Page 129 of Need You to Choose Me

I guess there’s no denying who it is since the photos came out. Since then, most of them have disappeared and the talk has died down.

Giddiness fills my chest as I pull my keys out to my room, tucking the box under my arm until I can set my things down on my unmade bed.

I’m careful not to ruin the ribbons as I untie them, setting them aside to open the box. When I see the jersey inside, my lips part in shock over the name and number.

Then I see the note.

Wear this to the game and make sure it’s the only thing you wear in my bed thatnight

Biting my lip, I lift the jersey up and examine his last name stitched in white block lettering across the back. I can only imagine what Sebastian is going to say whenthissurfaces onlinelike it’s bound to. Before now, Henderson is the only name I’ve ever worn at games.

And I’d be dumb not to admit that Alex’s post-game plans sound enticing. Theyreallydo. Because my vibrator doesn’t quite match the kinds of things he does to me with his hands, and my vivid imagination doesn’t nearly do his talent justice when I think about his mouth and cock between my legs.

The thought of wearing his jersey, his name, while staring down at his dark head of hair between my thighs is torture of the purest kind.

I pull my phone out, about to snap a photo of the present in the box when I have a different idea. Stripping out of my clothes, I slide the jersey on and stand in front of the full-length mirror attached to my standing armoire.

The picture I take is from the neck down, showcasing the jersey on me and nothing else. I’ve never taken a picture like this before, but the thought of Alex getting it…

Well, he deserves a little torture too.

His response is almost immediate.

Alex:Now let’s see it off you

I grin, knowing what he means.

I slide the jersey off and let it drop to the floor, snapping a photo of the piled material by my feet and sending it to him.

Alex:Lift the camera to the mirror

Biting down on my bottom lip, I take a picture of my bare legs and send it to him.

Alex:If you keep this up, you’re going to be in trouble when I see you. That’s a promise, baby girl

Olive:I can get behind that promise

I get a photo in return.

“Damn,” I whisper to myself, staring at the tented shorts. There’s no mistaken that the picture excited him, and it gives me a little extra confidence.

Olive:I hope you’re not at practice

Alex:We’re reviewing game tapes

I giggle.

Olive:Hopefully it’s dark

Alex:I’d hate for the team to think watching the Krakens does something to me

The snort comes before I can help it.

Olive:So I guess sending this wouldn’t be a good idea?

Before I second guess myself, I send him a picture of my boobs. It’s faceless, with a focus on the area he definitely loves paying special attention to.

When it delivers, I don’t let myself regret it. What do I have to feel bad about? Nothing.

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