My Coach's Lover

4

I sat at the dining table, stabbing my fork into the eggs Coach made for breakfast. She stood by the kitchen counter, her back turned as she washed dishes, but I could feel her presence, strong and steady as always.

"So... what if I don't follow your rules?" I blurted out, half-joking but testing the waters.

Coach paused, the sound of running water stopping for just a second. "Why don't you try and find out?"

I smirked, leaning back in my chair. "What if I just, like... didn't come home on time? What's the worst you could do, ground me?"

Her response was immediate. "Imani, don't push me." Her tone wasn't angry, just firm.

Something in me wanted to see where the line was. Where she would draw it. I wasn't exactly used to having someone keep me in check like this, and part of me hated it. But another part... well, I wasn't sure yet.

Coach dried her hands and turned around, staring at me with that no-nonsense look she always had. "I told you before. You live here, you follow my rules. If you can't handle that, there will be consequences."

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. "Like what? Another spanking?"

Her eyes narrowed, and I swear I saw the corner of her mouth twitch like she was holding back a smirk. "That depends on you, doesn't it?"

The tension between us was thick, but I couldn't help myself. The rebellious part of me needed to push, just a little more. "And if I just... didn't listen? What would you do then?"

Coach walked toward me, slow and deliberate, stopping just a few feet away. She leaned down slightly, meeting my gaze head-on. "You want to act like a brat, Imani? Fine. But I will not tolerate it. You will get what's coming to you, and I won't feel bad about it. Understood?"

The air in the room seemed to shift. It was a challenge, but there was something more behind her words, something I couldn't quite place. My stomach did a weird flip, and I felt my heart race. Why did this feel so different from all the other times I'd mouthed off?

I swallowed, feeling my mouth go dry. "Fine. I'll be good," I muttered, breaking eye contact and looking down at my plate.

Coach straightened up, her expression softening just slightly. "Good. Now, finish your breakfast. We've got a long day ahead."