Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Deke

The team's hotel of choice isn't where the football team stays when we play here. Small stroke of good fortune, I guess that being a smaller squad means each player gets their own room. As a football coach traveling with nearly a hundred and fifty people, not just players but coaching staff, assistants, and trainers, our accommodations are never this nice. I'd expected to have to source my own hotel for the night, and was pleasantly surprised when Paul slyly suggested turning Windy's single occupancy room into a double.

"Can you walk, sweetheart? Or are you too tired?" There's no fancy valet at this chain bargain hotel, but the parking spots are right against the sprawling building so we don't have far to go.

"I don't wanna walk, but I can," she mumbles.

I recognize the adrenaline crash that always hits after a game, even a win, though these days it's a lot less brutal.

For a player on a soccer field, especially a midfielder, it's not uncommon to run over five miles during a single game. And that's leaving out all the maneuvers and skills required to manage the ball and other players. Soccer was never my game, but the sheer physicality of the sport has always amazed me. In football, we go hard for a couple minutes at a stretch. Soccer demands a sustained level of athleticism for nearly two hours with only a brief break at the midpoint.

What Windy needs now is a lot of protein, carbohydrates, and electrolytes to replenish what she expended during the match. Once I get her into her room and under the relaxing spray of hot water in the shower, I'll order a dinner delivery and pamper my sweet, stressed-out and exhausted Little girl. Once the truck's in park, I unbuckle and look across the cab to see she's already dozed back to sleep. Sweaty tendrils of her long hair have escaped their braid and cling to her cheeks and neck.

"You really are such a beauty." My quiet comment doesn't rouse her, and that's fine. The words needed to be spoken, like truth demanding to be released into the universe.

The overly romantic thought makes me chuckle. I've never been one for that kind of overly quixotic rambling, but meeting Windy has awoken something inside me—a side of myself coded to her specifically, brought forth by her presence. Just sitting here in a parking lot, watching her sleep with the golden light of the sun going down fills me with contentment.

It's tempting to let the moment drag out, just enjoying knowing that after all this time, all this searching for the other half of my soul, she's finally here. We're finally here. But I know if I don't get her cleaned up and relaxing soon, she'll pay for it tomorrow, so I turn the truck off and go around to her side. She barely rouses at the cabin light coming on and I'd be worried if the post-game crash wasn't so universal.

"Let me carry you, precious." I'm not asking, but she nods sleepily and wraps her arms around my neck when I pick her up from the seat. It's a good thing the women's soccer team doesn't have to do the press junket the way the men do after their football games. I'm sure she'd fall asleep at the interview podium if they did.

"Good girl, let's get inside and get you cleaned up." Holding her this way as I navigate to her room lets me press kiss after kiss to her temple. Her phone's got the electronic keycard set up through the app, a neat trick she told me about when we video-chatted this morning. I hadn't told her I was coming to the game, wanting to surprise her.

"Windy, you'll need to unlock your phone so we can open the door." It's strange carrying on this conversation completely one-sided, but my girl is definitely not a light sleeper.

"Windy, come on sweetheart. You're the only one that can open the door here." A situation I will be addressing before we next leave the room.

"Three, six, two, one," she mumbles.

"What?"

"Phone's three, six, two, one." This time she sounds more awake, and I put her on her feet leaning against the wall by the door.

"If that's the phone code, I'm glad you feel safe sharing it with me, but sweetheart, you have your phone."

"I do?" she asks, her scrunched-up face adorably confused.

"Yes. You took it from your bag and put it in your hoodie pocket before we left in case Taryn called?" This time I can't hold back my laughter.

Windy pats at her pocket like she didn't even realize she had one, then pulls her phone out triumphantly.

"I got it!" she crows.

"Yeah, you do. Now, be my good girl and open the door. You're dead on your feet and you smell kinda funky."

Windy sticks her tongue out at me but obeys, completely nonplussed by being told she stinks. Sweat's unavoidable in our world, and I'm relieved she's not self-conscious about it.

"Thass my shinnies, Daddy. They gotta get sprayed every time I wear them or they're stinky-yucky." The hint of baby talk catches me off guard in the best way.

Windy hasn't had much chance to explore what the Daddy-Little dynamic will mean for her. Sure, she's let me take care of her and is happy to have me make decisions. But I know there's a sweet Little girl inside her waiting for the opportunity to peek out.

The fantasy of a lifetime being the safe space for her to retreat from adulthood fills me with quiet pride. In the past, the drive to dominate my partner has centered round ensuring their pleasure and my own. The feelings I have for Windy are so much deeper, more encompassing than anything I've felt before. There's a need inside me to be everything to her. For her.

"Then let's get those stinky, yucky clothes off and get you back to being my smell-good princess." I hold her phone up for her to type in the code, hiding my grin at the way her tongue pokes out in concentration.

"Three, six, two, one," she mumbles.

This time, the number sequence registers, and the curiosity has me blurting, "Is that our ages, babygirl?"

She nods her head and buries her face under my chin in embarrassment. I'm utterly charmed, for the thousandth time, by her sweet naivety. She's so innocently adorable it's impossible not to be captivated.

I navigate to the hotel's app and open the door before tumbling Windy through it. The two of us make it to the utilitarian love seat in the tiny sitting area of the suite. I settle her onto it so I can kneel in front of her to take her knee-high socks and shinguards off, the latter being every bit as stinky as she predicted.

"Spray's inna bag, Daddy." Windy giggles at my scrunched nose and points to her duffel. I probably go overboard squirting the deodorizer on everything, but the way it makes her laugh makes up for it.

"Alright, can you shower without help or do you need me?" I wish I could clone myself so I could both help her bathe and get food sorted. But then I'd just wind up jealous of my own clone for helping to take care of her. I'll have to settle for just one of me.

"I can do it. I guess," she grumbles.

"Don't be a grumpy girl. I'm going to order you dinner while you clean up. If you're a good girl, I'll make sure there's some dessert, too." One thing I've discovered really quickly is that the more tired or stressed out she is, the more she wants sweets.

"I'm not grumpy, Daddy! I'm a good girl!" She smirks. I let my eyes follow her as she teases me the whole walk into the small bathroom. She pulls off her jersey, then her sports bra, then her soccer shorts and the tiny athletic briefs underneath. Even through the sweat and turf grime, she's a stunner.

I force my focus off her ass and onto filling her tummy. The hotel's in the center of an area devoted to entertainment, visitors and conferences so there's plenty of restaurants able to deliver dinner quickly. I'm sure I order too much food, but I remember how my stomach always felt like a bottomless pit after games, and I'll be damned if I let Windy be hungry later.

The sound of water splashing in the shower distracts me from everything once I've submitted the order. I can hear the way the pattern of the water changes as she moves under the spray and my imagination goes wild envisioning her athletic build flexing and relaxing under the torrent of hot water.

Fuck it. The food won't be here for nearly an hour and that's plenty of time for me to make sure my little lush gets every sexy dip and hollow spotless.