Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Deke

If there's a single cosmic truth I know, it's that timing is always shit. Things just don't happen in the moments we wish for them, because fate laughs at our internally imposed schedules. Five weeks into a season where my boys are ranked top ten in the nation is most assuredly not good timing to meet the woman of my dreams. And Windy, while precious enough to have my instincts clamoring that she's the perfect Little girl for me, is absolutely not ready for what I'll demand from her.

I told myself after finding her the other night that I would wait until she finished her senior year before making her mine. Cosmic timing struck again this morning when I watched her sweet little body topple ass-over-teakettle across the field from where I run early morning conditioning drills with my O-line. In an instant, all my intentions to wait until my football and her soccer season are finished fly out the window.

Now she's staring up at me from the training table, the tears in her warm brown eyes making my chest tight, making me think I couldn't possibly have anything more important than her to attend to. My brain flickers to the routine drills my players should know well enough by now to complete even without my presence.

"We make time for what we value, little lush, so it's my decision to get you home and settled." I don't allow any room for argument in my voice. I permit myself a quick glance to catch her blush before unlocking my tablet and sending a message to one of the grad assistants who help the team. He can easily step in to finish the conditioning session while I attend to Windy.

"I'm not really, you know." Windy reaches out to tap my forearm as soon as it's clear I'm done typing out the message.

"Not really what?" Her leap in topics has me baffled. Surely she's not challenging my decision that she's important enough for my time.

"Not a lush. I really don't drink alcohol, like, ever. Not on purpose anyway." She's the cutest shade of pink as she tries to convince me. I realize that my sweet girl is naturally submissive enough that even speaking up to tell me I'm wrong is a challenge.

I'll never expect her to accept everything I say without question, but I'd be a liar if I didn't accept the rush of satisfaction that her instinctive obedience gives me. I've always been a controlling partner, even when I've tried dating vanilla women. The inborn need to dominate my partners has been the destruction of plenty of otherwise-happy relationships. It's why, after the last one blew up in an embarrassingly public manner, I've been waiting to find a woman who actually wants to be taken care of the way I need to take care of them, before dating.

"I believe you, Windy. I'm only teasing when I call you that. Paul told me you're a very good girl, one of his players who never breaks rules or gives him any trouble." The whole time I'm speaking, her little head is bobbing in agreement. I can tell it was really weighing on her, thinking I believed she was a naughty girl who broke team rules.

"It's okay if you tease me, Sir. Only I didn't like you thinking I broke Coach Vanderman's rules. That's Taryn's job." She giggles and covers her blush as she tattles on her friend. I love hearing her call me Sir, but hopefully soon she'll swap out the honorific for the one I really want to hear from her husky little voice.

"I know, babydoll. Although the rumor mill says Bodhi Wells might be putting a stop to all of that. Did you hear?" I lean in to whisper the campus gossip like I'm not already clued in to why Bodhi's babysitting Taryn. As unlikely as it might seem for the women's soccer and men's football coaches to be close, I've known Paul since I was an athlete here myself and he was only the assistant coach for the women's team.

"Come on then, little lush. Let's get you to your dorm so I can wrap these ouchie knees in ice packs." I scoop her into my arms, and just like before when I carried her, she wraps her arms around my neck and buries her face against my throat. I hoist her high enough that she won't be able to feel the way her nearness affects me. Little girls don't need to be bothered by their Daddy's hard-ons until the time is right.

"If you're sure it's okay, then thank you, Sir." The whispered words move her lips against my skin and want, liquid and rich like the smoothest brandy, burns through me.

I'm so focused on carrying her lithe little body to her dorm it doesn't even occur to me the spectacle we're undoubtedly creating.

Head Football Coach Carries Student Athlete to her Private Room.

That'll likely be the caption of social media post making its way around campus in the next few minutes, and by the time I realize it, we're nearly to her place. Too late to worry about the gossip mill now.

When we get to the women's athletic dorm where I know Windy has a room, I carefully jostle her around until she's perched on my hip like a toddler. Though she's petite, her little body is packed with firm muscles that give her thick curves a lithe grace. I've enjoyed watching the way she moves as she practices with her team in the cavernous indoor athletic facility all the teams share.

When I have her securely tucked against my side, her legs wrapped around me like she's a baby koala, I indicate the keypad to the elevator that will take us to her floor. I know she lives in this building from the other night, but I've resisted stalking her student records like some sort of creep.

"Use your passcode to get us to your floor, babydoll."

Windy obeys, and again when we get to the door to her room. The indicator light turns green but before she pushes the doorknob to open it, she looks up at me through thick lashes, shy suddenly, and I go on alert. Is there someone in there she doesn't want me to know about?

"I, um, I have a private room on account of being a senior, and…" She trails off and I'm honestly anxious about what she's so nervous to tell me.

"And?" Patience may be a virtue, but it ain't mine.