Once I finally make it through the hallway and into the airport, I literally run. Luckily, my only carry-on was a duffel bag, so it was easy to stow under the seat and sling over my shoulder. I pass the last final exit sign and make it down the escalator where there is passenger pickup. It takes me all of three seconds to spot Kam. He’s standing in the middle of JFK wearing loose jeans, his favorite Roll Tide T-shirt, and a backward hat. He’s circled by a small crowd of fans, asking for autographs. Years ago, this would have upset me—today, I’m elated because I see how happy it makes him. He’s a born star, reveling in the role. There is no denying it and no taking it away from him.
“Kam!” I yell just as I step off the escalator. He looks up at the sound of his name. My feet carry me faster than I anticipate and the crowd parts as we move toward each other. I don’t even try to be modest. I drop my bag, jump into his arms, and plant a kiss right on his lips that mothers have to shield their children’s eyes from. I hear the camera phones snapping away, and know this kiss is going to go viral in nanoseconds, but I couldn’t care less. Right now, the only thing that’s important is Kam and me.
Not his status, or his fans, or the media, or even the team.
What’s most important is just Kam and me. . . .
My eyes are still closed when I feel Laney’s lips on my neck. I moan sleepily.
“Morning,” she sings softly, seductively.
“Morning,” I grumble as I grab her hip.
“Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” She grazes her hand over my shorts.
“Persuade me.” I smile with my eyes still closed.
“I plan to.” She covers my mouth with hers. Our tongues duel and our hands roam until there’s nothing separating our bare skin. Laney spoils me. Ever since we got back together, our bond has become stronger. There are no questions, only answers: yes, mine, always, yours, together, forever.
She straddles me, taking the reins. She likes to take control, and I love it when she does. That confidence is what has always drawn me to her; it’s what makes me so fucking hot for her.
She’s all ready to go; no foreplay this morning. Laney knows what she wants and she’s going after it. It isn’t much different outside the bedroom either. She’s a wildfire, a force to be reckoned with.
In one easy move, I’m engulfed in her heat, my body turning over with ecstasy. I pull her against me—one hand on her neck, the other on her lower back—and meet her thrust for thrust. This isn’t going to last long, but it’s going to be intense.
Fucking intense, just like Laney.
“Kam.” She bites my bottom lip and moans as her body stiffens.
“Laney,” I goad her as I slide my hand down to her ass and push her right to the precipice.
“Fuck!” She spasms, coming hard, which prompts my own release. I watch her until I can’t keep my eyes open, until the pleasure drags me under, demanding total control.
How did my life become so perfect? It seems as if I just woke up one day and had everything I ever wanted.
“Morning,” Laney says lazily, resting on my chest.
“I think you said that already.” I breathe heavily.
“Did I?” She laughs. “I can’t remember what happened before five minutes ago.”
“I can walk you through it again if you want to be reminded,” I say salaciously.
“Mmm, I would be all for that, but someone has to get up for training camp.” She pushes off me, but I grab her wrist.
“If it was anything else, I would blow it off to spend the morning in bed with you.”
Laney smiles, her tousled brown hair falling over one side of her flushed face. “I know.”
“Good.”
“Now get up.” She jumps out of bed and drags on my T-shirt. “If we hurry, I can make coffee and we can catch the sunrise.”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I say, smiling like a stupid fool as she leaves the bedroom. My life really is perfect.
I take a quick shower, throw on my training clothes, and find Laney out on the balcony. Since the stadium is not technically in New York, we decided to rent an apartment in New Jersey, a stone’s throw away from the city. Laney was able to get her internship back, so she takes the ferry across the Hudson every morning. I’ll admit, for a small town boy, I am enjoying the big city. I’m especially enjoying the happiness I see on Laney’s face every time she takes me to one of her favorite places or shares a story from her childhood. Being here, I can picture it all.
Laney hands me my coffee as I put one arm around her. Together, we watch the morning light slowly creep up over the horizon, the buildings turning gold and orange as the entire skyline illuminates right before our very eyes.
There’s definitely nothing like this in Alabama.
I draw in a serene breath, holding Laney tight.
It is one spectacular Northern morning.
The end
Marissa Carmel has loved writing ever since a young age. She has a duel degree in History and Political Science, but took as many creative writing classes in college as she could. She spent most of her twenties bartending, which is where she met her husband and a multitude of interesting people. When she’s not reading or writing, she’s hanging out with her family, experimenting in her kitchen or doing yoga on the living room floor.
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OTHER WORKS BY MARISSA CARMEL
Stripped From You (Strip You Series #1)
Strip Me Bare (Strip You Series #2)
One Southern Night
For Megan Smith, our friendship means the world. You have done so much for me, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express my gratitude. For Allison Friar, for informing me about all things Crimson Tide and Alabama. To my brother, Jerry, for sharing his football and locker room stories. My husband, Danny, being married to a quarterback paid off. My editor, Jenny Sims, my all-star copy editor Candy Royer, my amazeballs cover designer Marisa Shor (Cover Me, Darling). The wonderful ladies at Perfectly Publishable, for reminding me of the details. I’m an airhead that will never change. To Eric McKinney @ 6:12 Photography, for taking pictures of Chase Ketron with a football. And for MC’s groupies, for always wanting more. Till the next!
One Northern Morning (A Novella) (Southern Nights Novella Series #2) Page 6