Chapter 19 - Miles
Chapter nineteen
Miles
My Daddy was pure evil. My face was flushed the entire way home, and my dress shirt did very little to cover the extremely large, extremely visible wet spot on the front of my gray pants. Add in the plug in my ass, and I was thoroughly humiliated.
And despite my recent orgasm, that all just turned me on even more. Fuck.
After scurrying into my house with my hands very obviously hiding the front of my pants—thankfully, I’d avoided my neighbors, whose homes were far enough away from mine that they couldn’t see my front door—I hurriedly cleaned the sticky mess, tossed yesterday’s soiled clothes into the hamper, and changed into something more appropriate for the day’s activities.
Atlas had been right. Somehow he’d known I’d need a spanking to ground me, given that I would be around a bunch of people today, and the plug was an added bonus.
Every step I took, every jostle of the car brought both the spanking and the plug to the forefront of my mind and kept them there.
The incessant pounding against my prostate by the toy wasn’t easy to ignore, either.
But it did take my mind off the social anxiety.
“You excited for today, Daddy?” I asked as we walked toward the high school from where we’d parked several hundred feet away from the entrance, my hand twitching with a desire to hold his.
And in that moment, I realized how easy it would be just to grab his hand.
It wouldn’t even be that big of a deal, right?
And if it was, who the fuck cared? Even if I saw these people every day for the rest of my life—which I knew was highly unlikely—what they thought about me ultimately didn’t matter.
What mattered was this person beside me, my Daddy, the one I loved. And he deserved to be claimed in front of everyone, even if the thought terrified me. Even if he was leaving. Maybe because he was leaving.
But the moment passed when he took a step ahead of me, and I glanced around as we crossed the wide lawn.
Cars already filled the parking lot and the grassy area between it and the road.
We’d found a “spot” among the haphazardly parked vehicles, but the people who’d come after us had started to park along Main Street.
I stepped around a pothole before glancing up at Atlas.
He was gorgeous today, his green shirt setting off his eyes perfectly.
And I knew right then that I was going to show everyone he was mine—in front of our middle-aged graduating class, in front of the town, in front of the entire world.
Like I’d asserted all those months ago, he deserved to be loved out loud.
He smiled at me as he dropped the lanyard that held his name tag over his head.
His hair was styled perfectly, the top in a flowing swoop that I could never hope to replicate, and he wore a golden eyeshadow that sparkled in the midday sun.
His lips were glossy but devoid of color—he usually only wore lipstick on more femme-leaning days—but they were infinitely kissable, and if there’d been a place to drop out of sight, I’d have kissed him breathless before we went inside, hard-ons be damned.
“Super excited!” he replied, answering my question from a minute ago, distracted by navigating the uneven surfaces of the parking lot and grounds. “After my conversation with Finn yesterday and seeing the sexual tension between him and Brad last night, I want to see how it will play out.”
I snickered as we approached the high school’s main entrance ahead of a few other groups of people. “So you’re here for the tea.”
He flicked imaginary hair behind his shoulder as he answered primly, “Why, yes, Miles Johnson, I am.”
I laughed aloud as we crossed the threshold, feeling freer in this town than I ever had before.
And when his arm brushed mine, I knew this was my moment.
I could very easily grab his hand, show everyone I was his and he was mine.
I could make the decision I should’ve made last night with Cory at Timbers I wanted to walk into the gym with his hand in mine in front of everyone. I didn’t need a boner to make it salacious.
Atlas’s eyebrow quirked as if he could read my mind, and I blushed but shoved my hand between us, silently asking for his. With a sweet smile that would’ve melted my panties right off—had I been wearing panties, that is—he slid his hand into mine and opened the door.
We stepped into the room, and to my surprise, despite the pounding in my chest, nothing seemed any different at all.
The crowd didn’t react, we couldn’t hear a pin drop, no one gasped.
Cheers, shouts, and loud conversations swirled around us as the announcer started introducing the players. It was just . . . normal. A non-issue.
Why hadn’t I done this before?
Oh, I wasn’t na?ve. Bigoted people were everywhere, and I was certain I’d get my fair share of vitriol at some point.
But right now, I was holding my partner’s hand in front of our former classmates and half the town—I even saw Theo on the edge of the court in a referee’s uniform—and the world didn’t end. Everything was fine. We were fine.
And I felt like I could fly.
We waved at Brad, Finn, and their friend, Chloe—I’d met Finn and Chloe briefly last night at the after-party—before taking an empty seat on a bench several rows in front of them.
All three flashed a grin at our joined hands before we sat down, and my chest warmed in the best way.
I hadn’t expected to feel so peaceful. I hadn’t expected this to feel so right.
The game started soon after, and despite my wallflower tendencies, I found myself joining in the hilarious cheers coming from Brad, Finn, and Chloe above us in the stands before the alumni won the game.
“How about some lunch, baby?” Atlas shouted in my ear as everyone was making their way out of the gym, and I nodded to avoid yelling over the din.
He grabbed my hand and guided us through the crowd, every inch the Daddy he was.
I was swooning by the time we made it outside and beelined to the food trucks set up for the occasion.
The afternoon went by quickly, and I even managed smiles during the group photo and the selfies Atlas had us take to mark the occasion.
I knew I’d be printing at least one of them out and putting them in pride of place in my living room, maybe another on my fridge.
Even if him leaving broke my heart—which had started already—I was going to remember him, be grateful for the time we had together.
I sniffed away a tear as I watched Atlas flitting around the lawn, getting almost every member of the senior class to sign his yearbook.
I’d begged off after I’d managed to collect signatures and notes from my friends—or perhaps more accurately, acquaintances with a few exceptions—on the football and swim teams and was now leaning against the trunk of a good-sized oak tree, cooling down in the shade.