In the End Zone: A Sports Romance

by Nacole Mills

  He was a bright, golden god out there on the field, running faster than Hermes must have as he darted through the sky.

  At the end of the practice, Brent pulled off his helmet and shook out his brown, shaggy hair. Morgan could see the little droplets of sweat fall from him as he did so, and they made her mouth water.

  Brent looked up in the stands and saw Morgan and Dryer sitting there, watching. His face lit up and on reflex, his hand shot up to wave to her.

  Morgan's face went rosy red as he did so. Brent caught himself, and quickly threw his hand through his sopping wet hair, trying to cover for his mistake. But Dryer had caught it, and when Morgan looked over to her boss, he was staring. The questions hung in the air between them, but they went unasked.

  The young woman just shrugged. "He's always been nice to me, ever since we did that interview."

  Dryer nodded, but he did not look totally convinced. However, Morgan's boss was quickly distracted by Coach Boss, who had climbed up on the stands to greet the pair.

  "Coach!" Dryer said, sticking out his hand in greeting.

  "Ahh, Dryer. Nice to see you." Coach Boss said, shaking hands with the marketing manager. He looked over to Morgan and smiled gently. "And it's good to see you, Ms. McMinn. I thoroughly enjoyed the piece that you did on me."

  Morgan's face grew darker crimson. "I'm glad," she replied, having trouble finding the right words.

  Coach Boss turned his attention back to Dryer. "So, did you get her to come on board?"

  "Sure did. She's going to do a segment on the last game as practice, then we roll them out starting with the next game."

  Boss looked over at Morgan. "Sounds great. Me and the team are at your disposal, as long as it doesn't interfere with the games."

  "Of course," Morgan said, "I wouldn't dare interfere with you all while you are out there."

  Coach Boss smiled. "Well, if you want to talk to anyone about the last game, I say you talk to Larson." Morgan's heart seemed to stop at the sound of her lover's name, but neither Dryer nor Coach Boss noticed. "He's my star. he kicked ass and took names in that game. Plus, he's a charmer. He will get you the right quotes."

  An excuse to talk to Brent? Sign me up! Morgan thought happily.

  ***

  She waited until the other players had all filed out for the day before heading into the locker room. Morgan wanted to catch Brent alone, and he seemed to know what was up. When Morgan walked in, she found him sitting on a bench, wearing shorts, his t-shirt folded up beside him. The sight of his naked, clean, tanned chest made her gasp, and at the sound, he looked up at her and smiled.

  "Coach said that you wanted to talk to me," he said with a grin.

  Morgan looked around. "Are we alone?" she mouthed wordlessly.

  Brent nodded, and when he did, she ran to him and sank down on the bench beside him, wrapping her arms around his naked shoulders. "I missed you so bad!" she breathed.

  "Oh, Morgan, I've thought about you all day," Brent said, pressing his face into the nook between her neck and shoulder. His kisses began raining down on her like heavy raindrops. "God, I have missed this body."

  Brent's words made Morgan's body come alive with pleasure. She hesitated to admit it, but there was a primal wanting within her that only Brent seemed to satisfy. Her body swelled with arousal at his touches. her breasts ached for him, pressing hard against her bra as if they were begging for freedom. Between her thighs, her deepest place throbbed, wetting itself with slippery juices in anticipation.

  Hands and lips took hold of every part of Morgan's body, and more than ever, she was desperate to let Brent take her. They had come close before. Their sweet, sensual kisses that had been shared by the pond at midnight had turned carnal. Morgan was filled with wanting, and she knew that Brent wanted her just as bad.

  "You know," Brent said as his hands pulled dangerously at Morgan's clothes, "We are completely alone in here. Everyone else has left for the day."

  Morgan moaned in reply. She had yet to fall into bed with Brent, even though she dreamed of it every hour of every day. It was the last thing that she thought about before bed and the first thing she thought of every morning. Fucking Brent consumed her. She knew that his need for her consumed him, too. Every time his eyes landed on her body, she could tell that his hunger was growing.

  Their mouths met again and Morgan could feel Brent's strong hands, roughened from years of playing football, moving all over her body. He was an expert at her form, knowing exactly where to touch to bring her to the brink.

  As Brent's mouth feasted on the flesh of Morgan's neck, his hands were moving to her breasts. The mounds of flesh ached behind their cloth barriers. They were desperate for touches, and try as she might hide it, Morgan's chest heaved as he drew closer. His hands were up her shirt, feeling their way across her toned stomach. He reached into her bra and grabbed at her breasts. Morgan moaned as his rough, ragged flesh ran across her hard nipples.

  "God, I cannot wait to get those tits in my mouth," Brent breathed into Morgan's ear as his hands mauled her.

  Morgan only moaned in return, her eyes rolling back in her head and her lashes fluttering. She wanted him so bad. Maybe she should just let him take her...

  Brent's head bent down as he raised up her shirt. His hands pulled her breasts from behind their lace fabric prisons, exposing her to the musky heat of the locker room. Morgan watched as Brent's eyes went to her nipples, large and hard and crimson from desire, and he looked pleased.

  He spoke no words. Instead, he bent his head down and began licking away at her hard, aroused flesh. Morgan threw back her head and groaned as Brent's thick, warm, wet tongue flittered across her. She felt her body seized up at the feeling, and if his arms had not been around her, holding her upright. If he had not been holding her up, Morgan was sure that she would have fallen over. Her body was limp, and she was trembling in his grasp from the pleasures that his mouth inflicted on her. Between her legs, she throbbed and ached for him, and every move reminded her that she was dripping wet and waiting for him.

  A loud bang behind the couple made them both stop cold. Brent looked up with narrowed eyes while Morgan rushed to fix her top back. She felt the color drain from her face as soft footsteps grew louder. Someone was coming.

  "Oh god!" Morgan whispered as she untangled herself from Brent. She hurried to stand in front of him and she grabbed for her notebook.

  Brent's angry glare did not move from the locker room door, but Morgan paid him no mind. She was more concerned with smoothing down her tangled hair, and when the door opened, she gasped and turned to the door.

  An older woman with heavily wrinkled skin walked in, pushing a mop bucket and holding onto a mop handle. "Oh, goodness!" she said when she saw Brent and Morgan, both staring at her. "I'm so sorry. I was told that everyone had left for the day."

  Morgan's eyes shot over to Brent. "If you want to give me that quote tomorrow, Mr. Larson, I understand."

  Brent looked furious, but Morgan was shocked to see that he was glaring at her now instead of the janitor. The janitor paid the pair no mind as she went about her business of mopping the floors in the shower stalls. "That's fine, Ms. McMinn," Brent said through gritted teeth, "But I would rather go ahead and get this over with."

  Morgan could feel panic rising up in her. The janitor was shooting her funny looks, and Morgan was so afraid that she would be caught with Brent and fired from her job. She could barely contain her trembling as she looked at Brent. "I will see you later, Mr. Larson."

  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. B
efore 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, Bren
t 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.