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.

“God, I love your hands.”

“I love touching your sweet body.” He leans down and kisses my breast through the matching black lace. “So sweet.”

I pull at his t-shirt, and he helps me get it over his head, strips out of his basketball shorts and boxer briefs, and tosses them with my dress on the floor. His shoulders are smooth and warm beneath my hands, his muscles firm and bunching as he moves over me, kissing and nibbling my skin.

“Will,” I whisper. He pushes up and braces himself above me, looking down at me with hot blue eyes.

“Yeah, babe.”

God, I want to tell him. I so want to tell him how I love him. How much he means to me. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m just too scared that I’ll lose him. I close my eyes and bite my lip.

“Hey.” He rests his elbows at either side of my head and threads his long fingers in my hair. His body is flush against mine, skin on skin, his pelvis pressed to mine. He is completely surrounding me, and I’ve never felt so safe.

So cherished.

“Meg,” he whispers and kisses my lips gently. “Everything about you is so fucking addicting.” He moves his hips slightly, slipping against the wetness of my core, and pushes into me slowly, effortlessly. He rests his forehead against mine and stills. “I can never get enough of you, sweetheart.”

He kisses me again, softly, hands moving rhythmically in my hair. He is making love to me, body and soul.

“You are amazing.” He begins to move, a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. I raise my hips to meet him, pull my knees up so he’s able to push even deeper and clutch onto his biceps and show him how deeply I care for him in the only way I can.

I clench down onto his hard, pulsating cock, and gasp when his pubic bone pushes against my piercing.

“Damn, Will.”

“Yes, baby, feel it.” He rocks against me again, and when I squeeze once more, he clenches his eyes shut. “Fuck, Meg, you’re so tight.”

His voice is raw. Suddenly, he grips onto my shoulders and pushes into me one last time, hard, and spills himself into me.

“So fucking sweet,” he growls as he rocks against me and takes me over with him.

* * *

How in the hell did I get here?

“Yes! Run, run, run, baby, run!” Tasha, the woman sitting next to me screams, jumping up and down. “That’s my man!” She turns to me and hugs me tightly, her excitement palpable.

I am sitting with a small group of family members of the team players, in a box near the fifty yard line. We have the best seats in the house. Will made sure that I was welcomed and shown the ropes when I got to the Miami Stadium this morning.

We find our seats, watching the guys regroup for the next play and Tasha, a beautiful, and sweet woman with mocha-colored skin and long dark hair, smiles over at me. “Is this your first away game?”

“Yeah, pretty obvious, huh?”

She laughs and shrugs. “We’ve all been the newbie at some point. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

“Do you come to all the away games?” I ask her and watch intently as Will throws the ball and is immediately sacked. I cringe and pray. Please, God, don’t let him get hurt.

“No, only a couple a year. Most of us choose one or two games to travel to. We’re lucky with this sport; the guys are home a lot, and away games only take them away from home for a few days.”

Nodding thoughtfully, I turn my attention back to the game. Will has the ball and is looking for somewhere to pass, but there just isn’t anywhere, so he runs. “Oh, shit. Go, Will!” I stand and scream, and then hold my fingers over my mouth as I watch him run, my stomach clenching in fear that he’ll get tackled and hurt, but he runs through the defense and another thirty yards into the end-zone.

“Yes!” I jump and scream and laugh. “Touchdown, babe!”

Will throws the ball to the ref and jogs back toward the sideline, his teammates high-five and slap his helmet in congratulations, and I just can’t stop smiling.

I’m so fucking proud of him!

Tasha smiles over at me as I sit next to her. “He’s good.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“He’s a really great guy too,” she mentions casually.

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met,” I reply immediately. And I mean it.

I feel Tasha’s gaze on me, and I meet hers straight on.

“He’s a lucky guy.”

“No,” I shake my head and watch him take his helmet off and talk with a coach. “I’m the lucky one.” Will is nodding at what the coach is saying, his hands propped on his lean hips, panting with exertion from the last play. He looks up into the stands and finds us, his eyes lock onto mine and he winks and taps his nose, just like he did that first weekend, when he told me to watch at half-time. I am so fucking lucky.