Breakaway: A Coach’s Daughter College Sports Romance (Beyond the Play)

WHEN WE GET to Cooper’s place, it becomes apparent immediately that we made the right call by getting two pizzas. Izzy disappears upstairs with a couple slices of veggie and a glass of wine, muttering something about her English paper, and Cooper and Sebastian split the meat pizza in two. I nibble on a slice, watching them devour the food. Apparently, I’m hanging out with a pair of starved wild animals, not boys. We’re in a surprisingly modern kitchen; the gold-plated hardware on the cabinets feels like Izzy’s doing, since in the short time I’ve known her, I’ve gotten the sense that glamour is her middle name. It opens into an area big enough for the table we’re sitting at. The layout is like my dad’s house, only a couple blocks over, but work-related paraphernalia perpetually covers his kitchen table, whereas a vase of drooping flowers and a painted bong that, according to Sebastian, came with the house, decorate Cooper’s.

I know our plan includes doing homework first, and that we really should, but I can’t stop thinking about how much I’d like to slide into his lap and kiss him, pizza breath and all. We haven’t gotten any further down The List, despite hooking up right and left, but I’d like to get going on it. I’m not going to magically feel safe having vaginal sex again if I don’t try anything else first.

“I’m just saying,” Sebastian says as he sets down his now-empty beer; they’ve been chatting about football while I’ve been staring, “if they can get past Dallas, they’ll be golden.”

Cooper snorts. “You say that like it’s easy. They’re chasing the Cowboys and James knows it, however fast he’s been improving.” He grabs another slice of pizza, looking at me. “You watch football, Red?”

“Not really. My dad and I are diehard Lightning fans, though.”

He makes a face. “Not the Coyotes? I thought you were from Arizona.”

“Dad worked on the Lightning staff before focusing on college coaching.”

“Or maybe you just like those back-to-back Stanley Cups.”

“Maybe it’s that I like the players. Pat Maroon has a spectacular beard.”

Cooper’s mouth drops open. “And I don’t?”

I just smile, pretending to ponder it deeply as I tap my nail against my chin. “Let’s see. Do you root for the Islanders or Rangers? You’re from Long Island, it can’t be the Sabres.”

“Choose wisely, Red. Our next hookup depends upon it.”

“Oh yeah?” I lean over the table, getting close enough we could kiss, but stopping just before our lips brush. It’s fun to flirt when it means nothing; there’s no pressure when I know we’re just friends. It’s good practice in seduction, anyway. “What are you going to do?”

“Think about that list of yours,” he murmurs into my ear. I shiver at the feel of his warm breath on my skin. “Keep teasing and I’ll have to punish you. I can think of two things that would be suitable for slander.”

Sebastian clears his throat. “I’m right fucking here.”

Cooper pecks me on the mouth before leaning back. His eyes are dark, like he really would pull me over his lap and spank me here in the kitchen. I press my thighs together, trying and failing not to feel the swoop of desire low in my belly. He glances at his brother. “Sorry, Sebby. We’re engaging in some serious sex coaching here.”

“Because that’s such a smart idea,” Sebastian says dryly.

“Don’t worry, she already promised not to fall in love with me.”

I roll my eyes as I hit his shoulder. “As if.”

“Can’t imagine it, anyway.” Sebastian grabs another beer from the fridge. “Have fun, kids. Use protection.”

As he leaves, Cooper calls, “Be glad I’m like this instead of a raging bitch! I’ve been cured!”

“Did he call you that?”

“Pretty much.” He leans back in his chair, draping his arm over the back. “So, what’ll it be?”

“Islanders,” I say. “Isn’t Matt Barzal so dreamy?” I know it’s wrong; I noticed the Rangers sticker on his truck. But it’s too fun not to tease, especially when he drags me into his lap—and then over his shoulder, like he’s hauling a sack of flour.

“Cooper!” I shriek, kicking at him. He steadies me by palming my ass, then pinching it, making me squeal. His laughter rumbles in his chest as he carries me upstairs. I’m flushing for half a dozen reasons, but at the top of the list is the fact that both his siblings are home, and while I only saw Izzy for five seconds, Sebastian knows what we’re about to be up to. Cooper is clearly unrepentant, calling down to his brother to save him some pizza for later, and I think Sebastian yells something back, but I’m too distracted to listen.

He pushes one of the upstairs doors open, then flicks a light switch. I crane my neck around, wanting to see what his bedroom looks like, but instead of setting me on my feet like a normal person so I can check out the surroundings, he strides to the bed and throws me down. I bounce, laughing, as he joins me, and then we’re kissing, and maybe this ought to feel weird or awkward, but I don’t register a thing except that delicious tingle between my legs and the weight of Cooper’s body over mine.

Eventually, he pulls back. His eyes are dancing, and a smirk plays across his lips. “You noticed the sticker on my truck.”

“Obviously.”

“You’re such a little brat.”

“So punish me,” I say. I undo my braid, shaking my long hair over my shoulders. “You promised me lessons. I’m ready for a new assignment.”

“I’m impressed, Red,” he says as he drags me close, running his hand down my back and squeezing my bottom. “You’re bold.”

I gasp as his fingernails dig into my ass through my leggings. I’ve imagined being spanked before, and it’s always turned me on; I hope it does the same for me in real life. He pulls down the neckline of my sweater and sucks a hickey into my skin low enough no one will know about it but us. I grind against his lap in return, pleased when it makes him groan and kiss my mouth again. We go at it until we’re both breathless, gasping for air. He tugs on my loose hair, pressing another hard kiss to my lips before pulling back. He looks me in the eye, and, apparently liking what he sees, tugs off my sweater entirely. I take off my bralette, just pulling it over my head and tossing it onto the floor, and he abruptly buries his face in my tits as he drags down my leggings and panties. Between his rough fingers pinching one of my nipples and his mouth nearly engulfing my other breast, I feel overwhelmed—but that pales in comparison to the heat that courses through me when he puts me over his lap, naked, my bottom in the air.

I whine, burying my face against his still-clothed thigh. All his clothes are on, even his belt, and I’m completely bare, laid out for him like a buffet. He strokes a hand down my bare back, all the way to my ass, and squeezes.

“Freckles here, too,” he says, a note of amusement in his tone.

I bite down on his thigh in recompense. He doesn’t even do me the solid of pretending it hurts. “How about ten, Penny? That ought to be enough. Don’t want to overwhelm you too much.”

He uses my real name so infrequently that I’m distracted for a moment, but then he digs his fingers into my ass. “Sweetheart?”

“Yes. Cooper…” I swallow down the lump in my throat. I don’t use his first name very often either.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he says, somehow catching the drift of my unspoken question; I’m so turned on I know I’m probably staining his jeans, but I don’t care. I’m shaking with anticipation. “Count for me. If I take it too far, tell me and I’ll stop right away.”

His voice has taken on a low, soothing tone. He strokes my skin for a moment more before issuing the first slap. It’s not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to sting. I gasp, kicking my feet a little; he holds me in place with a strong hand on my back. “Count,” he prompts.

My voice wobbles with unexpected emotion. “One.”

“Good girl.” He smacks me again, his open palm hitting the other cheek this time. I get out the count faster, so he moves back to the other side, and we go on like that all the way to seven, him murmuring praise all the while.

I knew it would turn me on, both the sharp little blooms of pain and the position, the knowledge that he has me caught and put on display for his eyes alone, but I’m riding a tidal wave of emotion, too, my eyes burning as I struggle to keep my breathing even. He smacks me lower, at the crease of my thigh, and I cry out before I can tamp my tongue.

“You’re looking so pretty and pink like this,” he says, bending to kiss the top of my spine as I stutter out the count. “Giving yourself to me, being my good fucking girl.”

“Cooper,” I say, my voice strangled; it’s that or call him something that I’m terrified would ruin the mood entirely.

He spreads my cheeks, no doubt giving him a glimpse of my hole, and slaps right over it. The tips of his fingers catch my cunt, and I moan, mouthing at his thigh again. He presses his hand there, getting his fingers slick, and finishes the last three smacks that way: his hand wet, marking my skin in more ways than one. Half of me wants him to keep going, to push me until I’m nothing but trembling goo, but I’m pressing down against his lap like the slightest bit of friction will help ease my aching core, and I nearly sob with relief when he drags me into a kiss, one hand tangled in my hair, the other patting my reddened, stinging bottom. He presses a fast kiss to my cheek.

“Gorgeous girl,” he murmurs. “So good and perfect for me.”

He moves his hand between my legs, running his fingers over my pussy. I moan aloud at even that slight brush, wishing he would just press down on my clit until I see stars, but he uses his wet fingertips to play with my nipples, each a stiff little bud. “I’d ask if you enjoyed it, but I have my answer right here.”

“I need more,” I say, arching into his grip. “Please, anything.”

He nips at my lip as he kisses me. “My cock is going to fill you up so perfectly.”