The Coach

I walked over to my table of lotions and oils.

"Is the balm okay or do you want me to switch to something else?" I asked. "My apologies for not asking your preference earlier."

"I would have preferred your naked hands, Nanc," he said.

I walked back towards him, taking in the sight of him lying flat on the table. My God, he was beautiful. His body was literally like a work of art. He was watching me. He was always watching me. I remembered feeling that way in school but told myself it was my imagination, wishful thinking that my college crush, the star football hunk, would be checking me out.

I pulled his arm away from his body and began massaging him again.

"The way I'm talking to you, the way I'm looking at you...that's what all men want to say to you, that's how all men look at you. That's why I'm worried about you being alone here," he revisited, his eyes continuing to roam over me.

"I'm a big girl, Bill, and please believe me, men don't line up to flirt with me," I snickered.

"I didn't mean to imply that you're weak, Nanc, but you have always been in complete denial about how beautiful you are," he sighed. "I've never forgiven myself for that."

"What are you talking about?" I asked him, tucking his arm at his side before slowing lifting it up and back. I positioned myself closer to his head to massage the underside of his arm.

"For four years, all I wanted was you and I never managed to make you feel beautiful," he looked up at me when my hands stilled on him.

"That wasn't...that's wasn't your responsibility. I'm confident in many aspects of my life but you're right...I don't feel beautiful. And I'm okay with that. Who wants to be considered conceited? I have always been the outcast with my flaming redhead, freckles, weight..." I trailed off.

"All those things are part of your beauty," he assured me, lifting his right arm and snaking it around me, pulling my belly into the top of his head. His hand squeezed my lower back, dropping slowly to my hip.

My hands stilled on him as he touched me. His eyes were hidden by my breasts. I was so very grateful he couldn't see my face as I struggled to breathe. I swear I saw his jeans begin to rise below his belt.

"I told you that I wanted you for four years and you completely ignored me, Nanc." he tightened his arm around me.

"Bill, you didn't..." I breathed.

Somehow, he managed to pull me to the side of the table as he sat up, tugging me between his legs.

"You're right. I didn't want you for four years. I've wanted you for 10 years," he corrected himself. "I've never stopped thinking about you."

He pulled me tighter into his embrace. My breasts were pressed to his chest, straining against the neckline of my tank top. He looked down at my décolletage and groaned. His dark chocolate eyes smoldered as he glanced up at me before dropping his head. His mouth nuzzled me, his lips opening over the sensitive, freckled skin of my chest. His tongue licked me up and down in my cleavage and I envisioned him doing the same thing to my pussy lips. I moaned in pleasure, my arms wrapping tight around his neck. His hands went to my ass and he cupped me, grinding his cock into me. If he hadn't been holding me tight, I would have fallen.

"Mmm..." he trailed his mouth and tongue all over me, from my cleavage to my neck to my ears and back down again. My head dropped back on my shoulders giving him full access. His fingers continued to dig into my ass as his cock pulsed between us. My hands moved to his head and I massaged his bald scalp, loving the feel of him under my fingertips.

"Feel what you do to me, baby? That's what you've always done to me. My cock has always been so damn hard for you," he panted.

"Nancy!" I heard someone yell, snapping me out of the trance that Bill had put me under. "You downstairs, hon?"

Bill and I froze at the same time.

"Murph," we said in unison and laughed.

I pulled away from him, grateful that he gently held on to me until I found my footing.

"You might wanna..." he gestured toward my heaving breasts.

Mr. Murphy might be older but his eyesight was just fine. I pulled my cardigan tight around me before spinning on my heel and heading to the door, hoping to catch him before he attempted to head down the stairs. Not only did he have a bad hip but I didn't want him to see Bill undressed.

"Coming, Mr. Murphy!" I hollered before I even got to the door. I was out the door and heading up the stairs before he could attempt to make his way down.

"Hey hon," he greeted me. "A pretty big Amazon box is on my porch waiting for you. Carl dropped it off earlier so it wasn't sitting out in the open on yours."

Carl was the UPS driver and had been for years. We lived in a very safe area but he was always cautious and he knew how very much Mr. Murphy appreciated the company and their chats.

"Oh, great. I'll come over..." I began.

"I'll get it," Bill came up the stairs behind me.

"Hey Bill, I didn't know you were down there," Murph said.

"How you doing, Sir?" he asked, stopping to shake his hand. "Nancy was visiting Kristy at the school today and mentioned that she's setting up her basement as a work area. I volunteered to help with the painting so I came over to check out what she's done with the place so far."

He so easily explained his presence, wanting to protect me from any speculation. He straightened to his full height, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, a stance that almost dared me to challenge him. His biceps looked massive and I remembered my hands on him, missing his warmth and strength.

"I saw you already have a new truck," Murph said to Bill.

"Someone hit me last night when I was leaving the grocery," Bill explained. "That's a rental. Mine should be all fixed up in about a week."

"You look good and that's all that's important," Murph said.

"Banged up my bicep but it will hopefully be okay in a few days," Bill shrugged.

"Well, if you're going to be painting for Nancy, maybe she can work on the area for you. That's what we did in my day...trade. Tit for tat, ya know?" he rocked on his heels.

"Not a bad idea, Mr. Murph," Bill clapped him on his back. "I don't know why I didn't think of it myself. I'll go grab that box for you, Nanc. Be right back."

"That Bill has always been a nice kid," Murph said when Bill walked away. "He used to cut my grass when you kids were in school, remember?"

Oh, I remembered. I used to hide behind my curtain and peek out the window at him.

"He offered to begin again now that he's back but I told him that I already pay the Carlton kid," he said. "Maybe he could cut yours. I'm glad he's helping with the painting. I worry about you back here all by yourself."

My Dad and Murph had both taught at the college and been friends for years. Since my parents moved, Murph checked in on me frequently. He was truly like an uncle.

"I'm okay," I told him. "I'm not above asking for help if I need it. I promise."

He looked at me skeptically. I know he was biting his tongue, trying not to remind me that he had known me all of my 28 years.

Bill cut through the grass carrying a massive box. It was no struggle for him at all.

"Good to have some muscle in the neighborhood," Murph laughed.

"You want this downstairs, Nanc?" he grinned at the both of us.

"Yes, please and thank you," I said to him as he passed.

"Well, I'll leave you kids be..." Murph started to back away.

"Actually," I cut him off. "Give me a minute. I'll be right back."

I hadn't unlocked the front or back door yet when I drove up to meet Bill so I made my way back into the basement. Bill watched me make a beeline for the interior stairs and came to stand at the bottom of them.

"What are you...?" he asked before cursing. "I knew it! You don't have a lock on that damn door!"

"Go keep Murph company! I'll be back out in two minutes," I told him.

"Nanc..." he headed up the stairs.

"Go!" I yelled at him. "This is not something that you're going to fix right this second."

I had baked late last night and whenever I baked, I always packed up sweets for Murph. I had completely forgotten about them when I encountered the distraction that is Bill. I pulled down a storage container that I knew had an airtight lid and would keep stuff fresh for him. I filled it to the brim before heading back to them.

As I walked back up from the basement, Murph glanced over at me and erupted in laughter.

"This girl spoils me. She definitely knows the way to my heart...it's definitely through my stomach," he patted his tummy as I held the container out to him.

"Well, if we're going to be bartering, Nanc," Bill winked at me, "I like sweets, too."

"What is it this time?" Murph asked.

"A loaf of banana bread, goat cheese brownies, lemon bars and snickerdoodles," I rattled off.

"What?" Bill practically shrieked. "You better be bringing one of those containers to my house."

I turned bright red as Murph raised an eyebrow.

"I'm firing up Coach's woodburning stove for pizza," Bill explained to Murph. "Do you want to have dinner with us?"

"Very kind of you to offer but I ate dinner before I headed this way," Murph said, lifting the container up in the air. "I'm moving on to dessert and the evening news. Raincheck?"

"Any time," Bill shook his hand, attempting to steal the sweets right out of his hand.

"Nancy," Murph pleaded, "take some sweets to this man tonight. Cause I'm not sharing!"

He strolled away, thanking me and already prying open the container, as he headed through his yard.

"You heard the man, Nanc," Bill drawled, looking me up and down as he backed away, "bring me some of your sweets."

"Bill..." I shook my head.

"Hey, if you come empty-handed, I'll just assume you're my dessert. I can work with that," he smirked.

"Weren't you the one just judging Kristy for her bluntness?" I asked.

"Yup! Be there in five or I'll come back looking for you," he threatened. "And lock all the damn doors!"

I headed back down the stairs into the basement, locking the door behind me. I put the lid back on the balm and snagged a towel to wipe down the table. I folded it up, tucking it under the stairs so it was out of the way when I began painting in the morning. Bill obviously knew it was my intention to begin painting soon since I had tarps laying down in one corner and had already begun trimming with blue tape.

I headed back upstairs into the kitchen and began packing a container of goodies for Bill. He wasn't giving me any time to change and I figured I might as well stay the way I was so he didn't think I was trying to impress him. After a quick glance at myself in the hall mirror, I grabbed my house keys and headed out the back door.

As I cut through Murph's driveway, I looked toward the window where I knew he'd be in his recliner. He held up a cookie and called, "thanks again!" I waved to him and laughed. Such a sweet, kind man. It saddened me that he never married. Kristy told me she feared I would end up like him. I didn't necessarily think that was a bad thing.

"Finally!" Bill called, heading down Coach's driveway toward me.

I glanced at an imaginary watch on my wrist and he laughed.

As I handed him the sweets, he licked his lips and rubbed his tummy.

"I would have settled for you, baby," he wrapped his arm across my shoulders and steered me toward the back yard.

I felt myself relaxing, melting into him. He had already tasted me and I wanted more. I was terrified of saying or doing something stupid or being awkward in front of him but I was more terrified of never being in his arms again. I was determined to go with the flow.

We came around the back of the house and I gasped. The patio looked amazing. Edison looking lightbulbs were strung through the trees and hung from the ceiling of the covered porch. There was a very comfy looking couch and on the coffee table in front of it sat a bottle of Shiraz and two wineglasses. Shiraz was my favorite.

"I'm not gonna lie," Bill said as he led me to the couch, "I remembered it was your favorite and I was hoping to get you over here sooner or later."

He let go of me to reach down for the bottle and I looked around.

"Have your tastes changed?" he asked.

"Nope," I admitted.

"Mine neither," he looked me up and down as he filled our glasses.

"And who did you hang the lights for?" I asked.

"You," he simply stated.

"You've been in town how long and you expect me to believe you haven't had company?" I chided.

"The only company I've wanted was you," he handed me a glass.

"Cheers to old friends," I tilted my glass to his.

"Cheers to old friends becoming more," he corrected me.

I grinned at him as I took a sip. I liked the sound of that. I still felt his warmth and I already missed being pressed again his rock-solid chest.

"Have a seat while I make the pizza," Bill gestured toward the couch as he started toward the oven.

I followed him to the prep counter, wanting to help, wanting to be close to him. He glanced over his shoulder as I approached.

"Can't bear to be ten feet away from me, huh?" he winked at me as I came up next to him.

"I'd like to help," I told him, leaning next to him.

"It's the least I can do since you massaged me," he nudged me with his elbow.

"Speaking of which...I didn't tell you that I planned on painting and I do charge for my services. What kind of successful businesswoman would I be if I bartered?" I asked him.

"You're absolutely right, sweets," he acknowledged. "Since my hands are already in the dough, feel free to grab my wallet out of my back pocket and take what I owe you."

My eyes trailed down his muscular back as he cocked his hip towards me, sticking out his butt for me to access his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. Did I dare? My eyes darted back toward his and I swear I saw challenge written all over his face. If I waited much longer, I knew he'd probably dare me.

I let go of my wine glass, turned to my side until I was facing him and his elbow was practically nestled in my cleavage. I ran my right hand down his lower back and over his butt, before sliding my fingers into the tight pocket of his jeans. I felt him inhale sharply and I left my hand there, rubbing my cheek over his bicep.

"Nanc..." Bill moaned, turning his lips to the crown of my head. "Pull out the damn wallet and then please put your hand back in."

"You're so warm, so strong," I whispered just as my stomach growled.

"Baby, you are killing me," Bill nuzzled his lips against my head. "Let me feed you because you're going to need all your strength for what I'm going to do to you tonight."

Not only was my pussy throbbing but my cheeks were on fire. I so wanted him and he meant to have me. I pulled out his wallet and clutching it to my chest, I turned back to my glass of wine. I was going to need the liquid courage.

"Aren't you going to look inside?" he asked.

"I would never invade your privacy or take your money," I told him. "I was just teasing you."

"Open it, Nanc. Look in the billfold," he said.

"Bill, I don't want your money," I assured him. "And actually, if you really are willing, I could use the help painting."

"You got it. Now open the damn wallet," he insisted.

I pushed my wine aside and leaned on the counter, unfolding and opening his wallet. I stretched open the billfold area and peered inside.

"Behind the bills," he directed and I tucked my hand inside.

I don't know what I expected to find but it wasn't the photo that ended up in my hands. I gasped at the image. It was us. I was wrapped in his arms, held high and tight against his chest. The photographer had captured us just as he finished spinning me and we were beginning to separate. Our noses and our mouths were a mere two inches from one another.

"I have carried that with me since the day Photo Joe gave it to me," he explained as he topped the pizza dough. "Remember senior night? When he had all the photos he had taken displayed for purchase? He didn't put this one out, thought it was too personal. He came right up and handed it to me and I asked him for two more."

"Two more?" I sputtered. Tears were building in my eyes as I looked at us, as I regretted all the wasted time.

"I keep one framed on my nightstand and one on my desk at work. I made sure I slid it into the drawer before you came by today," he admitted.

"Why?" I wondered out loud.

"So you wouldn't freak out. I never thought I was your type, that we were as different as night and day and that's why you always ran from me, shied away from me," he went on. "But when I saw that photo, it gave me...hope, I guess. Whenever I look at it, I get happy. I think we look perfect together. And it may be wishful thinking on my part but I think you looked exactly like I felt...happy."

Bill slid the two pizzas into the oven and wiped down his hands before coming back to me and picking up his wine glass. He leaned against the counter, close at my side.

"Nanc?" he reached up, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"You always made me happy. I looked forward to that moment before and after every game," I choked out on a sob. "I felt special that you sought me out but I also thought you felt sorry for me, that you were just being kind to make me feel part of the crowd."

"Are you kidding me?" he asked. "You thought I pitied you?"

"You only did that at the games. You never..." I trailed off.

"I thought you were terrified of me," he insisted. "Every basketball game, I wanted to pull you under the bleachers. After every football game, when I had you in my arms, I wanted to wrap your legs around me and carry you off to my dorm. I wanted you in my bed."

"You were the huge football star who could have anyone. No guys wanted me or hit on me. Why...why would I ever...it was impossible to truly believe that you would," I rubbed my thumbs up and down the wine glass.

"Baby," he turned me towards him, "you were the luscious redhead that every guy wanted. I outweighed all of them. I was a good five inches taller. They knew if they even looked at you, I would have fucking killed them. Maybe that was selfish of me and you can be pissed at me for it, but it was fairly wide known that no one better touch you."

"I didn't want anyone but you to touch me," I looked up at him, biting my lip.

"Are you telling me that if I had pursued you, if I had made a move, asked you out...are you saying I could have had you? We could have been together?" he asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I know that I loved the way you made me feel but I didn't understand it. I guess...maybe I was a late bloomer in that way. You didn't scare me. My reaction to you scared me. I wanted you to make a move but I didn't know how I would react and I was worried about grossing you out, not being good enough. I mean...I'm different. I look different than most girls...women."

"All part of what makes you so beautiful," Bill assured me.

"Bill..." I could suddenly really smell the pizza. "I think they're done..."

He spun around and pulled the pies out of the oven. They looked delicious and smelled yummy and I hadn't helped at all.

"They smell so good," I told him.

"I almost burnt them and it would have been your fault. Always distracting me," he laughed.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"Don't ever apologize to me, Nanc. I should have done more. I should have told you how I really felt and maybe then you wouldn't have felt so unsure," he acknowledged.

"It's not your fault that I've always been insecure, Bill," I said to him. "That's not on you. That's my head, my issue."

"Go sit, sweets," he put his arm around me and gave me a gentle nudge towards the couch. "Go get comfy and let me bring you dinner."

I grabbed our wineglasses and headed to the couch to wait for him. I kicked off my shoes, watching as he sliced the pizza right on the peel before transferring a couple slices to a plate for each of us. He added the other pizza and sliced that, too. He came over with the two plates just as I was refilling our glasses. He set them down and then went back for the loaded peel, putting everything on the table, right at our fingertips. My stomach was now growling like crazy and I almost salivated over the slices of fresh roasted garlic that adorned each pie.