Page 74 of Unrivaled

Thing is, though, I don’t want to. I love football. Playing professionally has been my dream for as long as I can remember. Nothing and no one has ever made me reconsider that.

Until now …

If that were the only way for Tiffany and I to be together, would I do it?

But then what would I do? Yeah, I’ll have a degree in psychology, but I’d have to keep going to school to really be able to do anything with it. That was always a fallback idea, not the main plan.

Maybe I need to consider the fallback. Especially if losing Tiffany when I’ve just gotten her again is the consequence of pursuing Plan A. Would she ever forgive me for leaving again? Would she be willing to give long distance a try? Would she even consider coming with me?

After what she said last weekend about giving up everything for me again, I don’t even want to ask. But I worry I’ll regret my choices forever if I don’t at least bring it up as a possibility.

Not tonight, though. Tonight is supposed to be all about enjoying ourselves.

Which is why I nod when the waitress offers the dessert menu.

Tiffany regards me with raised eyebrows. “Dessert? You’re going way off plan tonight, aren’t you?”

I shrug. “I worked it so I can eat whatever I want tonight.” I give her my most mischievous smirk, accompanied by a lascivious wink in case my double entendre wasn’t clear.

She snickers, covering her mouth with her hand, but I don’t miss the way her cheeks turn pink. “Oh, really? And what exactly are you wanting toeat?”

My smirk pulls wider, and I glance at the dessert menu before meeting her eyes. “I feel like something creamy.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, then taps the menu. “They have a creme brûlée.” Her voice is all husky, and I can tell she’s trying hard to keep up with the pretense we’re talking about dessert and not me going down on her.

“Sounds delicious,” I tell her, my eyes never leaving her. “That might take the edge off my craving to start with. But I’ll have to finish my dessert once we get home.”

Reaching out, I caress the space between her first and second fingers, and she shivers at the contact, her eyes almost navy when they meet mine again.

I order the creme brûlée when the waitress returns, managing not to let on that my dick already wants to bust out of my pants. Good thing my coat goes down to mid thigh. Because I don’t think my hard on is going anywhere until after I get Tiffany home and satisfy us both.

* * *

The little minx teases me all through dessert, scooping up bites and lapping them slowly off her spoon, staring at me with a coy smile on her face the entire time, moaning with pleasure with each mouthful.

When I narrow my eyes at her, she just giggles. “You’re asking for it,” I growl.

Her eyes widen, and she makes an O with her mouth, holding her hand in front of it in a pin-up girl look of surprise. “What?” She lays her hand on her chest. “Moi? Asking for it?” Setting her spoon down, she lays her forearms on the table and leans closer, the deep V of her dress gaping to give me an even deeper view of her cleavage. “What exactly am I asking for?”

I scoop up the last of the dessert in one huge bite and shove it in my mouth, then raise my hand for the waitress’s attention, my eyes never leaving Tiffany’s. Her lips curl up in a Cheshire smile.

It seems like it takes ages for the waitress to run my credit card and come back, though I’m sure it’s only a couple of minutes. I overtip to make it easy to calculate and scrawl my signature, stuffing my card back in my wallet and pulling my coat off my chair so I can hide my dick while putting it on.

Tiffany, of course, stands more slowly, drawing her coat off the back of her chair, the satin lining making a swishing sound. Glowering at her, I hold out my hand for her coat, then hold it open for her. She rewards me with a beautiful smile of thanks.

And I kiss her. Hard. Fierce. Uncaring that we’re in a restaurant and people can see how much I want to devour her.

When I pull away, her smile is gone, her lips parted as she pants with arousal, her eyes glassy with lust.

“Let’s go,” I mutter softly in her ear.

Swallowing hard, she nods, threading her hand into the crook of my elbow as I hurry us out the door. I’m more thankful than ever that I found a parking spot close by, because if I don’t get home and inside this woman soon, I might die.

As soon as we’re both in the car, she leans in close, her fingers creeping over my thigh. I suck in a breath. “Jesus, Tiff. Careful or I might crash the car before we get back to my apartment.”

She chuckles, low and sexy. “Do you want me to stop touching you?”

I swallow hard. “No,” I croak. “Just don’t move, okay?”

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