Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Windy

If a fairy godmother showed up and promised to set me up with Prince Charming, she couldn't dream up a moment as perfect as this one. Coach Deke McCree, hands down the sexiest college football coach in the history of ever, wants to be my Dominant. Not just my Dominant, my Daddy. I sort of thought that kinda kinky stuff only existed in books and movies, but here he is, turning fiction into reality. Making me dinner in his giant-sized kitchen.

"Paul said the trainers want you off those knees ‘til Thursday, so we're going to go carb-lite for dinner since you won't be working out for a few days. You told me this morning that you eat meat, but are there any allergies I need to know about to take care of you, little lush?" Right now, it looks like he's pulled an entire produce department out of his restaurant-size fridge. The rainbow of colors spread over the counter makes me smile. I love crunchy veggies; they're my favorite food.

"I'm ‘llergic to shellfish. They make me itchy. But I'm not allergic to bacon, Daddy." The word slips out, sooner than I expected to feel comfortable with it. Deke slowly sets down the big knife he'd been cutting florets of cauliflower with and turns. His eyes are locked on me like he's never seen anything so important in his life.

"Say it again, babydoll," he commands me. My whole body flushes with arousal from the way his possessive gaze devours me.

"Umm, Daddy. I can't have shellfish." When I say ‘Daddy,' his eyes blink slowly and he smiles so big a dimple pops out in his left cheek. I've never noticed it before.

Deke walks back around the island to where I'm still sitting, the food forgotten, and cups my cheek in his massive hand. He tips my face up to his and captures my lips in a gentle kiss. I almost can't believe it's possible for this giant man to be so tender. The tip of his tongue licks the corners of my mouth, and I giggle at the tickly feeling.

"Gonna be so good to you, babydoll. Gonna be the best Daddy of all time."

His promise sinks into me—An unbreakable vow that feels ironclad.

"Best Daddies feed their girls, Daddy. And your babydoll is hungry!" My tummy growls, and Deke rubs his warm palm over my stomach.

"I know, baby. You just distract me by being everything I ever wanted." Those warm words fill my soul, and I slump back in the chair to watch as he goes back to making us a veggie stir-fry with riced cauliflower for dinner.

I'm no expert in age regression or kink relationships, but I've read enough of my older sister's romance novels to have come across it a time or two. In books. Never in a bajillion years did I expect to be living one. Still, the more Deke talks about me being his Little girl, the more right it feels.

Dinner is delicious, and after we eat, Deke puts a show on the television for me to watch while he cleans up. If I twist to peek over the back of the sofa, I can see him in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with our plates and stuff. Every time he bends to put a pan or bowl on the bottom rack, his muscular tush stretches the fabric over the seat of his pants. It makes my heart race, just watching him.

"Little girl, you're doing more watching me than watching your show. Don't you like Teen Titans ?" Deke lifts an eye and watches me expectantly.

For a second I think about lying and pretending I'd want to watch something grown-up. The news maybe. Or sports recaps. Something worldly and intelligent to show him I'm smart and savvy enough to be a partner. Worry of displeasing him takes over, my brain racing a million miles an hour trying to guess what answer to give that will make him happy.

"Tell me what you're thinking right now, little lush."

Crap. There goes my chance to be witty and flirty. Why do I suck at this so much? Other girls I know are so effortless at getting guys to lust after them. I want Coach McCree to want me as a woman, not just a clumsy little kid.

"Um, I guess, I mean…" I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say.

Deke patiently waits me out while he uses the dishtowel to dry his hands. He walks to where I'm leaned over the back of the couch and cups his giant hand under my chin. He coaxes my face up until our eyes meet. The rough calluses from his years of playing football scratch against my skin, and it sends ripples of awareness over me.

"Take your time, precious. You're having some deep thoughts, I can tell. What's wrong?" His tender words have tears flooding my eyes.

"I want to be your babydoll, Coach, I mean, Daddy. I really, really do. But if I'm your Little girl, a submissive like you said, and you're my Daddy, then what about kisses and stuff?" In my sister's books, the Daddies were always picking their Littles up and carrying them off to bed. So far, Deke's done none of that.

Maybe real Daddies don't actually do that stuff?