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CHAPTER 8
Windy
Coach McCree doesn’t takeme back to the sporting facility. Instead, he loads me into his big SUV and drives us to a diner far enough from campus, it’s unlikely we’ll run into anyone I know. I don’t know whether that’s for his benefit, or mine. I’m not asking, either. Maybe it’s silly, but I really like that he’s not asking me a bunch of questions about what I want to do. Guys my age are always so wishy-washy about decisions and since I am too, it makes even hanging out more stressful than it needs to be.
Like most places in Mariposa, the diner’s got a themed name.The Flutter By Brunch Spotis as cute as any of the other butterfly-named places around, and I can’t help the smile that stretches my cheeks. One of the biggest reasons I wanted to play for the Kingettes, despite the dumb name everyone gives the women’s teams at the school, is how adorable the whole town is.
My older siblings love to give me a hard time about clinging to my status as the baby of the family. They tease that it’s because I don't want to be a grown-up and have to stop playinggames and being a kid. It’s always an argument at holidays when I want to hang out or play video games with my nieces and nephews instead of chatting with the adults.
Honestly, the kids of the family are way less boring than the grown-ups. All they talk about is who is getting promoted or what high-yield dividend accounts—blah blah blah. The way I look at it is that I have decades spanning out ahead of me where I’ll be expected to devote myself to a career and a mortgage and being super adulty in every way. The time to enjoy playing with my Lego and watching cartoons is finite.
“Little lush, where did you go just now? I don’t think you’ve heard a word I’ve said.” Deke doesn’t sound mad, but when I look around and realize I somehow spaced off enough that I missed our entire walk into the diner and getting to a table and seated, I can’t help but brace myself for him to get irritated.
“M-my mom says my head’s always in the clouds. I’m sorry, Coach… er… I mean, Deke. Sir.” Saying his name out loud feels surreal. Deke McCree is larger than life in every way that counts. Even more than being a famous football demi-god, he’s revered on campus for how well he treats his players. He’s also sex-on-a-stick and big as a barn. Tall, fit, commanding. Larger than life.
“Whatcha eating this morning, Coach? One of these days you really oughta splurge and get the stuffed French toast. It really is the best in the universe.” Our waitress grins at Deke like they’re old friends, then smiles warmly at me. A knot of tension I didn’t even know I was holding in my shoulders eases. I guess a small part of me was worried that people would think it’s odd for a nobody like me to be eating breakfast with Coach McCree.
“I’d like my usual, Monique. And Windy will have a protein waffle with fruit and…” He pauses to look at me. “Do you eat meat, babydoll?”
I nod, because bacon. I’ve never had a protein waffle before, but something tells me interrupting Deke to order something different isn’t a good idea.
“Okay, so a protein waffle with fruit, a cheese omelet, side of bacon and a glass of milk for my babydoll.” Deke smiles at me like I’ve done something that pleases him, and a happy bubble fills my middle.
I like it when he calls me his little lush, but when he calls me his babydoll, it makes me feel squirmy and squishy inside. I want to be his dolly. A toy he cherishes and takes care of. I want him to keep me.
“I want you to eat all of this breakfast, Windy. And we’ll get a sandwich to take away for your lunch since you’ll need to rest those injuries at least the rest of the day. I’ll send Paul a message to ask him to have one of your teammates bring you dinner from the dining hall,” he says.
“I can just order a delivery for lunch, Sir. You don’t have to do so much for me.” I don’t want to be greedy with his time. He’s super important, even if he says he gets to choose what’s important enough for his time. The whole team depends on him, and the whole state watches the team.
“Pretty sure I already covered this, earlier. I get to decide where and how I spend my time and focus, little lush. Now, I want you to remember this next bit; I don’t like having to repeat myself. Have I given you any reason to doubt the truth of anything I’ve said? No?”
I nod my head, because Coach McCree keeps rescuing me, sure, but he’s known everywhere for being a straight shooter who is honest to a fault.
“Then eat your breakfast like a good girl, and stop trying to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” He cocks an eyebrow in perfect timing for our server to put the plates of our breakfasts down in front of each of us.
CHAPTER 9
Deke
My poor dickis so confused. Every time Windy calls me ‘Sir,’ it feels like every drop of blood in my body rushes to flood my groin with hot, lusty need. Then my brain reminds me she's not using the honorific as part of a scene and we’re not in a club. By the time my cock relaxes and I can take a full breath without drowning in desire, she’ll do something else that’s adorable and get it all riled up again.
“Can you finish your milk, babydoll?”
She’s done a good job cleaning her plate, but the milk sits half-drunk in the glass while she eyes my coffee cup like it holds the keys to happiness.
“I don’t really like milk, Sir. At least, not cold milk.” Immediately the image of cradling her in my arms and giving her a bottle of warm milk pushes to the front of my mind. Tenderness washes through me, the fantasy more real than any I’ve ever had.
Possibilities race through me, centering around making Windy Howell my Little Girl. If I’m honest with myself, shealready is mine. The process of opening her eyes so she sees what a darling, submissive Little she is can’t possibly be too difficult, considering she’s already most of the way there instinctively.
“Let’s make a deal, then. I’ll have our server, Sharon, exchange the cold milk for a hot chocolate,” I say.
“And for my part of the deal?” She might not be agreeing immediately, but it’s obvious she’s going to.
“For your end of the deal, I want you to promise me there’ll be no more skipping meals before practices, conditioning sessions, or games.”
“What happens if I do? Like if Coach Vanderman makes me come early again?” Her question makes my palm itch to turn her cute backside red.
“Well, babydoll, that would be a naughty decision you’d be making. And naughty choices have consequences.”
