Daddy Duke

by Madison Faye

  No this was just so warm and nice and peaceful. My parents hadn’t really ever been there, even before they died. Mom was always in and out, and my dad was just mostly a drunk asshole who’d hit my mom and sometimes me when he was mad. But Nolan’s house? Yeah, this just felt like home, as weird as it was to even think that.

  I sank into the sheets, remembering the night before — his eyes blazing at me through that mask. The way his hands had grabbed me so tight, like I was his to hold. The way his lips had tasted and the way he’d slammed me against that bathroom door and claimed my mouth. The way his thick, perfect cock had eased inside of me, filling and stretching me open like no other man ever had. I mean, I’d only slept with my high school boyfriend and Matt, so it’s not like I had a lot of comparing to do. But holy shit, Nolan had been insanely amazing.

  Except…

  Except he was my professor. And judging from the way he’d pulled away from me when I’d decided to go full psycho and kiss him again, he wasn’t exactly happy about what’d happened.

  I groaned.

  Yeah, I was going to have to face that music. I mean, I guess I could have just slunk out of the house like a weirdo, but I’d see him in class eventually. For the rest of the semester, I’d have to sit in his class twice a week and look at him, trying to pay attention to his lessons when I knew all I’d be thinking about was his big, perfect cock driving between my legs until I screamed in pleasure.

  My teacher — the man who’d fucked me, the man who’d made me come harder than anything I’d ever known. The man who’d saved me, who’d took me home, who I’d then kissed.

  I groaned into my hand again before I finally flung the blankets off and slid out of bed. I dragged myself to the big floor length mirror and took stock of the situation.

  …I really wished I had some more clothes.

  For one, I looked ridiculous absolutely swimming in Nolan’s big basketball jersey. I’d rolled the running shorts up, but they still hung off of me, no matter how tight I tried to pull the drawstring. I mean, they were literally falling off my hips, showing my panties for God’s sake. And that jersey — yeah, no. The arm holes were so big, you could basically see all of my tits from the side. I couldn’t exactly go down to breakfast in that, now could I?

  Ahhh, but then I did still have my costume — the stupid one Matt had bought for me and made me go out in the night before to that costume party. I groaned as I stared at the skirt and the blouse I’d draped over a chair. Silly, ridiculous, and totally slutty, and it was still better than my nipples showing and my thong panties and half my ass peeking out of the shorts.

  Barely.

  I slipped Nolan’s clothes off and pulled the schoolgirl outfit back on. I frowned, trying to fix my hair in the mirror and wishing I had makeup with me, before I stopped myself. God, here I was primping for him. Here I was trying to look my best for a man I should have nothing to do with except listening to lectures and turning in homework. I turned to put my hand on the doorknob when I froze.

  Oh, fuck.

  Because right then, I remembered the rest of the night before, beyond having banged my professor.

  “You’re not my only houseguest.”

  My stomach dropped as my heart flipped. Right, it wasn’t just that I was waking up in my economics professor’s house. It was that he wasn’t the only man here. There were two other ones staying with him in the huge house, and even worse than that, one of them was another professor of mine.

  I wasn’t just ambling downstairs dressed like a freaking porn cliché to one man, I was going to walk down there to three men — my gorgeous economics professor who I’d slept with, the equally swoon-worthy and hot Professor Garret Cole, and God only knew who mystery man number three was.

  I glanced in the mirror and groaned again. This was going to be mortifying, even if Nolan hadn’t mentioned screwing me in a bathroom to his two friends.

  Actually, this whole day was going to be awful. I was going to have to face two of my professors plus some other guy looking like the living, breathing definition of “walk of shame.” Then I was going to have to figure out how to get over to my car. Then I was going to have to somehow get into Matt’s place and deal with that whole shit-storm to grab my stuff.

  Oh, right, and then I’d just have to figure out where the hell I was going to live.

  Wonderful.

  I opened the bedroom door and stepped out, feeling one last flash of heat tease through me as I thought about the night before. But then I pushed it aside and took a deep, shaky breath.

  Time to face the music.

  Chapter 7

  Max

  “Oh.”

  I looked up at the sound — soft, sweet, melodic, and my whole body froze.

  Shit. Double, double shit.

  The girl was fucking beautiful. Soft, gorgeous face, big blue eyes, dark hair that tumbled past her shoulders. Full, mouth-watering tits, hips that were begging to be held on to, and legs that just kept going. She somehow managed to look sweet and innocent, and sultry and fuckin’ hot at the same time, and all like she wasn’t even trying.

  And she was staring at me, her jaw dropped and her eyes wide, her head slowly shaking side to side.

  “Are you who I think you are?” she said quietly.

  “I guess it depends on who you think I am?”

  “You’re Max O’Reilly. You played for San Francisco.”

  “And you’re Cora Hartley,” I said evenly. “You’re in my buddy’s lecture class.”

  She blushed, and I groaned inside. Fuck she was tempting. Tempting, and gorgeous, and that smile just fucking slayed me. It’d been a long time since I’d been around a woman that did that to me. When I was at the height of my game, there’d been women throwing themselves at me constantly. Fame attracts a certain type of woman, and so does money. Throw the two of them together, and it’s a pretty toxic combination. I’d learned that lesson early on, and for most of my career, I’d stayed away from that shit. Yeah, the tabloids had me painted as this panty-dropping, pussy-slaying bad ass, but really, my concentration had been the game.

  Until the game had fucked me over. The league wanted nothing to do with me after I’d blown my knee. Rehab and a half dozen surgeries had me back on my feet, but after that, I was done with pro ball. I’d gotten out better than most guys though. I still had my money thanks to being friends with a Wall Street wiz, I still had my health, and really, I was still young at thirty-two. The fake women faded with the glory, and honestly, I was fine with that.

  But now, there I was face to face with a damn angel. She had that look where you weren’t sure if you wanted to hold her tight and protect her from the whole world, or wrap those legs around your waist and fuck her until she screamed for more. And honestly, the first time I saw her there in that kitchen, maybe I wanted to do both.

  She smiled shyly at me, still blushing, but with those big blue eyes darting across my face like she was reading me. I wondered if she was trying to figure me out the same way I was trying to figure out her. She had her arms wrapped around herself, and I slowly took in what she was wearing.

  Damn.

  Blood rushed to my cock as my eyes took in the tiny, short, plaid schoolgirl skirt and the blouse that was barely capable of using half the buttons and doing a shit job of holding her full tits back. She was clearly uncomfortable wearing it — clearly embarrassed to be wearing whatever the hell stripper outfit it was from the night before down to breakfast the next day.

  “Here.”

  I reached down and tugged off the hoodie I was wearing, yanking it off my head and tossing it at her.

  “Oh, no, that’s—”

  “Just put it on. Don’t get me wrong, that getup is doing is all sorts of good things for you, but the sweatshirt might be a little comfier for a cup of coffee.”

  She blushed, smiling at me as she tugged it on, until she was basically swimming in it. And damn did she still look fucking gorgeous.

  “Thanks.” She
flashed that killer smile at me again, and I felt my heart thud inside my chest. “It was a costume party,” she said awkwardly, nodding down at her skirt sheepishly.

  “And here I was thinking you were selling Girl Scout cookies.”

  She grinned. “Wouldn’t that be a Girl Scout costume?”

  “I’ll still buy anything you’re selling.”

  She blushed furiously, her bottom lip catching between her teeth and eyes sparking before she looked away.

  “Do you know where Professor Jameson is?”

  I smirked. Professor Jameson.

  Cora bit her lip and looked away. “Or, you know, Nolan.”

  “The Professor,” I put on a haughty, academia voice that made her grin. “Is unavailable. No, he’s at his office cranking through some papers I think.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  She frowned as she looked down into her coffee.

  “What’s up?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Cora said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”

  “What do you need?” I said, my voice edged with concern as I saw the worry on her brow.

  She made a face, like she wasn’t really sure what to say.

  “You can tell me,” I growled.

  Cora nodded, her eyes locked with mine.

  “I just need to go pick up some stuff at this…this guy’s house.” She looked down again, scowling and blushing. “My clothes, and stuff.”

  I scowled. Garret and Nolan hadn’t told me much about the previous night before they both took off for campus. But they’d mentioned the asshole who’d hit Cora. My jaw clenched.

  “The piece of shit who knocked you around last night?”

  Her eyes darted to mine, her face paling.

  “Me and Garret and Nolan, we share everything,” I shrugged. “But trust me, that shit stays right here. Your stuff is at his place?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, let’s go get it.”

  Cora shook her head. “Oh, no, I really couldn’t ask you to—”

  “You’re not, I’m volunteering.” I stood and knocked back the rest of my coffee. “C’mon.”

  “Seriously, you really don’t have to do this.”

  She gasped as I turned and put my hands on her arms, rubbing her shoulders through the hoodie.

  “Yeah, but I want to. Let’s go.”

  “Go the fuck away!”

  The mumbled, alcohol or hangover-slurred voice shouted through the door of the apartment. Beside me, Cora frowned and glanced at me.

  “Sorry, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”

  I turned and pounded on the door again, and again, and again, until the little shit inside started yelling.

  “What the fuck!” There were footsteps, the lock yanking open, and then the door swinging wide.

  “Who the fuck—” Matt stopped short when he saw Cora. And he smirked. “Well, well, look who comes crawling back.” My jaw clenched as he snorted and then glanced up at me. “Who’s this, Cora, your fuckin dad?” He laughed. “You bring this old guy here to—”

  He yelped as I kicked the door in sharply, knocking him off his feet onto his ass as I shouldered my way inside.

  “Dude! Are you fucking for real? You can’t just— fuck!”

  He yelped again as I kicked him in the ribs. I turned to a stunned looking Cora still standing in the doorway. “Why don’t you grab your stuff, princess?”

  She looked at me, blinking in shock before she nodded and quickly moved past us into the shitty apartment.

  “You can’t just barge into my apartment you fucking psycho!”

  “Yeah,” I hissed, my jaw clenched tight as I turned to glare down at Matt. “Yeah, I can. And I just did.”

  Matt narrowed his eyes at me before suddenly, there it was.

  “Oh shit, are you Max fuckin’ O’Reily?”

  “Yup.”

  “Dude! You’re the man!”

  “Get fucked, Matt.”

  He scowled, like I’d wounded him. “The fuck is your problem?”

  “You, Matt,” I spat, planting my foot on his chest and pointing a finger right in his face. “You’re my fuckin’ problem you little shit. You like slapping girls around, huh?”

  Matt paled, his eyes going wide as he shook his head. “Bro, I don’t know what that bitch told you, but I never—”

  He wheezed as I kicked him in the side again.

  “I’m done.”

  I turned to see Cora, in jeans and boots now, but still wearing my hoodie. I grinned. I liked that. She had two small suitcases with her.

  “Alright, let’s go.”

  I grabbed the suitcases and ushered her out the door, leaving Matt on the ground.

  “Hey, she’s all yours, asshole,” he yelled after me. “Have fun with your new old man boyfriend, or your dad or whoever he is, bitch. Yeah, work out your fuckin’ daddy issues with this fucking has-been.”

  I could see the heat on Cora’s face, but I just shook my head as I leaned close. “Ignore him, let’s go.”

  “Hey bro, just so you know, this slut was totally going to ride my cock just for a place to live. Fuck, she was begging me for it. She was ready to suck—”

  Matt didn’t get a chance to finish before I’d stomped over to him, picked him up, and thrown him into the wall. He slumped to the ground with a groan, a pile of cheap plaster raining down around him. Cora’s jaw was dropped with her hands covering her mouth and her eyes wide as I calmly walked back over, picked up her suitcases in one hand and put my other on the small of her back.

  “Let’s go, princess,” I said quietly, ushering her out the door and down the steps to my Land Rover.

  On the way down, I worried I’d just freaked her out a little. I mean, I’m a big guy, and I probably could have seriously wrecked that kid back there. But when I turned to her, and saw her grinning from ear-to-ear, my worry went away.

  “So, that was awesome,” she gushed, grinning up at me as we got to the car.

  “Yeah?” I opened her door for her, letting her climb in.

  “Uh, yeah? That was seriously amazing back there!”

  I chuckled, closing the door and then heading around to the driver’s side and hopping in.

  “Guess I should smack assholes around more often.”

  She smiled, and I let my eyes drink her in a little.

  “More comfortable?” She frowned and I grinned. “Than the schoolgirl outfit.”

  She laughed. “Much. Oh, God, this is yours!”

  She went to tug the hoodie off, but I stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “Nah, keep it.”

  Her eyes dragged up to mine, her cheeks flushed red. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, and I could feel every muscle in my body clench tight as my cock twitched between my legs.

  Not good.

  Nothing about the thoughts roaring through my head were good, actually. Not thinking about how fucking beautiful she was, or how protecting her and guarding her from that piece of shit felt like the most fulfilling thing I’d done in years. Not about how the soft, smooth skin at her neck looked so fucking enticing, or how I could see just the littlest hint of bare belly between the top of her jeans and the hem of my hoodie as she’d lifted it.

  And definitely not how I wanted to run my hands all over her, and fucking kiss her, and feel her moan into my mouth.

  Not good thoughts, maybe, but there was no stopping them. The blood roared in my ears, and my hand on her arm tightened, until I was tugging her towards me. Cora swallowed heavily, her breath catching as we locked eyes.

  Fuck, she’s not MY student.

  Screw it.

  My other hand slid to her cheek, cupping her jaw, and as the gasp tumbled from her lips, I closed the distance between us and just fucking kissed her.

  Cora moaned into my mouth, panting as she parted her lips for me. I groaned, my blood blazing like fire through my veins. I knew it was wrong, and I did not care. Her soft, pouty lips tasted like fucking candy,
and her little gasps were like honey in my ears. I groaned, kissing her deeper, holding her tighter, and feeling the heat blaze between us. My hands tightened on her, and when I suddenly pulled her right into my damn lap, Cora moaned deeply, her hands cupping my face as she melted into me.

  My hands slid down to her sweet, tight little college-girl ass, grabbing it like it was mine and grinding her against me. My cock ached, pulsing rock hard between her thighs, and letting her know exactly how much I wanted her. I knew she could feel it too — every thick inch of my throbbing cock grinding against her pussy right through her jeans. My hands slid up to the waist of her jeans, pushing the hoodie higher and hooking a finger into the waist. She trembled against me, her soft, smooth skin making me growl like a fucking animal into her kiss as I traced my fingertips around her hips. Her belly caved as I slid my hands to her front, and when I popped the button of her jeans, she whimpered into the kiss, her tongue hungrily swirling with mine.

  Her zipper slid down, both of us groaning as I slid my hand inside, palm facing her. My fingertips slid under the lacy edge of her panties, and when I pushed them deep between her legs, she cried out into my mouth. My pulse hammered in my ears as my fingers slid through her slippery, velvety-soft pussy lips, her arousal leaking all over my hand and soaking her panties. I held her by the hip as I eased a finger inside, curling it deep in her impossibly tight cunt and grinding my palm into her clit.

  Cora moaned into my mouth, rocking on my lap and grinding herself against my hand. I slid a second finger inside, stroking them in and out. Her eager little cunt gripped them tight, sucking them back inside as her sticky cream coated my hand. She moved faster, kissing me hungrily and moaning into my mouth.

  “Just like that, princess,” I growled into her lips. I curled my fingers in and out of her, stroking at that little spot just inside as I rubbed her clit against my palm. “Make my fingers nice and fucking wet, baby,” I groaned. “Make them all messy with your sweet cum so I can lick them all clean.”

  Cora whimpered into my kiss, bucking her hips faster and clinging to my shirt as her body trembled for me.

  “Max, I—”