All Chapters of Dirty Cum-mandments: Daddy One Shots : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

IVYWayne completely ignored my question, his cold blue eyes still holding mine in a way that made my skin crawl with bad ideas. After what seemed like forever, he aggressively flipped his MacBook laptop open and tapped at the keyboards aggressively, brows knitted tightly in concentration. Then he let out a low, rough grunt, his jaw shifting as he finally tilted the screen toward the empty space right beside him."Come here," he grunted out, his voice a gravelly command that brooked no refusal. "Come see exactly what your brilliant professional mind put out into the world this morning."I swallowed hard, a sudden, confused frown crawling all over my face as the anger in my chest morphed into a deep, unsettling sense of dread. I slowly rounded his big wooden desk, my heels sinking slightly into the plush carpet, and bent down over his shoulder to watch the glowing screen. Yeah, right there on the display was a video playing on the official Dale University sports page—an Instagram ac

IVY I tried desperately to think of what to do next. My mind was racing a mile a minute, throwing out options like a malfunctioning computer. Punch him right in his stupid, taunting face? Nah, I instantly kicked against that idea. The man wouldn't even feel it. Wayne was incredibly bulky, broad-shouldered, and packed with solid muscle. He seriously looked like he was built entirely out of stone instead of actual flesh and blood like normal human beings. If I punched him, I’d probably just end up fracturing every single bone in my hand while he stood there and smirked at me. I quickly thought of option number two—scream for help? Still not a fucking reliable plan. His private office was tucked away in a very desolate, isolated part of the massive hockey arena, way past the main locker rooms and the storage facilities. No one rarely seeked him out back here without a strict, pre-scheduled appointment, and the walls were practically soundproof to keep the noise of the ice rinks

IVY Coach Wayne didn't seem like he was accepting any more denial. His calloused hands hooked directly into the elastic waistband of my lacy panties, and with one brutal, downward jerk, he tore the delicate fabric completely down my legs in one fluid move. The sudden rush of cold air against my bare skin made me gasp, but I knew it was absolutely pointless to keep pretending I didn't want this just as much as he did. My mind tried pointlessly again to scramble for an escape clause, a way to justify why my body was completely betraying me. I thought that maybe later, when the adrenaline faded, I’d be sober and I'd hate him for it. I'd go back to detesting the ground he walked on. But I scraped that thought immediately from my brain, gritting my teeth against the polished mahogany of the desk. Even now, with my pulse hammering at a million miles an hour, I was sober as fuck. I knew exactly who he was, exactly where we were, and fuck me…I knew exactly how bad I wanted him to rui

JULES "Fuck!" I screamed out, cursing viciously under my breath as the abrupt interruption sent a painful shockwave of frustrated arousal straight through my core. I blinked back the thick tears of pure pleasure that had clouded my vision, my chest heaving up and down in heavy pants as I desperately reached over the edge of the mattress to scramble for my phone. I pulled it up and looked at the glowing screen. The name flashing across the display made my heart completely stop for only a fraction of a second. It was Mika. My absolute best friend. The exact girl whose father I had been sickly, desperately craving and fantasizing about since the past one year. I didn't even feel a single shred of guilt as I swiped the screen to pick up the call, my breathing still incredibly rough and uneven as I pressed the phone against my ear. "Hey, girl," I panted out, trying my absolute best to sound completely normal, though my voice was still thick with the residue of my dirty solo session.

JULES Mika lifted another roll of tape from the floor and started heading toward the stairs, looking completely overwhelmed. "Hey, Jules, come upstairs with me real quick," she called out over her shoulder. "I seriously need your help wrapping up some fragile stuff in my bedroom before the guys get here." I didn't answer right away. Instead, I threw one last, lingering final look at Damon, who was completely absorbed in his work across the living room. He was busy hauling some heavy metal tools and club gear into a massive wooden crate, his thick, heavily tattooed hands moving in a fast, efficient blur. The way his broad shoulders flexed beneath that leather jacket was completely hypnotic. I swallowed hard, trying to clear the sudden tightness in my throat, and forced myself to turn around and follow Mika up the stairs. When we got to her bedroom, I noted that the majority of her stuff had already been neatly packed away into various cardboard boxes stacked along the walls. The