Transfer Student Pt. 03

Nia had had a long week. She lay on her bed in an oversized t-shirt, thinking. She didn't feel great about the guys she had hooked up with. It was like she couldn't help herself. She loved how it felt to be wanted, almost needed. She separated her school and lacrosse self from her party self. At least she tried.

She had practice every night that week and a game on Friday. She had played well and they had won 5-2. There had even been a small moment when Brendan smirked at something she said during the huddle, causing her to almost blush until she made eye contact with a glaring Suzy. She couldn't help how they felt about her. She wasn't going to dwell on the bad attitude of some of her teammates.

Tonight, Heather had invited her to a party on the opposite side of campus. She was planning to meet up with her as soon as she got dressed. Tonight, she felt adventurous. She wanted a few drinks and maybe to kiss a guy or two. She got up and poured a small shot of vodka from her stash, slipped out of her shirt, and found the short black dress she picked out. It was a tank top style and clung to her curves. She pulled her hair up and added a bit of makeup, then headed out to meet Heather.

Nia took another long gulp of her drink as she stood by the counter, waiting for Heather to show up. Though none of the girls on the team were really her cup of tea, Heather seemed the most interested in hanging out with her.

Sure, she'd had to bite her tongue hard during Heather's monologue on how she "totally understood Black Lives Matter because like white girls get treated like shit too."

She'd never be more than a Black girl to Heather. To any of them. On the team. In the locker room. On campus. Not in this world she'd been forced to call normal. She shook her head back and forth clearing her mind of these thoughts. Her phone buzzed. One missed text.

hey girl, not feeling well so sorry! Raincheck. ♥️

Nia took another gulp, rolling her eyes and looked around the room, anyone she might know. He stood a head taller than the guys around him. He was wiry, strong-looking, with a mop of black hair and dark eyes. Eli. She'd heard he was a good player for a freshman. As she took another swig of her drink, his eyes caught hers. His lips twitched up slightly in recognition, and she felt the thrill shoot through her stomach, that first twinge she always got when a guy looked at her with desire. She turned away to refill her cup.

"Didn't know you came to parties like these." His voice was deeper than she expected-that fake-smooth tone white guys picked up after too much rap and not enough self-awareness.

"I don't." Almost automatically, she bit the edge of her cup and looked up to meet his eyes. She was flirting. She couldn't stop her instinct to feel belonging.

"Then I guess I'm lucky," he said, taking a step closer.

"This your house?" Nia asked.

"Yeah, want a tour?"

"Thought all freshmen lived on campus."

"Not me." He didn't offer more, "Come on." He took her hand, leading her away from the party, outside.

She hesitated. She could just go home. Eli tugged a bit more, and she let herself follow, chasing the feeling again. He brought her around to the back of the house, where no one could see them, but they could still hear the buzz of the party. He pushed her gently against the wall of the house.

"I thought I was getting a tour," she bit her lip and fake-pouted.

"I heard you like it outside better." He pushed his hips against hers.

"Heard from who?" The pleasure of her power started to slip, and she imagined Bryce giving this freshman details.

He didn't answer instead kissing the side of her neck, and his hands dropping from her hips to the hem of her dress. Nia wanted to ask again, but his warm tongue on her neck and voice in her ear distracted her.

"You are so fucking hot," he whispered as he lifted her skirt, "None of us can stand watching you run around in those shorts before our practice."

Nia let the words go to her head imagining that they actually meant something. He pushed his tongue into her mouth. She loved feeling like he couldn't get enough of her. She let him touch her all over and reveled in the attention.

He cupped her breasts in both of his hands, his mouth open, his eyes open, almost reverent.

"God, you're so hot," he muttered, and his thumbs brushed over her nipples.

She dropped to her knees swiftly. He watched her, excited to see where she was taking this. She unzipped his jeans and rubbed the length of his erection before freeing it from his boxers. She took him into her mouth without another thought, looking up at him with her dark doe eyes.

His head dropped back with a groan the moment her mouth closed over him.

"Fuck, I knew it," his hand rubbed the back of her head gently, "Yeah... just like that..." He held the back of her neck softly, letting her move up and down. She kept her eyes open the whole time. Watched his face, enjoying how much control she had over him. Watched how fast his lacrosse boy bravado melted when she swirled her tongue over the tip of his dick.

She let him cum in her mouth. He watched her carefully as he finished rubbing his fingers across her swollen lips as she swallowed.

"Jesus, they were right." He sighed, letting his head fall back.

Nia told herself it didn't matter what "they" had said. She'd had her fun. She stood up awkwardly, brushing the debris from her knees, and started toward the back gate.

"You don't have to go..." He said, but it came out thin.

She didn't answer. She let the gate respond, slamming closed behind her.

Brendan had a small office in the gym area near the locker rooms. He used it to think through plays, plan lineups, and be in his own world for a little while. The transition to out-of-college life wasn't that great. He had a good job, and he still had a good excuse to be outside and earn a little money by coaching. He usually spent some time planning in his office, followed by a quick workout before heading home.

But tonight he wasn't working. Not really. Just staring at the week's lineup, jaw tense, fingers pressed flat against the desk.

Then he heard Liam's voice echoing from the guys' locker room.

Loud. Confident. Too familiar.

And then--Nia's name.

He didn't move.

He just listened.

"Yo, you aren't getting it," he said boisterously. "Nia is a whole different breed."

Laughter. Brendan knew that laughter and what it meant. He felt the heat rise in his throat.

"You hit that again?" another voice Brendan didn't recognize.

"Just once so far. But that's all I needed to have the experience. Check that off my list--hot Black chick. She was dripping wet before I pulled down my pants."

More laughter, then another voice he knew--that idiot Bryce.

"That ass is amazing, but her mouth. Took it like she was hungry."

"She spit?" another voice teased.

"No. She swallowed every last drop and looked at me like she wanted more."

The whole room roared. Then a lull.

"She did that to me, too," a younger-sounding voice.

"Freshman, you got a piece?" Liam laughed.

"I thought she was just, like, flirting with me," the young voice said earnestly. "And then the next thing I know, she's on her knees in the grass."

Brendan could tell it was Eli. The kid tried too hard and would do anything Liam did to feel cool. Fuck, what was she thinking? His fist clenched.

"She looked so pretty like that," Brendan noticed the sense of awe in Eli's voice.

Liam chuckled--slow and mean.

"Don't get too attached, freshman. Nia's not the kind you take home--she knows her place. Gotta hand it to her, though, she plays that well-spoken good girl act like a pro. Don't let it fool you."

Brendan's jaw locked tight. Knows her place. That line--not just the arrogance of it, but the quiet confidence--the certainty in Liam's voice that Nia was precisely what he said she was: a walking fetish wrapped in prep school polish. Brendan felt it crawl under his skin, not because it surprised him, but because part of him had thought the same.

It was in the way she looked at him when he was giving out plays in huddles, the way her voice softened when she asked him a question during a drill, and especially in when she bent over, her plump ass pushed back without even trying, as she untied her cleats daintily like the prep school girl she was.

But hearing it said like that--like she was something to be passed around--it made him want to throw a punch. His palms burned. His chest felt tight. And in his mind, he couldn't stop picturing her--The girl they thought they knew. And the one he couldn't stop thinking about.

"Think of her like the teammascot."

More laughter.

"She got that good girl act," Bryce added. "Always quiet on campus and at practice. But you can see it"

"Black chicks... "Brendan imagined Liam looking over his shoulder and then giving it a go again, "Chicks like that are a warm-up, boys. We all get a try."

Lockers slammed as the guys broke it up, heading home.

Brendan sat frozen. Everything in his office felt dead still. He told himself it was because she was one of his players. He didn't like hearing that kind of talk.

But he couldn't help seeing her--Nia. Her brown skin. Her wide eyes. Her mouth opening and closing around one of them. Her flat stomach. Her back arching, pushing her tits out. The quiet gasps coming from her deep voice.

Part of him wanted to punch Liam's teeth out. Part of him wanted to see what they saw, hear what they heard, and feel what they felt. His hands curled into fists. And deep in his gut, something twisted. Not just jealousy. Possession. Arousal. Shame.

He didn't know if he wanted to protect her, claim her, or punish her after hearing them talk like that. He hated the way they talked about her. He hated that he understood her appeal. And he hated that he could feel his cock getting hard thinking about her now--picturing her on her knees, moaning another guy's name, giving them something she hadn't given him.

His body jerked up suddenly from his desk. As he grabbed his things to head home, he took a breath to slow his body down. He'd get out of here, shower, get rid of this inappropriate feeling. She could do what she wanted. It was none of his business, he told himself, but he couldn't help but feel like it was.

As he walked by the girls' locker room, the door was slightly ajar, and he saw her, her back to him. What the hell was she still doing here? He pushed the door open a little and took her in. Why couldn't he stop looking at her like this? Something was simmering under his skin since earlier. Anger? Lust? He froze, clenching his jaw as his eyes devoured her.

She was just out of the shower. Her brown skin was still damp, and her curly hair wet, lying around her shoulders. She wore a pink sports bra and thin, tight white cotton shorts. Her earbuds were in as she sat on the bench, scrolling on her phone. Her legs were folded up, and she looked relaxed, as if she thought the building was empty.

He took another step into the room. He shouldn't be here--especially the way he felt right now. Agitated. Angry. Possessive. Turned on. What the hell was she thinking, letting guys like that use her? She was better than them. He felt the anger take over as he took a few more steps into the room, and he was speaking before he knew it.

"What the hell are you thinking?" His voice came out louder than he intended.

Her back shot up straight. She turned to face him, removing her earbuds. She took in her coach, standing tall behind her. He looked the same, broad shoulders, dark hair, sharp eyes, but also different. Tense. Jaw tight. Eyes dark. Not tired--wound up.

"Brendan, what are you doing here?" Hearing her say his name like that, all breathless, made his body react instinctively.

"They talk about you, you know. The guys. They talk about your mouth like it's a party trick."

He watched her recoil from his words. Her eyes turned dark, and her thick lips turned down into a frown.

"You're out of line," she replied.

Nia sucked her bottom lip into her mouth to hold the shameful feeling that flashed over her.

He was being cruel on purpose. He wanted a response that would make her feelings half as intense as his.

"You let them treat you like a toy." He took another step toward her.

"I didn't let anything." She pushed her cleats into her small bag, hoping he didn't notice her hands shaking. "I made choices." She looked up at him, trying to look defiant and sure while feeling like she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide from his piercing, judging eyes.

"Bad ones." She zipped her bag up with more force than necessary.

He was being harsh. But it was like he couldn't help it. He was damn angry at her.

"They weren't complaining," she said, tapping into that powerful feeling she got with a guy, and standing up straight.

"No," he said, crossing his arms. "They wouldn't. You're good, apparently."

She noticed how Brendan put extra emphasis on the word good, eyeing her up and down slowly in a way that made her feel naked.

"That's none of your business."

She began gathering her things quickly.

"I made it my business," he said, stepping forward.

"Why? Because they told you what I did with them and you got...?"

"Because you gave it to them like it meant nothing." his voice rose.

"Maybe it didn't," she said, holding back a sadness she didn't know was there. "And so what, you're jealous?" She crossed her arms and cocked out her hip, trying to look tough, and it pushed him over the edge. He took two long steps and was almost touching her. The only thing between them was the bench.

"Jealous that you're getting fucked by every guy on that team? You're better than that." He looked down at her, taking in her smooth, dark skin and almond-shaped eyes. "Than them." Despite trying to stop himself, he reached up and touched her jaw.

Nia breathed out. She felt ashamed, defensive, and turned on all at once. She knew Brendan thought she was a good player, but she didn't think it went beyond that. She was mortified that he had heard the things she'd done. Of course, it would get back to him. Why hadn't she thought of that? The weight of her past stupidity was heavy, and she knew she had acted recklessly.

She steeled her confidence and said, "So what, you want to fuck me now too? You think you're any better than them?"

Brendan rolled her question around in his mind. He wanted to fuck her. Mindless, physical, taking her and showing her what those boys couldn't. Thinking of it turned him on, but it also made him feel no different than the others. He wanted to show her she was better than that. Didn't he? He wasn't just another white guy using her for a checklist. Right?

"I don't think I'm better," he concluded pulling her closer, "I just know I want to make you feel." He pulled her lips to his as he pushed against her, side-stepping the bench as he pressed her against the lockers.

Nia gasped into his mouth. Was she really kissing Brendan, her coach? The same serious, steady guy who corrected her cradle? She felt his tongue invade her mouth--all-encompassing. Then he pulled away, eyeing her face. She could feel him making assumptions about her in every way. They held each other's gaze. Her eyes were glassy and bright, his focused and furious. He ground his hips against her, keeping his mouth touching hers. She reached up to grab his thick wrists, but she couldn't tell if she was pulling him away or holding him closer.

"You can't touch me and then judge me," she snapped each word. She struggled a little to pull out of his embrace, making her hips move flush against his, by accident, she told herself.

"I'm not judging you," he said as his lips skimmed over her face. He couldn't help but enjoy the friction her barely clothed hips made against his khaki pants. He knew he could still stop himself, but fuck, he didn't want to. He pressed his lips to her ear relieving himself of what he'd been dying to say to her "I'm about to ruin you."

His hand slid up her thigh, finding the waistband of her shorts. She gasped as he slipped inside her--two fingers, fast, wet, hard. She couldn't stop her hips from grinding back against his palm. She shouldn't want this, but god his fingers and his words were setting her body on fire.

"You are so fucking hot, Nia. You don't know what you do to me. Every. Fucking. Day," he emphasized with each thrust.

Nia felt the power wash over her harder than it ever had. Her coach wanted her--touching her. It wasn't like he was some way older guy, but still he was in charge and an aura of power.

She felt her pussy getting wetter as his thumb rubbed her clit back and forth. She let out a soft gasp that turned into a moan. Brendan lost all control as he heard for himself the sound he had imagined. That was it.

He pulled her shorts down to her knees, yanking his zipper open. She reached down wrapping her fingers around his cock, already sleek with wetness.

"You've been thinking about this?" she tried to purr but she was unable to hide the surprise and insecurity in her voice. Her dainty hand slid up and down on in a steady rhythm.

"Since the first time you ran past me," he gritted out straining to resist how good she felt on him.

Eagerly he spun her around and bent her forward so she had to put her palms against the lockers. Brendan used one hand to hold her steady, the other guiding himself into her hard, fast, and deep. She cried out as she felt him fill her up. He was taking what he needed from her with each thrust. He pushed into her hard and circled his hips.

"That's it," he gritted out. "Take it."

She slapped the metal locker with one of her hands and pushed back against him--a moment showing him she consented.

"Fuck--yes," he moaned. "Just like that. Show me you want it."

He pounded into her, wanting to teach her, prove it to her. Rough, punishing, and unforgiving. Her body answered every thrust, and he felt her warm and wet around him, her small gasps turning him on even more. He slid his hand down between her legs and rubbed her clit--hard, perfect rhythm.

She came with a shaking, breathless moan. Legs trembling. And still, he wasn't done. Now that he had her, he was going to take her completely.

"Mine now," he whispered against her neck. "All fucking mine," he said, pushing deeper inside her.

He finished seconds later, buried deep, jaw tight, hand clutching her hip. Where the fuck had that possessive feeling come from? He held her tight for a moment in silence.

They breathed hard. He pulled out. Nia stood up slowly, adjusting her clothes, her face turned away from his. She sat heavily on the bench, her whole body vibrating. She had never been touched like that. Her body thrummed from the intensity. She had wanted that, him, but now she started to wonder what it meant. She tried to push the rush of shame that rose up. How would she ever be able to show up to practice again? He reached down almost as if to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, like a coach.

"Don't," she said quickly, grabbing her bag, and standing up, her back against the locker again.

"Nia, I..." He zipped up his pants hesitating.

"You wanted to ruin me?" she threw his words back at him. She only just managed to stop the quiver in her lips."Well, you did. Now please go."

He thought about saying something else, but he noticed the pleading in her tone. He turned and walked out, leaving her alone.

She sat on the bench, her skin cool from sweat but still on fire where he'd touched her. The feeling, the power, had rushed over her, blending with being seen in a way she hadn't been before--and she'd wanted it.

And now, she wanted to disappear.

One Week Later

It rained off and on the entire week. Both teams were scheduled for practice all week, but the games that weekend were canceled. Nia hadn't shown up to one practice. Lauryn mentioned that Heather had told her Nia had texted that she was sick. Brendan nodded imperceptibly to the information. He tapped his pen against his clipboard on the spot that had her name.

He thought about her constantly. Tasting her at random moments and remembering the feel of her lips on his skin when he showered. When he and Lauryn had sex, he remembered the feeling of being inside her. What kind of coach fucked their players? He'd never crossed that line before, and the guilt was nibbling just below the surface.

The coach in him was pissed off that she was missing so much playing time. The girls adjusted easily without her, Abigail going back to her position, and Rachel, a second-team player, going in. But Abigail didn't have Nia's skills with her stick; her passes were soft and sometimes lacked accuracy. She didn't have Nia's agility, her long legs shifting easily around others. Shit. Her long legs. Her smell as he buried his face into the crook of the back of her neck when he'd fucked her. He mentally slapped himself.

After practice on Friday, Lauryn sauntered up to him.

"Hey, want to get drinks with some of us?" She flipped her blonde hair in her signature flirty way that Brendan used to find interesting.

"Not tonight. Early morning with my dad, remember?"

Technically, it wasn't a lie. His dad had asked to see him for breakfast, but he hadn't confirmed. He just wanted to be alone, he told himself.

Lauryn's pink lips turned upside down. "Oh, right," she pretended. "Well, you don't care if I go?" She looked at him hesitantly.

"No, not at all, have fun," he tried to play along and pulled her close, kissing her forehead. "I'll call you tomorrow."

The rain had picked up when Brendan pulled away from the field. He was going home, he told himself again. He turned left instead of right out of the gate. He was just going to drive by once, he said to himself as he drove past the small dorm where Nia lived. He pulled into an open spot just a bit down the road. He was just going to knock, to see if she was okay. He hit the steering wheel hard. "Dammit." What was this girl doing to him?

Nia lay on her bed in an oversized shirt and pink undies. The shirt proudly stated "LOVERBOY" in purple vertical letters. Her hair was out and curly around her face. She'd skipped practice the whole week. She'd just barely managed to get to class as she sorted through the haze of self-loathing she'd felt since the last practice. She barely managed to keep a smile on her face and go through the motions of life with the feeling in the pit of her stomach. She let out a small, mirthless laugh, thinking about how she'd avoided being too near Brendan during huddles already. Imagining now. Standing anywhere near him was out of the question.

It wasn't like she didn't like being near him. She had felt things she'd never felt before, and part of her--a lot of her--wanted to feel it again. His lips felt soft and thick against her neck, and he had taken his time kissing her, like he wanted her to feel something. But who was she kidding? He had told her what he thought of her before the sex: a slut. It made sense that the guys would talk; she just hadn't thought of it in the moments--those moments where she felt such pleasure, so seen, so chosen.

The knock on her front door startled her. She hadn't had any visitors since she'd moved into the transfer dorm, a small building on the edge of campus. There were only four residents and four rooms, with two shared bathrooms. Nia had heard all of her dormmates head out earlier to enjoy their Friday nights.

Nia peeked through the hole in her door and felt a mix of surprise and anticipation. Brendan's dark hair was damp, lying almost flat against his head. His blue eyes sparkled with intensity, and his stubbly jaw was tight. He looked... scared? She opened the door gently, a little at a time.

He noticed that she looked fragile in her oversized shirt, and her legs looked longer. Her eyes avoided his, darting around the wall behind him. She shifted slightly when the door stood fully open, and he couldn't help but notice the slight bounce beneath her shirt.

"You skipped all week," was all he could manage to get out.

"I didn't skip. I'm sick. I told Heather." Brendan didn't like the tone of her voice. She sounded tired, empty, and a little scared.

"Well, Heather's not the coach," he couldn't stop himself.

"Brendan, what are you doing here? To lecture me about who to contact if I miss practice?"

She crossed her arms unconsciously she stepped to the side, almost inviting him in. He took the opportunity to walk further inside her room.

"I'm here because I can't stop thinking about you, and I wanted to talk to you." He moved closer to her, within touching distance.

"I thought I was the stain on the team--some slutty thing you heard whispers about in the locker room."

He shook his head, rushing in to cut her off by bringing his lips to hers, only pulling away after she finally opened her lips to his intrusive tongue.

"Stop it. You are not any of those things." He let his hand cradle her cheek and enjoyed the feel of her warm body against him.

She gave a quiet laugh, caught in the swirl of her self-loathing again, "What did you call my mouth, a party trick?"

She pushed her hands against his chest hard enough to make him take a step back as tears sprang to her eyes. He reached for her and pushed the door shut at the same time.

He couldn't stand to see her like this. She'd caught his attention because of how different and special she was--how she played so calm, steady, the way she just joined the intimidating group of white, bitchy girls and made a place for herself.

"I'm sorry. I was confused." He rested his forehead against hers.

"About what?" She steadied her breath and let her fingers twist Brendan's shirt, waiting for the answer.

"The things that happened. How I feel about you. I wanted your body, of course, but I'm not like they are. I also wanted more than that, and that was off-limits."

She tilted her head to look up at him as he flexed his grip on her hips.

"Why do you want me?" She blinked, and Brendan could feel her uncertainty. He imagined the assumed responses she probably had grown accustomed to from guys like him. He hated that she had to deal with that, and hated it even more that she had internalized it.

"Because you are someone worth knowing, and I know I only know you in certain ways," both of their minds flashed to the intense pleasure of the locker room and how they "knew" each other, "But you make me want to know more."

Nia fought the instinct to roll her eyes. He used both hands to hold her face as he leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were soft and plush against his. He took his time to kiss her, letting his tongue trace her bottom lip before pulling away.

"This is me," she shrugged, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I'm not like them," he said again. He needed her to know and to remind himself. Nia was more than the soft breasts pressed against him or the plump ass he was kneading into. She nodded, trying to believe him while the familiar, powerful feeling took over. She kissed him this time, pressing the spot between her legs against his hard length. The tiny gasp of pleasure she let out surprised them both and caused Brendan to get even harder and grab her ass tighter, rubbing her body against his.

"I want you so bad, Nia," he whispered against her lips. "I think about touching you like this." His hand slid up her bare leg, finding her slit over her panties and pushing a finger past her lower lips. "And like this." He rubbed her clit as he continued to kiss her.

Nia pulled at his shirt, wanting to feel his warmth, touch his skin against hers. He pulled back, helping her yank his shirt over his head. Before he even brought his hands back down, Nia's fingers were on his belt, pulling his pants down. He watched her chocolate hands release his cock from his briefs and wrap around his hot member. Nia felt him twitch in her hand. She let go for only a moment to fling her own shirt off, revealing her sheer pink thong and nothing else. She enthusiastically dropped to her knees, pulling Brendan into her mouth.

"Oh my god," Brendan let out, his fingers instinctively tangling into her curls. He shut his eyes, feeling the sensation of her warm, wet mouth suctioning him in. She was good. Fuck, why had he emphasized the word like that? He pushed the locker room voices from his head, pushing into Nia's mouth harder, holding her head closer. She sucked him in hard, and he had to release her head to steady himself on the wall. She let his dick pop out of her mouth, crawling the small space to reach her bed.

She turned to face him, pulling her panties off and placing her legs together on her side like a mermaid. Her round, chocolate tits bounced slightly up and down as she settled in, and her thighs pressed together, hiding what he wanted to see most. She looked like the girls from those late-night searches he'd recently started and never told anyone about--"ebony college girl" or some shit like that. The shame felt like a slap in the face. She wasn't a category. She was Nia.

"I want you," Nia said softly, acknowledging that it was true. The power feeling with Brendan was stronger than ever before. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her.

"Say it again," he said, closing the space between them as he held his dick in his hand.

"I want you," she repeated, spreeading her legs to welcome him in.

He guided his cock to her core, pushing in as his lips found hers. They both let out a moan as they finally made the most intimate connection. Nia felt like he was swallowing her up, taking her from the inside, stealing her breath.

She ripped her lips away from his, holding his back and pulling him deeper while she called out his name. He began to pump into her, keeping her body tight against his. He pinned her hands above her head, holding her steady as he drove into her, taking his pleasure.

"So fucking hot," he whispered as he continued to fuck her. Nia felt the heat tingling in her pussy when he spoke, and each time his pelvis rubbed against her clit, it pushed her to a new level. Sliding in and out of her, grinding back and forth over and over.

"Oh god, I'm going to cum," she moaned out.

Brendan could feel her pussy squeeze him as she came. He released her arms and held her hips down firmly as he began to really pound into her. She let her legs splay open, giving him full access to her most intimate part.

"Fuck," he let out in a huff, collapsing on top of her.

They lay entangled like that, both of them returning to reality. Nia twirled her fingers in the soft hair on the back of his head as his breathing slowed. He pulled out of her slowly and turned so that they could both just fit on her twin bed. He rested his hand on her lower belly, his eyes searching her face.

"You have to come back to practice." He kissed her ear.

"How?" She gave a half-snort laugh at his ridiculous suggestion.

"We need you on the field." She turned to look at him.

"And we just act like nothing happened? You go back to your girlfriend..."

"No." He grabbed her waist, pulling her closer. "I'm going to end that." He hadn't been sure about that until he said it. He could pretend to just be Nia's coach, but he couldn't treat her like a side chick.

"Ok." Nia felt the swirl of being chosen, but then it ebbed. "So then we pretend at practice?"

"This is my first time sleeping with a player, so I'm not sure. But I know this"--he moved to position himself on top of her--"I want you. I want to be inside you every day. I think about it all the damn time." He wiggled his hips, and she could feel his cock starting to come to life. "I want to kiss your lips, and like I said, I want to know you." His eyes search her face.

Nia took in this man on top of her, with his dick between her legs. He looked vulnerable. Sexy. She'd never been intimate like this with a man. She had chased it, and now, of all people, her coach was the one to see her. If she had to pretend at practice, she could do that. She nodded at him, and he kissed her hard.

"You're mine now, and I don't share." He held her gaze and they both understood what he was alluding to. "Let them talk. I'm the one that's inside you now." He pressed his now-hard cock against her entrance, pushing the tip of his dick inside her.

Nia's head jerked slightly back from the pleasure. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Brendan couldn't believe he was hard again already. What was she doing to him? he wondered, as he pushed all the way inside, looking down at his light tan skin meeting her brown skin and watching as he pulled out, glistening with her juices, only to push back in again. He wouldn't last very long, not this time, not with her.

"I'm yours. Fuck me, Brendan," she whispered in his ear, and he almost came right then from how hot her submission felt to him. His hips began pistoning in and out of her, the sound of their slippery skin filling the room. He came with a roar, holding her close until they both were breathing quietly.

"I don't want to, but I should go. I can't risk someone seeing me." He began to get dressed as Nia pulled her comforter from the ground and covered some of her nakedness. She couldn't think of what to say when he turned toward her, fully clothed.

"I'll take care of things with Lauryn." He leaned down, grabbing the back of her neck and placing a hard kiss against her lips. Nia nodded but still couldn't find any words as the door closed behind him. She turned to face the wall, his smell still thick in the air she closed her eyes.

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