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“Fuck!” I expel. “Babe, I’m going to fucking come,” I say desperate to get off.
“I’m right… there,” she returns, her voice breathy.
Just as I feel the sensations zipping up my spine, her pussy contracts, she further arches her back and moans loudly with her eyes squeezes shut.
I increase my speed as I feel my cock swelling and releasing into her. With a final groan, I lay a line of kisses on her shoulder blade and pull myself out of her. I turn my body and grab the washcloth, add some liquid soap on the surface and begin rubbing her body down. She observes my movements with a loving smile as I clean her body from head to toe.
“When are you going to let me make an honest woman out of you?” I ask.
Sawyer and I have discussed getting married several times over the past year and each time, she’s redirected the conversation. It’s one thing or another that has stopped us. It’s the start of the season, it’s the end of the season, we should be focusing on enjoying the off-season, work is crazy, then with most recent the trade and the costs of moving.
I don’t think that she understands that I just want that stupid piece of paper that has my last name as hers. Since we’ve started dating, I’ve loved seeing her wearing my jerseys and with each day that passes, I get more carnal in wanting it to be official.
“Let’s cross that bridge when our plans are finalized,” she replies sweetly while I turn off the water.
I look to her and smile.
“Can I get that in writing?”
FIFTEEN
SAWYER
I AM STANDING in the administrative offices of the Arizona baseball field, unsure of exactly what I am doing here, but also just as eager to find out. Gunnar’s offer this morning was amazing and too good to pass up, so he didn’t. I made an appointment as soon as I could, so I could find out what this unofficial request was.
We may be jumping in too fast, but I don’t want to prolong what the next step in our lives would be.
“Ms. Rotham. My name is Dwayne Bates. I’m the director of media relations for the Gila Monsters. We understand that you work as a Marketing Consultant with Open Public Sourcing and for four years you were exclusive to the San Diego Hornets, is that correct to assume?” A middle-aged man asks me as he comes to stand in front of me, startling me with the start of the conversation with his hand out.
I take his hand and firmly shake it. “Yes sir, however the team decided to go in an alternative direction with their marketing and media decisions and went with an in-house individual.”
“You weren’t willing to continue?” He asks motioning to the office with an open door.
We enter the space and I take a seat, as he takes the seat beside me instead of behind the large oak desk.
“No sir, I was not given the option or request.” I reply.
He nods his head, looks down at the papers in front of him and then continues. “Now, I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of Gunnar Reynolds, but the owners of the organization informally added a mention of you in their response to Gunnar this morning to perhaps sweeten the deal. We value the families of our players just as much as they value the players themselves. Now, my offer is by no means contingent on Gunnar’s decision, but we did our homework. In addition, I liked what you did with the Hornets. I know that Gunnar and you have a lot on your plate, but we would be honored to have you join our department and our family.” He asks.
I’m in shock; this wasn’t what I was expecting when I walked into these offices. I was expecting them to coach me on what to say to the reporters when it came to the trade, I wasn’t expecting a job offer.
I sat in shock for the remainder of the meeting, where Dwayne went over a contract for my employment with the organization and a very flattering compensation package. I left the meeting stunned to say the least, but with a promise to discuss everything over with Gunnar and get back to them. We were in town for another day before I would travel back home on my flight directly after the game and Gunnar would head home on the team plane with the rest of the guys later in the evening.
Still in shock, I spent the remainder of the day in a blur at the game with a few of the other players girlfriends that I’ve gotten close to over the last few years, still in shock from my meeting and excited to relay the news over to Gunnar.
THERE IS SOMETIMES nothing better than wearing a fluffy robe, slippers and eating food from room service. I lean back against the headboard of the hotel suite’s luxury king sized bed in our room, with the remote in one hand and my plate of French fries sitting on my lap. Gunnar would be back to the room to celebrate the Hornets win as soon as the ‘after game’ meeting was over.
I was happily clicking through the movie channels of the hotel and munching on a late night snack. I have the folder that Dwayne gave me full of information for my future sitting beside me on the nightstand and every now and then, my gaze will wander over to it, still in complete shock of everything that’s unfolded over this weekend.
I hear the door open, close, a few thumps here at there from what I assume is Gunnar dropping his bag, and then a moment later, he walks into my view dressed in a crisp clean dress shirt and gray slacks. His sleeves are folded a quarter of the way up highlighting his tattooed muscular arms.
“Congrats on the win.” I smile.
“I hear that a congrats should be in order for you too.” He smiles as he toes off his shoes and climbs on the bed, lays on his stomach and grabs a fry.
“Wow, news travels fast.” I say reaching over, grabbing the file and handing it to him.
“A birdie told me that the Gila’s offered you a position, I guess it looks like both our futures are set.” He thumbs through some of the documents and whistles. “This is more than what you make at OPS. Did you accept?”
