The Southern Nights Series Page 13
“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
One Perfect Twilight
Do happy endings really exist? For Kam and Laney it looks that way. The All-star quarterback is starting for New York and leading his team to the biggest game of his career. The sassy city girl is taking strides, making a name for herself in her own career. Things look bright, but sometimes even the most sparkling relationships can lose their luster. Can Kam and Laney actually find their perfect twilight?
Laney
SAM DRAGS ME down a thunderous tunnel toward the football field. He all but kidnapped me from the comfy skybox I was happily watching the game from just minutes ago.
“Sam, what are you doing? I’m missing the last two minutes!” I tug on my arm, but his grip is like iron.
“Spoiler alert.” His deep voice booms and echoes against the concrete walls. “They win.”
Kam is currently playing in the NFC championship. Actually, playing isn’t the correct word. Crushing the championship is more like it. New York is winning by thirty-six points. At least they were when I was so rudely plucked away from my VIP seat in the sky.
Just as we make our way to the opening of the tunnel, Sam flashes two badges at the security guard, and the behemoth man dressed in all black nods us on.
“Here.” He slips the all-access badge around my neck as I’m blinded by stadium lights. The game is over, and just like Sam said, New York is the new conference champs. It’s so loud and busy on the field I can barely keep my bearings as he drags me across the vibrant green turf. Confetti is raining from the heavens, massive men in padding are celebrating all around us, and the media has swarmed onto the fifty-yard line. It’s not unusual for the family members of the winning team to join the players on the field after a big win, but I’m left wondering why Sam only grabbed me. As we get closer to the mob, Sam strong-arms his way through the bodies. Being an ex-defenseman himself, he knows how to break through a line. It’s no secret Sam the Man and I have had our differences in the past, but we have come to a mutual understanding that we both share a special person and have his best interest at heart. Even though I question him sometimes, I’ve learned there’s a method to his madness, and only good things have arisen for Kam from his strategy.
Speaking of the devil, once Sam and I break through the final layer of people and emerge into a little opening, we find Kam thriving in his natural habitat—the spotlight. He’s in the middle of an interview, but when he sees me tucked protectively under Sam’s muscular arm, he breaks out into a dazzling smile. Even after all these years, my heart and panties melt when he looks at me like that. Like I’m the only person he sees even when the entire world is watching. My cheeks heat from a combination of the superman standing before me and the embarrassment of the media spectacle. I’m not one for the public eye. That’s my father’s and Kam’s arena. They’re born celebrities while I’m just a simple city girl who loves lattes and riding the subway.
Kam reaches for me, his eyes sparkling with victory as he wraps one sweaty, dirty arm around me. He tilts my chin up and kisses me smack dab in the middle of the interview, and for a split second I wish I could hide behind the curtain of my dark hair.
It’s not a chaste kiss either. It’s hot, and emotive and conveys way too much for the public to see.
“Hi, Lemon,” he voices in my ear so only I can hear.
Hi. I respond in my head ‘cause I’m at a loss. I’m like a damn deer in headlights. That kiss was way too expressive. There’s so much going on. There are too many people, and it’s way too loud.
I’m dizzy.
Sam knocks Kam on the shoulder and then hands him something, but I don’t catch what it is. Kam takes the object more than willingly and then looks down at me. His expression is mischievous. Those baby blues burning under the stadium lights. He starts to speak, but I can’t hear a thing he’s saying. I try to read his lips. I love you . . . chemistry . . . high school . . . I make out every fourth or fifth word. I start to shake. He takes my hands and then drops to one knee, my heart plummeting with him. One of the refs watching from the sidelines shoves his mic in Kam’s face and turns on the volume. His voice suddenly booms all around us.
“Laney Summers,” my name echoes. “I wouldn’t be the man I am today without you. Your love, your loyalty, and your support are my foundation. It makes me strive to be better. To make you proud. With you by my side, I’m invincible. And I want to walk hand in hand through this crazy life with you, and only you.” He pops open a little black box, and I involuntarily gasp. “Will you marry me, Lemon?”
I stare, stunned, at the huge square diamond winking back at me. Then I lift my eyes to Kam’s. And in that moment, there’s only us. No reporters or fans or groupies. None of the everyday chaos that being Kamdyn Ellis’s girlfriend brings.
You can strip it all away—his talent, his celebrity, his status—‘cause it’s the man underneath who I love. The man whose heart is as vast and deep as the ocean. Whose confidence could lead an army of giants and whose character will trailblaze through history. He’s a profound example of an American royal. And he’s asking me to be his. Forever.
“You gonna answer the man?” Sam nudges me, and I snap out of my stunned daze.
Oh. “Of course!” I exclaim. “Yes, I’ll marry you!” The happy tears fall, and I think my smile is going to actually crack my face. A roar rips through the stadium as Kam slips the ring on my finger then scoops me up into his arms. The people in our immediate circle clap and congratulate us, but all I can concentrate on is the hold Kam has on me and our image on the Jumbotron. Ellis is emblazoned across my shoulder blades. But I’m not wearing his professional jersey or even his college jersey. I’m wearing the navy-blue jersey from high school. The one that started it all. The one that told the entire student body, and the world, exactly whom I belonged to. Whom I’ve always belonged to, even when we were apart.
Him.
Kam
LANEY AND I haven’t been farther than seven inches apart since we walked through the door. Clothes vaporized and passion ensued as soon as we were alone.
The high of the win and the accelerant of the proposal created a combustible atmosphere. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m awake and alive as if it were the middle of the day. I shift on top of a naked Laney, nestling myself back between her legs.
“Jesus, Kam, again?” she moans sleepily but drops her knees, allowing me to sink into her addictive heat for the umpteenth time tonight. It never gets old being with her. Making love to her, fucking her. It’s like our bodies crave each other the way they instinctually crave food and water. Being with Laney is sustenance. Nourishment impossible to live without.
“I can’t help it.” I move unhurriedly. “I’m wired. The adrenaline is pumping.”
“That’s not th
e only thing pumping.” She cracks a joke with her eyes closed and a little smile etched on her lips.
I chuckle. “Today was the best day of my life.” I kiss her collarbone and circle my hips deliberately slow. Then watch her expression morph, her beautiful facial features tightening as she bites her bottom lip. Blood pounds in my ears like the sound of a drum as I slide easily in and out of her, my cock swollen and throbbing but nowhere near ready to come. I want to feel Laney first. I want the woman I’ve fantasized about calling my wife since high school to fly apart beneath me. Like she does so easily. So fluidly. So in sync with my movements and body.
“Shit, Kam.” She crunches up slightly, anchoring an arm around my neck. It’s her telltale sign.
“Say my name, Lemon. Say my name when you fucking come.”
“Kam,” she huffs, knowing that’s not what I want to hear.
“Are you testing me, Laney?” I drive in deep, and she emits a little gasp.
“I’m always testing you, All-star.”
“Shit, if that ain’t the truth.” My southern drawl sneaks out as I try to keep my focus, but Laney is the one person who jumbles my concentration like the broken pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Put a three-hundred-pound linebacker out for blood in front of me, and I wouldn’t flutter an eyelash. Place a hundred-twenty-pound city girl with a sharp tongue in my path, and I fall all over myself like I have two left feet. We all have a weakness, and Laney is definitely mine. She always has been, since the moment I met her.
“Show me what you got,” Laney challenges me. She knows I’ll rise to the occasion. It’s why I love her so much. She tests me. Keeps me on my toes. Feeds my competitiveness like a number-one contender.
“You’re going to regret asking that.” I thrust into her powerfully. Each strike made with precisioned purpose. “Say my name, Laney. Say it when you come. I know you’re close. I see it on your face. I feel it between your legs. I know exactly what I do to you.” I graze my pelvis against her sensitive clit, and she shivers.
“I’m not one of your little groupies who will give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.” Fuck, this woman drives me mad in all the best possible ways.
“No, you’re not.” I nip at her lip as I grind my hips just a tiny bit faster. Her breathing picks up from my pace. “You’re so much more than just a groupie. You’re the only woman I want in my bed. The only woman I want to live inside of, and the only woman I want to hear say my fucking name.”
“Fuck, Kam.” She’s dangerously close to the edge now.
“The whole thing, Laney.” She knows what I want, and I know she wants me to force it out of her. It’s a push and pull game we play.
I feed the orgasm roaring inside her. The beast belongs to me. It’s all fucking mine.
With a punishing blow, the word I want to hear explodes from her lips. “Kamdyn!” She all but cries as she comes for me. The divine satisfaction I find in Laney’s release is equal to the satisfaction I get from throwing a touchdown or winning a conference championship game. It’s victorious, fueling the warrior inside me.
Just as her pelvic muscles loosen around my cock and her body softens I pull out and flip her onto her stomach. She’s pliable from her orgasm, submitting to my abrupt change in position.
“Fuck, Lemon, you’re so goddamn wet.” My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head as I slip and slide through her slick pussy.
“That’s what you do to me,” she purrs, lifting her hips to grant me better access.
“It’s what you do to me.” I fuck her hard, squeezing and massaging one of her breasts as I become more intoxicated by her body by the second.
And because I am completely selfish when it comes to Laney and her pleasure, I want more. Sliding my hand from her breast to her clit, I rub relentlessly, using the wetness coating us both to demand another orgasm.
“Kam, I can’t.” Panting, she grabs my wrist.
“There’s no such thing as can’t,” I argue as I continue to push her past her limits.
“Kam!” She squirms beneath me, but I don’t let up. I know she can come again, and I’m just the man to make her.
A light sheen of sweat tickles my brow and my chest as my heart pounds to the same rhythm of my cock. Despite all her protests, Laney’s body responds. Like it always does. She’s moaning and writhing, digging her nails into my wrist as her pussy strangles me to death.
“Kam! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” She comes so damn hard she literally petrifies. Her arousal drenches my finger and my throbbing erection, and just when I can’t hold back any longer, when I have restrained myself to the point I’m in pain, I let go. All the energy I possess pools in my lower abdomen and flushes out through my orgasm. My violent thrusts jerk Laney forward. Once, twice, three time’s a charm. I come inside the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. It’s a mind-numbing mix, an emotional and physical clash of the titans. Every part of me hums and buzzes and vibrates as I’m demolished by the wrecking ball of my release.
I collapse on top of Laney, entirely shattered, the air thin and my body spent. Kissing my way lazily across her back, we lie sexually satisfied in silence.
“Mmm,” Laney sighs, fatigued but content. Her skin so soft and smooth. I could skim my lips over it for hours. “You’re going to have to carry me around everywhere tomorrow. I’m not going to be able to walk.”
I smile against her. “I’ll carry you anywhere.”
She lifts her head and looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “I know you would.”
“I wasn’t sure you were going to say yes,” I confess in the dim bedroom light.
Laney pauses before shimmying out from underneath me and wrapping herself around me.
“When does Kamdyn Ellis ever not get what he wants?” She nuzzles her nose into my chest, and the affection is poignant. As much as I enjoy indulging in her body, it’s her love I revel in.
“I didn’t know how you were going to react to the worldwide stage.”
“Did you think I was going to say no?” She sounds genuinely surprised.
I shrug. My huge frame dwarfing her in my arms. “I looked at it like throwing a touchdown. There’s confidence but never certainty.”
“I’ll admit being on the field with all the cameras and lights and people and players was a bit overwhelming, but as soon as I saw you, all my shock and awe and fear disappeared.” She places her fingers on my chin. “It didn’t matter who was around us, all I saw was you.” She kisses my jaw, and I tighten my hold. Laney has been there for me every second of the last two years. Through every grueling game. Victorious wins and heartbreaking losses. Weeks away from her on the road. Sore muscles, pain in the ass teammates, and quarterback groupies.
I was determined to be a great leader when I was traded to New York. But it wasn’t all celebrations and ticker tape parades when I walked into the locker room that first day. I was replacing a senior player. A player who was respected, and up until my trade, confident he owned his position. But that all changed when I showed up. It was a rocky first year. Tabloid headlines littered the Internet about a rival between Alabama’s golden boy and the seasoned vet with several Super Bowl rings. Not all the headlines were false. We did go toe to toe. He didn’t like me, and he made it clear, but I wasn’t going to let him get into my head. At least not at practice or during a game. Home was a different story. The tension took a toll on me. I hated being at odds with a fellow teammate, and Laney let me unload whenever I needed to. She listened, she supported me, and she offered her advice. Which was pretty damn good. Being attached to a pro anything is a challenge in itself. Being the girlfriend—now fiancée—of the Kamdyn Ellis brand is a whole other universe. We are constantly in the public eye. Royalty of the American kind. We may not wear crowns, but we are revered. All because I can throw a pigskin farther and with more accuracy than any QB before me. I never asked to be a celebrity. I just wanted to play football. But I was born under a spotlight, and I’m meeting my fate head on.
“Go to sleep, Lemon.” I press a firm kiss on her head.
“Are you actually going to let me stay asleep this time?”
“No promises.” I grin.
Laney
I AM A survivor of Kamdyn Ellis’s core killing workout. Barely.
My lower body hasn’t hurt this much since . . . I can’t remember when. My very large, very affectionate, fiancé showed me just how much he loved me last night. Over and over again. Not that I’m complaining. I just wish crossing my legs didn’t feel so uncomfortable, especially when I’m surrounded by mine and Kam’s entire family.
Currently, I’m sitting at a large, round table with my father, Celebrity Chef Riley, and Kam’s mother—who have been dating for the last few years—Kam’s father, Steve, his wife Marcy, and Kam’s younger brothers, Trevor and Luke.
It’s a celebration brunch. For our engagement and Kam’s win. It’s not often we have our entire family in one place, so it’s nice to take advantage of this time. Even if the entire restaurant is gawking at us. Kam is recognized wherever we go. It’s hard to miss a six-foot-two quarterback with model good looks and charismatic personality. Especially when his face is plastered all over the tri-state area. He’s as much of a hometown celebrity in New York as he was in Alabama. Even more so now that he’s a pro.