Love in Play

by Zuri Day

  The center’s toss to Kareem was perfect. Justin went straight for his man, blocking him to the left and taking him out of the play. Kareem faked a handoff to the running back while Justin came across the field. Kareem threw a short, five-yard dump over the tall defensive end to the even taller Hurricane tight end. Justin caught the pass, did a head shake on his defender, and started down the field. Thirty yard line. The offensive line was picking off their men. Out of the corner of his eye Justin saw the Panther cornerback heading his way. He put his head down and picked up speed. The wide receiver blocked the corner. Forty yard line. There was just one person between Justin and the goal. Jake’s words floated across his mind. Don’t be intimidated by anyone or anything. Justin ran right at the defender. Or, rather, he ran right over him. He hit his opponent square in the chest with his shoulder and made quick work of the remaining forty yards. Touchdown!

  For the next ten minutes, the ball went back and forth—a fumble here, a missed pass there. Tension was high on both sides, nerves were higher, especially when the Panthers hit a field goal making the score 24–21.

  They hit the two-minute mark: Panthers’ ball. The Panthers made quick work of eating up the yards and with one minute and thirty seconds remaining, the Hurricanes found themselves defending at the thirty-yard line. The Panthers’ sideline called the third-down play. Brad dropped back to pass. The Hurricane cornerback intercepted and ran the ball back to the thirty-yard line. Twenty-nine seconds remaining. Shawn called the play from the sideline: Twister on the Ground. The center snapped the ball. Justin shook his defender and streaked to the middle of the field. Kareem threw the pass. Justin literally plucked the ball from the halfback’s would-be intercepting hands. He had to jump up to do it, though, and when he came down, it was with a defender’s arms wrapped around his legs ... ten yards from the goal line. Ten seconds left. No time outs. No huddle.

  “Hut, hut, hike!”

  Kareem caught the ball and ran straight for the middle. He spun once, twice, and sidestepped a tackle, high-stepping over the goal line. Dominique whooped as she jumped to her feet; she, Kathy, Ian, and other parents formed a group hug. Even Reggie caught the joy, giving Alejandro a cool high five. The bench rushed the field, followed by the fans. Dominique made her way to the grass, holding back from the swarm that surrounded her man.

  Jake answered a couple questions and then noted Dominique standing on the side. He waved her over. When she reached him, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips.

  Dominique pulled back, surprised. During the week, she and Jake had agreed to take things to another level but he’d said nothing about their going public. “Baby,” she whispered into his ear, against the din of those around him, “the team and parents don’t know that we’re seeing each other.”

  Jake’s eyes sparkled as he once again hugged her hard against her chest. He leaned and spoke into her ear. “They do now.”

  44

  Monday morning and Dominique’s mood was as bright and colorful as the orange, red, and yellow autumn leaves that had fallen in her front yard. Even François’s e-mail demanding ridiculous, unnecessary reports couldn’t dampen her mood. Her son was a football star, the Hurricanes were champions, and she was in love.

  “Hold my calls,” she directed Reggie as she picked up her latte from his desk. “For the next hour, I don’t wish to be disturbed.”

  She entered her office, turned on her computer, flipped through her task list and began wading through more than a hundred e-mails. She tried to focus but try as she might, she couldn’t keep her mind on work. A man named Jake, and memories from the weekend, kept getting in the way.

  “Who are we?”

  “Hurricanes!”

  “What do we do?”

  “Tear it up!”

  The party had moved from the stadium to Ian and Kathy’s home, flowing between their kitchen, great room, and landscaped backyard complete with tennis court and swimming pool. Pizza, chicken wings, chips, and Jake’s mandatory salad crowded the counter. The boys, filled with the adrenaline of victory, were boisterous in their celebration.

  At one point, Dominique slipped away from the crowd in search of the bathroom and, honestly, some peace and quiet. She was as jubilant as the rest of them but for the first time she realized the advantage of having only one child—the noise ratio was decidedly less. She admired the Longmires’ home as she made her way down a short stairway into what looked to be the den. She noted a bathroom to the left of the steps and was making a beeline to it when she was accosted from behind.

  Dominique gasped and immediately smelled Jake’s cologne right before she felt a large hand place a firm grasp on her behind. “Jake!” she hissed. “Stop, someone will see us!”

  “I don’t care,” Jake murmured, reaching around and tweaking a nipple. “I’m ready to continue the celebration in the privacy of my bedroom.”

  Dominique turned around, admiration shining in her eyes. “You did good today, Coach. I’m so proud of you.”

  Jake acknowledged the compliment by pulling Dominique into his arms and grinding himself into her. “Justin is going to spend the night with Travis so you and I can be together.”

  Dominique looked up, surprised. “How did this happen?”

  “You think Ian and Kathy don’t know what’s up?”

  “I love you, Jake McDonald.”

  Later that night, with no one to distract them, she showed him just how much.

  Dominique’s cell phone rang. She smiled as she looked at the caller ID. “Hey, little sis.”

  “Hey, big sis,” Faith replied. “For a minute, I thought I was going to have to send a search party out.”

  “Didn’t you get my text?”

  “Girl, you know I’m not into that newfangled stuff. I called your cell phone and your home phone. Went to voicemail all weekend.” Dominique could imagine her sister’s raised brow. “Hum. Wonder where we were ...”

  “Ha! You know where I was, girl—with Jake.” Dominique paused, her face breaking out into a smile. “I told him, Faith.”

  “Told him what?”

  “That I loved him, and that I was ready to put aside my fears and officially enter a relationship. We went public this weekend.”

  Faith whooped. “I love it! When you make a decision you don’t waste time!”

  “It wasn’t planned; at least not by me. I think we just got caught up in the excitement of the game.”

  “Yeah, Aaron and Michael told me all about it, much to my dismay.”

  “Ha! Justin was so proud that his cousin was there; thank them again for me, because it meant the world to my son. I wish you’d been there, too.”

  “Next time, sis. You know that family has to support one another. By the time Justin makes it to the NFL, I’ll need him to support me!” The sisters laughed. “I haven’t heard you this happy in a long time, Nikki. It warms my heart. So ... when are we going to meet the big fella?”

  Aaron and Michael had met Jake after the game, but he would be the first man Dominique would officially introduce to the family since the disaster called Kevin. Yet she answered with no hesitation. “How about this Sunday?”

  The next few hours passed quickly and soon Dominique was on her way to Sunset Boulevard and her luncheon appointment with Mirabelle’s contact, the man who was supposed to be her saving grace, should she go toe-to-toe with François in a Capricious showdown.

  Dominique walked confidently to the swanky eatery that had been all the rage since it made its debut last year on Los Angeles’s Westside. She’d visited the establishment a few times: once for a friend’s birthday, another time for a benefit, and again on a sorta kinda blind date. On those occasions she’d admired the establishment’s maître d’ from a distance. Not only was he efficient in this position but he was also very easy on the eyes. Who knew that now, more than six months later, their paths would cross professionally.

  She stepped inside and announced herself to the gorgeous redhe
ad who greeted her. A few moments later she was escorted upstairs to the small yet luxuriously appointed offices. Her savior sat behind the desk, looking like a Michelangelo masterpiece. Upon her entrance, he rose and walked to her with arms outstretched.

  “Dominique, it is my pleasure.” He air-kissed each side of her face.

  “Mr. Marquis, the pleasure is mine.”

  “Please, call me Xavier.” He led her to a sitting area opposite the black ebony desk that anchored one side of the room. “For you Americans it’s early for drinking but we French rarely dine without embellishment. May I offer you a glass of champagne?”

  “One small one,” Dominique answered, emphasizing small with her thumb and forefinger.

  Xavier pushed the intercom button and after informing the waiter of his request returned his attention to Dominique. “Mirabelle says you have a bit of a ... situation, no?”

  “How much of it did she share with you?”

  “All of it. But I’d very much like to hear your perspective.”

  For the next hour, between delicious bites of tapas-style soul food dishes that the establishment, Tosts, was known for, Dominique shared her point of view. Marquis asked a few intelligent, pointed questions but mostly he listened—intently.

  As they finished up with bite-sized sweet-potato balls covered with finely chopped pecans, Dominique got right to the point. “Do you have any suggestions on how best to counter the François situation?”

  Xavier Marquis sat back, his tapered, manicured fingers steepled beneath his mouth. His startling brown eyes were framed with long, curly lashes and stood out of an aristocratic-looking face with sharp, defined features, and a shock of thick, black hair. He studied Dominique for several seconds before blessing her with a dazzling white smile.

  “As Mirabelle told you, I have long had an interest in fashion. Several of my very good friends are in the industry.”

  Dominique nodded, having heard from Mirabelle that Marquis and Christian Louboutin were longtime buds.

  “I’ve followed your magazine’s progress from the beginning and from where I sit I see only one thing that’s missing.”

  A slight frown marred Dominique’s face. “What’s that?”

  “You,” Xavier calmly replied.

  Instead of responding, Dominique sat back and continued to listen.

  “You have made your presence known behind the scenes, but look at you. You are the very embodiment of what Capricious stands for: big, beautiful, and bodacious. You’ve told celebrity stories and put their pictures on the cover. Now, it is your turn. You, in my humble opinion, should become the official face of Capricious.”

  45

  “Mon dieu! It is brilliant, Dominique, brilliant!”

  It was eleven o’clock at night in Paris but, as requested, Dominique had called Mirabelle from her car as soon as she’d left Tosts and Xavier Marquis.

  “I told you that he was the answer. I am right, always, tell me.”

  “You are always right,” Dominique said, laughing. “But really, Mirabelle, what would people think of me putting myself on the cover?”

  “They’d think you’re as smart as Oprah Winfrey,” Mirabelle replied. “She puts herself on every cover and the public loves it!”

  “The public has had twenty-five years to get to know Oprah,” Dominique commented drily. “People don’t know Dominique Clark. They could give a hoot.”

  “A hoot?”

  “They couldn’t care less,” Dominique said, adjusting her answer for one whose first language was not English.

  “Not yet,” Mirabelle went on, nonplussed. “Not until you share your story, bare your soul. Don’t you see, Dominique? You are one of them, a working woman and single mother. You’ve battled low self-esteem, weight issues, and worthless men.”

  “I see that you and Solveig have been talking and I’ve been the topic of discussion,” Dominique said matter-of-factly but without anger. “Thanks for painting such a flattering picture.”

  “It is why people will find you so relatable. Your story plus a beautiful fashion spread will endear you to the subscribers and Xavier will make sure you get seen by people who’ll help your star rise. When people think of Capricious they’ll think of you, and then there will be no way those sanctimonious scallywags will think to let you go.”

  By the end of the day, Dominique’s mood had lightened considerably. She didn’t even mind that because of the time she’d spent securing her future, she had to put back on her editor-in-chief hat and work after hours. She called Tessa, spoke with Justin, had Reggie bring her a smoothie before leaving, and then settled in for three or four more hours of work.

  It was a little after eight when Dominique heard a soft knock on the outer executive office doors. She frowned, thinking it odd that Peter would come up without calling. Shrugging, she walked to the door and pressed the intercom. “Peter, is that you?”

  No answer.

  Dominique’s heart skipped a beat. “Peter?” she asked, a little louder.

  “No.”

  What? Dominique hurriedly opened the door. “How did you get up here?” she asked, pulling Jake into her personal domain.

  “I’ve got connections.” He followed her inside. “I bribed Peter into bringing me up.”

  “Remind me to thank him. Whatever is in that bag smells delicious. You’re always thinking of me, baby. How’d you know I was hungry?”

  Jake put down the bag and wrapped Dominique in his arms. “Because I knew that I was.”

  He tilted up Dominique’s chin, and looked deep into her eyes. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  “It never hurts to hear it from the lips of a hand- some man.”

  Jake did what he’d dreamed of all day: lowered said lips to Dominique’s and, using his tongue, eased open her mouth. Dominique pressed her girls against his chest. Jake moaned and walked them to the love seat he spied in the distance. He eased them down onto it and began his assault in earnest, reaching for the buttons on Dominique’s sleek, silk blouse, pushing away the fabric and filling his palms with her 44 DDDs. He tweaked each nipple before slipping his hand inside the staunch cotton of her bra and immediately knew that the item’s full-figure, full-support was in his way.

  “Take it off,” he demanded, sitting up and pulling Dominique to a sitting position as well.

  “Baby, I’m at work,” she protested, even as her fingers went to the back clasp of their own volition.

  “We’re getting ready to work all right.” He watched with fascination as the bra fell and twin brown balloons swayed their greeting. He responded by taking a dark nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it even as he ran his hand along Dominique’s gelatinous backside. “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

  “Jake ...”

  “You can either take off the skirt or I’m getting ready to make a belt out of it.”

  The commanding tone he used turned Dominique all the way on. She stood and quickly shed her skirt, totally unaware of what a picture she painted standing there in her thigh high hose, four-inch heels, and high-cut white panties against her smooth, cocoa skin. Jake dropped to his knees and buried his nose in her treasure. Dominique’s knees almost buckled. She grabbed his shoulders for support and hung on for the ride. Jake lapped her nectar through the soft cotton fabric, an act that made her hotter than if he had touched her bare skin. It was a moment before she realized that the mewling sounds she heard were her own. He placed his hand between her legs, directing her to spread them. She did, and he shifted the fabric to the side, running a finger along her folds, nodding in satisfaction as if the play he called had been properly executed.

  “Let’s see what kind of work you do,” he said, standing abruptly.

  “Huh, uh, what?” Dominique asked weakly, her mind in a lust-induced haze.

  “Come over here,” he commanded, guiding her toward her desk. Dominique followed dumbly, as if this was her first time in the office. “Uh-huh, this looks inter
esting,” he said as he carefully stacked the pictures and articles and placed them to the side. “Sit down. Oh, wait, you won’t be needing these.” He pulled the panties over her full, rounded hips, down her thick thighs, and over calves that knew how to fill out a pair of boots.

  Dominique sighed as she sat on the desk.

  “Lay back.”

  She did.

  Jake sat in Dominique’s red leather-covered executive chair as if he owned it. Once again, he spread her wide and this time, there was no doubt left to his mission. He licked and sucked and nibbled until Dominique was in a frenzy, begging for him to get inside her. She didn’t have to wait long—Jake was hard as a rock. He shed his pants and boxers, placed Dominique’s legs over his shoulders and proceeded to “tear it up.” Nine thick, throbbing inches of intense heat seared Dominique like iron. Her cat was as hot as molten lava. The dance was hard and intense and then slow and purposeful. Jake hit her spot, and Dominique hit a high note, her body shaking with the intensity of her release. Jake followed shortly after, hissing as he basked in his own ecstasy. Afterwards he leaned over, kissed Dominique lazily, lovingly, and then pulled her to him. He sat down in her chair, pulled her into his lap. An average-size man Dominique would have crushed, but with Jake she actually felt petite. There were no words. None were needed. She snuggled into his hard chest, relished the feel of his massive arms wrapped around her, and did something she’d never done in five years at Capricious. Dominique fell fast asleep at her desk.

  46

  “You did what?” Faith shooed Alexis out of her bedroom and closed the door.

  Dominique giggled, glad to be able to finally share what had happened three days ago. Faith had been dealing with her daughter, who’d been home sick with the flu. This was the first chance she’d had for a heart-to-heart. “We made love in my office. Girl, it was so good, that man knocked me out!”