In the End Zone: A Sports Romance (5 page)

Brent stood and pulled on a shirt. He grabbed his bag and took
Morgan by the elbow. "I'll walk you out, Ms. McMinn."

The pair hurried out of the locker room and moved wordlessly
toward the elevators and Morgan could not wait to get out of earshot of the
janitor. Morgan and Brent stopped in front of the closed elevator and waited in
silence for the doors to open.

Morgan leaned over and whispered, "Brent, I--"

Brent grunted quietly, hushing Morgan's words. Before long, the
silver elevator doors opened wide and the pair slipped in. They waited for the
doors to close in front of them before Morgan sighed and leaned against the
wall behind her. "Oh god, that was close," she said as she pressed
her hand to her forehead. Morgan looked over at Brent, but she found him
looking angry and agitated, rather than feeling the relief that she did.
"Brent?" she asked.

"What?" he snapped.

"What's wrong?"

Brent's blue eyes flashed at Morgan. "I'm just tired of
sneaking around. I'm not a child that needs to keep secrets from an angry
parent."

"I'm sorry, Brent! I just... I just can't lose
this..."

But Brent had turned away. He was angry and acting childish and
his reaction to the whole thing made Morgan guarded and angry. "What do
you want from me, Brent? Do you want me to put my whole career in jeopardy
because some cute guy wants to fool around a bit?"

The elevator doors opened up to the empty lobby, but neither Morgan
or Brent got out. They stared at each other, both getting angrier by the
second. "Is that what you think this is?” Brent asked, his voice rising.

"What else would it be?" The elevator doors closed
again as Morgan's fists landed on her hips. "What am I supposed to think
when I am fooling around with a hot pro football player who's never been in a
serious relationship?"

"Is that what you think this is?" Brent asked. Morgan
had never seen him so angry, even on the field. "If that's what you think,
then why are you still here? Why are we doing any of this?"

The elevator door opened once more and Morgan's anger was
fading. She knew how she felt about Brent, how her heart raced when she saw him
or how he invaded her thoughts at the most intimate times when she was alone.
But did Brent feel that way about her? Did he share that, or was he just
fooling around with her?

Brent had no answer for her. he just stood there in front of
her, looking torn. Morgan stuck out her hand and held the elevator doors open.
"If this isn't going to go anywhere past fooling around, then I want
out," Morgan said. Her face was hot with anger and she could feel herself
shaking. "It's up for you to decide. Do we want to actually do this thing,
or do you just want a piece of tail? Cause I am not that kind of girl."

And with that, Morgan turned her back on Brent and stomped out
of the elevator. She left Brent Larson, the star running back of the Caimans,
alone in an elevator with only his thoughts.

Chapter Nine

Morgan sat in the press box and
she laid her forehead against the cool glass of a window. Outside, the fans
were cheering and screaming for the Caimans, who had a 14-point lead over the
team that they were crushing, but inside the press box, which felt like an air
conditioned cocoon, Morgan felt isolated and bored.

This was the first game that she
was considered "press". Dryer had hooked her up with all of the
passes that she needed and she was initially excited that she could go anywhere
and do anything. But she soon found that boring. There was something electric
about sitting with the fans and feeling the cheers rattle through your very
core. But here? The other members of the press sipped coffees, talked lightly
to each other, and only noted the highlights of the game that would make a
decent story.

Morgan was bored. And that
boredom made her mind wander to places where it shouldn't.

Her mind settled in on Brent
Larson, and all she could see was him standing silently in that elevator,
surrounded by shining silver and wearing his workout shorts and shirt. She
remembered his face when she gave him the ultimatum: he was torn, as though he
wanted to speak but thought it best not to. He was angry with her, but he also
looked at her with a sort of sadness that Morgan could not understand.

What bothered Morgan the most
was that she had not heard from Brent since that evening. There had been no
love note on her car or mystery flowers at her apartment door. No word from him
at all. And while Morgan tried to keep herself busy with work, she could not
stop herself from glancing up from her desk every time the elevator to see if
it was Larson stopping in.

But somehow, he had remained
elusive to her. She had not seen Brent since that night. And since then, she
had remained angry, confused, and aroused.

Today, her eyes remained glued
to the back of the number 93 jersey. She could not stop watching him, and his
back remained to the crowd. Was he thinking of her? Did she imagine it when he
stole glances up at the stands, possibly looking for her?

Morgan let out a sigh and took a
sip of her water. Boring game, boring atmosphere, and nothing else to occupy
her mind but how amazing Brent's ass looked in his uniform.
Oh, my god, that ass is on fire,
Morgan
thought to herself,
I'd love to just take
a bite of it.

Her thoughts and feelings
swirled together, and when Brent made another touchdown, making the team's lead
a solid one, Morgan looked down at her notes. Brent Larson had made every
single touchdown that game, and she was set to do interviews as soon as the
game was over. There was no way she could avoid talking to him.

Morgan gathered up her things
along with the rest of the press and she made her way down to the field. She
had her camera with her, as well as a microphone. Her press badge was looped
around her neck and she was ready to take on the interview that she was
dreading.

The gaggle of press reached the
field just in time for the last few seconds to count down on the clock. The
Caimans had won again, and every cheered as the players rushed the field in
celebration. Morgan hoisted her big black camera onto her shoulder and began
recording, catching all of the smiling faces of the players. She held out her
mic and caught all of the joyous noise.

Morgan got quotes from Coach
Boss and Sam the quarterback, then she reluctantly made her way to Larson, who
had his back to her.

"Larson! Brent
Larson!" Morgan screamed out over the roar of celebration.

Brent turned around and the
joyous smile that had been on his face frozen. Their eyes met, and Morgan's
heart fluttered madly in her chest. Her voice broke and cracked as she said,
"Larson, how did you feel when you made that game-winning touchdown?"

Brent stared into Morgan's eyes
and said, "It was as good as a first kiss, the kind that shocks you all
the way down to your feet and makes your hair curl."

A warm heat rose up inside of
Morgan. She could almost feel that electricity that Brent was describing. She
wiggled the camera a bit, almost as if she was reminding him that it was there.
"Got anything to say to the fans?"

A little wrinkle appeared on
Brent's forehead as he thought. His hand ran through his sweat-soaked, shaggy
brown hair and he said, "I want to thank them for being patient with me
after all this time. I know it isn't easy to trust someone with
your
hear—I mean, team... and I hope that my fans will see
that I am as committed to the team as I can be." Brent's eyes were serious
and Morgan found herself unable to look away. "I want to be your running
back for as long as you will let me. It isn't just about the score, it’s about
the team, and I love this team with every fiber of my being."

Morgan stared at Brent, unable
to believe what she was hearing. He wasn't saying anything plainly, of course,
but the look in his eyes and the way his body moved a little closer to hers
told her the truth: Brent's message was for her and her alone. Morgan
practically dropped her mic and camera and had to fight every urge in her to
jump into his arms and kiss him right then and there on the crowded field.

Instead, she stood still and
quiet until Larson leaned forward. "Is that good?" he asked, his
voice only audible for her.

Morgan nodded and swallowed
hard. "I think I've got it." She looked all around, then leaned
forward and whispered, "Come to my place tonight."

Brent cocked his head slightly
but said nothing. He gave a slight nod of his head, then turned to join the
others. Morgan watched him run off, his tight, hard body looking beautiful as
he ran. Her heart raced... What was she thinking, inviting him back to her
place? Morgan had only ever been with one guy before Brent, and that was her ex
from college that cheated on her. She had never been one who was brazen enough
just to bring dudes back to her place...

But then again, Brent Larson
seemed to have a way of bringing out a side of her that Morgan had never seen
before.

Morgan walked off the field,
lowering the camera to her side. She heard that familiar voice calling out over
the din. "Hey, McMinn!"

She turned and saw Larson
standing there, holding his helmet to his side. His trademark grin was back,
the one full of cockiness and ego that sat sideways on his tanned, chiseled
face. "I loved that interview! I loved everything about it!"

It took Morgan a moment to
completely understand what Brent was saying. She nodded and gave him a small
smile back. Her words were soft, but Larson read her lips easily. "I loved
it, too."

Chapter Ten

Morgan's apartment was dimly lit
by candlelight as she waited for that knock on her front door. She had rushed
home right after the interview, pausing only to drop off the camera and mic at
her office and download the interviews that she had captured. She wanted to
watch Brent again, but she knew his answers by heart already.

"I want to be your running
back for as long as you will let me."

"I am committed to the
team."

"I love the team."

She could read everything that
Brent was trying to say to her, and each answer made her heart flutter. He
wants to be with her, committed to her, and he may even love her.

So Morgan arrived home and
jumped right in the shower. Then she primped and dressed in a sleek black dress
with a matching black bra and panty set and strapped on her black heels. She
donned a silver locket around her neck and a simple silver chain on one wrist.
She curled her blonde hair and painted the faintest of makeup on her already
beautiful face.

She was ready and waiting for
him, and after a while, a soft knock came at the door. The sound made Morgan's
heart leap into her throat, and no matter how hard she swallowed, it would not
go back down.

Morgan moved slowly toward the
door, and when she peeked through her peephole, all she saw was a bouquet of
white roses. Just looking at them made her remember their intoxicating aroma.
She flung open the door, and there, standing before her, was the untamed
running back, Brent Larson.

His eyes shone down on her like
bright blue beacons as she took in his form. Brent was dressed in black pants
and an ocean blue button-up shirt that was the exact same shade as his eyes.
Draped over his arm was a black suit coat to match, but his hands were mostly
filled with the roses. There were so many roses that Morgan could not even
begin to count them all.

Morgan struggled to speak.
"Hey," she managed weakly in a breathy voice.

"Hey." Brent's face
broke out in a grin and his teeth, his beautiful teeth that Morgan had never
truly appreciated before, dazzled her. "These are for you," Brent
said, passing the roses to Morgan.

"They are beautiful. Thank
you," Morgan said breathlessly as she took the aromatic bouquet. She
turned and headed to her kitchen. "Come on in. I'm just going to get these
in some water."

Brent followed Morgan, leaving
his coat on the coat rack by the door, and he leaned against the doorway as
Morgan found a vase and filled it with water. She slid the stems in and turned
to Brent. "I thought you might like them," Brent said, his smile coy.

"They are incredible,"
Morgan replied as she leaned against her kitchen counter.

The pair stood in silence for a
moment, just taking each other in. Morgan could feel the tension between them,
but she could not stop herself from staring at Brent's physique. In the little
bit of time that they had spent apart, she seemed to have forgotten how his
body was trim and cut, lean and long with bulky muscles and legs like tree
trunks. She salivated as she stared at him, and she could feel her arousal
building.

Brent looked away first, running
his fingers through his hair, giving it a "messed up on purpose"
look. "I don't know if you got it earlier," he began, "But what
I meant by the answers to those questions was--"

"I know what you
meant." Morgan's words came out soft and quiet, and she was amazed that
they held the power to stop Brent in his tracks.

"Then you... you know that
I... I, uh..."

Morgan waited. She wanted to
hear him say it. She wanted the real words to leave his mouth, not the coded
words that he had spoken earlier.

Brent moved to Morgan and his
hands gently encircled her waist. "Morgan," he said, his voice
purring and deep, "I think I am falling in love with you."

The words sent shivers down
Morgan's spine. "Oh, Brent," she said, her palm reaching up to stroke
his soft, clean-shaven face.

"No," Brent said as he
looked up at her face, "I know I am falling in love with you. I love
you." He pulled her close, wrapping his strong arms around her. "I've
never loved anyone before. I've never cared about anyone as much as I care for
you. It's not even close." He pressed his forehead to Morgan's. "You
are all I think about. I go to sleep thinking of you, hoping that I will dream
all night of you. I wake up thirsty for your kisses. My whole body aches to be
with you."

Morgan pressed her hands against
Brent's chest and she felt his muscles rippling under his skin. Her nails ran
along the fabric of his shirt, and she felt him shudder under the touch.
Looking up, Morgan met Brent's eyes. "I love you, too. I didn't quite
realize it until we were apart. And now I never want to be apart from you
again."

She tilted her head up, and the
lovers' mouths met with a fierce passion. They kissed each other frantically.
Lips and tongues moved together in time. Morgan moaned against Brent's mouth as
he sucked on her lower lip, and she gasped when his tongue darted past her
teeth, begging hers to come out and play.

His hands were on her, gripping
her and pulling her tight against him. She feared that if he held her any
closer, their bodies would just meld together and they would become one. The
only thing that separated them now was little scraps of black and blue fabric.

Morgan broke away from Brent's
kiss. "I love you, Brent Larson," she whispered in between ragged
breaths.

"I love you, Morgan
McMinn."

Morgan took Brent's hand and
pulled him from the kitchen. They walked past the little dining room and living
room, and Morgan's destination was to take Brent to her bed. She had never
wanted a man like she wanted him, and this bad boy was about to be all hers.

The pair entered the bedroom,
which was lit with a dozen candles, and Morgan had barely shut the door when
Brent's hands and lips were on her again. He devoured her mouth, savoring all
of her flavors as his hands worked her over. He was grabbing at her curves,
cupping her ass, and pulling down the zipper in her simple black dress. All the
while, Morgan's fingers fumbled with the buttons on Brent's blue shirt.

"Oh god, I want you so bad,
Morgan," Brent moaned as his mouth moved to her naked, exposed neck. He
sucked at her there, licking away at her skin as he held her hips close to him.
Morgan could feel his hard, throbbing cock pressed into her belly, and the size
of his girth both frightened and aroused her.

Morgan began to squirm slightly.
She could feel her wetness gathering between her legs, as it often did when
Brent was near her, or kissing her, or touching her. His fingers were fumbling
with her zipper, and he was struggling big time.

"Oh, fuck this dress,"
he grunted.

Suddenly, Brent's fists were
grabbing at the black cloth that clothed her. With all of his strength, he
ripped at the zipper, and Morgan cried out at the beautiful, simple black dress
was ripped right off of her from the back. Brent pulled it away from her body,
tossing the cloth out of sight across the room.

Morgan was reeling as she stood
in front of Brent, wearing nothing but her black lace bra, panties, and black
heels. Brent's eyes were on her, and she saw him filling with lust. He wanted
her, and he would take her.

"Oh, beautiful,” he groaned
as he took her in his arms again. They were kissing and Brent's huge hands were
holding her against his body. She was limp against him. She couldn't fight
against him if she wanted to. But she didn't.

Brent grabbed at her ass,
holding handfuls of it as he devoured her neck and shoulder. Morgan tried
desperately to unbutton his shirt, but she failed at every turn. It didn't help
that Brent's expert mouth was giving her pleasures like she had never known. He
was working his way down her body now, kissing her chest as he worked toward
her swollen and aching breasts.

Morgan cried out as Brent
grabbed her ass and lifted her from the ground, only to toss her onto her bed.
She bounced when she landed, and when she looked up at him, his whole body
towered over her in a way that turned her on even more. He grinned as he began
shedding his own clothing. The blue shirt was taken off first, followed by the
undershirt, and then his pants and boxers followed.

Morgan could not tear her eyes
away as Brent's huge, throbbing, hard cock bounced into the light. She had
often imagined it before, but her mind had not given it justice. Looking at the
throbbing meat, magenta in color and covered in thick veins, made her mouth
water. Every bit of her watered for it. And even though she wanted it, it
frightened her. Her ex-boyfriend had not been half as big or as thick, and she
wondered if she would even be able to take this beast of a cock.

Brent grinned and said, "I
see you staring."

A hot flush rose up on Morgan's
face. "Sorry," she murmured, a reflex that she hated.

"No, no, my darling
girl," Brent said as he crawled onto the bed next to her, "This cock
is all yours. You are allowed to enjoy it any way you want."