Romance Author, Ann Jacobs

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Coach Me

Coach Me cover
Series: Gridiron Lovers, book 4

ISBN: 9781419921810

Master me, thinks Susan Anderson when she meets Colin Zanardi, former NFL MVP and now coach of the Savannah Rebels. He’s the Dom she’s been dreaming of. She just has to convince him to play with her and demonstrate just what she can do for that gorgeous body of his.

Colin's ready to play. He’s the perfect Master to tame her. Settling down this firecracker is a challenge Colin can’t resist. There are so many things he wants to use on her—a sex swing, a spiderweb, a roomful of sex toys. He’ll tie her, blindfold her, order her to pleasure him—for their mutual satisfaction. It takes just a week for him to decide to turn this hometown party girl into his own private sex slave.

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Excerpt:

 

If she were a man, people would call her a sexual predator.

Dave’s chuckling assessment crossed Colin’s mind when he arrived at Susan Anderson’s cobbled-sandstone bungalow, his bag in hand. Other than an older sedan he spotted in the detached garage, his own vintage black Porsche coupe, coated with west Texas dust from the road and parked in front of her house, was the only vehicle on the otherwise deserted block. She’d mentioned something about holding a meeting tonight about the football camp and reunion taking place the following week, but he didn’t see any signs that anybody else might be inside.

He lifted the old-fashioned doorknocker and let it fall with a sharp thud. In a few seconds the door opened, framing the prettiest, sexiest-looking woman Colin had seen in a long, long time.

She greeted him with a big hug, unusual since they were practically strangers yet anything but off-putting. Her body felt good against his—soft yet firm—and she smelled of something slightly tart, a little bit flowery. He liked it, whatever it was.

“Come on in and make yourself at home,” she said, holding the door open and motioning him inside. “Your room is this way.”

He liked her soft-spoken, west-Texas drawl—more honest than the syrupy Savannah accents he’d been hearing the past five years and a hell of a lot sexier than the clipped East Coast speech he’d become used to during the sixteen years he’d lived in the Big Apple. Dark-haired and a knockout from head to toe, she had a mouth that would perfectly surround a man’s cock.

She looked younger than he’d imagined. Not as young as a twenty-something groupie, of course. But well-preserved, with beautiful skin kissed but not baked by the fierce west Texas sun. He found her incredibly desirable.

He followed her down a hallway to what obviously was the master bedroom with a small adjoining bath. It wasn’t where she slept, because the disuse was evident in spite of the smell of furniture polish and freshly laundered linens, and the bowl full of spring flowers on top of the old-fashioned dresser. The bed itself looked comfortable, not unlike those in the hotels he’d stayed in during his week-long trips to colleges to check out potential draftees. Not a bad layout, considering the alternative, which would have been a motor home he’d considered renting for the week before she’d suggested he stay here. “This looks great. Thanks for letting me bunk in with you.”

“No problem. You can unpack if you like.”

“I’ll do that later.” Colin wanted to stay with her, see if his first impression had hit the mark.

“Fine. Come with me. You’ve got to be hungry after that long drive.” She showed him to the living room they’d passed by when he arrived. “You can wait in here while I get you some snacks.”

When she left him, he looked around. Not so much at furniture that had seen a lot of years’ use as at the sensual feast she’d created.

A sweet, musky smell of burning incense swirled around his head, caught on the gentle breeze from a lazily turning ceiling fan. Colin remembered that smell, found it as arousing now as he had years ago when he’d first smelled it when he entered a posh dungeon on the upper West Side for the first time. For years he’d played sex games there every Tuesday—as long as he’d been throwing footballs the previous weekends in the Jersey Meadowlands.

The frankly sexual ambiance had Colin’s nerves on edge. Not to mention what it was doing to his libido. Nothing was going to happen, though, at least not right away, if Susan had been serious about having a meeting tonight about the reunion activities. He imagined they’d have company soon. Probably not Dave, who’d just gotten married on Saturday. But Keith Connors and Bobby Anthony, the other Hedgecock High School signal callers who’d followed Colin to the NFL, would surely be at this meeting to go over details for the football camp and reunion activities scheduled for the coming week. And others who’d worked on plans for the football camp and other activities probably would show up, as well.

Colin imagined his seduction, if that were what Susan had in mind and it looked as though it was, wouldn’t happen until later. Then he noticed a small, round table in an alcove framed with floor-to-ceiling windows. Set for two with a white linen tablecloth, pastel-patterned china and gleaming silverware, the table was bathed in orange-gold light from the sunset pouring through the windows. His gaze settled on a long-stemmed red rose that lay across one plate, its thorns standing out prominently against the creamy porcelain. Odd that the flower was presented that way instead of in a vase in the middle of the table the way one would expect.

But that place went not to a floral arrangement in a silver or fine china bowl, but to a fat white novena candle in a tall, round glass container, the cheap kind they sold in every mom-and-pop store in this part of the country. The candle container sat in a sturdy, black metal holder. The fact that the container held the type of low-heat, cheap paraffin candle often used in BDSM play didn’t escape Colin’s notice, and he glanced again at the rose, paying closer attention this time. As he suspected, Susan had stripped its leaves away, leaving the thorns accessible.

No one else was coming. His hostess had set this party up for two and done it in a way that left no doubt in Colin’s mind that she wanted him to dominate her sexually. His cock rose faster than it had in years. If, as he now believed, she was a sexual submissive searching for a Dom to fulfill her needs, then he was just the man to oblige her.