Page 19 of Her Nebraska Touchdown Daddy

His eyes soften even as desire blows his pupils wide. Stubble rasps against me as he nuzzles my face before brushing kisses over me. My cheeks, my chin, the tip of my nose, my eyelids as the fall closed in pleasure. The tip of his tongue traces the path of my tears.

“Daddy’s here and you’re going to let me take care of you. Do I make myself clear?” It’s not really a question, but I nod my head anyway. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Yes, what?” he challenges.

“Yes, Daddy.” The words come so easily and a feeling of rightness clicks into place.

CHAPTER 23

Deke

“Consideryourself lucky you’re in no shape to be punished tonight, little lush. Because you definitely will not like the spanking you’ve got coming nearly as much as you liked your first one.” Just thinking about the scene I walked in on tonight has me getting angry all over again.

In all honesty, I wouldn’t punish Windy tonight even if she wasn’t still overly chilled and borderline ill. The fear I felt seeing her curled up in that ice bath is too fresh. Our dynamic, the Daddy/Little girl one, requires a level head. Right now, I’m definitely not in the right headspace to dole out a spanking.

“Okay, Daddy.” Her husky little voice calling me Daddy soothes as much as it inflames.

Leaving her on the bed, I collect the things I know she’ll need for the next few days. Soccer gear into the duffel with the university’s logo on the side. Clothes to wear to class in a drawstring bag hanging over the back of her chair. Textbooks and her laptop into her backpack. She won’t need pajamas or clothes to hang around the house in, because once I get her tomy place, she’s going to find out what being my Little girl really means.

While she’s been running from me the past few days, I’ve been making plans and preparing. Shopping and ensuring my house is ready for her. It’s clear to me Windy’s struggling to handle things, and now that I’ve pieced a bit of the puzzle together, she doesn’t have to do it alone.

“Need anything I’m overlooking?” I ask.

“No, Daddy. But can I please take my—” She gestures with her chin, her arms still swaddled in towels and blankets, at the pillow wedged against the wall behind the bed.

“Sure, Sweetheart. We can take your special pillow,” I promise.

“It’s Kickles,” she responds, and I’m confused why she’d name a pillow until I reach over her to grab it. The pillow-shaped blob is actually a much-loved stuffed soccer ball with the World Cup logo embroidered on the side. It’s cute, and totally a Windy kind of stuffy. Every new thing I learn about my sweet girl convinces me that she’s a natural Little and absolutely perfect for me.

“Of course we can take your Kickles. Anything else?” I smile when she shakes her head and damp tendrils of hair tangle in a halo on the pillow.

“Umm, maybe I can get dressed first though?” She’s adorable. Stubborn and still in so much trouble for risking herself, but adorable.

“Daddy will dress you before we leave. You stay just like that, warming up for now. We’re just lucky you weren’t in that water any longer than you were. You could have chilled yourself into serious complications, little girl.”

Am I harping on it? Of course I am. Who wouldn’t after the week this has been? I push her stuffy into the bag with her booksand zip everything up before grabbing sweats and a track suit from her drawers.

“I’m gonna wear both?” she asks.

“Absolutely you are. It’s cool outside and you’re still chilled. Consider yourself lucky I don’t bundle you in a parka and carry you out of here like an Arctic explorer.”

She giggles and that tight knot in my chest eases a fraction. I root around the tangled blankets and towels to get to her feet so I can rub my hands over the chilled skin to bring some heat to her. Tiny toes and high arches speak to her delicate size compared to my oversized self, but there are calluses and tough spots where blisters on top of blisters have healed. Her feet remind me of how hardworking and dedicated to her sport she is. A perfect match for a guy like me who has devoted so much of his life to a game.

When I feel like I’ve warmed her feet as much as my hands can manage, I pull on a couple of the thickest fuzzy socks I could find in her drawer. They’ve got printed Chibi versions of Marvel characters dancing all over them and I can’t even pretend not to be charmed. Windy is such a Little at heart, and was even before she knew such a thing existed.

“They’re silly. I know.” She’s too chilled to blush. The way she bashfully bites her lower lip isn’t deliberately sexy. My body still reacts, as inappropriate as the timing is, to her awkward shyness. It’s an effort to remain focused when all I want to do is peel away the towels and blankets and give her skin-to-skin body heat to warm her up, but this isn’t the place to risk it.

Next I wiggle the thick pale-blue sweatpants over her feet and up her calves, working blind to dress her without unwrapping her from the warm cocoon. There’ll be plenty of time in the future to enjoy her athletic curves, but right now I need to get her dressed warm enough to handle the trip to my house.

“No panties?”

She’s awful sassy for a girl with a butt roasting coming her way.

“You won’t need them,” I grunt.

“Unless…” I pause, the words choking in my throat. “You need to use your safeword? I know we haven’t… haven’t talked about all of this.”

“I don’t need it, I promise.” Her lips distract me, the small smile she’s giving me tempting me to abandon everything and get lost in loving her.

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