Page 22 of More, Daddy (Bluebell Bruisers #3)

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

We agreed we wouldn’t acknowledge each other in person. Keep things as they are, don’t ruffle feathers or whatever the expression is.

We also agreed to take it slow, and I violated that agreement hard last night by spilling my ever-loving breeding-happy guts.

Now, as I stand in the doorway of the break room at lunch time, staring at Cadence who waits in front of the microwave, I’m torn.

It’s my nature to take control, grab the reins and get what I want. It’s why I’ve been in sports my whole life—athletes need a leader.

In any other situation, I’d likely walk up to Cadence, kiss her on the lips and announce to the world that she is fucking mine .

I’m falling in love with her, which is damn crazy to say, and because of that, I’m hesitant. Being in love, according to every married person I’ve ever met, is about compromise.

I want to storm over there and demand she stop playing these games, stop logging off and not giving me her phone number, and quit keeping us inside of a computer.

I tap my boot along the faded linoleum as the doors open at the end of the hall. Sunlight pours in, and two girls enter, arms linked, soft laughter hanging in a cloud around them. If students are in the hall, headed back toward classrooms, I don’t have much time.

Discreetly inhaling through my nose, I exhale a bit wobbly and enter the breakroom. Dean and Riley went off-campus today to Goode’s, and while they invited me, I declined. It’s better with them gone, anyway. They won’t witness whatever this ends up being.

I tip my hat at a female teacher whose name escapes me at the moment, and squeeze between two chair backs as I head toward the sink. My heart is beating so goddamn hard that it actually makes me angry that I’ve allowed myself to get this worked up.

I usually have more control of my emotions. The daddy in me is always controlled, too. It’s just—she just turns me into someone I don’t recognize, and steals my impulse control.

I turn the water on at the sink, feeling Cadence in my periphery, still in front of the microwave. I wash my hands, and she reaches out, tapping, adding 30 seconds to her meal .

She’s adding time, which means she wants to stand here longer, too .

She wants me to make a move.

She’s asking for me to do something… anything .

It’s why she added time to the microwave. Without a doubt.

I could fucking bend her over and fuck her raw right now, I’m so thrilled.

It makes me hard, too, seeing the subtle way she’s communicated with me just now.

I can’t deny that the secrecy can be hot.

I also can no longer deny that I want this for real, in the flesh, without a screen in between.

Our thing brought to real life is way better than some subtle, non-spoken secret communication, no matter how electric it feels in the very fleeting moment.

The timer ticks down, 15 seconds remaining, and it’s then I realize, it’s now or never.

I lower my washed hand to my side and slowly reach for hers, curling my fingers around her fingers before giving her a gentle squeeze. Tight enough to have meaning, but gentle enough not to hurt or draw attention.

Her skin is velvety soft, almost cruelly soft by the way I harden further, and even though she doesn’t squeeze me back before I release her, still, I’m glad I did it.

She feels so good.

Her hand fits perfectly in mine.

Cautiously glancing her way, I find her wide blue eyes set on me, hovering, analyzing, assessing, like she’s seeing me for the first time. A tiny furrow forms between her eyebrows and then she takes her food from the microwave, and walks away.

No smile. No wink. Nothing to give us away .

“Miss Caine?” a soft voice calls from the doorway, where I look and see Briar Matthews and Maven Leemont, linked at the arm. They must’ve been who entered the hallway a minute ago.

I twist to watch Cadence at her table. She doesn’t acknowledge me at all, but she looks up from her food at the two girls as Briar says, “Spirit meeting today. We need your guidance on the resolution of a big issue.”

Cadence rises, tossing her completely untouched tray of food into the garbage near the door, and leaves, following after the two junior coaches.

Even though the bell rings a few minutes later, I stay in the break room until no one is there. Then I adjust my hard-on—because simply looking at Cadence is now the equivalent of jacking off for five minutes—and go back to my office, horny and more desperate than ever before.

I shut my blinds, close and lock my office door, and drown myself in thought.

What was that look she gave me? I know—I pushed. I did something today that I said I wouldn’t do. But that look— I don’t know . I pull at the back of my neck and let out a long groan of frustration right as a knock sounds at my door.

It’s got to be Cadence . She’s going to sneak in wearing a grin from ear to ear, lock the door then get on her knees and tell Daddy just how goddamn sorry she really is.

But the door doesn’t open. Is she waiting for Daddy’s permission?

It’s her first time coming to my office for what will be a long life of mid-day pleasures. It’s okay that she’s nervous. I like her a little nervous, a little curious. I stroke my cock over my jeans, and tuck myself under the desk. Adjusting my hat, I straighten, calling, “Come on in. ”

When the door opens and Leah Mitchell appears, I have never been so fucking disappointed.

“Jesus,” she scoffs, standing in my office with her hand still clutching the door handle. “Could you look less happy to see me?”

I tug my hat off and set it on my desk, rifling my fingers through my hair. “I don’t think so.”

She clicks her tongue. “Well excuse me for living.”

I bring my eyes to hers. “I was expecting someone else.”

Leah, wearing a crossing-guard colored neon orange suit, tosses her head back, exposing silver hoop earrings. “Ha, clearly. I walked in and it looked like someone pissed in your Wheaties then set your entire family on fire.”

I’m not in the mood for banter. “Did you need something?”

She lifts her brows. “I heard back from Bluebell Sports Authority. They agreed to a 75% discount on their wholesale cost on pads.” Leah lifts her fists in the air, indicating we’ve won. “Good work.”

I muster up a pathetic lilt of my lips, hoping it passes as a smile. “Good.”

She pulls the door closed, and leaves me, and I’m grateful that Leah can pick up on my cues because I really do not want to socialize right now.

I can’t shake the unnerving feeling that’s currently spidering through my veins.

Maybe I just took it too far? Maybe she’s upset I didn’t stick to our plan?

Maybe Cadence is just better at playing coy and subtle than me?

I don’t know.

But I think about her and that tiny little furrow between her brows when I took her hand .

That furrow is all I can think about for the rest of the day.

And in the evening, I have extra time to think about that pinch in her brows, and the way her eyes swept over me like she was seeing me for the first time ever, because she doesn’t get online.

Not even for a minute.

Not at all.