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I made a huge mistake the last time I watched a home game by not showing him I cared and this time I’ll do whatever it takes for him to know.
He won’t check his messages. He never does during a game. But afterward maybe he’ll come find me.
I’m all hyped up during the rest of the game. Eli comes on for the last fifteen minutes, but he works up a sweat, slamming the puck across the ice, and I manage to work up a sweat watching him.
And when the game ends and we win, the sound of cheering is deafening. We all jump up and the rest of the box can see exactly whose name is on the back of my shirt, if they hadn’t noticed before.
I can’t bring myself to care.
I’m still grinning as I head back to my office and send the photo I took earlier to Eli, along with a message.
I’m completely naked under your jersey. – Mackenzie x
Locking the door, I shimmy off my jeans, along with my panties, bra, and socks. For good measure I find a pair of high, high heels with straps that criss cross my ankles. Then I reapply my make up and wait for a reply.
Where are you? – Eli
Come find me. – Mackenzie
There’s a pause, then I see the dots appear on the screen as he types.
Mac, I’ve got a boner the size of the Empire State building here. If I prowl the hallways I’m gonna end up getting arrested. Where the fuck are you? – Eli
I can’t help but grin. I send him another photo. This time of my legs and my shoes, my ankles crossed as I sit on my desk. To get the right angle, I have to contort my body into a completely unnatural shape, but my legs look good so it’s worth it.
Guess. – Mackenzie
In less than two minutes, he’s banging on my door, and I remember I locked it. Trying not to laugh at the way he jiggles the handle impatiently, I walk over and unlatch it, stepping back as he barrels inside.
“Lock it again,” he says, his voice thick.
His gaze sweeps down over my body. A little thrill rushes through me at the unashamed way he’s ogling me.
“Turn around,” he says when the door is secured.
So I do, the stiletto heels of my shoes hitting the tiled floor.
“Walk over to the desk.”
He doesn’t say please. It’s weird how I like that when usually I hate it. I want him to order me around. I want him to show me who’s boss.
We’re equals in every way, but sometimes a girl likes to play.
I stroll to the desk, my back toward Eli. I glance over my shoulder and he hasn’t moved. He’s looking at my legs, his eyes dark.
Placing my hands flat on the desk I lean forward, pushing my ass out and letting my back arch.
The jersey gathers around my hips, exposing me to him.
“Do you know how beautiful you look?” he rasps. “Did you wear that for me?”
“Yes.”
“Did people see you wear it?” he asks.
“Everybody,” I breathe.
There’s a shuffle. I want to look back but I also want to keep playing this game. The one where I’m his to do with as he pleases. Then I hear footsteps. Unhurried and steady.
