Page 63 of Fielder's Choice

“Not until I answer your question.” Lane’s voice turns husky, bringing back that now-familiar sensation. “Yes, Olive. I did ‘take care of that.’ And since I’m not one to lie or withhold information, I did indeed think about you while I did.”

“Oh my God,” I breathe. Suddenly, I’m dizzy, as if the room is spinning, and I can’t find my footing.

“Don’t take that as pressure,” he interjects. “I just like you to know exactly where my head is at.”

“R-right,” I stammer.

“Am I coming on too strong now?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I just have to get used to it.”

“Why don’t you get some beauty sleep, Ballerina? You sure as hell don’t need it, but you got up early this morning.”

“Yeah,” I say, pretending to yawn. “That seems like a good idea. Good night, Lane.”

“Good night, Olive.”

As soon as the call disconnects, I toss my phone on the bed and take a deep breath.

I don’t know how to feel right now.

Scratch that—maybe I do because that feeling is still there. The one Lucia so eloquently put into words for me.

I’m horny hearing about how my student’s father got himself off while thinking of me.

And that has me wondering…

Should I… try that?

I don’t know what I’m doing, and the idea gives me anxiety, but the more I reclaim myself, the more I desire to have the experiences I missed out on or just haven’t had.

It’s how I find myself slipping my hand into my leggings, resting it between my thighs. I slide one finger inside myself, and I audibly gasp. It feels… good. It feels even better when I move that finger in and out.

But it’s not getting methere. I try, and I try, and I try again, but no amount of pumping pulls me over the edge. I may not have ever had an orgasm, but I know I should still be able to make it happen.

But I can’t.

Maybe I’m too in my head. Maybe I’m overthinking everything.

All I know for sure is that while my reproductive system may be semi-functional, I sure as hell don’t know how to use it.

“How was your weekend, Olive?”

I look over at Corinne from my spot on the plush sofa in her office and give her a soft smile. “I actually had a really great weekend.”

“That’s wonderful,” she smiles. “What did you do?”

“Well, one of my new friends got engaged on Saturday. We all gathered at her and her now-fiancé‘s place for a surprise party to celebrate them. It was really nice.”

“Was Lane there as well?”

“He was. Her fiancé is one of Lane’s teammates, so he and Sage were both there. I had a good time hanging out with my friends and spending more time with Lane. I kind of kissed him after the party.”

Corinne looks at me over the rim of her glasses, a playful smirk on her face. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” I blush. “We had a moment before the party where it seemed like he was going to kiss me, but we were interrupted by one of our friends. When I asked him about it afterward, he said he wanted to kiss me, so I decided to just kiss him instead.”

“You’ve come a long way, Olive. Even a year ago, I’m not sure you would have had the confidence to do that.”

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