Page 5 of Yes, Coach (Bratton Hollow #1)

"If you want me to stop, you say 'red.' If you want me to slow down, you say 'yellow.' If you're enjoying yourself, you don't say anything at all. Understand?"

She nods. "Yes, Daddy."

"Perfect."

I slide my hands around to her back, finding the zipper of her skirt. The sound it makes as I lower it seems impossibly loud in the quiet office.

"Step out of it."

She does, her cheeks flushed but her eyes never leaving mine. "You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?" I murmur, and she nods breathlessly. She trusts me completely, and that trust is the most intoxicating thing I've ever experienced.

"Beautiful." I let my gaze travel over her body, taking in the way her shirt hits mid-thigh, the smooth expanse of her legs. "My beautiful girl."

"Daddy..." Her voice is breathy, needy.

"What do you need, baby?"

"I need... I need you to touch me."

"I am touching you."

"More." The word comes out desperate. "Please."

"Please, what?"

"Please, Daddy."

"Much better." I slide my hands up her thighs, watching her face carefully. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes." Her eyelashes flutter, eyes rolling back for a beat.

My thumbs brush against the slip of fabric covering the heat between her legs, and she gasps.

"These are soaked." The satisfaction in my voice rolls out of me like thunder. "Is this all for me, baby girl?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good." I reluctantly drag my hand from her panties and start working the buttons down the front of her shirt. “You okay, baby?”

“I think so.” Her voice shakes but her eyes stay wide on mine.

“You always tell me the truth, understand?” She nods quickly. “Good. I’m just going to look at you, touch you so you know what it feels like to be mine. I’ll never hurt you, baby.”

I ease her blouse down her shoulders and off her hands, leaving her in just her bra and panties and those fucking black little shoes and lace trimmed socks.

She’s sin incarnate and she’s all fucking mine. She’s got all the right curves, satin creamy skin, a quivering little belly that I imagine kissing when she’s got a tummy ache or bringing her the heating pad when she’s got cramps.

"Fucking perfect." I pull her into my chest, exploring her back with rough fingers. "You feel so good, baby. So warm."

"Daddy, please."

"Please what? Use your words."

"I need... When I’m around you, it aches so bad."

"I'm going to make you feel so good, sweetheart. But first, you need to understand something." I tilt her chin up so she's looking at me. "This pussy belongs to me now. This beautiful body belongs to me. And I'm the only one who gets to make you come. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Say it."

"I belong to you, Daddy."

"That's right." I ease my hand under the elastic of her panties, down, down, easing a fingertip along that perfect little slit. Heat and wetness engulf the intrusion and I nearly pass the fuck out. "And Daddy's going to take such good care of what belongs to him."

The sound she makes when I press my finger into her folds for the first time is the sweetest thing I've ever heard.

We stand like that for a long moment. Her cheek against my chest, hands gripping my biceps, my finger just wiggling against her clit, silently, slowly, introducing myself to her as everything inside me screams to fuck her like a savage, then tell her I’ll always be there for her hugs and cuddles.

It’s a fucking awakening. For us both.

“You want more?” I rasp against the top of her head, feeling the smallest of nods, but the door handle rattles, followed by a sharp knock.

We both freeze, her head snapping back, looking up with panic.

"Coach Reynolds?" It's Phil Morrison, the principal, who’s always fucking stopping by the sports building these days. I swear he never did in the past. "You in there?"

"Fuck," I breathe, and I see Taryn start to move toward her clothes.

"Stay," I order quietly, and she stops immediately. "Don't move."

"Just a minute," I call out, my voice surprisingly steady.

I grab her clothes and hand them to her, then move to unlock the door while she dresses quickly.

"You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?" I murmur as she pulls her shirt over her head.

By the time I open it, she's mostly presentable, though her lips are still swollen and her hair is mussed.

"Hey, Principal," I say, keeping my hips behind the door. My hard-on visible from space. "What's up?"

He leans around me, his expression softening when he sees Taryn trying to keep her breathing steady. "Oh, hi Taryn, didn’t expect to find you here. You okay? You’re cheeks are really red. It looks good, kind of—"

"Actually,” I cut him off with a grunt, “I was just finishing up with Taryn here." I gesture behind me, and Taryn forces a small smile. "College prep stuff."

"Ah." He nods, eyes narrowing, and if he gives me one fucking speck of trouble right now, I’ll send his head through the cinderblock wall. “All good. We’ll catch up later. Good to see you, Taryn.”

He turns and leaves without another word, thank fuck.

After he’s gone, I close the door and turn back to Taryn. She's sitting in the chair again, her hands folded in her lap, but I can see the look in her eyes.

“What is it?”

Her nose twists, as if she’s trying to clear it of a bad smell. “He’s a creep.”

“Principal Morrison?” I turn to look after him. “What’s he done?”

“To me? Nothing. But other girls have caught him staring at their chests and trying to see up their skirts in class. Younger grades, too. Underage.” She raises her eyebrows at my quizzical look.

“Girls talk, Coach, we watch out for each other. He hasn’t tried anything, as far as I know, but he cornered Chloe once and she got a really bad vibe.

Thought he might, you know… be trying to feel her out. See if she’s interested.”

I growl. “He tries anything like that with you, you come to me. Right away. You hear me?” She nods, but the anger is still building inside. “For that matter, you hear of him trying anything with any other girls, you come to me. I’ll be keeping an eye on him.”

For a moment, she’s silent, then, “Thanks. Not many teachers take that kind of thing seriously.”

"It is fucking serious, but it also lumps me in that sick, pervert category, Taryn.”

“Our situation is completely different. I’m the one that—”

“Nevertheless… We can't do this here."

She sighs. "I know."

"But I meant what I said. About you being mine."

"I hope so."

"Now," I move to my desk and grab a piece of paper, writing down my address, "Tomorrow night. Seven o'clock. Bring nothing but yourself." I pull out my phone and hand it to her. "And put your number in my phone."

She takes the paper with shaking hands, then my phone and starts tapping the screen. "What if someone sees me?"

"They won't. I live outside town, and my nearest neighbor is half a mile away." I reach out and brush my knuckles over her warm cheek. "You still want this?"

"More than anything, Daddy."

The way she says it makes my chest tight.

"Then go home, baby girl. And tonight, when you're lying in bed thinking about what we started here, remember that you're mine now. That beautiful body, that sweet pussy, that trusting heart—all mine."

She nods, handing my phone back with a new little sparkle in her eyes. "Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl. Now go, before I do something that gets us both in trouble."

She heads for the door, then turns back. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Thank you. For not treating me like I'm too young to know what I want."

"You're not too young," I tell her. "You're perfect."

After she leaves, I sink into my chair and run my hands through my hair, my dick so fucking painful I need about a hundred Advil and a killer beat-off session.

What the fuck have I just started?

But even as I ask myself the question, I know the answer.

Everything.

I've started everything.