Page 18 of Yes, Coach

I can't catch my breath, can't form words. It's like discovering a new color and realizing it's absolutely your favorite. Like finding out there was this whole dimension of feeling I never knew existed.

"I can't believe..." I start, then trail off, embarrassed.

"What, baby girl?" He pushes onto his knees, leaving my legs to fall limp and wide as he swipes the back of his hand over his lips. His massive chest rising and falling, face and neck glistening with my wetness.

"I can't believe how good that felt. I mean, who knew a mouth could do that?" I finally say, my voice raw like I’ve been screaming at a concert all night. I look up at him with glazed eyes. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Don't you want...?" I gesture vaguely toward the obvious bulge in his jeans.

"Tonight was about you, baby girl. About showing you what it feels like to be taken care of."

"But I want to take care of you, too."

A chuckle escapes his lips. "Oh, trust me, you will, baby. When I say, in my way. Daddy's gonna teach you how to take good care of him. But I'll decide when."

He shifts upward, laying next to me, moving me so I’m curled against his side with my head on his chest. I can hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, and feel the rise and fall of his breathing.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I want to belong to you."

The words feel huge in the quiet room, but they're true. Truer than anything I've ever said.

His arms tighten around me. "You do belong to me, sweetheart. From the moment you walked into my office this morning, you've been mine."

"Really?"

"Really." He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "And I take care of what's mine."

"Forever?"

"Forever, baby girl."

I close my eyes and let myself believe it. Let myself imagine a future where I don't have to be strong all the time, where someone else makes the hard decisions and catches me when I fall.

Where I get to be his good girl for the rest of my life.

CHAPTER 5

Murphy

Iwake up at 4:30 AM with Taryn curled against my bare chest, feeling like a fucking king. I dressed her for bed in my shirt, keeping my jeans on because even I only have so much restraint and I needed the barrier between us.

I'd made sure she texted her mom, checking on her and then telling her she was staying at her friend Chloe's house to work on a project and would be home in the morning.

The lie had come easily, but watching her type it out had reminded me of exactly how young she is, how much she still has to navigate around the adult in her life.

I extract myself from her sleeping form, grab my phone from the nightstand and head to the kitchen, needing coffee and space to think. The house feels different with her in it. Warmer. In all the years I lived with my ex-wife, none of our homes felt like this.Taryn's been here for hours, and I finally understand why it's not the place that makes a home, it's the person.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. A text from my assistant coach about this afternoon's football practice, but all I can think about is whether Taryn will be in the stands like she sometimes is, watching me with those hazel eyes that see too much. Or running the track, distracting me from what I’m supposed to be doing.

And what happens if someone notices the way she looks at me now? The way I look at her.

By the time she wakes up, I've been running scenarios in my head. What happens to her scholarship if this gets out. Whether she'd be able to transfer schools. How her mother would handle the scandal on top of everything else she's dealing with.

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