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PROLOGUE
How is it that the fate of my career depends on some hotshot spoiled brat with a cocky attitude?
Okay, I admit it. He's good. Really good. Too good to still be available to pull out from under a big conference school's nose.
"What’s the catch?”" I ask bluntly, eyeing my assistant offensive coach and scout we sent out to find new talent. Tucker Sanders, aka Tuck, has a good eye for talent, and he's been helping me build a championship worthy team over the past season. It's a hard job, considering the Groveton College Jackals haven't won a championship since my days of playing on these historic fields.
With all the money that flows into this school, the dean had high expectations when he hired me. He overlooked a lot of problematic gaps in my resume to offer me a job here, but he made no bones about what he wanted from me—a championship season. We’d been able to pull off a decent season this year, falling just short of the playoffs, and I'm proud of the team. The dean, however, doesn't give a fuck what kind of feat it was to pull off every win. All he cares about is a championship, and he’s made it very plain that if I don't bring home the title in the next coming season, I'll be back out on my ass.
"Kid's a little problematic. He stirred up some trouble and got kicked off the team. There’s some scandal involved, but no official charges filed. Now he's about to lose his scholarship and his draft potential, so I'm hoping he might be desperate enough to come and play nice."
I pause and zoom in on the footage of the kid. "What's his name again?"
"Jack Perry. Junior. Six foot two, two hundred pounds. He’s got the most receiving yards on the NCAA books right now. Great hands, and he’s fast. His forty-yard dash time is close to a four point three.”
“No shit?” Jack Perry. "Looks like a cocky little sonofabitch."
Tuck laughs. "That he certainly is, but to be fair—he's got the goods to back it up. Just a matter of reining him in a bit."
"Taming I can do. What exactly did he get in trouble for?"
"The usual—partying, not showing up to classes, starting fights on the field. There’s some concern about one of his teammates ending up in the hospital. Rumors say Perry put him there, but again, no charges have been filed, so we can’t say for sure.” He passes me some of the information gathered about the incident. The kid that got put in the hospital isn’t likely to play again. Damn, Perry really fucked him up. “Oh, and there's the small matter of getting caught fucking the coach's daughter on his desk."
I raise an eyebrow. "Bold of him."
Tuck chuckles uncomfortably. "Yeah, that's not all. Turns out he recorded it and decided to do a little showing during an aftergame recap meeting, did an override of the game footage and showed the whole room a video of the coach’s little girl shouting, ‘Jack's my daddy now’."
"Jesus."
"Yeah."
"So what you're saying is I'm going to have my fucking hands full."
"Without a doubt. But he's also crazy good. You don't see talent like that often."
I grunt and start the footage over again, effectively dismissing Tuck.
What he said is true; I have to admit that talent like Jack’s is rare. He could have a future if he straightened his shit up. And I could help him make that future happen. I'm good at making men out of the scrawny, spoiled dipshits that saunter through these doors hoping to walk in the shoes of their father's glory days. Hell, in just one season, I turned a losing team around and gave us a fighting chance. It still hasn’t been enough. Putting together a decent offensive line with a top-tier quarterback, who I trained personally, will never be enough if there isn't someone good enough to catch the fucking ball. We need hands, and we need speed.
We need Jack Perry.
CHAPTER 1
JACK
I watch through the chain-link fence as my former teammates fuck up another play, my replacement tripping over his own feet and fumbling an easy catch. I laugh as the other team easily scoops up the ball and gains thirty yards before the clock runs down. These assholes are nothing without me.
I'm not here because I'm feeling sorry for myself and wishing I was out there with them. I'm here to watch them lose and get their asses handed to them; waiting for the moment that the coach throws a tantrum so I can revel in his misery. Fucking asshole got what was coming to him. They aren’t shit without me.
I catch his eye and give him a knowing smirk before looking behind him. His daughter, Millie, stands on the sidelines, and I shoot her a blatant wink before turning on my heel and walking away. I don't have to look back to know that the coach's face is so red he's close to turning purple. Millie's probably going to end up in a nunnery after what we did, but it was her idea. She wanted to get her asshole father back just as much as I did.
He was already threatening to kick me off the team under false pretenses just because he didn't like that I put his good for nothing, date raping, smug asshole of a nephew in the hospital after I caught him putting something in Millie's drink. Dude was fucking obsessed with his cousin and wouldn’t leave her alone, but daddy dearest doesn’t believe her. He keeps saying she's being dramatic or jealous that the twerp gets more attention than her because he's a football star. He always wanted a son.
So, I bent her over his desk and we pressed record.
I groaned as I lifted the back of her tiny cheerleading skirt and pushed two fingers into her hot, wet cunt.
"God, your pussy is tight. I hope that pervy ass cousin of yours knows what he's missing. Damn."
