로그인Bailey POVThis kiss was nothing like the first one. The first one had been careful. Slow. A question.This was an answer.His lips moved against mine hard and hungry, his tongue pushing past my lips, tasting me deep. I grabbed his bare shoulders, my fingers digging into his wet skin, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.A groan rumbled through his chest."God," he breathed against my mouth. "You taste like peaches and whipped cream."The words sent a shiver ripping down my spine.He kissed me again. Deeper. His body pressed flush against mine, pinning me to the wall. I could feel everything. His wet chest soaking through my shirt. His stomach flat against mine. And lower, his dick growing hard against my thigh, thickening with every second.His hand left the wall.Slid down my side.Over my hip.His fingers found the waistband of my track pants and slipped inside. Past the elastic. Past my panties. Until his fingers pressed against my pussy, slick and swollen."Ahhh," I g
Bailey POVI kept my distance for another week.At the academy, I stayed on the opposite side of the track during general practice. I coached my groups, ran my drills, and pretended the sprint section didn't exist.But my eyes always drifted.Mark was with Coach Kennedy's group now for the general session. I watched from across the field as Kennedy ran them through relay drills. Mark moved through the exercises with ease, his body cutting through every rep like a machine.I looked away before anyone noticed me staring.Practice ended late. The sky had turned a deep orange by the time most of the athletes cleared out. I was packing up my cones when I spotted it.An iPod sitting on the bench near the sprint lane.I walked over and picked it up. It looked expensive. Rose gold case. Engraved initials on the back.M.K.Mark's.I'd seen it before. He'd had it plugged into his ears as he casually strolled into our private sessions.I should have left it on the bench. Should have handed it to
Bailey POVThe days after our last conversation should have felt lighter.I said what I needed to say. Drew the line. Shut it down. That was supposed to be the end of it.So why couldn't I stop thinking about him?It found myself doing things I wouldn't do. Little things I tried to ignore.Picking out a better jacket before practice instead of grabbing whatever was closest. Putting on lip gloss in the car before walking into the academy. Checking my reflection one too many times in the rearview mirror.For who, Bailey?I didn't answer my own question.At the academy, I kept my distance from the sprint group. But my eyes always found him. Across the track. Between drills. During water breaks. He never looked my way anymore. Never lingered after sessions. Never called or texted.He gave me exactly what I asked for.Space.And I hated every second of it.I noticed things I had no business noticing. The way his shorts hung low on his hips. The way sweat rolled down the side of his neck du
Bailey POVI avoided him for three days.No sessions. No calls. No texts. I switched my route at the academy so I wouldn't pass the sprint group during general practice. When I saw his name flash on my phone, I let it ring until it stopped.He called four times the first day.Six the second.By the third day, the calls stopped.And somehow, the silence felt worse.I threw myself into work. Wrote training programs I didn't need to write. Reviewed footage of athletes I'd already reviewed. Stayed late organizing equipment that was already organized.Anything to keep my hands busy and my mind off that taste that still sat on my lips like a ghost. Something warm, like coffee, with a sweetness underneath. Honey, maybe. I didn't know. But I couldn't stop thinking about it.Thursday afternoon, I was packing up after general practice when I heard footsteps behind me on the track.Heavy. Fast. Familiar."We need to talk."I closed my eyes."Mark, I told you I needed space.""You've had three da
Bailey POVMonday came too fast.I spent the whole weekend replaying what happened at the pool. His hand on my hip. My breasts against his chest. His dick, hard and thick, pushing against my belly through his shorts. The way he whispered "tell me to let go" like he already knew I didn't want him to.I tried to push it out of my head. Went for a run. Cleaned my apartment. Called Lola about nothing just to hear someone else's voice.None of it worked.By the time I pulled into the college parking lot Monday afternoon, my nerves were shot.Mark was already on the track when I got there. Stretching by the starting blocks, earbuds in, head bobbing slightly to whatever he was listening to.He looked up when he saw me coming.Smiled.Easy. Warm. Like Saturday never happened.That made it worse."Let's go," I said, dropping my bag on the bench. "Sprint drills. Full effort."No hello. No small talk.He pulled his earbuds out and studied me for a second but didn't say anything. Just stood up an
Bailey POVSaturday's session was different.Mark had been pushing hard all week. His muscles were tight, his body was sore, and his hamstring still wasn't fully healed from the strain. He needed a break from the track.So I booked us a lane at the city swimming facility for recovery training. Low impact. Easy on the joints. Good for loosening everything up.I didn't think about what that meant until I was standing in the women's changing room, staring at myself in the mirror.Swimsuit.I was about to be in a swimsuit around Mark.The one-piece was simple. Black. Athletic. Cut high on the legs and low enough at the chest to show the top of my collarbone. It wasn't meant to be sexy.But it hugged every inch of me. My hips looked fuller than I expected. The round shape of my breasts pressed firm against the fabric, lifted and visible in a way my training gear never allowed. My waist curved in tight, my legs stretched long and lean beneath the high cut.I swallowed hard.Too late to chan
Sheila’s POVThe text from Bobby came two days later.Bobby: hey lifesaver got a minute to look at something? code is being weird againI saw it while I was sitting at the kitchen table, working on my own thesis. My heart did its usual stupid jump.Me: What did you break this time?Bobby:
Sheila’s POVThe next Saturday, Zuki barged into my room at nine in the morning and flung open my curtains.“Wake up,” she said. “It’s time.”I groaned and pulled the blanket over my head. “Time for what?”“Vegas,” she said. “Real Vegas. You promised.”“I never promised anything,” I mumbled.She ri
Sheila’s POVA week later, I came home to find a black dress laid out on my bed like a threat.It was simple. Soft black fabric, short sleeves with a skirt that hit mid‑thigh, and a neckline a little lower than anything I’d ever worn outside the house.Zuki appeared in my doorway, arms crossed. “To
Sheila's POV"Let me drive," Zuki begged for what had to be the tenth time since we'd gotten in the car. She was practically bouncing in the passenger seat, her hand reaching for the wheel every time we stopped at a red light."No," I said firmly, swatting her hand away as she tried again. "For the







