Page 96 of More, Daddy
“I’m good,” I reply as controlled as possible, despite the wave of desire washing through me, curling my toes, snapping my eyes closed, causing my stomach to tighten. Clenching and moaning, I come so hard that I don’t realize I’ve dropped the phone until it hits the table. West recovered the phone, and ended the call, and as I come down from my orgasm, he launches into his.
“Now he knows you’re off limits,” he groans, bracketing his hands on my shoulders, holding me down on him. Our eyes lock, our gazes holding a full conversation as West moans, hefty and loud, making the room around us rumble. My insides get hot as his cock throbs in me, and then another soft grunt, another pulse. I lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, a kiss so contrasting to this rough moment that his breathing slows, and his hands slide down the length of my arms, eventually weaving together with mine. When his grip on my hands softens, and he’s no longer throbbing inside me, I carefully climb off of him, ready to clean up.
But West is between my legs with a damp towel immediately, and it’s not the slow care he takes with my used pussy, but rather, the way he keeps his eyes trained on me the whole time that has my heart floundering.
I lick my lips, and smooth my hands down my hair. “If Austin asks…” I start but West just shakes his head, tapping my ankle to get me to step into my panties and leggings.
“What you do in your life is no business of his,” he says, standing as he rights my clothing. He wipes up coffee, and cleans up the messy table, all while putting more food on my plate and insisting I finish breakfast.
“Right, well whether that’s true or not, normal people converse about their lives. And if I tell him that he has no business asking me about my life, he’s going to think I’m like, being abused or something.” I fold my arms over my chest as West tosses a dishtowel over his shoulder, leaning his tailbone against the sink.
“Seriously,” I add.
He glares at me for a moment. “Don’t push me, Briar. When I’m ready for the world to know you’re mine, I’ll let you know.”
I nod my head, then sit in my chair and finish my waffles and eggs. West drives me to school, but makes me walk ten paces ahead of him after we get out of his truck.
He ignores me all day at school, but afterward, he holds my hand in the truck. When he takes me to my house, he tells me to point at the things I want to bring to his place, and he packs everything for me. It’s only two bags, but still.
That night, we head north for an hour, until we reach the Target store in Riverside. There, Daddy West tells me that he wants one month together, without anyone knowing, before we take it public. He treats me to a new pink blanket for our bed, so it feels like my old room a little. He buys me new pajamas, actual satin pajamas like rich girls wear in movies where they have sleepover scenes. He gets me slippers, new leggings, and a brand new ribbon for my hair. He says it’s for cheer, but when we get home that night, he puts it in my hair before he fucks me missionary in bed.
When I come, I tell him I love him.
He doesn’t say it back, but we’re close. I can feel it.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
“You’ve been holedup in your office every day for the last three weeks,” Leah groans, fishing mints from the dish on her desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from hermit West?”
I can’t even believe that Leah is my first stop, but when I worked it out in my head this morning, as Briar sucked me dry in the shower, this makes the most sense. Soft launch on Leah, then the guys, then hard launch on Bluebell itself.
“Can I close this?” I hold her office door, and she nods.
After we’re sealed inside, she tips her readersup and folds her hands over her stomach. “Okay, you have my attention and I swear to Christ if you tell me you’re quitting, I’ll murder you right here on the spot.”
I adjust my hat, and stack my ankle on my opposite knee. “You couldn’t kill me unless you had a gun.”
She narrows her eyes. “Could so.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
She takes another mint from the bowl and adds it to the three already in her mouth. “Spit it out then.”
“I’m in a relationship with Briar Matthews. No, it’s not just sexual but yes, it is sexual.” I drag the tip of my tongue between my lips, eyes tamped on Leah, trying desperately to read her while pretending it makes no difference.
I respect Leah.
She’s representative of the others on campus, too. She sets the tone. And I’m not gonna ask her to get behind me on this, to support me so others will, too. I don’t want that forced support. All that brings are whispers and side eyes.
I want her to support me because she’s my friend, and trusts my judgement.
I watch her face carefully as we stare at one another. If even a sliver of disdain or disgust passes through her features, I’ll know.
Finally, after what feels like way too fucking long, she sighs. “How old is she?”
My mind veers back to Briar’s file. The one I pulled up on the portal the other night. I read every single note any teacher had ever written about her, all the way back to third grade, when Mr. Demopolis noted her attention to detail and clean penmanship. I read it all, including the note in her file from third grade, written a few months after the one about her penmanship. Quiet and reserved after the death of her mother, is what the last note by Mr. Demopolis said.
