“That's so wrong. You should be number one.” I’m upset on his behalf. He’s the best player in college football despite being a junior, and despite not being a quarterback or left tackle.
He shrugs, clearly not disappointed. “I'm happy. I'm playing with a contender. They have Oliver Graham and he’s got a rocket for an arm. If he can get his interception ratio down, the team will have a real chance at a title.” He rubs his hands together. “Besides, the difference in signing bonus for the first and third picks is barely a million. Seventeen versus sixteen. I'm really not broken up about that.”
“I don’t care about the money,” I tell him. “I just think you deserve first.”
“As long as I’m first to you, baby.” He winks. “There's a shit ton of good schools in New York City. Like Columbia. If you move with me, we can set up residency, and you'd get in-state tuition to SUNY if you still insist on paying your own way.”
This last bit comes out a little disgruntled. We’ve had some arguments about money. Even though we’re married, I want to work and pay my way through college. I only have a year and a half left, and I know I can do it.
“So I should move with you to New York?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“All right.” I pick up my wine glass and take a hefty swallow.
“But if you don't—wait. What?” He tilts his head as if not quite sure he’s heard me.
“I'll move.”
“You will?”
After we’d gotten married, I told Knox I planned to stay in school, but as the semester wore on, with me waiting tables while Knox cooled his heels in classes and worked out every spare minute, I realized I didn’t want to be separated from him.
“I don't want to live without you. And I think flying to all your games would be impossible, so I'm willing to move to New York. I’m sure I can get a job somewhere, and I’ll save more money given the higher wages. Granted, that will be easier because I'm living with you.” His mouth hangs slightly open. I frown. “You going to say anything?”
In a slightly peevish tone he replies, “I've been working on my argument and you've kind of ruined it.”
Laughing, I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “You can fill me in later at the hotel room, and I'll be in the proper position to say yes.”
“What's that position?” His voice deepens.
“Whichever one you'd like,” I reply saucily and squeeze my legs together at the thought of what positions he likes best.
“Do we have to finish this dinner?” he whines.
“Yes.” I smooth my napkin over my lap. “Your agent is coming, along with your parents and Ty.”
Knox drums his fingers against the white tablecloth. “No, I don't think I can wait.” He takes my hand and places it between his legs. My fingers curl reflexively around the quickly thickening shaft. He groans. "You know what's on my list? Bathroom sex."
"We've had that,” I respond primly but I don’t remove my hand. It feels too good around his hard length. “We did it in the second floor bathroom in Walker Hall and the basement bathroom in Carter along with the nightclub in Miami that your agent took us to."
"Mmm." He looks upward. "That was a good night. Real good."
I blush because it’s actually one of my favorite memories too. Knox and I clung to each other on the dance floor of this incredibly posh nightclub and then found out the bathrooms in the VIP section were individual rooms. Knox made good use of that privacy. He pushed me over the sink, ripped my panties down, and hammered into me so hard I worried the sink would break off. That is, I worried until I couldn't focus on anything but his hard cock driving into my—
“Stop thinking about that night,” he growls in my ear. I jolt to attention.
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
He grunts. “Your eyes are all glazed and your cheeks flushed. Your hand is glued to my dick. It's like you want me to throw you down on the table.”
I don't want that…do I? I look at the table and then at the surrounding patrons. It’s very crowded but the pulse between my legs begins to throb uncomfortably.
“Ahem.”
Knox and I look up to see Ty rolling his eyes. I pull my hand off Knox’s dick. Knox and I look at Ty and then at each other.
“Ty, you look very nice in your suit,” I say and pull the napkin off my lap to set it on the table.
His eyes narrow. “Um, thanks.”
Knox and I stand as one.
“So, here's the deal,” Knox says. “I need to go back to the hotel. Ellie's not feeling well.”
I place a limp, maidenly wrist to my forehead and moan in what I hope is a sickly, not sexy, way.
“Right,” Ty snorts.
Knox thrusts his napkin against Ty’s chest. “You’re me tonight. Don't sign anything and text me if the deal gets close.”
“Bye!” I wave to Ty as Knox drags me away.
Not even the entrance of his parents or his agent slows him.