Tutoring the Delinquent
“Say it, Iris,” I demand. “Obliterate me.”
“I love my Daddy,” she whispers, tremulously, setting herself off again.
The air leaves me in a massive rush.
I drive her up against the wall one final time, grip that perky ass and let go. Let go with more abandon than ever before. This is what I’ve been chasing with her without knowing it. Full authority. A relationship that is so airtight, it cannot be severed or questioned. I’m not some kind of sicko who wants to imagine her as my stepdaughter or something, I just want to be the only man in her life. I want to block out the fucking sun. I want to be where she runs for reassurance and pleasure and safety and confidence. I’m her Daddy. That’s it. That’s me.
We’re gasping for oxygen, holding on to each other like we’ve just been through battle. I’m covering her face and hair in kisses, running my hands over every inch of her skin. I’ve left red abrasions on her inner thighs that will be visible tonight, since she’s wearing a skirt. Good. But it’s not enough. Nothing will ever be enough for my girl.
After I fix our clothing, I scoop her still-shaking body up into my arms and enter the bedroom, setting her carefully down on the top of my dresser. I open the top drawer and take out my championship ring from last year and a gold chain one of the coaches gave me as a gift. Slipping the ring onto the chain, I fasten it around her neck where it will be easy to spot. Everyone on campus must know she’s my girl at this point, but the ring will let people know we’re deadly serious.
“Just a placeholder until I can put a real one on your finger,” I rasp, kissing her mouth.
She blinks up at me, as if stunned.
“You can’t be surprised.” I slant my mouth over hers, gathering as much of her taste as humanly possible. “You know I’m obsessed with you. You know I can’t breathe without you. I would have made you my wife that first night. Eagerly. You’re mine, Iris. As far as you’re concerned, I’m already your husband and Daddy. The ring will be a formality.” I lean back and look at her, madness permeating my mind at the possibility that we’re not on the same page. “You will marry me, Iris.”
“Of course I will,” she says, voice catching, and the madness recedes, replaced with joy.
My mouth finds hers again, kissing her hungrily. When she slips her tongue into my mouth, her little fists curling in the front of my shirt, my cock starts to lengthen and swell again. We’re still wet with each other’s come. That slipperiness will help me fit easier than usual into her tight cunt. One more time. Just one more time.
At the front of the apartment, pounding has resumed on the door.
“Teddy,” calls the offensive coordinator. “We have a security team waiting downstairs, especially for your girlfriend—”
“Wife!” I shout back.
He clears his throat. “I…sorry. We weren’t aware.” A beat passes. “There is a full security detail here to escort Iris to the game. We’ve arranged for her to sit in the family box, instead of the stands. Does that work for you?”
Relief hits me and I stroke her hair, rub my thumb across her bottom lip. “Yes.”
That’s good. I don’t want her in the stands.
She needs to stay as far from other students and players’ girlfriends as possible. Until I can clear up my lie. Until I can make everything right, I don’t want her to overhear whisperings of the garbage I fed my team out of jealousy. If she was made aware I said those disgusting words, I would die. I would drop dead from anguish.
“Stay in the box, honey, okay? Stay where it’s safe until I come get you after the game.”
Her smile is purer than sunshine. “You don’t worry about me. Focus on the game.” She kisses my lips softly and a wrench lodges in my throat. “I love you and I’ll be fine.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
Still, all the way to the field, there is a weight of dread pressing down on my chest.
Please let me fix this in time.
Chapter Ten
Iris
He’s incredible out there.
Watching Teddy sail the ball down the field, take tackles, run like the wind, find gaps in the defense, I can’t help but marvel. I’m in the family box with the wives of the coaches and various administrators. They have all been very kind to me, even if they did look a little puzzled when I arrived with four hulking security guards with guns. Most of the wives aren’t paying attention to the game. They’re most interesting in catching up with each other and talking about their children, so I sit alone, glued to the glass.