by Desiree Day
J.T. chuckled. “Consider it done.” He settled behind Christian and grabbed his waist, his dick throbbing. He rubbed the tip of his shaft across Christian’s brown opening, he trembled. No longer able to wait, J.T. slowly eased his cock inside Christian, taking his time, allowing him to accommodate his dick. J.T. exhaled softly when his balls caressed, his lover’s ass. J.T.’s strokes were leisurely as he moved in and out of Christian.
Christian grabbed his dick and stroked it as J.T.’s balls slapped against him. J.T. moaned. “Your ass looks so good.”
“Doesn’t it feel good?” Christian teased.
“Oh yeah.”
“Well smack it.”
J.T. pulled his hand back and smacked one of Christian’s taut globes. “Oh shit!” he shouted as he came. J.T.’s grip tightened and his thrusts increased as the pressure built. With a loud yell he came. They fell on the bed together, Christian nestled against J.T.
J.T.’s trip to Detroit extended from one day to four. He and Christian spent the time in bed, only getting out to shower and answer the door for their room service.
Wednesday morning, while J.T. was packing his overnight bag, he turned to Christian. “So what are you doing this weekend?”
“I don’t know. I need to check my schedule. Why?”
“I want you with me…I want you to come to Atlanta.”
Chapter 14
“Hey, I’m going to start training soon then the season starts right after that, so have you decided what you wanted to do?”
Simone shrugged. “I don’t know. If I do something I want to do it right.”
“I just want you to be happy and not bored once I start traveling. Okay let’s talk about this.” He stretched out on his bed. Simone was perched on the edge. “I wish Kirk was here, he’d be able to offer some financial advice.”
“Oh, I can call him,” Simone eagerly offered. She snatched up her cellphone and dialed the number.
J.T. cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Hang up,” he ordered quietly.
“What? Why?”
“Hang up,” he hissed, his body tense.
Simone clicked off her phone and turned towards her husband. “What’s wrong?”
“How do you know his number so well. Hell, you didn’t even speed dial it, you knew it by heart. How is that?”
Simone hesitated. She couldn’t tell her husband that she and Kirk are lovers and have been getting together twice or sometimes three days a week for the last two months, or that when he traveled for business she spent the night at his house. Nor could she tell J.T. that she was falling in love with his friend.
“Because I’ve been calling him about business opportunities, that’s why,” she lied smoothly.
J.T. studied her and Simone’s gaze didn’t waver. “And that’s all it better be,” he said gruffly. “We’ll leave him alone right now and pull him in once we decide on something.”
“Sounds great!”
“So, here’s what I’ve been thinking. You can open a boutique, a cupcake bakery, a little café or a museum.”
Simone frowned. “They all sound interesting, but I don’t know. I want something that I’ll be passionate about. Something that I can’t wait to get to in the morning.”
“Do some research and let me know, but try to keep it below a million five.”
Simone gulped. “A million five? Wow! J.T. I thought you were talking about like twenty or thirty thousand and even that was a lot, but a million five? Wow!”
J.T. chuckled. “I know it’s a lot.”
“How can you just throw that amount of money around like it’s pennies?”
J.T. arched an eyebrow. “You do know how much I’m worth don’t you?” he arrogantly asked.
She playfully punched his feet. “I know…but still, that’s a lot. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For believing in me.”
“Not a problem. Oh, are you available tomorrow afternoon?”
“Sure what’s up?”
“I made an appointment for us to visit a fertility specialist to talk about getting you pregnant.”
“Oh!”
“You sound disappointed. Don’t you want a child or two?”
“I do,” she hurriedly, reassured him. “But wouldn’t the doctor wonder why two young and healthy people want to see a fertility specialist instead of trying on their own?”
“First of all they won’t know that we haven’t been trying on our own and if they ask, we can always lie and tell them that we have been trying and we’re just becoming impatient and secondly, this doctor is very discreet. And there will be the usual questions about our health and stuff.”
“Okay just asking.”
The next afternoon J.T. had left and told her that he wouldn’t be back for a couple of days. Two hours later she was in her car, en route to Kirk’s house. After two months, his placed felt more like home to her than J.T.’s mansion did. She had a second wardrobe at his place.
They were sitting in the outside entertainment area. It boasted a partial kitchen, a commercial grade grill and all season furniture. There were many water features that made the outside feel like a spa. Some days when Kirk was busy working, she liked to sit outside and listen to the water, the sound soothed her.
“He wants to see a fertility specialist,” Simone told Kirk. J.T.’s request had shocked her, she wasn’t expecting him to ask for a baby so soon in the marriage.
Kirk turned away from the grill, momentarily ignoring the tuna steaks he was cooking. “What do you want to do?” he asked, unperturbed by the announcement.
Simone smiled at him. He looked so sexy grilling in his wife beater. She never had a relationship like this before, one that was so real.
She walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his back. “I wish you’d get me pregnant,” she whispered.
Chapter 15
“Are you excited?”
J.T. shrugged nonchalantly. “A little.” Then he smiled brightly. “Okay a lot. This is huge.”
“You should be, you’re up for Best NFL player and Best Male Athlete and the Jaguars are up for Best Team.”
“It would be nice to have an ESPY and the Super Bowl ring, it’s everything I’ve been working for.”
“You’ll get it, J.T.,” she said confidently. “You deserve it. So how do I look?”
She twirled around for him. Although the ESPY’s wasn’t scheduled to start for hours, they had to get to the theatre early, J.T. had dozens of interviews and some of the reporters requested to interview her as well.
“You look beautiful.” And she did, better than she had in her life. Because of a skin peel and flawless makeup her skin glowed healthfully and thanks to her exercising sessions, her body was toned. A couple of weeks ago, Ms. Chanté had brought over to her house several racks of clothes for her to try on, along with matching accessories. After going through several bottles of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries, and trying on ten different dresses, she found one that she fell in love with, a red, backless cleavage baring creation that clung to her body. It was from an up and coming designer. With the help of Spanx, some body parts were given extra boosts. Her hair was parted in the middle and fell down in beachy waves to her shoulders.
Simone beamed at him. “Thanks. And you’re looking good too.”
“As always,” he replied arrogantly. He brushed his shoulders. He had decided to go the formal route and picked out an Armani suit. The garment fit him impeccably and showed off his body to a T.
Simone rolled her eyes, although he was right. Even before they were married and he would come into the diner he always looked hot, even if he was just wearing a pair of running pants and a T-shirt.
J.T. nodded towards the sofa. “Let’s talk before it gets too crazy.”
“Sure.” She strolled over to the couch, then gingerly lowered herself. “I didn’t practice sitting down in this dress, hopefully, I’ll make it.” She
held her breath while slowly making her descent and exhaled loudly when she made contact. She had brought a second dress just in case something happened to this one. “Made it.”
J.T. wiped a hand across his brow. “Whew! That was touch and go for a minute. I was waiting for it to split.” They both laughed at the image. J.T. sat down next to her, Simone patiently waited for him to talk. “Having a good time?”
“I am,” she gushed. “I love L.A., just love it.”
J.T. had decided that since they were going to be in L.A. for the ESPY Awards Ceremony that they spend the week on the West coast. Aleesha had booked them a room at the Ritz-Carlton and Simone loved it. She was still getting used to be married to a celebrity and it felt funny to her to have so many people fawn over her and to be at her beck and call.
“You know that Marcella will be with us during the interviews?”
“Yes,” she replied, wondering where he was going.
“And you know that the eyes of the sporting world will be on us?”
“Yes.”
“This is very important to me.”
“I know, J.T. you don’t have to worry. I know my role.” And I have my script memorized, she said to herself. Marcella had drilled her on correct responses to interview questions. And when a reporter didn’t bow to Marcella’s demands and send the questions over before the interview, Marcella pulled questions from her vast history and threw them at her.
Simone could recite the story of how and when she and J.T. met, a couple anecdotes about their honeymoon and the advantages of being married to the top NFL player. Marcella even made them give each other cute nicknames that were totally vomit worthy. Marcella had done such a good job of drumming it into her that she dreamt about it.
“Just show everybody that I’m your man and you love me,” he said shyly, after casting his gaze downward like a child.
Simone cupped his chin and lifted his face, they studied each other before she spoke. “J.T. I do love you. I don’t have to fake that,” she insisted. And she did love J.T. although, like she would a brother or a favorite cousin. “I know exactly what to do,” she reassured him. Then she did something that made him smile, she stood up and grabbed his hand. And without any reporters around, without any fans lurking, and without any paparazzi barreling towards them, they strolled hand-in-hand out of their suite and faced the public together.
A couple hours later after the exhausting rounds of interviews, J.T. and Simone were walking the red carpet, stopping every couple of steps to be photographed. Simone was almost blinded from the flashes, but not quite, she was still able to see the star studded attendees.
“Isn’t that Dirk Nowitzki?” she whispered to her husband.
“Yep,” he answered before posing for the camera. They scooted a few steps.
Simone frowned. “Oh, look, there’s Kobe,” she said, immediately dismissing him. She wasn’t impressed.
J.T. pasted on a fake smile. “Be nice, he’s cool.”
“Yeah, as a snake,” she muttered.
Suddenly, she tugged at her husband’s sleeve. “Look, there’s Michael Vick. Can we say hi when we’re done?”
J.T. wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. He kissed her on the ear, then whispered, “So that’s who you like? Just remember that he’s my competition. He’s up for an ESPY too.”
“Okay, but I still want my autograph.”
“I’ll make sure you get one.”
Simone gasped and her eyes went wide.
“What’s wrong?” Simone was silent and gazed off into the distance, J.T. followed her gaze. He grinned, it was Serena and Venus Williams. “They do have that effect on people.”
“They are so gorgeous. And they look so powerful yet graceful. I want their autographs.”
J.T. propelled his wife towards the theatre and their seats. “I’ll make sure you get all the autographs you want. There’s a lot of parties afterwards.”
Moments later Marcella joined them. At forty-five she looked ten years younger than she actually was and Simone knew why. J.T. had confided in her that a couple of years ago Marcella had some work done on her face, had the girls lifted, a tummy tuck and a butt lift. But she told everyone that her body was the result of a strict diet and Pilates. She barely acknowledged Simone before she settled down in the seat next to J.T.
“Hey, there’s Coach Brown. Let me get him, so that I can introduce you to him. I’ll be right back.” Soon after J.T. raced off, Marcella took his abandoned seat and Simone groaned. Fortunately the din from all the activity drowned it out.
Marcella leaned closer, positioning her mouth next to Simone’s ear. “You surprised me today,” she said bluntly.
Simone looked startled. “Why? I did everything that you told me to do and exactly the way you wanted me to.”
“You did. I thought you were going to fuck it all up,” she said meanly.
“Bitch!”
Marcella winked at her before returning to her seat.
Simone was still on celebrity watch when a photographer stepped in front of her and began snapping her picture. She tried to look around him. “Do you mind? I can’t see anything!”
“Nothing is happening,” he snapped and continued taking pictures.
“Why are you taking pictures of me? My husband will be back in a minute, he’ll be glad to let you take pictures of him.”
“I don’t want pictures of him, if I did. I’d take them. I want pictures of you,” he said unreasonably and continued to take her picture. Marcella watched them with amusement and didn’t budge to intervene.
Simone covered her face with her hands, then she fanned her fingers. “Well you’re not taking any more,” she said, between her fingers.
Simone still had her hands over her face when J.T. returned with his coach in tow. He almost stumbled, then froze when he saw the photographer.
“Christian?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Working,” he said as though it was natural for him to fly across the country and show up unannounced at an awards ceremony where his lover might get an award.
Simone removed her hands from her face and looked at her husband. “You know him? He was so rude. He keeps taking pictures of me and won’t stop.”
“He’ll stop now,” he said firmly, he glared at Christian. He smirked before walking off.
An indescribable expression was on J.T.’s face when he watched Christian walk away.
“I want to introduce you to Coach Brown,” J.T. said.
“It’s so nice to meet you. J.T. surprised us all when we heard about his wedding. We didn’t even get a chance to give him a bachelor party.” He nodded to Marcella who flicked her gaze over him. J.T. told her that they had a brief fling a few years ago and it didn’t end nice.
Simone smiled. “It was a whirlwind romance,” she parroted.
“Good to hear,” Coach Brown said absent-mindedly, mentally he had left the conversation and was moving on to the next person he wanted to talk to. “Hey, there’s Barry Nevis, I need to talk to him.” He hurried off, burrowing his way into the crowd.
“Hey, I’ll be right back. I see someone else I need to talk to.”
J.T. pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring the people who tried to stop him and offer their best wishes. When he couldn’t find Christian, he texted him, they made arrangements to meet at J.T.’s hotel room.
Last month he had relocated Christian to Atlanta. Fortunately, Christian’s job allowed him the freedom of living wherever he wanted and when J.T. offered him the opportunity to live near him, he jumped on it. He got him an apartment in Buckhead, which Christian loved. He was close to fabulous shopping, awesome restaurants and bars. When he wasn’t at football practice he was with Christian.
J.T. stalked down the corridor to his hotel room, his body rigid with anger. Christian could’ve blown his cover tonight. “And I’m not about to let that happen,” J.T. muttered angrily to himself. Christian was waiting outside hi
s door.
J.T.’s hands were shaking when he slid his keycard in and pushed open the door. Christian hurried in after him. J.T. slammed the door.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed.
“I wanted to see my baby win his award,” Christian replied quietly.
“You could’ve asked me for tickets, or at the very least tell me that you were flying to L.A. to attend the awards show.”
“Then, I wouldn’t have been able to surprise you.” Christian kissed him on his mouth.
“Just don’t do it again,” J.T. said softening, his anger dissipating. “I don’t like surprises.”
“I’m sorry baby,” a contrite Christian responded. He ran his finger along the side of J.T.’s cheek. “You forgive me?”
“Of course I do.” After a brief kiss J.T. pulled away. “I need to go.”
“I don’t want you to,” Christian said seductively. He reached down and unbuckled J.T.’s pants.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but he didn’t make a move to stop him. And when his pants fell to the floor, he kept silent. Christian pulled down J.T.’s underwear and pushed him against the door. J.T. didn’t complain about the cold hard door against his ass, because he was focused on Christian’s mouth on his dick.
J.T. bent his knees and pushed Christian’s head down, forcing him to take him in deeper. J.T. looked down and saw Christian’s lips wrapped around his dick. “Aw shit, baby,” he murmured and closed his eyes and let himself get lost in feeling Christian’s mouth and his tongue on his shaft.
J.T.’s hips thrust up, hitting the back of Christian’s throat. Instead of gagging, Christian grabbed J.T.’s ass, urging him on. Christian abruptly stopped and J.T. cried out his frustration. That irritation quickly turned to ecstasy when Christian took his balls into his mouth.
J.T. inhaled sharply when Christian skimmed his tongue over his globes. And his knees nearly buckled when Christian gently sucked his balls. Just as J.T. was getting used to Christian’s mouth on his balls, Christian returned to his dick.