Places in My Heart (17 page)

Still breathing harshly, he picked up the controller, promptly marched downfield and scored a touchdown. His mouth curved in a wicked grin.

Morgan couldn't believe she'd lost the game, and by twenty-one points. She stood to remove her last piece of clothing, and he shook his head.

“Nah, baby, this honor belongs to me.”

He slowly stripped her panties away, using the fabric and his fingers to tantalize and excite her until she was wet. He positioned her on the edge of the sofa and lifted her legs onto his shoulders, kissing his way up to her left inner thigh, then the right. At the first swipe of his hot tongue on her center, Morgan's hips flew off the couch. She gripped the edge to hold on as he plunged his tongue deep inside her. She was already so aroused that it didn't take long for the orgasm to slam into her.

Omar shed the rest of his clothes, grabbed his shorts, searched the pockets and extracted condoms. He tore one off, tossed the others aside and quickly sheathed himself. Coming back to where Morgan still lay trembling, he entered her fully in one deep thrust.

She arched up and cried out. He set a driving motion, and she matched his fluid movements. He whispered erotic endearments that pushed her closer and closer to the edge until she screamed out his name. He pulled out, turned her around and surged back in. She screamed again.

“I love how your body fits mine,” he said without slowing.

She threw her hips back at him. “So do I,” she murmured. He grasped her hips and thrust harder and faster.
“Omar!”
Morgan was hit by an orgasm so strong it snatched her breath and nearly made her pass out.

Omar went rigid against her, then bucked and shuddered as he climaxed right behind her, yelling her name loud enough to be heard throughout the entire neighborhood. He collapsed over her back with a harsh groan of satisfaction. Slowly he drew them down to the floor.

She rested her head on his heaving chest and could hear his rapidly beating heart. “If this is what happens when I lose, I may be inclined to lose more often,” she said tiredly.

His low chuckle rumbled against her ear. “Yeah, I hear you.”

Silence rose between them, and Morgan could barely keep her eyes open.

“I don't think I have the energy to cook. We're going to have to order in.”

“Fine by me, but no rush. I don't think I can move right now.”

“That makes two of us.”

As they lay there, Morgan knew she would never see “Madden” the same again. She also accepted the fact that she was in love with Omar. For the time being, she decided it might be best to keep that information to herself. If he knew how she felt, he would, without a doubt, want to go public. And that was something she couldn't do...at least not yet.

Chapter 17

M
onday morning, Omar stood on the deck off his bedroom, reminiscing about his weekend with Morgan. He felt himself smile. The surprise on her face when she lost the game was priceless—although in his mind, they both had come out winners. The heated images flooded his mind and sent a jolt of desire straight to his groin. They'd had a second round after ordering and eating Chinese, and he convinced her to spend the night. Just like the previous weekend, waking up next to her seemed right, and he wouldn't have minded starting his morning with her every day. He had planned to tell her he loved her but never found the right time. He didn't want to say it during sex because he didn't want her to think it was the lust talking. But then, he'd never said those words to a woman before and realized that might be another reason he had held back.

Turning, he went back inside and left for his run. Omar started with an easy pace then picked up speed until he was at a full sprint. His thoughts went to the article he had seen in the paper about his pending lawsuit against Roland. He couldn't believe the comments Roland had made. How did he think Omar wouldn't notice, and why deny it when there was solid proof? Jaedon had called Omar and asked him to meet later this morning. He was curious about what the attorney had found out.

He changed direction and took the hill on the next block. The familiar burn started in his chest and legs, but he welcomed it. Once he returned home, he spent the next hour in his home gym, then showered.

Omar walked through the doors of Dupree and Montgomery ten minutes before his scheduled appointment time. While waiting, he took the opportunity to send Morgan a text asking if they could get together that evening or the next. He planned to tell her he loved her and convince her to go public with their relationship. He was tired of hiding and wanted to introduce her to his parents.

“Mr. Drummond, Mr. Dupree will see you now.”

He thanked the assistant, stood and followed her to Jaedon's office.

“Thanks, Yvonne,” Jaedon said as she exited. He shook Omar's hand. “Have a seat.”

“You said you have some information.”

Jaedon nodded. “I asked a friend of mine to join us. He's the private investigator I mentioned. It looks like Roland has been busy. There are at least two other players he's embezzled from.”

Omar sighed. “I saw that article. He's denying everything.”

“And insinuating you're doing it as a publicity stunt.”

His anger rose. “How long before this mess gets settled?”

“Depends on—” A soft knock sounded and the door opened.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the assistant said, “but you asked me to escort Mr. Wright in when he arrived.”

“No problem. Come on in, Zo. Omar Drummond, this is Alonzo Wright. Zo—”

“This man needs no introduction,” Alonzo said, extending his hand. “End Zone Drummond. Good to meet you, man.”

“Same here,” Omar said, rising to shake the proffered hand.

They all sat and Jaedon continued. “As I was saying, the length of time it could take depends on how long Mr. Foster tries to drag things out. I have a meeting with his attorney tomorrow, and we'll see how it goes. My hope is that the man will realize he doesn't have a leg to stand on and end this fiasco. I'm already working to get a warrant for his arrest. Zo, did you find out anything else on Omar's endorsements?”

“Nothing aside from the three we already knew about. It looks like he was trying to broker another deal.”

Omar nodded. “He'd called me about it, but it was the day I fired him, so he can't negotiate anything on my behalf. I contacted the representative from Apple to let them know my new agent would be in touch.”

“I did observe him meeting with a woman at a coffee shop a few times,” Alonzo said.

“Must be his assistant, Carolyn.”

“Assistant?” Alonzo stroked his chin. “Maybe, but the woman always seems to be nervous coming and going.”

Omar shrugged. “I can't help you. Do you know what she looks like?” Alonzo described a woman who could have been Carolyn. He'd only seen her twice and couldn't be sure.

“I plan to keep them under surveillance a little longer to see what he's up to, and I'll get a couple of pictures to send Jaedon so you can take a look.”

“Sounds good. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Looking forward to seeing you on the field this season.” Alonzo stood. “I'll be in touch, Jae.” And then he was gone.

Omar and Jaedon talked a few more minutes before the meeting ended. On the drive home, Omar thought about the conversation and what Alonzo revealed, and got angry all over again. Why would Roland be meeting with his assistant at a coffee shop instead his office? Shaking off the negative vibes, he decided to drive across town to the restaurant. He'd promised his mother he would stop by.

His mother took one look at him when he came through the door and declared, “Praise God! The prodigal son has returned.” That garnered a few chuckles and curious stares from the diners.

He walked behind the bar and hugged and kissed her. “Seriously, Mom. It's only been about three weeks.”

She eyed him. “More like a month. It's not like you live in another state.”

Omar gave her a sheepish grin. “I know.”

“And you can't use football as an excuse.”

He kissed her again. “I'm sorry. You know I love you.”

“Mmm-hmm, stop trying to butter me up.”

“What?” he asked innocently. “I do love you.”

She popped him on the arm. “Go sit down, boy. You want something to eat?”

“Just some chicken soup.”

“All right. I'll have Joanne bring it out to you.”

The lunch crowd had come and gone, so more than half of the tables sat empty. Omar slid into a booth near the back, away from the other diners. His cell buzzed. He pulled it out and read the text from Morgan.

Might be tough with my workload, but maybe we can meet for a few minutes tomorrow night. What are you doing?

At the family restaurant. Mom's been on my case since I haven't visited in a few weeks.

He glanced up at Joanne's approach.

“Hey, Omar. Here's your soup. Can I get you anything else?”

“Thanks, Joanne. May I have a glass of water?”

“Sure. Be right back.”

The phone buzzed again.

There had better not be anything resembling BBQ ribs on your plate.

Omar chuckled and replied,

Just soup, baby. I promise to hold off on the ribs until I bring you.

OK. Gotta run.

“What are you back here smiling about?” his mother asked, placing a glass of water on the table and sitting across from him.

“Just talking to a friend.”

“It's good to see you, Omar. How've you been?” his father asked, joining them.

“Hey, Dad.” He started to rise.

His father shook his head. “Don't get up.”

“I'm good,” Omar said. “Just making a few transitions.”

“And why is it that I have to read in the paper about this mess with Roland and that you have a new agent?”

“That's part of the reason I haven't been around.”

“Are you going to be able to get your money back?” his father asked.

“I hope so.”

His mother smiled. “Your father showed me the picture of your new agent. She's beautiful, but how much does she really know about football?”

Memories of that “Madden” game they'd played flashed in his head, along with the resulting sensations. “Ah, she knows a lot,” he answered, bringing the spoon to his mouth.

“I don't know how wise it is to take on someone who's new to the business at this stage of your career.”

Omar replaced the spoon in the bowl. “Dad, Morgan Gray is an attorney. She works for her family's company, Gray Home Safety. Her brother is a teammate, and he says she knows the game well.” The fact that she was the first person ever to beat him at the video game's highest level left him no doubts that she knew football.

His mother angled her head thoughtfully. “I see. And when will we get to meet this young lady?”

He shrugged. “Not sure.” That their relationship was supposed to be secret didn't lend itself to him bringing her to the restaurant, where everyone knew him and would be sure to have questions. Pictures would be all over social media within seconds of their arrival.

“I'm anxious to meet the woman who has captured my son's heart.”

Omar didn't know whose face registered more shock, his or his father's.

“You're dating your agent?” his father asked incredulously.

He released a deep sigh and nodded. “Yes, but—”

“But, what? You're either dating her or not.”

“We've agreed to keep it under wraps until the new contract is done. This is her first shot at the business, and I don't want to jeopardize that.” But he also didn't know how much longer he would be able to hold out.

His mother reached for his hand. “She sounds like a wonderful person, and I can't wait to meet her.”

“She is.” He found himself utterly captivated by every facet of her personality.

“As long as she makes you happy, sweetheart, don't worry about anything else. Let's go, Bobby, so Omar can finish his food.” They scooted out of the booth, and she placed a motherly kiss on his brow.

His father patted his shoulder. “Good luck, son. I hope it works out.”

“Thanks, Dad.” He hoped it did, too. He wasn't sure what he'd do if things fell apart.

* * *

Against her better judgment, Morgan agreed to meet Omar Tuesday downstairs at the café located on the first floor of the office building. But if they both could keep a business-like appearance, everything should be fine. John's test results on the rail had come back and Mr. Metzler indicated his report would be sent today, so she would be spending her time getting ready for the meeting with Mr. Porter later in the week. Consequently she wouldn't be available tonight, as she'd previously thought. Morgan had purposely chosen a later time to ensure they'd miss the lunch crowd. When she spotted him and their eyes connected, everything she felt rose to the surface, and she had a hard time not rushing across the room and kissing him.

“Hey.” Omar lowered himself into a chair.

“Hey. You said you needed to tell me something and it couldn't wait.” He seemed to be weighing his words before speaking, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Omar nodded. “I didn't want to do this in a public place, but I need to tell you something.”

“What is it? Did something happen?” He grasped her hands. Mindful of where they were, Morgan tried to pull back, but he tightened his hold.

“Baby, I don't want to hide anymore.”

“Omar, we talked about this,” she said in hushed tones.

“I know we did, and I was okay with it at first.”

“It's only a couple more weeks. Just a little while longer,” she pleaded.

“I can't.” He leaned forward and locked his gaze on hers. “I love you, Morgan, and I want to tell the world.”

Her pulse skipped. “Omar... I... I don't know what to say. Are you sure? I mean, we haven't been together long.”
“I love you, too,” might work
, her inner voice chimed.

Omar smiled. “I realize that, but it doesn't change what's in here.” He pointed to his heart.

Morgan closed her eyes.
Tell him!
“I...”

“I'm in this for the long haul, so I can wait until you—”

“I already do,” she whispered. He stared at her with such tenderness she thought her heart would explode. “But I'm not ready for everyone to know.”

“Morgan.”

“I need a few days to think about it, okay. Please?”

He gave her hands a gentle squeeze and released them. “Okay. When is your meeting about the lawsuit?”

“Friday.”

“Maybe we can talk it over Friday evening before training camp starts on Saturday.”

“Yes.” Their meeting with the Cobras was scheduled for the middle of next week, and she had been thinking they would casually start being seen together a week or so afterward. But his confession had completely thrown her for a loop.

“I'll see you later, sweetheart.”

Morgan nodded and watched him stride out. Blowing out a long breath, she went back up to her office.

“I left your messages on your desk,” Evelyn said as Morgan passed.

“Thank you.” She closed the door, dropped down in her chair and rubbed her temples. She couldn't be happier that he loved her, but she still worried how it would affect her goals. Her gaze strayed to the stack of messages. She rifled through them and, seeing that none were urgent, laid them aside. She picked up the pad holding her notes for Omar's contract. She had compared salaries and stats of all the league's tight ends and knew she should be able to get him somewhere near, if not at the top of, the salary cap, along with more guaranteed money. Excitement raced through her veins. If this went well, it would show other players that she could, indeed, hang with the big boys.

Morgan's computer chimed an incoming email, and she quickly clicked on the message from Mr. Metzler, happy to see the promised report attached. She read over the results. “I don't believe it,” she mumbled. She snatched up the receiver and called Brandon.

“Brandon Gray.”

“Hey, big brother. Just got Mr. Metzler's report. The findings support the ones in John's report.”

“Then, this whole ordeal will be over soon.”

“Keep your fingers crossed. Talk to you later.”

Morgan placed the papers she had been working on in their folder, tossed it on the corner of her desk and pulled the file containing the lawsuit documents. She printed the report and worked on the timeline. She frowned. Something didn't add up. Digging through the mess of paperwork, she located the delivery tracking receipt. “That can't be right, unless...” She picked up the emergency room report and smiled. “Bingo.”