Places in My Heart (11 page)

“This is
fabulous
,” Morgan said, walking fully into the spacious living room, staring at the highly polished dark wood, floor-to-ceiling windows, stone fireplace and black leather furniture. The open design flowed seamlessly into the kitchen. “How long have you had it?”

“Only two years. I rented a cabin for a week's stay and loved it up here, so I started looking until I found this place. The owners had put it up for sale that week, and luckily I was able to top the other offers. I still paid below market value, which makes it even sweeter.”

“How is it that there isn't a speck of dust anywhere?”

“There's a local woman who does housekeeping. She usually does a thorough cleaning and washes and changes the sheets when I let her know I'm coming.”

“Very nice.”

It took one more trip outside to bring in the groceries and store them. The kitchen boasted more wood, granite counters and stainless steel appliances, and it accessed a wraparound deck through French doors. She wouldn't have minded owning a similar spot to get away sometimes.

“Ready for the tour?”

“Yes.” He showed her a large bedroom with an en suite bathroom and two smaller ones with a bathroom accessible from the hallway. Another room behind the kitchen had been set up as an entertainment room with a large TV mounted on the wall, a sophisticated stereo system and chocolate-brown leather furniture. Afterward she followed him upstairs. One half was open to downstairs and the other housed the master bedroom. “Now
this
is a master suite!” Morgan said when he opened the double doors.

Omar smiled. “I like it.”

On one side of the room sat a huge bed—it had to be custom-made for his height—a walk-in closet, another wall-mounted TV and a leather bench at the foot of the bed. The other side held a pair of armchairs, a chaise lounge and another stone fireplace. She walked over to the sliding glass door. “This has to be an incredible sight at sunset,” she said, staring out over the mountains and a nearby lake.

Omar fit himself behind her and slid his arms around her waist. “We can sit out and watch it if you want.”

“I do.” His hands roamed down to her hips, and Morgan sensed the temperature rising.

“You know, I'm supposed to get at least two kisses a day while we're here. It's after seven and I haven't gotten one.” He turned her in his arms and whispered against her lips, “I need to play catch-up.”

As soon as their mouths connected, she moaned. His skilled tongue stroked hers with an expertise that made every nerve in her body tingle. She ran her hands over the hard wall of his chest and wound her arms around his neck to hold him in place. Where in the world had he learned to kiss this way?

At length, he lifted his head. “There is just something about the taste of your lips. I can't get enough of kissing you.” He traced his thumb across her lips, smiled and led her to the master bathroom.

The bathroom was something out of this world—a fireplace had been built into the wall behind an oversize Jacuzzi tub with steps of stone. A large window provided another spectacular view of the mountains and lake. Candles sat unlit in recesses carved into the wall and along the tub's ledge. “I need to find me a place like this. But I don't know about this window,” Morgan said.

Omar laughed softly. “It's one-way. No one can see in.”

“That's a relief.” A vision of the two of them in the tub with the candles lit, watching the sunset, floated through her mind, and she let out an involuntary gasp.

“Morgan?”

She spun around to find him viewing her with puzzlement. She smiled brightly, hoping to distract him. No way would she tell him what she'd been thinking. “Ready for that butt-whipping?”

“The question is, are
you
ready?” he drawled.

“Let's go, Drummond.” Grinning, she followed him back downstairs to the entertainment room. Morgan sincerely hoped she could keep her mind off him naked in that tub long enough to win the game.

Chapter 11

O
mar turned on the television and set up the game. “Any particular team you want?”

“Doesn't matter...you pick... I'm still going to beat you. I'll let you have the Cobras since you play for them.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “You sure are talking a lot of smack for someone who has never played one down in professional football.”

Morgan shrugged and gestured to the game. “Quit stalling.”

“Yes, ma'am. I figure we'll start with the pro level.”

“Why? You scared to go all-Madden?”

His eyes widened. That was the top level where a player could control every aspect of the game. Was she
that
good? “Not at all. Whatever you want.” He shrugged. “I was just trying to help you out.”

She smiled. “I'm not the one who's going to need help. How about five minutes a quarter? That way you won't have to suffer too long.”

Omar felt his competitive nature rise. He had planned to go easy on her but changed his mind. “Ladies first.”

By halftime, he realized Morgan did, indeed, know how to play. He'd never lost one game in all the years he had played but was down by a touchdown.

At the end of the third quarter, Morgan said, “Your boys aren't doing too well, Drummond. You might need to sub some folks.”

Omar frowned. “You just worry about your own team.” With one minute left in the game, he'd gotten his team down to the ten-yard line. He only needed a field goal to tie, but he wanted to win. His receiver was wide-open in the end zone with the ball nearly in his hands, when out of nowhere a defender streaked across and intercepted the ball. He sat stunned as his team lost. Morgan jumped up and pumped her fists in the air.

“I am the
queen
! Say my name!”

He just stared.

She dropped back down on the sofa and sighed dramatically. “I hope you remember how I like my steak. Oh, and I'd like breakfast in bed served promptly at nine.”

Her light brown eyes sparkled with laughter and as mad as he was, Omar couldn't help but smile. “You do know I'm going to want a rematch.”

“Anytime, anywhere.”

He shook his head. “I can't believe it.”

Morgan laughed. “Aw, don't be mad. You aren't the first man I've beaten. I used to win obscene amounts of money from Malcolm's friends who figured a girl couldn't possibly know anything about football.”

“You're a ringer, huh?”

“Nah. I still lose to Malcolm every now and again.”

“So I have Malcolm to thank for this.” He tossed the controller aside and lifted her to straddle his lap. “I'll concede to you this round, but the next one will be mine, sweet baby girl,” Omar said, nuzzling her neck.

“Hmm, I'm looking forward to the challenge,” she murmured.

He released the band on her hair and threaded his hands through it. “I love your hair.”

Morgan reached up and fingered his locs. “I love yours, too.”

He nibbled on her lush lips and teased the corners until they parted. He captured her mouth with hungry urgency. Her tongue danced and curled around his, forcing a low groan from his throat. Omar angled his head, deepened the kiss and fed himself on the sweetness of her mouth. He left her lips momentarily to trail kisses along the curve of her jaw and column of her neck. The soft fragrance she wore filtered through his senses and heightened his arousal. He kissed his way back to her mouth.

When the kiss ended, she slumped against him and laid her head on his shoulder. Both were breathing harshly, and he closed his eyes and waited for his galloping heart to slow. While he acknowledged being attracted to Morgan, the intense emotions filling him were startling and unexpected, and he needed to cool it for a minute. The lengthening shadows let him know the sun had started to go down.

“Still want to see the sunset?” he asked.

Morgan lifted her head and nodded.

Omar tucked her hair behind her ear, stood with her in his arms and carried her to the kitchen. He kissed her softly and placed her on her feet. “You might want to bring your jacket. It's gets pretty cool at night.”

“Okay. I'll meet you on the deck.”

His gaze followed her until she disappeared around the corner. He had placed her things in the larger downstairs bedroom, not wanting to assume anything. Omar jogged upstairs, grabbed a sweatshirt and made it back as Morgan entered the kitchen. They stepped out onto the deck, and a cool breeze greeted them.

She walked over and braced her hands on the railing. “It's so beautiful and peaceful here. I would love to have a place like this.”

“Anytime you want to come up, just let me know.” He wrapped her in his embrace, she placed her head on his chest and together they watched the sun dip below the horizon. He'd always enjoyed seeing the fiery colors in the sky dance across the water and slip behind the mountains, but having her here to experience it with him was a bonus. Holding her gave him a sense of peace, and he felt the places in his heart he'd closed off start to open.

Omar eased back and tilted her chin up. “You are so beautiful, smart and a hell of a ‘Madden' player.” He lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers. “I guess I'd better get dinner started.”

“And I am hungry,” Morgan said.

Inside he directed her to a bar stool and went about the task of preparing dinner. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please.”

He retrieved the wine they'd bought earlier, which had been chilling in the wine bucket, and poured two glasses.

“Thanks. I talked to team management. They're offering a little more than your last contract, but I think we can get more.”

“You think so?”

“I do. I heard some speculation that Colin won't be back at the start of the season. That might give us some leverage if it's true.”

“It's true. I talked to him when I was at practice on Monday. He's thinking he won't be back until midseason.” Omar decided not to share Colin's comments about Morgan being his agent.

“Wow. That just leaves Marcus because, honestly, the second-string receiver isn't that good.”

He chuckled. “That's cold.”

“What?” Morgan asked with a straight face. “I'm not dissing the man, just going by his numbers for the four games he started in last season.”

After what he and Marcus had witnessed at practice, her assessment wasn't too far off the mark. They kept up a steady conversation about football as he cooked.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Omar turned from chopping tomatoes for the salad, wiped his hands on a towel and came over to the bar. “What do you want to know?”

“Why did you go from wide receiver to tight end, especially with the differences in the pay scale?”

He smiled. “Did you learn that information after you became my agent or before?”

She hesitated briefly before saying, “Before.”

The fact that she had been following his career made his smile widen. He wondered what she would think if she knew he'd been following
her
from the first time he'd met her at Malcolm's house two years ago. “I started out as receiver in high school and college but moved over to tight end senior year. I had hoped to go back to the receiver position, but my agent at the time was obviously just out for his cut and screwed me over. The Cobras offered to sign me at the tight end position, and I took it because I wanted to stay close to home.” With his brother away in the military, Omar had wanted to be around to help Serena with the kids, especially RJ. The youngster had gone through a rebellious stage, and Omar made sure RJ stayed on the right track. He returned to the salads.

“Would you want to go back to the receiver position?”

“Definitely...unless it meant leaving home.”

“I understand.”

“Why?”

Morgan took a sip of her wine. “I got a call from another team.”

He went still. “What did you tell them?”

“Nothing. I said thank you and I'd get back to them. But since you just said you want to stay in LA, I'll make sure you do.”

He brought their plates to the table and went back for the bottle of wine. “Let's eat.”

She hopped down from the stool and he held a chair out for her. “Thanks. It looks and smells great.”

Omar topped off their wine and sat opposite her. He lifted his glass. “To the start of something beautiful.” She gave him a shy smile and touched her glass to his. Their eyes held as they sipped. He took a moment to offer a silent blessing, and when he glanced up, he noticed she was doing the same. He waited for her to take a few bites. He had made grilled rib-eye steaks, lobster medallions, roasted herbed potatoes and a green salad. “Well?”

“I am
so
glad I won.” Morgan forked up a piece of the lobster and moaned.

The soft sound coupled with the look of pure pleasure on her face sent a sharp jolt to his groin. He wasn't going to make it through the night without having her in his bed.

* * *

Morgan barely made it through dinner. Every time she looked up from her plate, she found Omar watching her. And now that they had finished, he'd been staring at her for a good two minutes as he sipped his wine, but he didn't say one word. “What are you thinking?”

Omar slowly set his glass on the table. “Truthfully?”

She nodded.

“I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to keep my word about letting you set the pace this weekend.”

“And if I want the pace to be the same as yours?”

“Then we're going to
savor
every moment.”

Her pulse skipped. The last time he'd used that word was at the fund-raiser. The thought of him savoring her like his favorite dessert had been on her mind since that night. This would probably be the only weekend they'd have for a while, and she wanted to make each second count.

He pushed away from the table. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you. Everything was delicious.” She stood and picked up her plate and glass.

“I'll clean the kitchen. Then we can relax.”

Holding his gaze, Morgan said, “If I help, we can relax sooner.”

Omar leaned over and kissed her. “You won't get any arguments from me.”

They returned the kitchen to its former state in twenty minutes, and he led her back to the entertainment room.

“When we were at the fund-raiser, I couldn't dance with you.” He picked up a remote and turned on the television, then pulled out his phone and connected it. Maxwell's smooth voice filled the room, and Omar held out his arms. “Dance with me.”

He gathered Morgan in his embrace and moved to the sultry tune. They danced to song after song, each one more sensuous than the previous one. His strong hands moved up and down her back and over her hips, arousing her with each caress. He had made a playlist guaranteed to tease and seduce. By the time Jazmin Sullivan's “Let It Burn” played, her body was on fire, and she wanted to let it burn. All. Night. Long. “Omar,” she whispered.

With a low growl, Omar crushed his mouth against hers.

The scorching kiss was so devastatingly erotic it weakened her knees. When she collapsed against him, he swept her into his arms and strode out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom.

In his room, he set her on her feet and took a moment to turn on a lamp and pull the covers back on the bed. Omar came back to where Morgan stood, framed her face with his hands and kissed her tenderly. “Are you sure you're ready for this, baby? I don't want you to have any regrets, so I can wa—”

Morgan silenced him with a kiss. “You talk too much, Drummond.” She reached down, pulled his shirt up and helped him remove it. “Does this answer your question?”

He answered by picking her up once again, carrying her over to the bed and stretching his tall body over hers. He peppered her face with kisses, then slid down her body, pushed her top up and kissed his way toward her breasts, taking the top with him. He came to his knees. “Sit up a minute.”

She complied and he removed her top. He bent and kissed and licked his way across the portion of her breasts visible above the bra. With a flick of his wrist, he undid the clasp and dragged the straps down her arms and off. He cupped a breast in each hand, gently squeezed and massaged them, then pushed them together and circled his thumbs over her nipples. He replaced his thumbs with his tongue and kept up the exquisite torture. She cried out when he took the sensitive peaks between his teeth, and arched forward.

Omar moved back to her mouth and kissed her until she lay flat. Starting at the base of her throat, down to the valley between her breasts, he charted a path with his tongue down the front of her body, pausing to plant fleeting kisses over her belly. “This is so sexy,” he said of her belly ring.

Morgan's breathing increased and she closed her eyes. Every place he touched sent sparks of pleasure coursing through her body. His hair grazed her skin, heightening the sensations. He undid her shorts and removed them and her panties, then skated his hands and tongue from her ankle to her inner thigh. She squirmed and trembled, and she called his name. No man had ever made her feel this way—treasured her like a piece of priceless art. She needed him inside her.

“Omar.” Morgan reached down and tried to remove his shorts, but he shifted out of her reach. She let out a frustrated moan.

Omar chuckled. “Relax, sweetheart. We have all night. I told you, I like to savor my dessert. And
you
are a dessert of the most decadent kind.”

He resumed his conquering, and a shiver passed through her. It had been a while since her last sexual encounter, and she was already running wet and on the verge of climaxing. When he parted her slick folds and slid in a finger, an orgasm hit and nearly stole her breath. He withdrew, stood and removed the rest of his clothes. From the moment she had seen him in that commercial, Morgan knew his body would be nothing short of magnificent. And she couldn't wait to get her hands on him, especially his long, thick erection that he sheathed in a condom.