Chapter 18 #3
Coach Wood walks up to me, looks over my shoulder clearly where Wylie is standing, and says, “I need a progress report.”
“Uh . . . here?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says, keeping his voice low so I do the same.
“Uh, well, she seems to like working with the girls.”
He glances over my shoulder, where Wylie says, “Hey, Dad.”
Coach Wood just nods and whispers, “I need you to suggest she take classes again.”
Yeah, okay, that’s going to happen.
“Sure. Any particular rhetoric you’d like me to use?”
“No, you imbecile, just suggest it and encourage it.”
“Right, I can do that.”
“She seems to trust you,” he says, almost skeptically. “Does she go to you with questions about life?”
Does asking if her bra makes her tits look big count? Because if so, that would be a yes.
“Uh, not really,” I say.
He slowly nods but doesn’t say anything, which feels off for him.
“So . . . is that all?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says, straightening up.
“Great. Uh, good game, right, Coach?”
He doesn’t answer. He just spins on his heel and walks away.
Okay, that was weird.
I wait for him to disappear farther down the hallway until I turn toward Wylie, who also stares off down the hallway. I slowly approach her and try to play it cool as I say, “Wylie, you ready to have that meeting?”
Her eyes find mine, and a smile appears on her face. “Yes. That would be great.”
“Awesome, come with me.” I nod at Penny and Blakely who roll their eyes at us.
“Talk to you later, Wylie,” Penny calls out.
“I’ll send you over the mocks tomorrow,” Wylie says.
“Sounds good.” They wave, and then Wylie and I are headed down the hallway and straight to the players’ parking lot, which is thankfully closed off from the public.
I open her car door for her and help her in before going to my side of the car.
When we’re inside, I turn toward her, grip the back of her head, and bring her mouth to mine.
We kiss for a solid thirty seconds before I pull away and smile lazily at her. “Hey, you.”
She mirrors my expression. “Hey. Great game. You looked so hot out there.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, her teeth pulling on her bottom lip. “Really hot.”
“Well, hold on to that thought because I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
I start pulling out of the parking spot while I say, “I do.”
And then we head down the road.
I place my hand on her thigh, and she places her hand on top of mine. It’s the kind of hold I would see my parents do all the time, and now I get to experience it.
“Is it bad that I was kind of hoping you got in a fight?” she says.
“What?” I laugh. “You wanted me to get in a fight?”
From the corner of my eye, I catch her wince. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I just wanted to see you dominate, is all.”
“I can dominate you later tonight if that’s what you need, baby.”
Her hand squeezes around mine. “I guess that will do,” she says playfully.
“Glad I could accommodate.”
We sit in silence for a second before she asks, “What was my dad talking to you about?”
“You,” I answer. “He wants me to encourage you to go back to school.”
“Oh yeah? Are you going to?”
I stop at a red light and look over at her. “No, but I am going to say you need to do what you want to do with your life, despite what other people might want for you.”
“Uh-huh, and what do you want for me?”
“If I had it my way?” I point at my chest and start driving again. “You’d be naked, primed, and ready for me every time I get home.”
“So, your mistress?”
“I prefer the term sex wench.”
Her head tilts back as she laughs. “Oh, sorry about that. You want me to be your sex wench?”
“With a pussy like yours, yeah, I really fucking do.”
She chuckles, and I love seeing that smile on her face. “So where are we headed? I thought we weren’t supposed to be seen in public.”
I turn down a dark alleyway and say, “Don’t worry, no one will see us.” I park in front of a back door, and when she glances over at me, I can see the trepidation in her eyes. “Trust me?”
“Of course,” she says.
“Then follow me.” We both get out of the car and meet at the front of the hood. I take her hand and then walk up to the door where I knock on it.
A slot at the top opens up, and a man takes me in. “Mr. Posey,” he says. “Good game tonight.”
“Thank you,” I say as he opens the door and gestures down a long, barely lit hallway.
Wylie clings close to me, and as we make our way down, she whispers, “Is this a sex dungeon?”
“No.” I laugh as we reach a door where we’re greeted by a balding man with a thick mustache.
“Mr. Posey.” He shakes my hand. “I’m Harold and will be assisting you. We’re so pleased to have you with us tonight.”
“Call me Levi,” I say and follow Harold into another room, this one much smaller and with a table and three chairs. In the center of the table is a large velvet box. Wylie looks all sorts of confused, so I turn toward Harold and ask, “Can you give us a minute?”
“Of course.” Harold bows his head and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.
Turning toward Wylie, I take her hand in mine and look her in the eyes.
“I wanted to do something for you, something to show you my dedication and commitment to you. And now that I know how you feel about me. . .” I turn her hand over and draw a circle on her palm.
“I want to give you something that says that you’re mine.
If you’re open to it, of course. I won’t be offended if you’re not ready for anything like that but?—”
“I’d love it,” she says with a smile, probably sensing my nerves because fuck, am I nervous.
I want this, I know I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about what she might think about it. That she might think it’s a horrible idea and want nothing to do with it.
“You . . . you do?” I ask, hope springing in my chest.
She cups my cheek and says, “Yes, I’m yours, Levi. If you want to give me something to represent that, then please, give it to me.”
Fuck, I love this woman.
So damn much.
I lean my forehead against hers and press a soft kiss to her lips. “I’m so relieved to hear that.” Then I tug her onto my lap where she fits comfortably. She plays with the hairs on the back of my neck as she beams down at me.
“Why are you relieved? You were there when I said I love you.”
“I know,” I say. “But remember, this is all new for me.”
“This is new for me too,” she says. “And we’ll go through it together. But yes, whatever you have waiting for me, I want it. I want you.”
“Good,” I say as I reach for the velvet box. “Because I really want you to have these.” I open the velvet box revealing quite a few gold and silver bracelets, all incredibly thin.
“Oh my gosh,” she says as she looks through them. “Are these . . . bracelets?”
“Yes,” I say.
“But they don’t have clasps.”
“Because they’re permanent bracelets,” I say.
I look her in the eyes. “It’s a way of me being able to tell people that you’re mine.
” I pick one up. “You can take your pick. Some are generic, but there’s one with my initials intertwined into the design and one with my number.
If you don’t like them, I can always get you something else. Maybe something less permanent?—”
“I love these,” she says as she studies the one with my initials closely.
“It’s beautiful. And the one with your number .
. . and maybe this one.” She picks up a generic one, but they look amazing together when she places them on her wrist. And because the number and initials are so subtle, her dad won’t even know.
“I love these so much. Am I allowed to get three?”
Relief washes through me as I say, “Get as many as you want, Wylie.”
She pauses for a moment and gives them a long look. She even moves some around, grouping them together to see what works best. After a few minutes, she settles with the original three and cups my cheek.
“I love these so much. Thank you, Levi.”
“Of course.” I rub my hand up and down her back. “I’m glad you like them.”
I lean in and offer her a kiss, which she takes, and I get lost in her mouth for a moment. I forget about the responsibilities around us, the trouble with her father, and the idea that all of this could be taken away with one wrong move.
Instead, I revel in the feel of her arms around me, in the passion in her kiss, in the gratefulness and love in her eyes.
When she pulls away, she tugs on my bottom lip with her thumb and says, “I’m so sucking your dick tonight.”
I let out a roar of a laugh just as there’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” I call out.
Harold walks in and asks, “Are you ready?”
“We are,” I say. “Wylie has picked three bracelets.” Harold walks over to the right of the room where there’s a small side table that he rolls close to us.
“Wonderful, and she understands they’re permanent?”
“She does,” I say, looking into Wylie’s eyes.
“I wouldn’t want them any other way,” she says, giving me another kiss that I gladly take.
“I love them,” Wylie says as we lie in bed, naked.
The moment we got home, she led me straight back to the bedroom where she tied my hands up—which I fucking loved—and pulled out my favorite vibrator. She made it pulse against my balls as she stood above me and stripped down to nothing in an erotic dance that had my dick bobbing for release.
She teased me by bringing her pussy to my mouth so I could lap at it, then she’d slide down my body, using her breasts to rub against my skin, and occasionally play with my cock.
But she teased me, fucking terribly, with her mouth, her tongue, her hands.
She brought me to my apex several times before stepping away and fingering herself, making herself come with one of my many toys.
And then she’d start the process all over again, give me a small taste, rub her body over me, play with my cock, and pull away.
It was the best torture I’ve ever endured. I had precum all over my goddamn stomach, and when she finally let me come, she released my hands and let me come all over her tits and neck.
I was one happy motherfucker.