And when she moaned, a raw, guttural sound that sent shockwaves of need through my body, I knew there was no going back.
“What do you say?” I demanded, my gaze locking with hers, intense and unyielding.
“Right now,” she rasped. “You’re the coach.”
And damn, hearing her say it made everything inside me snap, a firestorm of control and passion that I couldn’t hold back. This was it. We were past the point of no return.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
FRANKIE
Wrong.
So, so wrong.
The way his body pressed me into the mattress, taking full control, had my thoughts scattered, my body too overwhelmed to think. Teddy released my wrists, no decisions to make, no choices left to me, as he ground his hips into mine. In one single moment, he took that from me—the burden of thinking, of questioning. All I had to do was say yes.
And God, I wanted this.
Had wanted it for too long.
A shiver ran down my spine, the thrill of his touch setting goosebumps alight, soft hairs standing on end like an electric current racing across my skin. His eyes—dark, hungry in the dim light of my room—locked onto mine, pulling every last breath from my lungs. He rolled his hips again, the hard length of him hitting the exact place I needed more. More of him. More of his touch, his lips.
“Say it again,” he growled.
“You’re the coach.” I arched my back, trying to press my hips closer to his, craving him. “You’re in charge.”
“That’s right, baby.” He lowered himself on top of me again, the delicious heat of his body spreading through my limbs. This was happening. And I needed it. More than I’d ever needed anything.
His fingers slid up the fabric of my shirt, pulling it off with a speed that made my head spin. But then, he was back, lips soft and insistent, fingertips feather-light across my skin. His mouth traveled down my neck to the junction of my shoulder, where he bit down, sharp and electrifying.
A quick flash of pain melted into something more—tantalizing, intoxicating—as he licked the sting away, his warm breath dancing across my shoulder.
“Frankie,” he whispered, his voice shifting to something tender, raw. He didn’t meet my gaze, instead focused on my bare chest. One of his hands moved to cup my breast, pinching it gently, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin.
“Yeah?” I gasped, the shock of the pinch quickly soothed by the way he rubbed it away.
“I need you to say you want this,” he murmured, his eyes finally lifting to meet mine. “That you won’t run from it again.” He let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers tightening around my skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long…” His breath was heavy, as though he couldn’t quite believe it was real, thatIwas real. “Please, Frankie. I need you to say it.”
Something in his voice made my heart break, a quiet crack deep inside. Even if this was the wildest, most reckless thing I’d ever done, I was in. I was committed. There was no denying it anymore—this was where I wanted to be. With him.
I cupped his chin, guiding his face toward me. He turned his cheek into my palm, breathing me in, as if I could anchor him. My thumb brushed circles near the corner of his mouth, a place I knew well, where the dimples usually appeared when he smiled. Except, he wasn’t smiling now.
I needed that smile.Ineeded him to smile.
My thumb trailed to his lips—soft, warm, thick—then moved over the stubble above his upper lip, following the curve up to his eyes, the long, dark lashes feathering softly against his skin. This man, all rough edges and tender softness, was beauty personified, but not just on the outside.
Pulling his face to mine, I whispered against his lips, my breath mingling with his. “Tell me how you want me, Coach. I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyelids slid open. His lips curved. “You can tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable. But right now…” His face sobered, the smile dropping and every part of me clenched as he raked his eyes down my body. “Get on your knees.”
I obeyed because his tone left no other choice. He sat back on his heels and watched me roll onto my stomach and push up onto my knees, my ass arching embarrassingly close to his face.
There was rustling fabric, and I looked back to find Teddy discarding every scrap of clothing he had on. “Next time, I’ll let you undress me.”
I didn’t argue because I’d already come to the realization there would be a next time. Teddy was an addiction, one I didn’t want to shake.
His fingers slid into the waistband of my leggings and underwear both, and he slid them down to my knees.
