Chapter Five
From the moment Jelani pointed out that the ladies, my ladies , are at the same club as us, I knew my night wouldn’t have a shot in hell at being as relaxing as I’d hoped.
I’ve had so much pent-up energy with all the changes wearing down on me, the rugby season in full swing, coaching a team that I have no right to be involved with, and the upcoming charity event. I’d been hoping to have a couple beers, chat with my friends and let loose for the night.
But when I saw Chelsea, Letty, and Adhira sauntering out onto the dance floor, I had two immediate responses.
The first was that I should start praying to a higher power to convince the guys to leave so I don’t have to watch my teammates flirt shamelessly, and the second was to look for her.
I knew where to find her, tucked away in a booth, sipping on a martini.
As the night continued and my hopes of leaving here soon died, so had my resolve.
I’ve been peering over my shoulder to steal glances at Elise, my jaw aching from grinding my teeth together.
A woman as stunning and off limits as her shouldn’t have tits I could bury my face in and an ass I’d love to take a bite out of.
It’s wrong of me to even think these things, but I have never been considered the moral one of any group.
That’s precisely how Carlos found his way into the absolute mess I’d created for him, and if I value my sanity, I’ll keep my eyes trained anywhere but at her.
It’s wonderful to know that despite my little pep talk about responsibility, I’m still finding myself watching over her.
And after she’d finished her third drink, my brain glitched and my legs took over, dragging me toward her the moment the bartender personally came to ask her if she wanted something else.
“Would you like another round?” he asks her, his voice husky.
“No, thanks, I’ve had enough,” she tells him, putting a hand up to emphasise her words. “Could I get a water please?” The buzzing in my skull starts to settle. At least she knows she’s being irresponsible. And so am I for being here at all.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine as he heads back to the bar, unfazed by her lack of interest in him.
Fire blazes in her baby blues. “What do you want?” she asks with a groan, straightening her spine. Well, hello to you too, princess.
I slide into the seat beside her, but she stays rooted in place, refusing to budge.
So, I nudge her over a foot with my thigh to make room for myself.
As Mamí would say, “No one is going to make space for you in this world; you need to do it yourself.” Though I’m not sure a seat in a booth beside a woman over a decade younger than me is what she’d meant.
Elise’s eyes narrow, shooting daggers straight through me. Something unrecognisable fizzles inside me at her attitude, and I push it back down, unwilling to entertain the feeling.
“Don’t you think this is a tad inappropriate? You know,” she says, sweeping her long, blue-black hair over her shoulder, “given how our previous coach was dismissed?” She’s taunting me, and far be it for me not to play ball.
“I’m having a conversation with you, or trying to anyway,” I grumble. “Not shoving my dick down your throat, Elise.”
Her eyes widen, and a sly smile spreads across her plump pink lips.
This woman is pure trouble. She shifts to face me, and the outside of her thigh slides against mine; the subtle movement has my body acutely aware of every inch of hers.
“I think we could make that dream a reality,” she purrs, leaning further into my personal space.
Her breath tickles my ear as she whispers, “ Coach .”
I grab her wrist, holding the hand that she’s just placed on my thigh from sliding up, feeling how affected I am by her.
I hate that I’m so attracted to her. I haven’t slept with anyone in a long while, mostly because everyone I’ve been with either wants more than I have to offer, or they don’t like it as rough as I do.
I’m not a man who’s capable of “making love”, and I’ve never claimed to be.
Sex is a physical release, not a way to grow closer to my partner, and after several rounds of trial and error with both men and women, sometimes both at the same time, I’m resigned to the idea that I probably won’t find anyone who matches my needs without wanting a switch or looking for an emotional attachment that I’ll never be able to offer.
This leather-clad tyrant seated beside me has me thinking she might just be the exception to that rule, and I should never ever find out if that’s true.
“Quit fooling around, Elise,” I grunt out, dropping her hand into her lap. My gaze sweeps over the table for anything interesting I can use to keep my mind occupied, landing on her mobile sitting face up with a message to her father.
Her hand strikes at the same time my does, snatching the phone a split second before I can, but I’m not afraid to use my sheer size to my advantage. I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman.
“Give me the phone, Elise,” I say, holding her fist in mine, our heated gazes just inches apart.
“It’s my phone, Rafael. Stop acting like a brute,” she hisses. A heady combination of her naturally sweet aroma and the vodka she’s consumed has my mind whirling.
“I saw my name on your screen. I should be allowed to know what you’re saying about me,” I grit out, acting like an absolute ogre with no manners in sight.
Her eyes flash with something, an icy look crossing her face when I tug harder.
She lets go at the same moment, sending me sideways with her mobile clutched in my hand.
I huff out a breath, my nostrils flaring with annoyance as I straighten in my seat, my eyes catching on Elise’s lips as the corners of her mouth twitch with amusement.
“What are you so bent out of shape about? You said you wanted my phone.” She shrugs. “Now you have it.” Her words act as a necessary reminder that I should be looking at her messages and ensuring she hasn’t said anything that’ll have me kicked off my own team.
I peer down at the message thread between her and her dad, my brows shooting up at what I find. I hate that I’m making myself so easy for her to read, but the contents of these texts are not what I’d imagined.
In our tussle, the message thread has moved up much earlier in their conversation than it should have, and I intend to read every word.
Papa Chéri
Are you studying for your exam?
Not quite.
Papa Chéri
And why is that?
Because I’m 21 and VERY busy making mistakes I can learn from. Obviously.
Papa Chéri
As long as you’re being safe, that’s all that matters.
Oh, is that so? Last I checked I had a new babysitter.
My brows pinch as I read. She thinks I’m babysitting her? I guess it does seem like I am, given our current predicament.
Papa Chéri
I see my favourite trouble maker is bringing the drama this evening.
Tell me I’m wrong.
Papa Chéri
You’re wrong.
You sure about that?
Papa Chéri
Mon petite chou… YES! I’m sure! Rafael isn’t there to babysit you, he’s there to make sure you’re able to compete and have everything you want and deserve.
If you say so.
Papa Chéri
I do. Now, give me the gossip. Is his grumpy arse being good to you ladies?
My chest tightens, stomach threatening to bottom out as I read further, fear gripping me at the thought that she might have told him what an ass I’ve been. When I read through the next several strings of messages, I realise that couldn’t have been further from what she’s said.
Yes. He’s a great coach and I think we’re going to go a long way with him. I have high hopes for the season.
Papa Chéri
Well, that certainly was anticlimactic. Tell me how you really feel…
What I said is true, but he’s an asshole and someone should get him to the hospital quickly to remove the three metre steel rod from his arse.
Papa Chéri
I tried, but they said there was nothing more they could do. It was a very sad day for everyone indeed.
I refuse to laugh at the message, but the unfamiliar feeling bubbles in my chest, disappearing as quickly as it arrived. I notice a long pause between the last message he sent and the next one, her grammar giving her away
At lest yu trued
Papa Chéri
Are you having a stroke or are you drunk?
Thee ladder
later
U knw what mean
Papa Chéri
Tell me where you’re at and I can come get you. I don’t want someone taking advantage of you.
Im fin
I’m fine. food thn home
Papa Chéri
Are the girls with you?
Yes coach 2
I groan loudly, scrubbing a hand down my face. It’s been one day, and she’s already causing trouble for me.
Papa Chéri
I’m sorry, what was that?
Are you saying Rafael is too?!
Elise, please answer me.
I am but an old man with a weary soul and a daughter who’s trying to KILL me. Please tell me where you are.
And confirm that my team captain isn’t snogging you!
I was mostly kidding but now I’m not. Please just tell me you’re safe.
I hand her phone back to her, tilting my head at the messages. “You better respond before he files a missing person report.”
Her glacier-blue eyes roam over the screen, rolling at a few of her dad’s overprotective messages, before she types out a quick message that I don’t get to see, and then she turns her body away, shielding her phone from me.
When she’s finished, she smacks the mobile down on the sticky counter and turns to face me. “Are you happy now?” she asks through gritted teeth.
“Not remotely, though I never am,” I say, the admission shocking me. With any luck, she won’t remember this tomorrow, but frankly, she seems to have made a full recovery. She’ll probably remember every word of this conversation.
She searches my face, her lips pinched together. The attention leaves me feeling exposed.
“Let’s get something clear, shall we?” she asks, a sharp brow arched in question.
I don’t have a chance to respond before she's forcefully shoving me out of the seat, rolling her eyes at me. “You’re my interim coach, not my daddy. Don’t keep tabs on me, and definitely don’t tell my father about anything I do outside of practice.”
I’m too stunned to say anything as she heads out onto the dance floor, and for the first time tonight, I get the full view of her outfit.
Tight black leather pants hug her every curve.
Her round ass bounces as she struts away, and her waist is cinched by a corset that I’d love to tear off with my fucking teeth.
If she were anyone else in this club, I just might.
My dick stands at attention for her, the combination of the venom in her words and the skintight outfit sending my body into a frenzy.
Nakoa catches my attention as he heads over to me, dragging me from my ungentlemanly thoughts. “You ready to get out of here? I hear Coach’s kid is a handful, and I’d rather not be a part of that,” he explains.
“Yep, good call,” I answer, standing and adjusting myself in my pants before gathering up the guys and heading out of the packed club.
I have no explanation for why I drove back to the club after dropping my teammates off at home.
I spoke to the bouncer to make sure they took an Uber home before finally making it home and crashing with Mrs. Purrito sitting like a comforting weighted blanket on my chest, her thunderous purrs lulling me to sleep.