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.