In the End Zone: A Sports Romance (3 page)

Chapter Five

Morgan chewed on her pencil
nervously as she waited for the parade of football players to come by her desk
on the seventh floor. She had managed to get all of the big ones agree to
10-minute interviews throughout the course of the day, with video interviews
the next week. She had her list laid out in front of her, and every time her
eyes swooped over the names, the last one of the day made her stomach flip:
Brent Larson.

She had already done the first
two for the day. Two defensive linemen came up to her office first and were
giddy at the idea of being interviewed. The first was soft spoken and Morgan
got the sense that he was a true "gentle giant." The second kept
talking of his mother, and he ended the interview with the words "my mama
is going to be so proud of this!"

Next up was Sam Smythe, the
quarterback. She had met him once before in the locker room on the day that she
interviewed Coach Boss for the first time. And she recognized him immediately
when he stepped off the elevator. Sam was tall and lean, with cocoa-brown skin
and small dreadlocks smoothed back over his head. The one thing that stuck out
to Morgan was how kind and understanding he always seemed to be. Sam gave off
the aura of the perfect person to be best friends with, or to share a coffee
with. When Morgan waved him over, his face broke into a wide grin, showcasing
his perfect teeth that made all of the
girls
swoon.

Morgan watched Sam as he walked
over and she could see why all of the women went gaga for Sam. He really was a
handsome man. His dark brown eyes glittered kindly at her as he approached, and
when they shook hands, Morgan could almost hear the jealous cries of a million
women behind her
. Why is he not having
that effect on me?
she wondered.

"Thanks for meeting with
me, Mr. Smythe," Morgan said as the pair sank into chairs across her desk
from each other.

"Anytime," Sam said,
"But call me Sam."

Morgan smiled. "Okay, Sam.
Call me Morgan."

The interview went great. Morgan
found Sam to be easy going and a breeze to talk to. With every question, the
star quarterback remained humble and his answered showcased his generosity and
sweetness. But Morgan was not swooning in her seat. She was not falling under
his spell like every lady before her. When Morgan would glance around the room,
she saw more than a dozen of her female coworkers leaned over their desks,
watching Sam Smythe and practically drooling over the man. So, what was wrong
with Morgan?

After the 10 minutes were up,
Morgan set down her pad and pencil and she said, "Well, that's all the
questions that I have for you, Sam."

That thousand-watt smile beamed
again. "Great! That was not too bad."

"Nah, I like to keep it
simple."

Sam leaned forward in his chair
and his hushed voice commented, "Can I tell you a secret? It was so nice
to talk to a woman who wasn't gaping at me or fawning all over me. Very
refreshing."

Morgan looked at him curiously.
"You aren't disappointed, are you?"

"Oh lord, no!" Sam
chuckled quietly. "It was just nice to have a real conversation with a
female." He looked at her slyly, knowing, and he said, "Plus, I think
that I have some competition when it comes to you."

Morgan cocked her head and
raised her eyebrow. "Huh?" she asked stupidly.

All it took was for Sam to mouth
the word, "Larson" for Morgan's body to react. Her heart fluttered
deep within her chest and a hot magenta blush rose up on her cheeks. She looked
away from Sam, then without realizing it, she began fidgeting with the things
on her desk.

Sam smiled knowingly, but when
Morgan saw the smile, she hissed, "I don't know what you are talking
about."

"Oh, okay," Sam said,
but he did not look convinced. In fact, he looked as though he thought Morgan a
liar, and a poor one at that.

Morgan cleared her throat and
her eyes glanced down at her list of players. All that was left to interview
today was the kicker, Mitch Cannon, and Brent Larson. Her eyes focused in on
Brent's name and Morgan felt as though she was lost in a fog. What was this man
doing to her?

Sam Smythe left shortly after,
and Mitch Cannon was the next one to be interviewed. Morgan found him funny and
charming, but she was distracted the whole time. She knew that Brent was
coming, coming up to see her, and she would have to fight hard to push away the
attraction that she felt toward him.

Mitch's interview was over in a
flash, and before Morgan knew it, she was waiting for Brent Larson to grace her
with his presence. She sat at her desk, twirling her chewed up pencil in her
hand and fighting the urge to check the little bit of makeup that she had put
on for the day. Her lips pressed together and she swallowed hard, thinking of
Brent's full, soft-looking lips.

I have
got to keep focused,
she thought to herself sternly
, Don't let him get to you. Just do the
interview and see him out. Your job is so much more important than some silly
guy.

The elevator dinged and the
doors slid open, and there stood Brent Larson, his eyes squarely focused on
Morgan and a smile playing on his lips.

Morgan stood quickly and could
not tear her eyes away from him as he walked toward her. There was something
about the way he moved, or how his khakis and blue button up shirt hung from
his tight, muscular body that kept her attention. Or maybe, it was because Morgan
knew exactly what was under all of those clothes, and she thought about it
every night before she went to bed. Morgan could picture him naked now, his
slick, hairless body, tanned and beautiful, glistening with sweat and flushed
from playing...

"Afternoon, Ms.
McMinn," Brent said with his docile tones, his smile wide and his eyes
glittering dangerously. He held out a hand to shake hers, and the idea of
touching Brent's skin again both aroused her and terrified her at the same
time.

Morgan cleared her throat and
took Brent's hand. She shook it firmly and quickly before dropping into her
chair. "Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Larson," Morgan said,
looking at everything but Brent.

The running back sat across from
Morgan and smiled as his leg crossed over the other. He was comfortable and he
clearly enjoyed watching her sweat and squirm. "The pleasure is all mine,
Ms. McMinn. I would do anything to get some alone time with you."

Morgan looked up at him and she
felt her whole body swell as his eyes stared into hers. There was a wanting
there, a desire that Morgan dare not grab hold of. Focus!

"Uh..." Morgan grabbed
for her notes which contained a list of questions. She blinked hard, desperate
to start reading them. "Where did you grow up, Mr. Larson?"

"Call me Brent," he
said, leaning forward.

"Uh... okay."

"I grew up in a little town
in Illinois. You wouldn't know the name. It boasts two stoplights, four stop
signs, a grocery store, and the home of the one star that managed to get out of
there." Brent ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair, letting a few
tendrils fall around his eyes. "But tell me, where are you from?"

Morgan had been frantically
writing while fighting her racing heart. "I'm from here," she said,
"Born and raised about 15 minutes from the stadium."

"
Ahh
,
so do you go to state college?" Brent asked.

"I graduate in December.
This internship is the last thing I needed. I start here full time once it's
up." Morgan shook her head and felt a hot irritation growing. "Hey!
I'm the one asking the questions here!"

Brent held up his hands and
smiled in defeat. "Of course, Ms. McMinn."

Morgan looked back down at her
questions. "What made you want to play football?"

Brent shrugged and glanced out
the window near Morgan's desk. "Don’t know. My dad played, and so did both
my grandpa's. It was just expected for me to play. Plus, it got me out of that
one horse town and into college. After that, I just kept going." His deep
blue eyes moved back to Morgan. "So, do you ever dream about getting out
of the town you grew up in?"

Morgan shrugged and before she
knew it, she was falling into his trap again. "I'd like to travel eventually,
but this is my home," she said. She realized that she was answering more
of his questions and she pointed her pencil at him while narrowing her eyes.
"No more questions, pal."

With a smile, Brent nodded his
head. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding not very sorry at all, "I
just want to get to know you a bit better."

A heavy flush rose up on
Morgan's cheeks and her heart fluttered once more. It took everything in her
not to throw herself across the desk and into his lap. But she took a long,
ragged breath and tried in vain to compose herself. She looked down at the next
question, and when she asked it, her voice was hoarse and tense. "What is
your home life like? Are you married?"

Brent's smile was one of
knowing. His eyes twinkled as he replied, "Single as the day is long. Not
looking, though. I have my eyes on one beautiful girl in particular, but I
don't know if she will give me the time of day."

Morgan's eyes met Brent's and he
nodded ever so slightly. She stared at Brent and her mind blanked. All of those
warnings that she had given herself were silenced. All she knew was that this
handsome guy was staring at her, hinting that he wanted her and her alone. Her
pencil dropped from her hands and the moment seemed to last for an eternity.

Brent leaned forward and he
whispered to Morgan, "Have dinner with me tonight."

Oh, she wanted to. She wanted to
leave work that very second and spend every waking moment with Brent. But there
was that little nagging bit in her head that echoed to "keep her nose
clean and out of trouble."

"I... I can't," Morgan
whispered back dejectedly.

Brent raised an eyebrow. He was
the kind of guy who did not take no for an answer. "Why not?"

Before Morgan could stop them,
the words just came tumbling out. "I had to work my ass off to get this
internship. And on top of that, Dryer has offered me a full-time position here
once the internship is over. I don't want to fuck this up. This is the chance
of a lifetime for me and I am not going to let some hotshot football player
screw it up."

"But you have to admit that
there is something between us," Brent said, still leaned into her.
"You had to feel that spark."

Morgan narrowed her eyes.
"I won't admit to anything," she said, knowing that she felt it too.

Brent grinned. "How about
this... How about we make a bet?"

"A bet?" Morgan raised
an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Brent's smile
was wide, "How about, if I make the winning touchdown during this Monday's
game, you go out on one date with me? If there's nothing there, I'll leave you
alone for the rest of your time here. And I won't tell a soul, as to keep your
job safe."

Morgan rolled the idea around in
her mind. It didn't sound like too bad of a bet. And what harm could come to
her if he promised to keep it all secret? Plus, what were the odds of Brent
making the winning touchdown at the game? Even if the Caimans won, Brent would
have to make the final one, right? Morgan thought that her odds were good, and
if it meant that Brent lost and never talked to her again, at least she would
have her career, right?

She looked back up at Brent, who
grinned at her deviously. Morgan's face softened from stern to a smile and she
said, "Mr. Larson, I'll take that bet.

Morgan quickly remembered that
she was in the middle of an interview and she glanced back down at her
questions. "One last question and we are done. What is the one thing in
life that you can never pass up?"

Brent's eyes glittered.
"Winning a bet."

Chapter Six

"Holy
chalupa
,
these seats are incredible!"

"Yeah, dad, I know!"
Morgan shouted over the roar of the football fans.

It was Monday night, time for
some football!

One of the perks of working for
the Caimans is that Morgan could get tickets to any home game that she wanted,
and the first one that she wanted to go to was against the Red Oaks, a smaller
team. And out of everyone she knew, she wanted her dad to be the first person
that she brought to a game.

So Morgan and her Dad settled
into their seats just above the Caimans bench. They could see the whole field
from there and had a great view of the players. Morgan had never been a true
football fan, but she could not help but feed off of the excitement that
permeated throughout the stands. Every fan was on his or her feet, screaming at
the top of their lungs, and Morgan and her dad joined right in.

But every time Morgan looked up
at the scoreboard, a little bit of nervousness wriggled in her stomach like a
ball of worms. The Caimans were tied with the Red Oaks, but Morgan knew that
Brent Larson would be watching the scoreboard, too. In fact, he had seen her in
the stands when the players first came out. Every now and then, when he would
be on the sidelines, he would turn and smile at her knowingly. Morgan tried to
hide it, but whenever Brent looked at her, a shock of arousal would coarse
through her veins. Her skin felt hot, her bra tightened as her breasts swelled,
and she would blush a deep crimson.

Now, the score was tied 21-21
and the Caimans had the ball. There were only 2 minutes left in the final
quarter and Morgan knew that Brent Larson would be doing everything in his
power to make sure that he scored the winning touchdown.

To her left, Morgan's father was
jumping and cheering on the team. The Caimans had been his favorite team since
before Morgan's birth 22 years ago, and this was his first live game. To her
right, a coworker was doing the same, cheering on the team that wrote the
paychecks. But Morgan stood still and stoic as her heart raced. She watched the
team set up for a play, the play that would certainly win them the game. The
running back number 93 stood on the field, crouched and ready to spring into
action. Larson turned his head slightly and looked over in Morgan's direction,
and if she didn't know any better, she would have sworn that he winked at her.

"Down! Set! Hike!"

The ball was snapped to the
quarterback and Larson sprang forward, running as fast as his thick, muscular
legs could take him. Morgan watched him run, and in her mind's eye, she saw his
long, thick, naked legs standing idle in the locker room all those weeks ago.
Morgan shook her head and the crowd seemed to fall into a hush when the
quarterback launched the football into the air.

Every eye on the stadium,
including Morgan's, watched as the ball flew high and long, and landed gently
into Larson's open, waiting arms.

The crowd burst into screams as
Larson ran as though his life depended on it. Morgan watched with baited
breath, her heartbeat seemingly sprinting in time with the rhythm of his
footsteps. All around her, the crowd cheered and tumbled over each other, but
Morgan stood still, shocked, even though she shouldn't be.

"Touchdown, Caimans!"
the announcers cried out over the din of sound.

The fans joyously tumbled over
one another in victory. The rest of the players rushed the field in victory and
Larson was lost in a sea of teammates. Morgan's eyes searched for him, but she
did not find him until he was lifted onto the shoulders of some defensive
linemen. Larson pulled off his helmet and grinned widely, holding up both the
gold and orange helmet and the brown pigskin that had won him the victory.

Morgan stood next to her father
and cheered along, though her stomach and heart could not agree on whether she
was nervous and anxious, or if she was excited. Larson dropped to the ground
and ran to the stands, hoisting himself up on the metal poles that separated
the fans from the players.

He looked right in Morgan's
eyes, even though he was being rushed by joyous fans, all desperate to touch
the man who won them the game. But his eyes, those blue eyes that one could drown
in, stared at Morgan. He shook his head, rustling his long, shaggy hair from
his eyes, and he mouthed the words, "Date? Tonight?"

Morgan could feel her father
glancing at her from her left, but she paid it no mind. She nodded ever so
slightly. Larson's face split into a grin, one of excitement and triumph, and
he howled out with the fans in celebration.

But the eyes of her father were
on her still. Morgan glanced over to see her father glaring sternly. "You
know Brent Larson?" he shouted over the roaring crowd.

Morgan did not know how to
respond. Finally, after glancing around and waiting a little too long to
answer, she leaned over and said, "He won a date with me."

Mr. McMinn's eyebrows knotted in
a look of disbelief. He shook his head, then took his daughter by the elbow and
said, "Whatever. Just get me an autograph if you think of it."

***

Morgan was waiting at her desk
on the seventh floor, watching the stars in the sky outside her window twinkle
over the bustling city. She had said goodnight to her father and headed back to
work, knowing that Brent would be waiting on her. The office was deserted and
quiet, which made Morgan feel strange. She was so used to the hustle and noise
of the seventh floor that the darkness and quiet made it seem like a different
place.

She knew he was coming for her.
She did not know when.

After a few moments of quiet
contemplation, Morgan stood from her desk and gathered her things. "I
don't have to do this," she said to herself, mumbling, "I don't have
to go on this date."

But to turn him down? Was that
really her? And she had never been one to welch on a bet before...

"But I could lose this job
over him. No man is worth that."

Morgan did not stop to think
about how Brent Larson made her feel. Not just the physical... Even though he
had a way of looking at her that made her body ache and throb for touches and
kisses. No, it was also how he made her feel pretty, feminine, and sweet. There
was just something about that man that she was drawn to...

"I can't lose this job!"

Morgan grabbed her purse and
made her way to the elevator. "I'll just leave before he gets here. And
I'll put him off for as long as I can."

Before Morgan could punch the
button to call for the elevator, the bright silver doors opened wide. Morgan
gasped as her eyes landed on the handsome Brent Larson. He stood there, freshly
washed and cleaned up after the game, wearing tight dark blue jeans and a blue
and white t-shirt. His face glistened, as it was freshly shaven, and Morgan
could smell the musky scent of cologne, which must have just been spritzed on.
It was the same cologne that made her dizzy with desire when they found
themselves alone in the elevator. Morgan's eyes wandered down and she saw that,
in Brent's hand, he held a small bouquet of white roses.

Brent Larson smiled down at
Morgan, who stood shocked with her mouth ajar. "Hello, Ms. McMinn,"
he said, his voice deep and husky.

"Uh..." Morgan
stammered. Just looking at this gorgeous, muscular man who stared down at her
with those deep, beautiful eyes made her lose track of all thought.
"Hi."

Brent's hand reached out and
held the elevator doors open. When Morgan didn't just in right away, he looked
at her with a raised eyebrow and asked, "Are you coming?"

Morgan stepped onto the elevator
and stood next to Brent. "Mr. Larson, I don't know if I--"

"These are for you,"
Brent interrupted her, pressing the beautiful blooms into her hands.

"Oh!" Morgan looked
down at the flowers, and their intoxicating scent filled the elevator.
"Thank you." Morgan took a deep whiff of the flowers as Brent pressed
the button for the Lobby.

Morgan looked over at Larson and
found him leaned against the wall behind him. His body looked amazing, with
rippling muscles throbbing under his tanned skin. But the look on his face was
what caught her attention. Brent Larson, the suave lady-killer, the star
running back, looked unsure of himself. If Morgan was to guess, did he look a
little shy?

"I, uh, wasn't sure what to
get you. But I liked them, so I went with white."

"They are amazing,"
Morgan said, watching Larson carefully. "I love roses, actually."
Morgan turned her back to Larson and pulled down the shoulder of her blouse,
revealing a small rose tattoo on her shoulder.

"No way!" Larson said,
leaning forward to get a better look.

The pair rode the rest of the
way to the lobby in silence. Morgan's fingertips ran gently over the soft white
petals of her flowers, and every time she glanced over at Brent, her heart
raced. There was something animalistic and primal about the way that she was
drawn to him. She wanted to be near him, pressed against him, and she wanted
nothing more than to give herself over to him and let him ravish her.

But it was so wrong. What of her
job? Would her boss fire her in an instant if he found that she was
fraternizing with the talent? Working for the Caimans was Morgan's dream. Was
Brent worth losing all of this?

The elevator came to a halt and
the silver doors slid open, revealing the empty and dark lobby. Morgan stepped
out with Brent close at her heels.

"You know," Brent said
after clearing his throat, "If you don't want to do this, I
understand."

"What do you mean?"
Morgan asked.

Brent sighed. "I know that
we made the bet and all, but I want you to go out with me because you want to,
not because you have to." His blue eyes met hers and Morgan lost herself.
"I really like you, Morgan. I just want you to like me, too."

Morgan looked down at the
beautiful roses in her hands. They were so soft and beautiful, just like she
imagined Brent's soul to be. When the running back's hand met her face, gently
cupping her cheek into his rough, ragged palm, Morgan looked back up. Brent was
staring at her intently, so much that Morgan forgot to breathe.

The decision was made for her
when her lips parted. "I want to go," she whispered, her words
surprising her.

Brent's smile lit up his face,
making him even more handsome than Morgan had known. He was soft with her, kind
and gentle. No longer was Brent Larson the hard player, flirting shamelessly
and without regard. Morgan fought for air as she watched his face draw closer
to hers. His dark eyelids fluttered as he came close, and Morgan could feel his
hot breath against her skin. He smelled of musk and clove and spice.

There, in the empty lobby of the
Caimans building, Brent Larson pressed his soft lips against Morgan McMinn's,
kissing her gently. It was a kiss like no other that Morgan had ever shared. It
was electric, hot like fire that spread to the tips of her fingers. Deep within
her, Brent's lips teased at some carnal wanting that made her body swell with
arousal. The first kiss turned to a second, then a third as their lips tangled
together in a dance that made Morgan's mouth water with desire.

Brent's tongue darted into her
mouth ever so gently and soon both of his hands were on her face. Morgan
dropped her beautiful white roses to the floor. The petals fell off gently,
pooling at her feet and filling the room with their sickeningly sweet aroma.
Morgan's hands went up to meet Brent's face. She caressed his skin gently,
finding him smooth and soft. Her fingertips ran through his shaggy brown hair,
and as her need grew, she began grabbing at clumps, pulling at him gently.
Moans escaped them now, muffled behind kisses and tongues that refused to part.

When the pair came up for air,
Brent's arms wrapped around Morgan's waist gently, holding her body close to
his. "Dinner or drinks?" he asked, his voice husky.

Morgan glanced outside and saw
the looming darkness overhead. "The stars look beautiful tonight,"
she remarked, her brain overtaken by the flowers and the kisses and the heat
radiating from Larson's body.

Brent looked down at Morgan and
he smiled gently. "A walk it is, then."