Page 64 of Red Zone

We moved at the same time, our lips colliding in a kiss that was anything but tentative. It was fierce, all-consuming, a declaration of everything we’d been holding back. His hands cradled my face, angling me to deepen the kiss, and I let myself fall completely. My fingers fumbled with his shirt, tugging at the fabric until my hands found warm skin, his muscles taut under my touch.

The sharp intake of his breath against my mouth sent a thrill through me, and when his fingers found the hem of my shirt, my breath caught. We peeled away layers with reverence and urgency, each piece of clothing discarded as if shedding the barriers between us. When he pulled me back into his arms, skin to skin, it was like the world outside this room ceased to exist.

His touch wasn’t just heat—it was comfort, connection, everything I never realized I was searching for. As his lips trailed along my jaw, down the curve of my neck, I knew the feeling wasn’t fleeting. It wasn’t just desire—it was love, raw and unfiltered, a love that promised more than that moment.

Sensual promise flickered in his eyes, dark and unyielding. The heat rolling off him was almost tangible as he crowded closer, and I instinctively hooked my leg around his waist, drawing him in. His hand moved up the curve of my thigh with agonizing patience, his touch igniting every nerve it grazed.

The flex of his broad shoulders sent a shiver down my spine as he guided my hand above my head, pinning it there. My fingers twitched in his grip, desperate to roam over the sculpted lines I couldn’t stop devouring with my eyes.

I trembled, desire coiling tight within me as his mouth left mine to press hot, lingering kisses down my neck. When his teeth scraped the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder, I gasped, a dizzying rush overtaking me. My hand found his shoulders, greedily tracing the ridges of muscle that shifted and tensed under my touch.

He released his hold on me and cupped the back of my neck, angling my head, his lips brushing mine in maddening strokes, teasing and unrelenting. I writhed against him, the subtle friction of his kiss sparking jolts of electricity that shot straight through me. Every caress sent waves of fire skittering across my skin, leaving me a trembling mess. Leashed power thrummed beneath my fingertips, his strength barely contained, and I moaned as he deepened the kiss, his tongue coaxing, commanding.

My body was alive—hypersensitive, pulsing with a rhythm only he could set. I was unraveling, every touch, every kiss, pulling me further under his spell. Need tore through me, and I arched as his length pressed against my hot core, slicking theway for his entry. Nails digging into his trim waist, I urged him to hurry.

When his fingers traced my seam, I cried out, arching higher to meet him. Feverish nerve pulses shot through me when his thick length plunged inside, stretching me, and I exploded around him in quivering convulsions.

I clung to him while my head swam as sensation after sensation crested in waves, following each powerful thrust. His corded muscles flexed and bulged beneath my fingertips. When he slid a hand between our bodies to dip between my folds, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves there, I cried out, throbbing around him.

He trailed heated kisses along my neck, whispering my name. Then his moan vibrated against my skin, and he chased my climax with his own, heightening my aftershocks.

Cradled in the strength of his embrace, I slowly regulated my breathing, neither of us willing to move. When he finally pulled out, I whimpered, wanting him all over again, despite knowing we only had moments before we needed to get dressed and leave for obligations that couldn’t wait, but right then, none of that mattered. The world outside could keep spinning, but in here, time slowed down, allowing us to savor the stolen seconds.

With every shared glance, every whispered word, and every lingering touch, we etched the moment into our memories, a secret oasis we could revisit when the weight of reality pressed down on us again.

I clung to him, my heart pounding, and in his arms, I didn’t just feel safe—I felt whole. Together, we were everything I’d ever dreamed of and more, a world waiting to be discovered, one breathtaking moment at a time.

EPILOGUE

SKYE

One year later…

The late-summer sun painted the house in a golden glow as I stepped onto the back porch, my phone in hand. Not long after Liam joined the Kansas City Chiefs, I’d applied for a PR position, and based on my success with the Fall Lake University Falcon’s social media, I’d been hired as an assistant. I loved my job, and working at the same facility where Liam was made it even better.

The Chiefs’ Instagram needed fresh content, and I’d quickly learned that nothing fired up fans like action shots and behind-the-scenes glimpses. I snapped a quick photo of Liam’s cleats and helmet resting on the back porch steps, covered with grass stains from practice. It was the kind of detail that told its own story—a grind-it-out day that fans loved. I added it to my drafts, brainstorming a caption to get the comments rolling.

My gaze drifted to the backyard, where Lily twirled in the grass, her laughter carrying on the warm breeze. Her “Big Sister”T-shirt stood out like a beacon, the pink letters bold against the white fabric. I couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Lily,” I called, my voice soft but steady, “it’s almost time to meet Daddy for dinner.”

She skipped over, her little hand slipping into mine, warm and familiar. I glanced down at the sparkling diamond on my finger, the sunlight making it dance. That ring wasn’t just a symbol—it was a promise that Liam and I had fought so hard to keep.

Inside, the sound of the game replay filled the house. Liam’s name rang out, the announcer’s voice full of excitement. “Let’s talk about Liam Cartwright,” the commentator’s voice boomed. “He’s been nothing short of spectacular this season. Another stellar performance on Sunday—two hundred fifty yards, two touchdowns, and a clutch scramble to seal the win. The Chief’s starter is proving he’s the real deal, and the league is noticing.”

I couldn’t help but smile, pride blooming in my chest. Witnessing Liam step into his own on the field was everything I’d known he was capable of—and more. He’d earned every bit of that praise.

“And it’s not just Cartwright making waves,” the second commentator added. “It’s worth noting that he’s part of a rare trio of standouts from the same college team. Kylian Wilder, now Miami’s starting quarterback, has been electrifying the league with his precision passes and clutch plays. Meanwhile, Ares Bellingham has become a household name as San Francisco’s star tight end, dominating the red zone with a physicality that’s almost impossible to defend against.”

“Three NFL stars from one university,” the first commentator chimed in. “It’s a testament to the kind of talent Fall Lake University can produce. They didn’t just play together—they thrived together. You don’t see that kind of chemistry and competitive fire come out of one program very often.”

My heart swelled at the mention of Liam’s closest friends. It wasn’t just his journey that had come full circle—it was all of theirs. From their college years at Fall Lake to making their mark in the pros, they’d fought side by side for everything they had. Knowing they were still part of each other’s lives, even as they carved out their individual legacies, made their success more meaningful.

I grabbed my bag and ushered Lily out the door, driving the short distance to the Italian restaurant we’d made our go-to since moving to Kansas. As we walked in, I spotted Liam instantly. His shirt clung to him, his hair damp and messy, and his signature grin lit up the room when he saw us.

“Hey, there’s my girls.” He scooped Lily into his arms.

“Daddy!” she squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

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