Chapter 182: Annihilated - Monet

"Ssshhhhh." Cole whispers in my ear, clamping his hand over my mouth as he slowly pulls his still-hard cock out of my burning asshole.

"Cole!" Coach's voice sounds urgent from the other side of the closed door. "Son, is everything okay? The bus is already waiting."

Instead of answering, Cole opens the tap, and without warning pulls me underneath the stream of water, my hair completely ruined now.

My back is still glued to his front, and he squeezes my breasts in his palm. "You can be glad I have to go, or I would have been fucking your pussy and ass all day and night."

His dark words make me gasp, and he kisses me as if he really doesn't have anywhere to go.

"Cole!"

He breaks the kiss abruptly. "I'm coming, Coach! Give me five!"

I watch in fascination as the guy who was literally losing it thirty minutes ago reluctantly leaves me in the shower, his eyes steady and bright on me as he reaches for a towel.

"You better be down in fifteen minutes, Cole, or I'll break down the door!"

"Yes, sir." He smiles brightly, his eyes darkening when I take off my now-soaked bra and rinse between my legs, my limbs shaking when I turn the tap off and get out.

"Stop looking at me like that, you have to go." I whisper urgently at him, but he steps into me and kisses me hard on the mouth.

"I love you." He whispers, resting his forehead against mine. "Thank you for bringing me back."

I know we're headed down a dangerous slope, this toxic cycle of needing each other just to survive, but butterflies flutter in my stomach when Cole kisses me one more time before he wraps the towel around his waist and leaves the bathroom. I'm careful not to step in any glass when I put my slippers back on, getting dried as swiftly as possble.

Whereas I am ruined, Cole doesn't look like he was deep inside my asshole only minutes before, dressed impeccably in a navy suit and crisp white shirt with the top buttons open, his signature curls damp from the shower and a sly smile on his face.

"I'll see you later." He's still reaching for me when the door opens and Luke walks outside.

"No, no, no!" Luke says. "Coach is about ready to lose his mind."

Our friend's eyes meet mine, the concern heavy in them. I give him a subtle thumbs-up to let him know that we're somehow good to go.

"Go conquer them." I smile, nerves already replacing the butterflies.

"We'll annihilate them, baby." Cole says, the promise deep as Luke drags him out of the room.

Amy is not all that impressed with the state that I'm in, and she quickly tries to fix my hair with putting it into a low bun, complaining that the hat may not fit.

She ends up being satisfied with the way we look, and I'm so happy when she hugs Chrystal.

"Your blonde is absolutely perfect for us."

I can see how much Chrystal soaks that in, and I'm grateful that my best friend is embracing her, and making her a part of our group.

"When this day is over, you better tell us what happened in that room." Amy tells me with a warning look, but how do I tell them that I just got fucked in the ass after training it since Christmas, and that I really liked it?

And that I'm still worried as fuck that Cole is going to be okay out on that field today. He didn't get his usual routine, and that might mess with his game.

So when we get to the stadium that feels even bigger than the last, I'm literally chewing on my manicure that Amy made us get in the week. It's a circus as usual, Cole's name painted on bare chests, some have guns painted on their cheeks referencing the "Sniper." There are even people wanting to take pictures of us, saying they have loved watching our outfits over the season, making Amy gagged and giving out Instagram handles.

When the team comes barging out of the tunnel, I try to check if Cole is okay, but he looks calm, and after the National Anthem is over, he points his helmet at me with a cocky grin, making the crowd erupt in cheers.

Halfway through the game, it is obvious. The Devils really are annihilating the opponent, Cole is playing like nothing anyone has ever seen, making plays the other team never saw coming.

"What the fuck happened in that room!" Amy grabs my arm, throwing her head back and hollering. "They're making an undefeated team look like fucking kindergartners!"

You can see it on the opponent's faces. They are wearing the look of utter defeat, and no matter how much their defense tries to hold it together, the Devils' offence is unstoppable. It's a game of beauty, the commentators even saying like it's nothing that they've seen before, especially not in a National Championship title game.

Coach is crying even before the whistle blows, and the muscles around my heart clench.

This is it. The season is over.

The Devils won.

And now I have to tell Cole that I suspect Coach is somehow his real father.