As I sat in the "Coach's" office waiting for him to finish his phone call with the Dean, I tried to concentrate on my breathing. I also fished my cell phone out of my pocket and reread my best friend Kristy's text.
"Hey, I know you're off today but our new football coach got in a car accident last night and since he's already recovering from rotator cuff surgery, can you stop by and work on him? He's free at 3:00."
I had simply responded with, "Sure!" Kristy had been my best friend since the first day of kindergarten, over 23 years. She was the Dean's assistant and often sent coaching staff or students my way.
My current text to her did not mince words: "You are fucking dead to me."
"Nanc!" the door flung open and Bill filled the frame. "I'm so glad you had time for me. So great to see you!"
"I...uh..." I stumbled. I was always at a loss for words with him.
"I'm leaving," his receptionist cut off my rambling. "See you on Monday."
Damnit, I thought. Why hadn't she left five minutes earlier? When I had seen Bill through the window, I could have bolted and he would have never known I was there.
"Thanks, Mary!" Bill called after her. "Have a great weekend."
He walked towards me; his huge arms outstretched. As I stood, I remembered those arms around me and I trembled. I also remembered why I was here and I thrust out my hand. He looked down at it like I was presenting him with a foreign object.
"Your arm," I reminded him.
"C'mere," he insisted, grabbing my hand and tugging me against his chest. He squatted, snaking his one arm around my waist and lifting me right off my feet, spinning me in a circle. Just like old times.
My arms instinctively went around him, my fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. Those shoulders that I had spent my college years dreaming about, looming over top of me as he took me, as he pounded me hard into the mattress, making me his. My breasts tightened against his wall of chest muscle and just as I worried about him feeling my hard nipples, my pussy betrayed me by puddling.
God...he was still so fucking huge, so solid, so strong. The past six years had certainly been kind to his physique. I had continued to dream about him all these years and I never imagined I'd see him again, let alone be wrapped up in the warmth of his bear hug.
"Oh, baby, I missed this," he whispered into my neck before giving me one tight squeeze and setting me back on my feet. I kept my head ducked to avoid his gaze and he lifted one hand to push my hair behind my ear. "I might have always said it was a ritual but that was just my excuse to get my hands on you."
I grinned and let out a nervous laugh, tucking my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. As I looked down, I realized I was thrusting my breasts out and I quickly jerked my hands to the front of me, awkwardly ringing them together. I side-stepped him, walking towards the windows that overlooked the football field.
"I've never been in this office," I croaked. "You have a nice view."
"Yeah," he came up behind me, reaching over my shoulder to open the blinds wider. "Whenever Coach Walker had me in here, all I could think about was getting out there."
I tensed and he wrapped his free arm across my chest, under my neck, pulling me back against him.
"Relax, little one," he told me. "I've never understood why I make you so nervous. That always upset me."
"I...I never said you make me nervous," I whimpered.
"You didn't have to," he chuckled.
I brought my hands up to hold onto his forearm. God, he was warm, the muscles bulging from his arm. He rested his chin on the top of my head. I felt and heard him take a deep breath.
"Vanilla and coconut," he moaned.
"What?" I asked.
"The scent of you," he told me, brushing his mouth and nose over the crown of my head. "I never forgot it. Whenever I would get a whiff of either, I thought of you. But I never smelled them combined, other than on you."
My fingers tightened on him, my nails no doubt making crescent moons in his skin, and I leaned back into him, my head dropping onto his shoulder.
Bill's mouth moved to my temple, his lips singeing my skin. His arm squeezed me tight and he stepped closer to me until my back was completely flush against the front of him. I don't know how long we stood like that but it was long enough to feel myself melting, to feel him growing hard against my back.
"This is all I ever wa..." he began, and I stepped forward, pulling away from him.
"K-Kr-Kristy," I stuttered, "mentioned...she mentioned you hurt your arm."
I stood ramrod straight in front of the window, waiting for him to respond.
"Nanc," he came to stand at my side. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you, to overwhelm you."
"It's okay," I dropped my head, "I just...I don't...I mean, I'm not used to..."
"Not used to what?" he asked. "Being held? Cause I don't believe that for a minute."
I moved away from him, pacing around the small office before finally perching on the edge of one of the chairs in front of his desk. His eyes bore into me, watching each one of my movements. I took a deep breath to compose myself before starting again.
"Kristy said you got in a car accident last night and are in the midst of recovering from rotator cuff surgery," I reviewed. "What kind of pain are you experiencing now? Have you been seeing a physical therapist?"
"I did," Bill answered as he came around to the front of his desk. He leaned back against it, his crotch at my eye level. His jeans were pulled taut against him, stretching over a very impressive bulge, one I had just run away from.
"Did?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from his package.
"After graduation, I got an assistant coaching job in Milwaukee. That's where I've been living for the past six years. I had surgery nine months ago and was in therapy for a few months. I've regularly kept up with the exercises but moving, unpacking and now a car accident all within a week's time seems to have aggravated the area," he explained.
"I'm a massage therapist, not a physical therapist. Maybe you'd be better off..."
"I know the difference," he cut me off, "and I trust you. The area is tight. I worked it with bands and a pulley last night and again this morning to avoid stiffening but I think it needs deep tissue work."
"I don't know if Kristy told you but I am currently renting a room at a massage studio about 30 minutes away while renovating the basement at my house. I don't have availability at the studio until Tuesday," I told him.
"You bought a home nearby?" Bill asked.
"I'm in my childhood home. Mom and Dad retired early to Florida," I said.
"Wait...you're still on Pear Street?" he asked. "You're my neighbor. I not only took Coach's job, I rent his house from him. He went to stay in Utah with his sister. She was recently diagnosed with cancer and beginning treatment."
He was living around the corner from me. Murph lived behind me and Coach's old house was located across the street from him.
"Oh..." I began.
"Kristy told me that you worked on her at your house a couple weeks ago. That'll work for me. I don't need anywhere fancy," he shrugged. "Is that doable? I'll be here all day and until after 8 on Tuesday with practice so I won't have time then."