Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
“Don’t overthink it,” he tells me. “Don’t try too hard. It needs to be natural. Come easily.”
I glance up at him.
Big mistake.
He’s so close I can count the flecks in his luscious brown eyes. His gaze is hypnotic. His lips are a thin line of seriousness, like he’s holding something back. His face is a mystery, which only makes me want to know everything about him.
“Where are you from?” I blurt out. He lets go of my hand and steps back, eyes me curiously, then shrugs.
“Nowhere fancy.”
“You mean like here?” I suggest. He tilts his head and glances around, then nods. “Yeah, well you wouldn’t like it so much if you were trapped here like me.”
Rhett’s eyes narrow like he’s examining me. My heart flutters, and I feel myself blushing again. I rub my cheeks like I have an itch to try and hide it. He leans down and picks up a ball, not saying anything. Did I annoy him? I’ve always been an awkward girl.
Just when the tension’s getting to be too much to bear, he says, “You know, you’re not what I expected.”
This makes me happy, despite having no idea what he means.
“No?” I ask, hoping he’ll go on. But he doesn’t. He just shakes his head.
“Nope.”
He goes back to his side of the court, and we continue the lesson. It’s all I can do to keep myself together–me in my short skirt, missing three out of every four returns like the total amateur I am.
When he leaves, he doesn’t offer much of a goodbye. No smile, no nod. In fact, he doesn’t even say anything. It’s almost like he’s in a hurry to get away from me.
But I know he’ll be back tomorrow. He’s my new coach. And I think…no, I’m sure I’m in very deep trouble.
2
RHETT
I feel her before I even see her.
It’s just something in the air, like a shift in the pressure. Like the moment before lightning cracks from the stormy sky. Static charge prickles across my skin, pulsing with intensity as I walk up the path from where I left my truck. And then she appears–like a heavenly angel from a fever dream.
Jesus Christ.
The sight of her nearly knocks the wind out of me. She’s barefoot, wearing a short tennis skirt–pink, not white like yesterday’s–and a baby blue polo. The breeze lifts the hem of her skirt like it has its own obsession with her, giving me a glimpse at her perfect thighs. So smooth. So young.
Her hips sway as she shifts her weight, causing my cock to pulse instantly, almost violently, with fierce attraction. Her hair is down, long and wavy and spilling across her shoulders, bouncing with each step she takes. Of course, that’s not the only thing that’s bouncing. I can see the sway of her breasts beneath the thin fabric of her polo. Large Cs or maybe even Ds, perky and plump on her thin, delicate frame.
Her hair…goddamn. It’s messy today, like she just got out of bed, which instantly makes me picture her twisted up in her sheets, her cheeks glowing pink, those innocent eyes staring up at me as I lower myself on top of her. Cassandra is pure sex and desire, and she doesn’t even know it.
And that’s what makes this worse. She’s not doing any of this on purpose. Not trying to drive me out of my mind with my desire for her–she’s just doing it by existing. She walks like she’s never had a care in the world. Like no one has ever looked at her and wanted to ravage her.
I want to drop to my knees, lift her skirt, and cover her pussy with my mouth. Lick her until her eyes roll back in her head and she passes out from pleasure. I want to fuck the innocence right out of her, mark her so deep with my cock that no other man will ever be able to get near her without smelling my scent on her skin.
I know she’s a virgin. Her father told me how he raised her–kept her away from the world. But she’s also engaged to Arthur, one of the richest and most powerful men in the country. I can’t even imagine the resources he has. If he chose to destroy my life, I have no doubt he could do it.
All I can do is pray that I can somehow get through these coaching lessons without doing something that completely ruins my life. And that’s going to be one hell of a challenge.
I drag my palm over my mouth and force myself to look away, down at the grass by the court. This was just supposed to be another job. Another way for a regular guy like me to make money. I thought I’d just be coaching another spoiled brat who was always on her phone and distracted half the time. I had no idea I’d be coaching an absolute goddess.