Page 6 of Daddy's Treat

“That’s total crap! You’re super nice and pretty. How could anyone not like you? You look like a little doll.” Walt sounds totally shocked at the audacity of anyone not liking me. It’s totally endearing in the naïve way only a child can get away with.

“Good question, kid,” Kade adds.

I turn toward the window to hide my pleased smile. Kade thinks I’m nice and pretty! Insert girly squeal.

Kade stops the car at the end of the gravel road. “Where to, shortcake?”

“I live on just off campus at the university on Lincoln Ave, the Zeta Tau House.”

Kade’s eyebrows rise. “I didn’t take you for a sorority girl.”

“You’d be right. I’m the opposite. I never would’ve been accepted, but they didn’t have a choice. Both my mom and my grandma are alumni. A “perk,”” I totally air quote that, “of being the daughter of an alum is getting a free pass straight into sisterhood.Yay me!”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, shortcake.”

I give him my sassiest look. “I think it suits just fine, Mr... Mr… what is your last name anyway?”

“Prescott. Kade Prescott.”

I hold my hand across the console for an awkward handshake. “Nice to officially meet you, Kade Prescott. I’m Penelope Cooper, but everyone calls me Penny.Or some variation,” I mumble. I know it doesn’t pass Kade’s notice because he gets that angry scowl again. Oddly enough, scowly Kade is just as attractive as smiley Kade and stoic Kade and all the other versions of Kade.

After our belated introductions, we slip into silence. It’s not awkward at all. In fact, it’s comfortable. I lay my head back on the headrest. I don’t know if it’s the hot air blowing on me from the air vents or that I’m crashing from the adrenaline rush, but I dose off on the drive home.

3

Kade

Tonight didn’t endup how I expected at all. Walt begged me to spend our ‘guy time’ at the haunted corn maze. I can’t ever tell the kid no, so I agreed knowing, it would be cheesy costumes and a bunch of teenagers screaming and squealing. I expected to be bored out of my mind…

Instead, an angel dressed like Strawberry Shortcake crashed guy time. Literally, crashed right into me. Usually, having a woman interrupt my time with my nephew would annoy me. I can’t even tell you how many times we’ve been approached while out. I’ve not played football in two years, but the groupies don’t care. Having several championships under my belt and all the crazy endorsements my agent talked me into over the years has kept my name and face out there.

I never liked the life of a star athlete. I just wanted to play football. I was good at it. I wanted to play until no one would sign me, and then I wanted to coach. Well-laid plans and all that. Two years ago, someone broke through my defense and tackled me. Typically, not a big deal. Quarterbacks get sacked all the time. Unfortunately, the dude hit me low and took out my knee. After three surgeries, it still isn’t right.

It was a hard pill to swallow when the doctors told me I would never play again. My coaching career started a lot earlier than I wanted. In the two years I’ve been coaching them, I’ve taken the Wildcats to two championship games, winning them both. Before they hired me as head coach, they hadn’t won a single game in three seasons.

I might be on the sidelines now, but I’m still involved in the game I love. Plus, I’m home more, so I get to spend more time with Walt. After my brother—his father—died, my sister-in-law struggled. Of course, any woman would struggle after losing the love of their lives. Add in the fact that she was heavily pregnant with Walt when it happened made things infinitely harder. I made a vow to Walt that he would never feel the loss of not having a father in his life. I can only hope that I’ve lived up to that.

“Pop rocks, paper clips, turtle snick-snacks…”

I glance over at Penny, who adorably talks gibberish in her sleep. Walt has to cover his mouth to keep from waking her up with his laughter. Waking her up with my laughter isn’t a concern. Waking her up with my mouth on hers definitely is, though.

She’s a fucking knock-out. She joked about being short with Walt, but I think she’s perfectly petite. I’m not sure what her hair looks like under the pink wig she’s wearing, but I have to imagine it’s brown. I bet it’s silky soft and smells sweet. I have to tighten my grip on the steering wheel because the temptation to pull the wig off and see for myself is too great.

I have to bite back a groan remembering her tight little body pressed against mine. Her tits are a small handful, but I bet they are tipped with perfectly suckable, pretty pink nipples. I’ve never been a fan of fake tits, definitely not something I’d have to pretend to like with Penny. She’s one-hundred percent real. I can almost feel her pert little breasts in my big palm. How her nipples would tighten at my touch, causing her to moan and press harder into my touch, begging for more.

My cock is uncomfortably hard in my jeans. I discretely adjust it hoping Walt is too distracted with his phone to notice.

“Pickle candy corn…” Penny mumbles sleepily. “Clowns… no, no…” She shakes her head restlessly, her peaceful expression turning pinched. A quick look at Walt in the backseat shows that he’s immersed in whatever game he’s playing. I reach over and lightly brush my fingers over her forehead and down her cheek, letting them trail along her neck, stopping just before her breasts. She gives a sweet little sigh and relaxes once more.

It takes a lot to make me angry. I mean, truly angry. Those supposed friends of hers have definitely pissed me off. How dare they drag her to a haunted corn maze, knowing she hates scary things and then leave her there. As if that isn’t bad enough, they hired her nightmare-come-true to chase her around, scaring her half to death. Add in the fact that they didn’t just leave her to fend for herself in the maze, but ditched her, leaving her no way to get home.

Anything could’ve happened to her. A wave of possessiveness roars through my veins at the thought of something happening to Penny. Somehow, in the hour and a half that I’ve known her, she’s becomemine.

Mine to protect.

Mine to—

I cut off that line of thinking. She’s a student. I work for the university. Even though I’m not a professor, just a coach, and even though there isn’t any rule against university staff and students having relationships, it’s still something that shouldn’t be taken lightly. Even as I tell myself I can’t have her, another part of me, a baser part of me, rages that she’s mine.

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