The Swim Coaches' Forbidden Lessons - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Recognizing James Roland as the other coach beside me, I felt a rush of gratitude—and immediate discomfort. I squirmed in his grasp, trying to pull away. "Thanks, Coach James. I would've gone under without you."
His grip only tightened. James smirked, his breath hot against my ear. "Relax, Miss Devonshire. Unless you want to eat a mouthful of pool water, you'll let me hold you up."
His words sounded reasonable, but his hands told a different story.
They roamed freely, sending shivers down my spine—a confusing mix of protest and something dangerously close to excitement.
I'd never been this close to a man before.
And despite my unease, a traitorous thrill coiled inside me.
Encouraged by my silence, he grew bolder, murmuring about correcting my form—though his methods were anything but professional.
His fingers slid over my skin like eels beneath the water.
Watching the ripples, he whispered, "Your posture needs work, Miss Devonshire. Let me... adjust you."
I couldn't refuse—not when I was helpless in the water. Worse, Liam Murphy was watching from across the pool. If he saw me like this, I'd die of humiliation.
Eyes squeezed shut, I felt my arms being guided outward.
James exhaled against my neck. "Good girl."
"Now lift your hips higher."
I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood. "James—maybe we should wait for Aaron! I don't want to be a bother!"
Just then, Liam vanished from sight.
And my actual coach, Aaron Laurent, reappeared.
Relief crashed over me.
Thank God.
As I exhaled, I noticed the aquatic center emptying fast. I wanted out.
But Aaron's voice was firm. "Patience, Miss Devonshire. If I don't teach you properly, you could report me."
His serious tone made me hesitate. "Fine. A little longer."
While practicing strokes under his guidance, a rough palm suddenly skimmed my inner thigh.
I gasped.
"Coach Aaron!"
Turning, I caught the predatory glint in his eyes—and alarm bells blared in my head.
BANG. The doors slammed shut.
My stomach dropped.
James stood by the entrance, grinning like a wolf. "No distractions now."
Horror dawned as I realized—we were alone.
Panic surged. I thrashed, desperate to escape.
"Let's keep going," Aaron said, withdrawing his support. Without him, I floundered—
"Aaron! Help!"
Choking on chlorine, my vision blurred.
Instinct took over. I clawed at Aaron's shoulders, clinging like a drowning woman.
Before I could recover, James pressed against me from behind, his chest searing into my back.
I writhed, screaming, "Let me go! HELP!"
Aaron chuckled darkly, his hands wandering. "Behave, or I'll let you sink."
Terror locked my protests in my throat.
"You monsters!"
Aaron's touch soon had me trembling—caught between shameful pleasure and the sickening crawl of violation.
I bit my lip raw to stifle any sound.
Just as my resistance wavered, strong hands lowered me into the water—only James' palms kept me afloat.
No ground. No escape.
A scream tore from me as I grabbed for Aaron. "Please! Stop this!"
James barked, "Don't move!"
Tears spilled over.
Aaron's gaze raked over my exposed legs. "Lift them higher, Miss Devonshire—unless you want to drown."
Shaking, I obeyed.
His breath scorched my skin, sending conflicting waves of dread and unwanted heat through me.
Against all reason, anticipation coiled low in my stomach.
Then Aaron's calloused hands began their slow, deliberate ascent from my ankles...