by Nacole Mills
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."
Chapter Seven
The cool night air enveloped Morgan as she walked side by side with running back Brent Larson. The city was abuzz with Brent's victory, and every bar or pub that they walked by seemed to permeate excited, joyous energy onto the street. For as well-known as Brent was to Caimans fans, it was strange that the pair was able to walk undisturbed.
At first, Morgan and Brent walked in silence. Morgan struggled to think of something to say. She did not want to relive the game, honestly. That was work, and certainly Brent had other things that he wanted to talk about. Should she talk about herself? Ask him about himself?
Brent broke the silence first. "What did you think of the game?"
Morgan smiled. "It was fun. My dad loved it."
"Oh, that was your dad?" Brent looked over with a raised eyebrow and he said in a joking tone, "I thought you had brought a date!"
Morgan laughed and elbowed Brent in the side. "No way! He is a huge Caimans fan and has been all his life. But he has never been to a game. It was a nice way to surprise him."
"That's nice. I'm just glad he wasn't your date."
Morgan smiled and watched with a bit of pleasure as the little hint of jealousy in Brent faded away. Could it be that he played faster and ran harder, thinking that he had some competition?
"So, what's your dad like?" Brent asked.
The pair walked on and Morgan told Brent all about her favorite person in the world: her dad. They walked down the city streets, then turned to walk around the moonlit park in the middle of town. The place was quieter than the city had been, with only a few other couples wandering around.
The first hour passed quickly, and Morgan soon found herself sitting on the edge of a pond, watching the twinkling stars on the still pond's reflection. Brent sat next to her, his shoulder leaned up against hers.
"College was fun for me," he said, talking about his time at State, "I played football and classes were a breeze. I majored in business, like all of my teammates. I guess I thought that business was a good fall back in case football didn't work out. What about you?”
Morgan leaned against him. "I didn't think I would do marketing," she said, "I always wanted to paint professionally."
"Really? Painting?"
Morgan grinned. “Yeah, I love abstract stuff.” She watched Larson’s face as he marveled at her. “You didn’t peg that, did you?”
“No…” Larson said slowly. His eyes shined at her. “So, why not paint?”
Morgan shrugged. “I needed a job. And I could be creative in marketing, so I went for that instead."
"I would love to see some of your paintings sometime," Brent said. Morgan's eyes met him and she found him looking sincere.
Morgan smiled sweetly. "Maybe."
A moment of silence fell between them comfortably. "So," Brent said, putting his arm around Morgan's waist, "Did you date a lot in college?"
Morgan leaned against Brent's arm. "I dated one guy," she said softly. Her heart hurt to think about it. "We were pretty serious. We talked about getting married and everything. But, he cheated on me and I broke things off."
"
That's horrible!" Brent said, "Did you love him?"
Morgan's lips pressed together, making a firm line. "I thought I did at the time, but now I am not so sure,” she answered honestly.
Brent leaned back. "I don't think I have been in love either," he said quietly, just loud enough for Morgan to hear, "I dated a lot, but nothing serious."
Morgan was afraid to ask more. Would she scare him off? She bucked up her courage and thought, Well, there’s no need to beat around the bush. "Do you think that you eventually want something serious?"
Brent was quiet, thinking. Morgan's heart flip-flopped in her chest, and she wondered if she had frightened him off. "Yeah," Larson said finally, "I think I would like to settle down eventually. I'd love to feel real love." He looked over at Morgan and grinned. "How about you? Willing to take the gamble again."
Morgan considered the idea, and it made her want to jump up and leave. She was risking so much just going out with Brent Larson, and now he wanted to know if she would try to love again?
Could she even try and love again? Morgan remembered the hurt when she found her ex-boyfriend wrapped up in his lover's arms. The pain was unreal, and she had told herself then that no man would ever do that to her again.
When Morgan didn't respond, Brent leaned over and ran his fingers down the side of her face. Morgan found his touch to be softer than she had imagined. Who knew that such hard, roughened hands could be so gentle?
"Please don't let me scare you," Brent said softly, leaning forward to press his forehead to Morgan.
Morgan looked over at Brent and she saw the stars twinkling in his eyes. "I'm not scared." Her heart fluttered away and she was not sure if her words were true or not.
Brent grinned and gently chuckled. "I don't know what it is about you, girl, but you have got me hooked. You make me say and do things that I would never do."
A question whirled around in Morgan's mind. It nagged at her gently until she finally asked, "And what about you? Do you even want to pursue something serious, or am I just another plaything?"
The grin on Brent's face faded quickly and his tanned brow furrowed. "I'm not a college kid any longer, Morgan," he said, looking offended, "I don't want to screw around anymore."
"Since when?"
"Well... since you, I guess."
Morgan stared at Brent and she found herself unable to breathe. "Me?" she said her voice barely above a whisper.
Brent looked away, his gorgeous blue eyes looking out onto the stillness of the pond. "I saw you when you and Dryer came in to watch one of our practices. I think it was your first day."
Morgan nodded, remembering that day and how she felt drawn to Brent when their eyes met. Her heart fluttered wildly as she wondered if they had both felt the connection at the same time.
"I couldn't take my eyes off of you," Brent said, continuing on. Morgan wondered how he did not hear her thundering heart because it seemed to deafen her. "It was all I could do to keep playing and not run over to talk to you. And when I played, I played better and ran faster than I ever did before. All because I wanted you to notice me.
"And later, when I saw you wandering around the locker room, I don't know what came over me. I think I wanted to make a lasting impression." Brent grew quiet, but a grin played on his lips.
Morgan's thoughts wandered to Brent's nakedness. If she closed her eyes, she could still see every inch of him glistening in the white lights of the locker room. Morgan had a picture in her mind of Larson standing there in all of his glory, grinning down at her knowingly.
"All I wanted to do was to get you to notice me," Brent said.
"Well, it worked," Morgan said with a laugh.
Morgan's eyes met Brent's, and that one look was all it took to both calm her and excite her at the same time. Neither one of them spoke, but slowly, their mouths moved closer to one another.
When Morgan's lips pressed against Brent's, the whole world around them froze. The stars stopped twinkling just to look down and watch as the lovers touched. Lips and tongues moved together in time, tumbling over one another gently. Their kisses were soft and sweet, then they turned ravenous. Brent was kissing Morgan as though she was life-giving air and he was hungry for it. His hands were tangled in her hair, then slipping down her back, lighting a trail of fire down her spine that consumed her.
Morgan's hands pressed against Brent's body, feeling his hardened muscles ripple under his skin. She found him hard and her body began aching for him. There was something primal deep within her that stirred. It was awoken, and it hungered for no one but Brent. Morgan knew that she could not fight it, and she gripped Brent's shirt, pulling him closer than before.
The lovers' mouths parted and Morgan gasped for air. She found it cool and soothing, but nothing could stem the ache deep within her. Her eyes flitted up to Brent's, and she found him staring down at her through a thick curtain of dark lashes.
"Are we doing this?" she panted.
"I am in if you are."
Morgan looked down and away, thinking hard. "I can't lose this job," she said, "This job is my dream job. I don't do anything to destroy that."
Brent smiled down at Morgan, and he spoke as he brushed a tendril of hair from her eyes. "I can keep a secret if you can."
Chapter Eight
The secret of their illicit love affair was a heavy one to carry for Morgan. She wanted nothing more than to shout from the rooftops that she was dating Brent Larson, but the fear of losing her position in the Advertising and Marketing department made her keep silent.
To Brent's credit, he was keeping just as quiet, but he seemed to always find a way to leave little hints that he was thinking of Morgan. She often found little love notes on the windshield of her car after work, always signed "B9L3". Brent made a secret social media account and he would message her often.
Morgan's heart would skip a beat when the alerts would pop up on her laptop, and she always stopped to talk to him:
93ToBe: I will be at the bar on 25th tonight at 9pm.
MorganMac: Oh really?
93ToBe: Alone and waiting.
93ToBe: I'm craving a big mac ;-)
But when Morgan and Brent would see each other out in the office building, they were kind and polite to each other. Brent would nod his head gently at her in greeting, while Morgan would chirp, "Good morning!" Any other greeting would be too obvious, and no greeting at all would look strange.
Brent slowly began finding ways to get himself up to the seventh floor. He would often pop there with the excuse of, "I just thought of a great addition to my interview!" or "Coach Boss wanted me to speak to Dryer about getting that blonde intern to do more interviews."
Morgan's heart skipped a beat every time she saw him. And more importantly, Dryer, nor anyone else, never suspected a thing.
About three weeks into their secret love affair, Dryer called Morgan into his office. "Come in and sit down," he said, shutting the one door on the seventh floor behind her.
Morgan lowered herself into the office chair. "Is everything alright, sir?"
"Ahh, don't be so worried, McMinn!" Dryer said with a wave of his hand as he sat across from her, "I come bearing good news."
"Oh?" But Dryer’s words did little to quell her nerves.
"Your little interviews are getting rave reviews on social media. The one on Sam Smythe even got featured on ESPN the other night."
Morgan’s heart jumped and she shrieked with happiness. "Are you serious?"
Dryer nodded and smiled. "You are doing a bang up job around here McMinn. You should be proud."
Morgan could not stop grinning. I've got to call dad tonight and see if he saw it, Morgan thought to herself.
"Anyway, I was thinking that we could make those social media spots a regular thing, only instead of showcasing the players, we could provide highlights from the games each week." The wheels were already turning in Dryer’s head and Morgan could almost see them moving.
"Sir, that is a fantastic idea," M
organ said. She sat forward, eagerly wanting to help. "I would love to be a part of those!"
Dryer put his fingers to his chin. "I've ran the idea by Boss and he has agreed to it. Now, we have missed a few games this season, of course, but I don't see why we can't just start up with the next game, right?"
"Well," Morgan said as the gears in her brain began turning, "We may be able to cover the game from two nights ago. We can use old footage and I can interview some players over the top of it. Maybe even get some commentary from the announcers."
Dryer leaned back in his chair and swiveled slightly. "Get me a prototype and have it on my desk in the morning. We will go from there."
"Yes, sir!" Morgan jumped from her chair. "I'll head downstairs now."
Morgan went for the door, but Dryer called her back. "They will all be at practice now. May as well wait until they are done."
"Oh..." Morgan had gotten excited at the idea of running into Brent again, but Dryer seemed to pop her glee like a balloon. Almost instantly, another idea occurred to her. "Well, do you want to go watch the practice?"
Morgan knew that Dryer would never give up the chance to see the team practice. He grinned. "I thought that you were not that 'in' to football, McMinn?"
"I think it's growing on me," Morgan smiled back
***
The Caiman's practice was a long, hard one in the cool underground practice field. Morgan and Dryer watched the last 30 minutes of it, and in all that time, Brent Larson never looked up from the field once. Dryer and Morgan both cheered on the boys, but Morgan's eyes never left Brent's form clad in his number 93 practice jersey.
Morgan had never really appreciated Larson's devastatingly handsome body until then when it was on full display for her. Brent was rocking the tight little football pants in gold and them way they clung to his body made the fire within her grow hot. Of course, he was wearing pads, but that did not stop Morgan from thinking about his naked, hairless chest, dripping with sweat. Morgan knew that his skin was so hot that steam must be made off of it.
