Page 36 of Yes, Coach

The possessive words send heat straight through me. Even after all this time, the way he claims me makes my knees weak.

"Speaking of belonging to someone..." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. "I have something for you."

My heart stops. "Murphy..."

"It's not what you think," he says quickly, but he's smiling. "Well, not exactly what you think. Not yet. And not another collar either."

That makes me blush. The collars are my favorite things. Even when I’m otherwise naked, the lettering saying “Good Girl” makes me feel special and loved.

Those aren’t the only gifts he gets me, either. Two weeks ago he took away my internet time after I got into an argument with some douche on Facebook. I started throwing a tantrum and… well… it could have led to spankings, but it didn’t. Instead, he presented me with this sippy cup, complete with the word “BRAT” emblazoned on the side.

I couldn’t help myself. I just loved it too much to remember why I was moody.

Daddy put me to bed for naptime, with the cup filled with juice on the side, and when he came to wake me it was all empty.

I haven’t used that cup since, but it’s not going anywhere. Sometime, I might need to be reminded that Daddy knows best.

He opens the box to reveal a delicate gold ring with a small diamond that catches the morning light. It's beautiful, but it's not an engagement ring. It's something else entirely.

"It's a promise ring," he says, taking it from the box. "A promise that you're mine, that I'm yours, and that when you're ready—when we're both ready—I'll make it official."

"Murphy..." Tears blur my vision as he slides it onto my right hand. It fits perfectly, of course. He probably measured my finger while I was sleeping.

"There's an inscription," he says softly.

I look closer and see tiny script on the inside of the band:Daddy's Girl.

"I love it," I whisper. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby girl. More than you'll ever know." He cups my face in his hands. "You know what this means, though, right? Wearing my ring?"

"What does it mean?"

"It means you're officially claimed. Marked as mine. Any boy who gets ideas about my girl will see that ring and know she's taken."

The thought makes me glow with satisfaction. Being marked as his, claimed in a way everyone can see.

"Good," I say firmly. "I want everyone to know I'm yours."

"That's my girl." He kisses me softly. "Now, about breakfast. I made your favorite."

He plates bacon, eggs, and pancakes, setting it in front of me with a glass of orange juice and my vitamins. The vitamins were his idea—making sure I'm getting proper nutrition since I have a tendency to forget to eat when I'm stressed about school.

"Eat," he says, settling across from me with his own plate. "All of it this time, baby girl. You need fuel for your brain."

“Yes, Daddy.” I dig in obediently, still admiring the way the ring catches the light. "Are you nervous about today?"

"About you starting classes? No. You're brilliant, you'll do fine." He pauses. "Are you nervous?"

"A little. It's just..." I struggle to find the words. "What if things change? What if I change? What if college makes me different, and you don't like who I become?"

The fear has been nagging at me for weeks. What if becoming more of a brat? More of a bad girl?

What if Daddy stops looking at me like I’m the most important thing in his world?

"Hey." His voice is firm but gentle. "Look at me, sweetheart."

I meet his eyes, seeing understanding and patience there.

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