TackledP: A Sports Romance(23)

I throw a decorative pillow at Sable.

Would Colton actually use the pocket pussy? An image of him sliding it onto his hard cock flashes into my head and I have to force it away. Why the hell am I thinking about Colton jerking off?

I shift uncomfortably on the sofa because of the tingle that shoots through me at the thought. Do not think about Colton jerking off. It's a funny gag gift. That's all it is. Getting him back for those stupid dick lollipops.



* * *



I'm running late, taking the steps to the academic center two at a time. The assistant coach wants a "status update" on Colton. I guess he wants to personally make sure Colton is progressing with tutoring.

I'm totally nervous about meeting with the assistant coach. He's slightly frightening, and if he doesn't think Colton is progressing, I'm probably fired. Which would suck big-time.

And if he found out I sent my student a pocket pussy? I can't even begin to imagine.

My phone vibrates in my bag. I scramble for it as I walk down the corridor toward the athletic center. This place is a freaking maze. I can't remember where Coach Walker’s office is.

I slide my finger across the phone screen as I crane my neck to get a look around the corner.

Hilarious gift, Teach. I used it last night.



It's followed up with a second text:

Ask me what I thought about



I push the button on the side of the phone and shove it back in my bag, heat rising to my face. What Colton thought about while he jerked off into my gift is literally the last thing on earth I need to be thinking about right now when I'm supposed to meet with his coach to impress him with how well Colton is doing in his classes.

"You." Coach Walker is rounding the corner. "Tutor. Status update. You need to walk and talk with me."

He doesn't wait for a response, taking long strides down the hallway, forcing me to pick up my pace. He unlocks his office door and circles around his massive desk, rummaging through drawers. "Let's have it," he orders, his face buried in the bottom drawer of his desk. "Status. Colton King."

"Right," I say, forcing an air of authority into my tone that I definitely do not feel right now. I feel more like a child in the principal's office being chastised for an infraction. "Colton King. He's attending tutoring sessions."

And showing up at my house.

"He's actually doing the work during sessions?" the coach asks. "He can be… difficult to handle. He's been focused, not inappropriate?"

"What? Inappropriate?" I ask. I think my voice just jumped an octave.

"Yes," the coach says, pulling out a folder and putting it in the middle of his desk. "Inappropriate. Getting you sidetracked during the sessions, anything like that. These players have been warned about inappropriate behavior. They're there to study."

A mental picture flashes of Colton holding a bouquet of dick lollipops and I swallow hard.

"Inappropriate?" I repeat, hoping I look like I'm trying to recollect inappropriate behavior and coming up short. "Nope. Nothing inappropriate. Perfect gentleman."

The coach nods. "Glad to hear it."

"He got a B on a history paper. It was just a one-page reaction paper, nothing major but it’s progress." I blurt out the words before he can ask, feeling slightly defensive and pretty nervous. I tell myself to stop babbling. "And he's been studying. Outside of sessions. He's working hard."

I hope.

The assistant coach nods. "Great. Good talk. Keep me posted."

End of conversation.

He opens a door on the far side of his office. When he looks back at me, it's like he expects me to be gone already. "The door's right behind you," he says.

Of course.

Outside in the hallway, I look around. Okay, I came down this hall and to the left… damn it, this place is a maze. I'm going to be lost in here and late for tutoring Colton.

My phone vibrates in my bag and I grab it.

No response? Not a good sport, Teach. I'm running late for our session, btw.



I pause to text him back.

Good, because I'm lost in the maze of hallways in your building.



My phone vibrates again.

Where are you?



I stop and text him.

In the athletic center. I was talking to your coach.



The phone rings almost immediately. It’s Colton.

"Why were you talking to Coach?" he asks.

No hello, nothing. Straight to the point.

"I guess it was your assistant coach or whatever," I say, distracted as I wander down the hall past a bunch of offices. "Coach Walker. I had to give him an update on your progress."

"How am I progressing, Teach?" he asks. God, he can make the most innocent or mundane of things sound like they're just laced with innuendo.

"I told you to stop calling me that." Right turn here, I think… or was it left? "I told him you were attending tutoring sessions and doing fine."