Riding Red (8 page)

“
C
an
I help you with something?” I ask Phil on my way out to the back deck, taking a long swig from my beer. He’s grilling steaks for a family cook out. His daughter Megan is set to come home any minute, having spent the summer at a creative writing camp.

“I think I’m all set, Chris. Just ready for Megan to get home. I hate that the camp fell on her eighteenth birthday, but at least we get to celebrate it now that she’s coming home. Her friend’s mom is dropping her off soon. Hopefully she’ll like the party,” he says flipping the steaks on the grill.

Sitting on one of the patio chairs, I stretch my legs out. The beer is perfect after having spent the whole day out in the heat. Two days on the football field can be killer in the Texas heat. I’m just glad I have a place to crash, and I’m not sitting in some hotel room after a long day at work.

Phil and I have been friends since I was in college. I played football at Texas Tech, and met Phil when he was doing his clinicals. Part of his job was to see to the football players, and my knee wasn't the best so we spent a lot of time together. He and I hit it off right away, even though he was ten years older than me. He always gave me great tips on how to keep my body in working condition.

After I graduated from college, I went on to the pros, playing center for the Houston Texans. I played until my knee finally blew out. Phil did the best to try to get my knee back in shape, but we both knew I was playing on borrowed time as it was. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have lasted as long as I did. He fixed me as best as he could, but I’d done some real damage. There was too much wear and tear, and if I went back on the field, I was taking a chance of never being able to walk again. It was a tough decision, but retiring was the right choice. I’d made a lot of money in my years there, saving and investing the best I could. I knew my knee could’ve gone at any minute, and it was time to hang up my jersey.

“Thanks for being here with us today. I know you’re ready for your place to be finished.”

I was, but Phil and Janet’s home wasn’t a bad place to crash for a while. It was huge, plus I got to talk football every night, and I could bounce ideas off him. Better than going home to an empty house, something that had been bothering me lately.

“I’ve enjoyed the summer with you and Janet, and I know you’re both probably ready for me to get out of your hair,” I joke, knowing they would have had the house all to themselves this summer if I hadn't been staying here.

“Are you kidding me? It’s been awesome having someone to talk football with nonstop. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’re going to make of the Wildcats this season.”

I raise my beer and knock it against his. “Here’s hoping my first year as a high school football coach is a winning season.”

I had been talking to Phil one day, telling him how much I missed being a part of the sport, even though I didn’t have the urge to play anymore. He told me his local high school was looking for a new head coach and I would be a perfect fit. Not soon after, I interviewed, got the job instantly, and made the move. Only my new house wasn’t finished so Phil offered to let me crash with them this summer while I waited.

“I’ll drink to that. Oh, and to your house being finished next week,” he laughs and we clink bottles.

“Remind me never to build again. It’s taken them a month longer than they said, but they’ve guaranteed it by next Friday. Either way, I appreciate you letting me stay with you this summer. It’s clear those boys needed me here as soon as possible; they were a fucking mess. I thought I was going to have to do three a days if that’s even possible.”

Phil lets out a laugh as he closes the grill lid. “No problem. Megan was gone the whole time, so someone needed to fill the silence.”

“Ha ha. Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes. He and his wife have been far from quiet. I’m not sure if they always go at it like that or if it is because their kid is out of the house. “I’ll go check out front and see if she’s back. Wouldn’t want you taking your eyes off the grill. Remember the last time you got distracted?” I say this as Janet comes up behind him and puts her arms around his waist.

“I remember having to order out because the steaks were so burned. Good thing I didn’t marry you for your grilling skills.”

Phil turns around and scoops her up, kissing her lips. I take that as my cue and walk out. I’ve tried to give them their privacy this summer, but I can’t help but see them in moments like this and feel a spark of envy. I’ve never felt that way about a woman before. Never had a single thought of wanting something like that.

They are older than me, so I keep telling myself I have time, but at thirty years old, one would think I’d have felt something close to love. As it is right now, I just fuck to get off, and the women I’ve been with know the score. When I played college and pro, I kept my head in the game, even when it was off-season. I knew after I was done playing football I could try for something like that, maybe have a family, but it’s been a year since I left and I’ve still not felt any pull to want that with a woman.

As I walk through the living room, I look at all the birthday decorations, eyeing a
Star Wars
cake in the middle of the table. What kind of eighteen-year-old girl would have a
Star Wars
cake? Maybe there was a mix-up at the store. Taking a step closer, I see Megan’s name written across it in pink icing. The last time I saw her was when she was eight years old, trying to get me to buy her Girl Scout cookies. I’m happy I get to see her again after all this time. I wonder if she looks like her mom. If so, I’m sure Phil has his hands full. It’s probably why he sent her off to that creative writing thing. Janet is tall, with legs for days, tanned skin, dark hair and bright blue eyes that stand out against her complexion. If Megan looks even a little like her mom, Phil is in trouble with the boys from school.

I walk around the corner, thinking about their little family, and run into straight into a woman. The collision knocks us both down on the ground, and I land on top of her. I brace myself, trying to make sure she doesn't take the impact of my weight. I’m not a small guy, and I still carry all of the muscle I needed playing center in the NFL.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” I say, pushing up on my arms and looking down at her. Suddenly, my cock goes hard as a rock as I see this knock-out under me. It's like I’ve never had a chick this close before. Blonde waves frame her face as ice-blue eyes look up at me through thick-framed glasses. Her soft full curves press against me in the best way possible, and all I can think about is how she’s so soft.

She raises an eyebrow and spreads her legs a little wider. It’s then that I realize our position, me between her legs and her spread out under me. “Wow. Don’t apologize,” she says, her cheeks turn a little pink, but a smile forms on her face, showing two perfect dimples.

This must be the friend who was dropping off Megan, and though I want to stay in this position, I don’t want Phil's daughter walking in and seeing us this way. I sit up, pulling her with me and helping her off the hardwood floor. Her arms go around my neck instantly, like she misses being pressed up against me. Who am I to turn down an invitation like this from the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my life? That’s saying a lot with all the groupies and jump-offs I had running around me when I played pro. I turn us both so we are in the shadows in the hallway, blocked off in case anyone happens to walk by. She presses her hips to my groin, pushing her body against my hard cock. Her softness fits me perfectly. She’s so tiny compared to me in height, but her curves let me know she could handle me. Like I said, I’m not a small guy, so I could grab onto her and not have to worry.

I feel the heat between us light up fast, and I need to know more about this chick. “So I shouldn’t apologize for knocking down a gorgeous woman?”

“Not if you’re going to greet her like this,” she breathes, rubbing her body against mine a little more. Her actions are bold, but her cheeks redden even more. Shit, she looks innocent like that.

Jesus, who is this chick? Fuck if I’m not harder than I have ever been in my life, and that’s just from being pressed up against her. Her smell, her softness, everything is pulling me in. I feel like I’m drowning in desire. Maybe it’s been too long since I’ve been with a chick. My mind has been so focused on my new job that women haven't even been a blip on my radar. Some of the teachers have been trying to throw themselves at me since I started, but I didn’t have time or inclination. But this little curvy bundle of softness has got my attention.

“Megan?” I hear Phil calling from the back of the house. I feel the woman in my arms freeze, no longer rubbing up against me.

“Hey, we better get out there before Megan walks in. Give me your number. I want to see you again,” I say, looking down and searching her eyes, but her big-framed glasses hide them from me. Shit. I can’t remember the last time I asked for a chick’s number. Normally they are slipping them to me, but no way am I letting this one get away. Something about her feels different. Feels right.

The woman giggles and leans up on her tip toes, licking my neck and giving it a small bite, like she needs a taste of me. I nearly cum in my pants, and just as I’m about to, she pulls back, ducks under my arm, and walks down the hallway. I watch her go, feeling like I just got hit by a linebacker, and before I know it, I’m following behind her, watching her ass wiggle.

“Megan! There you are!” I see Phil scoop up the woman, giving her a big hug. Then I hear Janet scream “Megan!” while wrapping her arms around the two of them. The family of three embrace, and I’m just standing there with my jaw on the floor.

Well, fuck.

After a second I shake the fog away and grit my jaw, making sure I wipe the confused look off my face before anyone notices. I think about what could have just happened. I should apologize to Megan, to her family, but I can’t find the will right this second to mean it. I’ve never been so struck by a woman before, and it’s laughable considering she literally struck me.

Phil and Janet turn to look at me. “Megan, do you remember Chris, an old friend of mine? He took the head football position at your high school.”

Her nose scrunches at Phil’s words. I step forward and hold my hand out and she takes it. “Good to see you again, Megan.” I rub the inside of her wrist with my finger, feeling her pulse pick up.

“Hmm, it’s good to see you too. Not sure I remember you, though.” I study her for a second, not really shocked she doesn't remember me. It was over ten years ago and we only met once. I never hung out with Phil at home because I was usually on the road.

“Megan doesn't care much for football, or sports for that matter so she might avoid you like the plague,” Phil jokes, and I almost want to laugh at his words. If he only knew what happened moments ago. That was definitely not avoidance.

Regretfully, I release her hand, and Janet pulls Megan toward the back deck. As they go, she looks back over her shoulder at me, one of her dimples showing, and her blush returns. My dick twitches, and I curse under my breath. I storm to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face, trying to get my head straight. I look in the mirror and give myself a pep talk. ‘Jesus, Chris, she’s your best friend's daughter, and she’s barely eighteen. Get it together.’ I reach down and adjust my cock, trying to hide the fact that the thick bastard is hard as a rock and ready to fuck.

When I make my way out back with the family, I look over and see Megan saying hello to everyone who’s come to celebrate her homecoming and birthday. I grab my beer from the patio table, retake my chair and just watch her.

It’s then I realize how young she really does look. When she was pushed up so close against me I couldn’t see all of her, more just feel her.

Her long blonde hair hangs in waves to her ass. Her bright blue eyes are partially hidden behind her oversized glasses, so I can only catch a glimpse of them here and there. She wears a shirt that fits tight to her tits and reads: I never received my acceptance letter from Hogwarts, so I'm leaving the Shire to become a Jedi! Whatever the fuck that means, I have no idea. She has on loose jeans that she’s rolled at the cuff, and simple white tennis shoes.

If she wasn’t so curvy I would think she was trying to downplay her looks. It’s almost like she rolled out of bed and just threw something on. Not something that typical of a young woman. I can't keep my eyes off her as she moves around the backyard, talking to people and saying her hellos. She glances over at me every so often and as time goes on she gets bolder whenever she looks, her glances lingering.

I try not to stare at her, but it’s hard. Looking around, I start to notice that everyone here is my age or older. Shouldn’t this place be loaded with other teenagers? I just push it to the back of my mind, thinking maybe it’s just for adults, and Megan will have another party with her friends later.

“Coach Burns.” I pull my eyes away from Megan at the sound of my name. I see Croy, my starting quarterback, standing in the doorway of the back porch. “You said I could stop by and grab that playbook,” he says before I can ask what he needs.

“Yeah, I’ll go grab it.” I completely forgot he was stopping by, and I’m sure that has something to do with the woman I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Making my way upstairs, I grab the playbook off the desk in my room, but stop outside Megan’s door. I’ve never had the desire to open it before, but I find myself pushing it open now. I’m not sure what I expected to find, maybe pink walls, fluffy pillows, and posters of teenage heartthrobs on the wall, but what I get is something completely different. Her walls are a bright green, with a model of the solar system hanging from the ceiling. Books cover every free space. Three computer monitors sit on her desk, a screensaver of the periodic table divided across the screens. Her walls are indeed covered in posters, but I don’t understand half of the slogans and phrases emblazoned across them. The one that says "Dear Nasa, Your Mom Thought I Was Big Enough” gets a bark of laughter from me.