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“Can you blame me when you look the way you do?”
“What about you!” I say. “Have you looked in the mirror lately, Rivers?”
He grins. “I like how that sounds.”
“The way I say Rivers?”
“Yeah.”
“You know what else I like?”
He shakes his head, amused.
“Your name on the back of your jersey. It’s sexy.”
“Sexy… My jersey?”
I nod.
“I’ve had fantasies about that, too,” he confesses.
I sip a little wine and look at him wide-eyed. “What fantasies?”
“Giving all my secrets away.” He sighs, shaking his head.
“You can’t not tell me now!” I shake my head.
“You really wanna know?”
“Please!” I’m bursting at the bit to know what his fantasies are, especially when he’s being a little coy about it.
He laughs. “Fine, you twisted my arm.”
I encourage him to go on.
“When you mentioned the jersey, and how I saw you wearing it that first time you went to the game in Seattle.”
“Ah, that.” I nod, remembering.
“I saw you from the ice, well, kind of. I didn’t see exactly who you were, just a cute girl wearing my jersey.”
“You did?”
He smiles. “Yeah, and then when I met you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you wearing it.”
I purse my lips because I know that can’t be the complete fantasy. I wait for him to elaborate as he watches my face. Maybe he’s gauging my reaction.
“I liked it a lot, Mads. Then my thoughts turned to you wearing my jersey, and only that.”
My eyes widen, as well as my smile. “Naked, wearing your jersey?”
“Exactly that.”
“Sounds pretty hot.”
“You’re telling me.”
I love this confession. I can imagine it now in my mind’s eye. Naked under his jersey, sitting on top, riding him, his hands holding me by the hips.
