Page 12 of Yes, Coach

"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.

CHAPTER 4

Taryn

Idon't sleep.

Not even close. I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying every second of what happened in Coach Reynolds' office. The way his voice went all rough and commanding. The feel of his hands on my skin. The word "Daddy" falling from my lips like it belonged there.

My phone buzzes at 11:47 PM.

Coach: Sleep well, baby girl. Dream of me. - M

I stare at the text until my eyes blur, then type back.

Me: Can't sleep. Too wound up.

His response is immediate.

Coach: Good. I want you thinking about what's going to happen tomorrow night.

Me: What IS going to happen tomorrow night?

Coach: Everything. Get some rest. You're going to need it. Sweet dreams, baby.

I press the phone to my chest and squeeze my eyes shut, but it's useless. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face when he called himself my Daddy. The dark promise in his eyes. The way he looked at me like I was something he wanted to possess completely.

Around 2 AM, I give up and pad to the kitchen for water. Mom's door is closed, and I can hear the soft hum of her oxygen concentrator. At least one of us is getting some sleep.

I spend the rest of the night alternating between panic and anticipation.

What if I'm making a huge mistake? What if someone finds out? What if I'm not what he wants when it really matters?

But then I remember the way he touched me. The way he said "mine" like it was a fact, not a game. The way he made me feel small and safe and cherished and sexy all at once.

By morning, I've made up my mind. Whatever happens tonight, I'm all in.

School drags by like molasses. I catch glimpses of Coach Reynolds in the hallway, and each time our eyes meet, I feel that familiar flutter low in my belly. He doesn't acknowledge me beyond a professional nod, but I see the heat in his gaze. The promise of what's coming.

My phone stays silent all day, and I start to wonder if he's changed his mind. But then, right as the final bell rings with me still sitting at my desk in study hall, I get a text.

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