She laughs. It’s this loud, quirky sound I can’t quite describe, but it’s adorable. “Sure, right after you send me a dick pic so I can make sure the team orders you the right sized jock.”
“I’m not playing for the Thunder yet.”
“We like to be prepared.” If comebacks were an actual art form she’d be a master. It’s like a gift. “I’m just making sure you and Jasper have all your flight details.”
“Yep. And I can’t wait to no longer need a selfie or my imagination to know what you look like naked.”
“Elijah.” She says my name with a little lilt, even though she’s trying to be cautious. “You know the rules.”
“I know that you, as an employee of the Thunder hockey organization, cannot fraternize in a romantic way with members of the current roster of the San Francisco Thunder.” I’m almost whispering, even though I can hear the distant sounds of the Walking Dead video game coming from the living room. Jasper can’t hear this conversation. I gently kick the door closed before walking toward my bed. “I am not on the current roster of the Thunder.”
“You’re in the organization,” she replies.
“So is the dude who plays the mascot, but I bet no one would care if you gave him an orgasm,” I counter and sit on the edge of my bed.
“He’s fifty with a beer gut and smells like fake polyester bear fur,” Dixie retorts, and I chuckle. “But even if he were Chris Hemsworth, he’s not worth risking my career for.”
“Chris Hemsworth, huh?” I smirk. “That’s who does it for you?”
“He’s on the list, yeah,” she replies. “So are you.”
“Good to know.” I keep my tone light, but inside I’m feeling like a peacock with my feathers out. I like the idea that I’m on her list—a lot.
“The list is titled ‘People I Can Never Touch,’” she adds. Damn it.
“Lucky for you I don’t mind doing all the work,” I quip and flop back on my bed. “You can just lie there. I’ll do the touching.”
“You’re the worst.”
“I’m the best,” I argue and let my hand wander to the front of my towel. I’m already half hard and she’s not even talking dirty or anything. “I’m so good that I also read the fine print in my Storm contract and the no-fraternization policy expressly states with other Storm employees. You, sweet Dixie, are not a Storm employee.”
She doesn’t respond at first, and I know that means she’s thinking it over. I may actually get to do more than kiss her. And I honestly can’t wait. My hand moves from the growing bulge to the left side of my neck. I run my fingertips over the slightly raised, lightly puckered line that runs almost to the middle of my throat.
“I have to go. I have a meeting,” she says finally, which isn’t exactly the You’re totally right, Elijah, let’s fuck I was hoping for, but it’s better than I still won’t let you in my tight little power suit.
“You know, if this PR thing doesn’t work for you, you can always buy one of those little carts and sell hot dogs. You’d be great at it.” I smile up at the ceiling. “Because you already know how to make a wiener stand.”
She rewards my ridiculous pickup line with her adorable laugh again. “That one is groan-worthy.”
“But you’re not groaning,” I reply. “I can make you groan…or moan. Moaning is better actually.”
“Good-bye, Elijah.”
“See you tomorrow, sweet Dixie.”
The line disconnects, and I drop my phone beside me on the bed. My hand goes directly to my half-hard cock. I palm it and press down, giving it a firm rub through the rough towel. It feels good. I would love to make it feel even better, while fantasizing about Dixie, but I can’t. I have to finish packing, and Jasper will want to go out to eat soon, which means he’ll come barging in here.
I reluctantly let go of my dick after a few more rubs and pick up my phone again. Pulling the thin towel as taut as I can, I snap a picture. The outline of my now fully erect cock is perfectly visible. I text it to Dixie with the words See? You make wieners stand.
I don’t get a response and I don’t expect one. She’s working and I’ve got to give her some space to think about what I said. I don’t want her to lose her job, but the idea that I’ll be near her again and not be able to pick up where we left off is painful.
She just came back into my life at the right time. She is turning into the perfect distraction from the trouble I’m having on the ice. I don’t think this can go anywhere because our career trajectories make it impossible, which is probably fine. I just think we should work it out of our systems as soon as possible. A little harmless naked fun before it’s completely off-limits. She’s like this prize now. Something I have to conquer. And if I can win Dixie I’ll feel like I can do anything, maybe even get my damn hockey mojo back.
I spend the next several hours hanging out with Jasper—going out for food and coming home and playing video games—but the whole time I’m hoping I can convince her to feel the same way when I see her this weekend. Then, around eleven thirty when I crawl into bed, she texts me again. It’s a photo—a selfie taken in a mirror with her head cropped out. She’s wearing only a lacy black bra and undies with red piping. My jaw hits the ground and my cock grows rock-hard in seconds.
Before I can get my hand into my underwear and around my cock, she texts again.
I’m thinking of getting a job with UPS so I can handle your package.
