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Me: Thanks. It was fun.
* * *
I wasn’t banged up and bruised like a regular season game. This one didn’t count toward a team’s record since it was just for fun. While it was for the league and advertisers to make money, the players got to do what we all loved. Play. No pressure. There were less hits. No fights.
* * *
Sugar: Did I wake you?
Me: I’m amped from the game.
* * *
And her texts.
* * *
Sugar: I have something for you for when you get home. A present for your hat trick.
* * *
Now I was intrigued.
* * *
Me: What is it?
* * *
There was no response right away and just when I was ready to type back some question marks, a photo appeared.
“Holy fuck.”
I was instantly hard. It was a selfie of Lindy kneeling on our bed in a turquoise nightie. It had sexy little cutouts that hinted at her bare skin, including the bottom curves of her breasts. I pressed my hand against my dick to calm it down.
* * *
Me: Now. I want my present now.
Sugar: You’re not here.
* * *
For once, I was homesick. My dick and I agreed, there was no fucking way we were waiting until we got back to Montana to unwrap that present.
* * *
Me: I’m opening a video chat. Answer.
* * *
I hit the little movie camera icon and waited five seconds for her face to appear. Her blonde hair was down and tousled, as if she’d fluffed it with her fingers. I could see the headboard behind her and the light comforter beneath her. I longed to be there with her. Make her grip that headboard as I took her from behind.
* * *
“Sugar,” I practically growled.
“Dex.”
