Tackle (Bad Boy Billionaire Sports Romance)



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."

"Nothing else?" he asks. I hear male voices in the background, loud and obnoxious. Obviously, his teammates.

I look around the hallway, even though I already know it's empty. "Yeah." I drop my voice to a whisper. "I told him that you gave me a bouquet of dicks and offered me yours."

Colton laughs, a deep warm sound that makes me unable to keep from smiling, despite the fact that he's totally annoying. "Nice," he says. "Where are you exactly?"

"Standing in a hallway … in the middle of a bunch of offices," I describe to him. "I think I'm lost. Tell me how to get out of here."

I hear the voices fade into the background and it's quiet. Colton's voice is low in the phone. "Ask me what I thought about when I used your gift."

My breath catches in my throat. "I'm not asking you that," I whisper. "I'll find my own way out of here."

"I'll tell you anyway. I thought about you, spread out on my bed –"

"I'm hanging up." I warn him before he keeps going and I'm too turned on to make it through the tutoring session.

Colton laughs. "You're no fun. I'll give you directions out."

I exhale with relief – not at the offer to give me directions, but at the fact that he's no longer describing what he wants to do with me. "Good. Direct away."