning into a need that can’t be ignored. The tension building inside of me is new and frightening. Garret’s hands and mouth are amazing, but I’m starting to feel like a pressure cooker that’s nearing the red zone.

  I squirm against Garret, pressing my belly against his proud erection, rubbing myself against him.

  “Garret,” I beg, though I’m not sure exactly what I want. “Please.”

  “Oh, I’m a long way from done with you,” Garret says, his words muffled by the fact that one of my nipples is still in his mouth.

  One of his hands slides away from my breast, gliding down along my ribcage and across my abdomen, where it stops, so close, but yet so far away from the place I most want him to touch.

  He releases my tormented nipple and brings his mouth back to mine, using long, slow kisses to drive me wild while his fingers draw long, lazy kisses on my lower belly, moving tantalizingly close to, but never actually breaching my womanly parts.

  My heart pounds, sending blood and a rich supply of desire and endorphins racing to every portion of my body. My heels thrum against the bed, keeping time with the beating of my heart.