Page 118 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

Mr. Daniels, the principal, walks through the doors a moment later, his phone to his ear. I stare at Eli with wide eyes, urging him to back up a space or two. He smirks and reaches under my skirt, slipping his fingers between my folds, pushing the cum that’s dripping out of me deeper inside as he pumps his fingers twice.

“Eli,” I moan quietly. My pussy is sensitive from my orgasm, but his touch makes every nerve ending light up, begging for another one. He moves, backing up a space and bringing his hand to his mouth, slowly licking the wetness from his fingers. Butterflies erupt low in my abdomen.

“I understand that,” Mr. Daniels huffs, “but I’m not interested in havin’ someone come here, bond with these kids, only to leave after the year is up.”

Eli leans in, palming my jaw and wiping his thumb across my lower lip, fixing my smudged lipstick.

I let him finish, my heart squeezing in my chest at the show of affection, my mind slotting the jigsaw pieces together, trying to make sense of what the hell is happening with us.

Mr. Daniels is going to have a fit over seeing me in here with someone, looking like I was rode hard and put away wet. My cheeks heat as I step around the side of the bleachers, determined to get this over with.

Eli follows and Mr. Daniel’s eyes fly toward us, widening when they land on Eli. “Lemme call you back, Gene.” He hangs up the phone, tapping it against his thigh while he stares.

“Mr. Daniels,” I blurt. “Look who I found.” My forced smile is splitting my face, and I pray to God he doesn’t see my muscles twitching under the strain, or Eli’s cum that I can feel dripping down the inside of my thighs.

“Elliot Carson. My goodness, if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes, son.”

Eli clears his throat. “Mr. Daniels.”

When he speaks, I feel the rumble of his voice vibrating through my entire body. I rub my thighs together, trying to relieve the sudden tension.

“Nice to see you’re still here keeping all the kids in line, sir.”

Mr. Daniels chuckles, running a hand over his mouth. “Yeah, well, try as they might they just can’t get ridda me. I heard you were in town, didn’t expect to see you here, though.”

“Didn’t expect to be here, sir. Just found myself in a moment of nostalgia, wanting to relive the glory days.” Eli’s arm waves around the room and my eyes follow, snagging on the high school jersey hanging on the wall, the number thirty-three and last name Carson shining like a beacon. He really was the town golden boy. I don’t blame him for not wanting to come home—to be slapped in the face with everything they wanted him to be.

“Yeah,” I cut in. “I heard somethin’ and came to check it out, found him shootin’ hoops like he was still runnin’ up the Bobcat scoreboard.” I glance behind me, my eyes locking with Eli’s until everything else dims—the air so thick it pulses in time with the pound of my heart. “You know, ownin’ the paint.”

Eli’s eyes flare. I turn back around, breathing deep through my nose, trying to tame the surge of electricity sparking through my middle.

Mr. Daniels whistles. “About time someone did. No one’s been able to run this court quite like you in all the years I’ve been here.” His eyes stray toward the jersey on the wall then back to Eli. “I’ve watched your career flourish, Elliot. You make this town proud, son. We’re lucky to call ya our own.”

“Th–Thank you, sir,” Eli stutters.

“They’re even more lucky to have ya down at FCU,” Mr. Daniels continues.

Eli sighs, palming the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… I loved it there, but I won’t be going back. Gonna stick around here for a while instead.”

My heart stalls then kickstarts twice as fast until I’m sure I’ll pass out.

“What?” I gasp, turning to face him fully.

“Yeah.” The weight of his gaze pierces a hole in my chest, digging inside the cavity and making a home. “People who matter most need me here.”

My throat swells like a sponge, siphoning moisture from my tongue until it sticks to the roof of my mouth. I hadn’t even thought about how he’s been doing being with Lee. With visiting his momma.

With his old man.

“Well, hot damn, son. You lookin’ for a gig?” Mr. Daniels’s voice is jumpy, the tone a pitch higher than it was when he first walked in.

My heart stutters at his question. I spin back around, my forehead creasing.

“Why, you got something for me, Mr. Daniels?” Eli grins.

“That depends on how much of a pay cut you’re willin’ to take.” Mr. Daniels cringes. “I’ve found myself without a gym teacher. He up and left with his new wife and baby, barely givin’ me any damn notice.” Mr. Daniels shakes his head, dropping his gaze. “It’s probably not somethin’ you’re interested in but—” His eyes raise back up. “He also coached the basketball team.”

The air stills. Everything in me is locked in place—my breath frozen in my lungs—waiting for his response.

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