In the End Zone: A Sports Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Nacole Mills
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
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