“I work a job, remember?”
“Call out sick.”
“No.” I shake my head and laugh again. “You’ll be home tomorrow night.”
“I want to see you tonight. Fuck the distance, Meg, you should be here. I want you at the game tomorrow. In fact, take the whole week off. We have a bye-week next weekend, and Coach is giving us the week off. Let’s just go somewhere together for a few days.”
I sit in stunned silence. Is he serious? Just pick up and leave?
“Will, I have to ask for vacation time months in advance.”
I hear him sigh on the other end and feel like shit for raining on his parade.
“I want to see you too,” I tell him firmly. “But I can’t just leave town without any notice.”
“You need a vacation, Meg. You’re exhausted. We need time together.”
“I’m with you every day.” I remind him.
“I miss you.”
Damn, we have it bad.
“I miss you too, babe. I’ll call you tonight when I get off work.”
“Okay. Later.”
I hang up and rub my forehead. He’s right, I do need a vacation. Being whisked away at a moment’s notice sounds fantastic, but I’m not a rich superstar. I have a job, and a mortgage, and a crazy biological mother who seems to think I have to send her money on a regular basis.
I dig back into the charts in front of me and try to forget about a certain sexy football player and what he might be doing right now in sunny Florida.
“Can I come in?” My boss, Loretta, asks.
“Sure.”
She sits in the shabby chair opposite me and sets a manila envelope on the desk.
“How’s it going?” she asks.
“Fine, thanks. You?”
“Oh, fine,” she waves my question off, and looks at me for a long minute. “It’s been a rough week.”
“Most weeks are rough around here, Loretta,” I remind her. She nods thoughtfully.
“I saw that your football player was with you at the funeral the other day,” she mentions causally, a knowing smile on her kind face.
“Yes, he was,” I confirm. “He liked Nick.”
“We all liked Nick,” she sighs heavily. “Losing him was tough on all of us.”
I not in agreement and watch her, wondering where she’s going with this.
“You know, I was looking through your attendance records, and was reminded that you haven’t had a vacation in two years.”
Will Montgomery, I’m going to kick your ass. Right after I kiss you senseless.
“Okay,” I reply.
“You have almost two hundred hours of vacation time saved up in your bank, Megan.”
I nod, watching her.
Loretta shakes her head and sighs, then chuckles. “I appreciate your dedication. Trust me, I do. But Meg, this job will burn you out fast if you don’t take care of yourself. Your football player called me earlier and asked me to give you this, along with the next ten days off work.”
She slides the envelope to me and I open it, my jaw drops as I read the paper inside. It’s a flight itinerary to Miami, leaving in four hours. Behind that is an email sent from Will.
Loretta,
Thanks for taking care of this. I owe you.
Will Montgomery
I shake my head and look up at Loretta. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I don’t want to see you for ten days, girlfriend. Go have fun. Get some sun. Have some sex. Spend time with that fine specimen of man of yours.” She rises and heads for the door, but turns back to me when she reaches the doorframe.
“Oh, by the way. You’ve got the rest of the day off as well. Have a good vacation.”
I sit for a long minute and stare at the itinerary, then pull out my phone and shoot Will a text.
Do you always get your way?
After I pull out my purse and gather my things, he responds.
I need you.
Well, how do I argue with that?
* * *
It’s late when I arrive in Miami, but Will has a car waiting for me at the airport. I expect him to be asleep when I arrive at the hotel. The front desk concierge doesn’t even blink when I give him my name and whom I’m with. He just hands me the key to Will’s room and gives me directions on how to find it.
Pulling my large suitcase behind me, I head for the elevator. I probably over-packed, but what in the hell does a girl bring on a week-long vacation when she doesn’t know where she’s going and her man has more money that common sense? Jesus, we could end up in Iceland for all I know.
I use my key to let myself into his room, and about swallow my tongue. ‘Room’ is too tame of a word. It’s the size of my townhouse, with trendy décor and large windows that show off the city. All of the lights are off except for the light by the bedside. Will is propped on pillows, with a playbook in his lap, and he’s fast asleep.
I leave my bag near the bathroom, slip out of my shoes and jacket, and walk over to his side of the bed. I take the playbook off his lap, set it aside and push my fingers through his soft dark blonde hair, waking him up.
“You’re here.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into him, buries his face in my neck, and just clings to me.
“Hey, are you okay?” I wrap my arms around his shoulders, caressing him, reveling in how strong and warm and good he feels under my hands.
“I’m fine. I missed you.” He pulls back and brushes his fingers down my cheek. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for sending for me. Bossy man.” I kiss his lips gently and brush my nose over his. “You need to go to sleep.”
Instead of responding, he takes the kiss deeper. Plunging his hands in my hair, he holds my mouth to his and completely consumes me, kissing me like he hasn’t seen me in years. He nibbles the sides of my lips, kisses my dimple, and then sinks into me again, tangling his tongue with mine.
Finally, he pulls back and growls, “I need to get you naked.”
I chuckle and pull the loose dress I wore on the plane over my head and toss it on the floor.
“You’re wearing panties,” he murmurs, his eyes surprised and searching mine.
“I was on a plane, Will. Of course I wore panties.”
His thumbs brush the lace over my pubis and I close my eyes on a sigh. I do love the way he touches me.
“Black lace looks good on you.” He pushes me onto my back, kneels between my thighs, and runs that large, talented hand up and down my torso, skimming my breasts and stomach, my ribs and sides, and I arch into his touch. He peels my panties down my legs and tosses them aside, grinning down at me.
“God, I love your hands.”
“I love touching your sweet body.” He leans down and kisses my breast through the matching black lace. “So sweet.”
I pull at his t-shirt, and he helps me get it over his head, strips out of his basketball shorts and boxer briefs, and tosses them with my dress on the floor. His shoulders are smooth and warm beneath my hands, his muscles firm and bunching as he moves over me, kissing and nibbling my skin.
“Will,” I whisper. He pushes up and braces himself above me, looking down at me with hot blue eyes.
“Yeah, babe.”
God, I want to tell him. I so want to tell him how I love him. How much he means to me. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m just too scared that I’ll lose him. I close my eyes and bite my lip.
“Hey.” He rests his elbows at either side of my head and threads his long fingers in my hair. His body is flush against mine, skin on skin, his pelvis pressed to mine. He is completely surrounding me, and I’ve never felt so safe.
So cherished.
“Meg,” he whispers and kisses my lips gently. “Everything about you is so fucking addicting.” He moves his hips slightly, slipping against the wetness of my core, and pushes into me slowly, effortlessly. He rests his forehead against mine and stills. “I can never get enough of you, s
weetheart.”
He kisses me again, softly, hands moving rhythmically in my hair. He is making love to me, body and soul.
“You are amazing.” He begins to move, a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. I raise my hips to meet him, pull my knees up so he’s able to push even deeper and clutch onto his biceps and show him how deeply I care for him in the only way I can.
I clench down onto his hard, pulsating cock, and gasp when his pubic bone pushes against my piercing.
“Damn, Will.”
“Yes, baby, feel it.” He rocks against me again, and when I squeeze once more, he clenches his eyes shut. “Fuck, Meg, you’re so tight.”
His voice is raw. Suddenly, he grips onto my shoulders and pushes into me one last time, hard, and spills himself into me.
“So fucking sweet,” he growls as he rocks against me and takes me over with him.
* * *
How in the hell did I get here?
“Yes! Run, run, run, baby, run!” Tasha, the woman sitting next to me screams, jumping up and down. “That’s my man!” She turns to me and hugs me tightly, her excitement palpable.
I am sitting with a small group of family members of the team players, in a box near the fifty yard line. We have the best seats in the house. Will made sure that I was welcomed and shown the ropes when I got to the Miami Stadium this morning.
We find our seats, watching the guys regroup for the next play and Tasha, a beautiful, and sweet woman with mocha-colored skin and long dark hair, smiles over at me. “Is this your first away game?”
“Yeah, pretty obvious, huh?”
She laughs and shrugs. “We’ve all been the newbie at some point. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
“Do you come to all the away games?” I ask her and watch intently as Will throws the ball and is immediately sacked. I cringe and pray. Please, God, don’t let him get hurt.
“No, only a couple a year. Most of us choose one or two games to travel to. We’re lucky with this sport; the guys are home a lot, and away games only take them away from home for a few days.”
Nodding thoughtfully, I turn my attention back to the game. Will has the ball and is looking for somewhere to pass, but there just isn’t anywhere, so he runs. “Oh, shit. Go, Will!” I stand and scream, and then hold my fingers over my mouth as I watch him run, my stomach clenching in fear that he’ll get tackled and hurt, but he runs through the defense and another thirty yards into the end-zone.
“Yes!” I jump and scream and laugh. “Touchdown, babe!”
Will throws the ball to the ref and jogs back toward the sideline, his teammates high-five and slap his helmet in congratulations, and I just can’t stop smiling.
I’m so fucking proud of him!
Tasha smiles over at me as I sit next to her. “He’s good.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“He’s a really great guy too,” she mentions casually.
“He’s the best man I’ve ever met,” I reply immediately. And I mean it.
I feel Tasha’s gaze on me, and I meet hers straight on.
“He’s a lucky guy.”
“No,” I shake my head and watch him take his helmet off and talk with a coach. “I’m the lucky one.” Will is nodding at what the coach is saying, his hands propped on his lean hips, panting with exertion from the last play. He looks up into the stands and finds us, his eyes lock onto mine and he winks and taps his nose, just like he did that first weekend, when he told me to watch at half-time. I am so fucking lucky.
I smile widely and can’t help but sigh as he turns away to talk to some of the other guys.
“You have it bad, girl.” Tasha nudges my shoulder with hers. “And it looks like it’s mutual.”
I shrug smugly and take a sip of my diet soda. “I’m surprised how many fans travel this far.”
Tasha follows my gaze up into the crowd. There are thousands of fans in blue and green gear, cheering loudly.
“Oh yeah, the die-hards follow the team all season. And the groupies, of course.” She smirks and takes a sip of her soda.
“Groupies? Like rock star groupies?” I ask in surprise.
“Oh, honey, you haven’t had to deal with the groupies yet?”
I just frown and shake my head.
“Girls be trippin’,” she mutters and snorts. “It’s disgusting how far they’ll go to try to score with the team, pun intended.”
“Do some of the guys… um…”
“Sure, some do, most likely. Especially the rookies.” Tasha rolls her eyes. “But most of the guys are smart enough to steer clear of those women. They’re just bad news.”
“I had no idea.”
“Well, honey, they’re famous. Not to mention, hot, athletic and rich. Of course women are gonna wanna fuck them, and hopefully catch a ring on her finger.”
“Gross.”
“And dumb,” she nods in agreement. “Which our guys aren’t. Will’s never gone in for that scene, Meg.”
Surprised, I look over at her. “I didn’t think he would.”
“I’m just sayin’.” She applauds as we get another first down. “Are you guys coming out with us tonight?”
“I don’t know, I just got to town last night. I’m not sure what the plan is.”
“Well, the guys usually have to travel back with the team, but since they have the week off for the bye-week, they can do what they want. A bunch of us were gonna go to dinner and maybe if they’re not too sore, do some dancing.”
“That sounds fun.”
* * *
We won, 21 to 7.
I just can’t stop smiling. God, what a rush, to be there in that stadium, watching Will lead his team. He’s so commanding and strong.
Just the way he is with me.
We are waiting in the hotel lobby for our guys. They had to go back to the locker room to shower, deal with the press, and because they’re off for the week, have a short meeting before being turned loose.
I’m texting with Jules when I hear someone shout, “There they are!”
Unfortunately, the press followed us back to the hotel, so photographers are snapping photos of the guys as they push their way into the lobby. There are also fans standing around, hoping for autographs and photos with their favorite players.
Will comes through the doors, looking fantastically delicious in a grey button down shirt and black slacks, his hair still damp from his shower. Flashes are going off all around him, and fans are pushing their way toward him, and to my surprise, he has about four security guards flanking him, holding people back.
His bright blue eyes are searching the crowd for me. When he sees me, hanging back from the crowd, his shoulders relax and he offers me his cocky grin and shrugs. I just nod and wait as he signs some autographs and poses for a few pictures. After pleasing everyone, he stalks toward me, wraps his arms around my middle and lifts me off my feet in a huge hug.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, babe.”
“Congratulations!” I bury my face in his neck and breathe him in. “You did so great! I am so proud of you!”
“The best part was having you there.” He sets me on my feet and gently tugs the sleeve of the jersey I’m wearing.
“Nice shirt.”
“Thanks.” I smile shyly. “I bought it last week, for just such an occasion.”
Will grins and leans down to murmur, “I especially love that you’re wearing my name on your back.”
“Hey, Montgomery, who’s your lady?”
We pull apart and glance over at the photographer taking our photo. I cringe up at Will and try to slink away, but he holds me tightly against his side and smiles confidently down at me.
“This is my girlfriend, Megan.”
“What’s your last name, sugar?” the photographer asks, but I shake my head.
“Just Megan.”
“Thanks, man.” The guy nods at Will and heads off to snap more photos of the other players.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur up to Will. He
frowns down at me, and cups my face in his hand.
“For what?”
“For you being cornered into calling me your girlfriend.”
“You are my girlfriend, Meg.” He laughs down at me and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“But last week, you said,,,”
“Stop.” Now he’s holding my face in both of his hands, and I grip his wrists in mine. It’s as if we’re the only two people in the room. Will’s eyes are sober as he stares intently at me. “I made a stupid judgment call last week. I don’t care who knows that you’re mine. In fact, I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“But…”
He leans down and kisses me softly, stopping the words, and then whispers against my ear so only I can hear, “You are mine, sweetheart. Get used to it.”
“Ditto,” I whisper back. I feel him smile against my cheek before he kisses my dimple and pulls away, takes my hand, and pulls me toward the elevator.
“I’m hungry. Let’s order room service.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Tiny donuts!” I exclaim as we pass Café Du Monde, a famous place for beignets and coffee. In fact, that’s all they serve.
Will and I are exploring New Orleans. This is where he decided he wanted to bring me for our short vacation. For the past two days, we’ve been exploring the city; the rich history of music and food and culture.
It’s freaking awesome.
“Hell, yes, let’s get some.” Will leads me inside, his hand linked with mine. “Coffee too?” He looks back at me with a smile on his lips.
“Yes, please.” I nod and wait while he orders. “Three orders?” I ask dryly.
“They’re really good,” he answers simply and leads me to a table outside in the shade. Even in the fall, it’s hot here. And humid. But I don’t care.
“So,” I sit across from him at a tiny bistro table and perch my sunglasses on top of my head. “What do you want to do today?”
“I thought we could just wander around, shop, listen to the street musicians.” He shrugs as the waitress sets three baskets of square, fried dough with powdered sugar liberally dumped on the top on the table, along with our chickaree coffee. “I just want to hang out with you, everything else is gravy.”