My PE Teacher's Forbidden Lesson - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
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He took a slow sip of water, pausing just long enough to steady his breathing before circling back to adjust our postures. When his hand grazed the small of my back—lingering just a second too long—I felt the heat of his gaze before I even turned to meet it.
Dark. Intense. A silent promise that sent a shiver down my spine.
Just wait, little troublemaker.
I didn't need words to know what that look meant. My pulse kicked up, cheeks flushing under his attention. Ethan Roland was already hooked, and I was loving every second of it.
Posture drills were just the warm-up. The real game started when we split into teams.
Truth? I'd played volleyball for years. That clumsy act earlier? Pure strategy—anything to keep his eyes on me. Now, I moved with effortless precision, every serve and spike deliberate.
Too bad I'd conveniently forgotten my sports bra.
With every jump, every sprint, my top fought its own losing battle. The guys on the other team barely glanced at the ball—too busy staring at me, missing easy returns.
Then I felt it—that scorching glare burning into the back of my neck. I turned just in time to catch Ethan's icy glower at the distracted players, his jaw tight.
Without warning, he called a time-out. "Take five. Next group, up."
I bit back a smirk. Jealous, Coach?
The possessive edge in his expression thrilled me. He already thought of me as his.
By the final whistle, my shirt clung to me, damp with sweat, every curve on display. I grabbed a water bottle and sauntered over to where he sat, bending just enough to give him a peek down my neckline.
"Here, sir. You look exhausted."
His gaze dropped—just for a heartbeat—before snapping back up, ears turning pink. He cleared his throat, fingers brushing mine as he took the bottle, slow and deliberate.
"Thanks," he rasped, Adam's apple bobbing.
I flashed him a grin and walked away, hips swaying just a little.
After class, he cornered me. Asked for my number.
"You've got potential," he murmured, voice rough. "I'm making you the PE rep. Equipment duty. Volleyball drills. You'll report directly to me."
Obviously.
Back in my dorm, his first text lit up my screen.
[Lily. Your attire today was a dress code violation. Severe one.]
I typed back fast, playing innocent.
[I'm so sorry, sir! My sports bras didn't dry because of the rain. I didn't have a choice!]
[Excuses don't fix mistakes. Gym equipment room. 3 PM. You're being disciplined.]
I sent a meek "Yes, sir." But our class had no PE that afternoon.
So why the equipment room?
Unless discipline wasn't what he really had in mind.
I showered, spritzed on perfume, and dressed carefully for my punishment.
At 3 PM sharp, I pushed open the door. Empty.
Then—strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me against a solid chest. His lips found my neck just as footsteps echoed outside—a class filing into the gym.
"Someone's coming!" I whispered, pressing a hand to his chest.
Ethan's smirk against my ear was pure sin. "Makes it better, doesn't it?"
Then his mouth crashed into mine, swallowing my gasp.
Dark. Intense. A silent promise that sent a shiver down my spine.
Just wait, little troublemaker.
I didn't need words to know what that look meant. My pulse kicked up, cheeks flushing under his attention. Ethan Roland was already hooked, and I was loving every second of it.
Posture drills were just the warm-up. The real game started when we split into teams.
Truth? I'd played volleyball for years. That clumsy act earlier? Pure strategy—anything to keep his eyes on me. Now, I moved with effortless precision, every serve and spike deliberate.
Too bad I'd conveniently forgotten my sports bra.
With every jump, every sprint, my top fought its own losing battle. The guys on the other team barely glanced at the ball—too busy staring at me, missing easy returns.
Then I felt it—that scorching glare burning into the back of my neck. I turned just in time to catch Ethan's icy glower at the distracted players, his jaw tight.
Without warning, he called a time-out. "Take five. Next group, up."
I bit back a smirk. Jealous, Coach?
The possessive edge in his expression thrilled me. He already thought of me as his.
By the final whistle, my shirt clung to me, damp with sweat, every curve on display. I grabbed a water bottle and sauntered over to where he sat, bending just enough to give him a peek down my neckline.
"Here, sir. You look exhausted."
His gaze dropped—just for a heartbeat—before snapping back up, ears turning pink. He cleared his throat, fingers brushing mine as he took the bottle, slow and deliberate.
"Thanks," he rasped, Adam's apple bobbing.
I flashed him a grin and walked away, hips swaying just a little.
After class, he cornered me. Asked for my number.
"You've got potential," he murmured, voice rough. "I'm making you the PE rep. Equipment duty. Volleyball drills. You'll report directly to me."
Obviously.
Back in my dorm, his first text lit up my screen.
[Lily. Your attire today was a dress code violation. Severe one.]
I typed back fast, playing innocent.
[I'm so sorry, sir! My sports bras didn't dry because of the rain. I didn't have a choice!]
[Excuses don't fix mistakes. Gym equipment room. 3 PM. You're being disciplined.]
I sent a meek "Yes, sir." But our class had no PE that afternoon.
So why the equipment room?
Unless discipline wasn't what he really had in mind.
I showered, spritzed on perfume, and dressed carefully for my punishment.
At 3 PM sharp, I pushed open the door. Empty.
Then—strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me against a solid chest. His lips found my neck just as footsteps echoed outside—a class filing into the gym.
"Someone's coming!" I whispered, pressing a hand to his chest.
Ethan's smirk against my ear was pure sin. "Makes it better, doesn't it?"
Then his mouth crashed into mine, swallowing my gasp.
End of My PE Teacher's Forbidden Lesson Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to My PE Teacher's Forbidden Lesson book page.