to her cheek and whispered against her velvet skin, “I don’t care who you wore the dress for tonight…as long as you remember who you took it off for.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Erik
I woke up the next morning feeling satisfied and guilty as hell. Brie was young and drunk on authority. She wanted me because I was her coach and she liked the danger of it…and maybe I was taking advantage of the situation. Persuading her to follow me into a dark alley wouldn’t help mold her into an Olympic champion, and yet I’d done it anyway.
We were using each other, fucking and fighting like it was our job. We’d become each other’s prisoners, twisting ourselves into a sexual Stockholm syndrome, but now that we were in Rio, there were consequences lurking around every corner. I shuddered to think what would happen if someone had seen us together. Brie wasn’t underage, but in the eyes of the public, it wouldn’t matter. I was her coach and she was my gymnast. I was the predator and she was the victim. I smiled at the thought. Brie would hate being labeled a victim; she was a fighter through and through. She’d gone into that alley with me because she’d wanted to; she teased me because she liked it. She wasn’t the flowers and chocolate type of woman. She didn’t want me to hold her hand in public, she wanted me to kick her feet apart and take her from behind. She wanted what I wanted, and that’s why deep down, I knew we were a perfect fit.
I showered and pulled out a black suit from my closet. We’d been in Rio for three days and qualifications were set for the following morning. The Today Show would be covering the competition and interviewing a few of the athletes. They’d requested a pre-qualifications interview from me, and though I would have appreciated a few more hours of sleep, I’d agreed to the segment months ago. Besides, it wouldn’t be so hard. They wanted a one-on-one with me so I could give them information on the girls—if they were ready to compete, what they were like when they weren’t training, that sort of thing.
An hour later, I sat on a stool facing the stage lights and tried not to go blind in the process.
“Y’know, Erik, I have to say, if I’d had a coach that looked like you, I might have stuck with the sport a little longer myself,” the correspondent, Melissa, joked before reaching forward to touch my knee gently. She had a short blonde bob that swished back and forth every time she leaned forward to touch me, which was getting to be more and more often as the interview droned on.
I smiled and adjusted the lapel of my suit jacket. “It’s never too late; I could open up adult classes at Seattle Flyers.”
I was flirting with her enough to make for good television and she was eating it up.
“Oh gosh. I’m scared I’d break a hip or something!” She laughed before turning to her cue cards. “So as you know, we asked our audience to tweet in questions about you and the team. Nine out of ten wanted to know more about Brie Watson. She stormed onto the gymnastics scene a few years back, and it’s not every day you find someone like her: the total package. Can you tell us a little more about her?”
I swallowed and tried to keep my expression neutral as I answered. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure what Brie would be like when she arrived in Seattle. She trained at a great gym in Texas and I knew she had the skillset required to compete at the Olympic level.”
“We know she’s a great gymnast,” ribbed the anchor. “But what is she like outside the gym?”
“Well she definitely has a strong head on her shoulders. I think you’ll find in her interviews that she’s not afraid to give her opinion.”
Melissa laughed. “Good! She fights back, I like that.”
Ha.
“That’s crucial to compete at this level,” I continued. “Gymnasts have to be exceptionally confident. There comes a point in their training when they know what’s best for themselves, and sometimes that’s the point when they stop being coachable.”
“Do you think Brie’s past that point?”
I shook my head. “She wants to win, probably more than any athlete at these games, and even though she completes routines that leave me speechless, she’s not perfect. Until she has gold around her neck, she will keep