Hot Holiday Love

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Hot Holiday Love Page 8

by Germaine Solomon


  The idea of having Natalie in my life gave me newfound energy. I trotted upstairs, hurrying to the master suite to prepare for a special Christmas with the woman who had turned my world upside down in a good way. Just the other night I had rejected her belief in genuine, romantic love, but since then, she’d converted me without much effort. Now, I was a firm believer in the power of love. And I owed it all to Natalie. She had opened my eyes to a whole new world; one that I wanted to dwell in forever with her by my side.

  The phone rang just as I started taking off my clothes. I checked the caller ID and noticed Germany’s country code. One of my family members was reaching out to me with a holiday greeting.

  “Fröhliche Weihnachten!”

  “Merry Christmas to you too, sir.”

  “Selig, how are you, my friend?”

  “I am well, sir.”

  I sat down on the bed and removed my boots and socks and then hurled them in the nearest corner of the room. After a few quiet moments, I sensed that Selig’s early-morning Christmas call wasn’t a casual one. From his dry tone of voice and obvious apprehension, I was almost certain he’d called as a messenger of bad news. Maybe the league’s investigation had been completed and they’d reached a decision regarding my future in football. Perhaps, my career was over.

  “Damn it, Selig. Spill it already. You have some news for me, so just spit it out. I don’t have time to waste.”

  “I called you all day yesterday and several times this morning, sir. I sent you emails with links and attachments that contain very important information.”

  “Important information, eh? Regarding what?”

  “Ms. Natalie Taylor, sir. The private investigators you instructed me to hire have discovered quite a bit of interesting information about her.”

  “Such as?” I secured the phone between my shoulder and ear and stood to remove my jeans.

  “I’d prefer that you take the time to read the summary and sort through the links and attachments right away, sir. There are also videos and articles I think you need to see as well. That’s why I was so anxious to reach you. Now that we’ve spoken, I suggest you check your email.”

  “Thank you, Selig. I’ll get around to it later this evening after dinner with Natalie. I’m going to surprise her and grill— ”

  “No,” my longtime assistant snapped. “You mustn’t delay. This matter is pertinent and requires your immediate attention, sir.”

  “Fine. I’ll check it out after my shower. Go and enjoy Christmas day with your family. Kiss Tilda and the little ones for me, eh?”

  “Will do. Sir, I have one request.”

  “What is it, Selig?”

  “Please carry the satellite phone with you whenever you leave your cabin just in case I need to reach you, sir.”

  Damn, he’s so fucking anal. “Um, yeah, I’ll try to remember that, Selig. Anything else?”

  “That is all, sir. Good day and Merry Christmas to you.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  The urgency in Selig’s voice and his pushiness had piqued my curiosity, so I decided to delay my shower. I hurried downstairs to my office, wearing only my boxers, and sat behind my desk. I powered on the computer, which I hadn’t even touched since I’d arrived a week ago. Usually, I stayed clear of technology and the outside world whenever I visited Blue Ridge, but Selig’s insistence that I check my email right away had forced me to break my own rule. I was anxious to learn what kind of stuff the investigators had uncovered about Natalie although it didn’t matter at this point. She could be a former prostitute or an ex-con. It wouldn’t make a difference because I was already in love with her. And it was that authentic type of love that she’d been searching for and had written about in the song she’d sung for me last night as my Christmas gift. I was Natalie’s Mr. Love, and before nightfall, I would make her see that we belonged together.

  I logged on to the computer and went directly to my personal email account. There were several attachments and links pasted to the message Selig had sent. Hell, I didn’t even know where to begin. I took a deep breath and clicked on an Atlanta news station’s link dated December the twenty-third.

  I threw my head back and allowed the hot water from the rainfall shower head to pound my face. “Fuck !” I shouted and banged the side of my fist against the tiled shower wall.

  My life was ruined. Out of all the women on the fucking planet, how the hell had I fallen in love with the one who was larger than life? She wasn’t just a backup singer or a member of some faddish girl band or a freaking teeny bopper, one-hit wonder. Natalie was universal music royalty. Well, technically, she wasn’t the award-winning singer. Zyeshia was. Damn it, I didn’t know Zyeshia and I didn’t want to know her! I had met, made love to, and fallen in love with Natalie Taylor . She was my woman, not this Zyeshia chick. Nah, I hadn’t signed on to give my heart to some fantasy of a woman who men worshipped and dreamed about fucking every night. Oh, hell no! Natalie was mine and I refused to share her with anyone else. Fuck that!

  All the music videos, TV interviews, and online articles made Natalie seem unreal and untouchable; almost like an illusion or maybe even a character. I didn’t know that side of her and I didn’t want to meet her. My Natalie was perfect just the way she was. I loved her shyness and her tendency to be vulnerable. She pouted whenever she was angry and she actually knew how to cook. Superstar singing icons weren’t domestic, and they didn’t collect pine cones or carry their own luggage and hold conversations with random truck drivers in small-town restaurants.

  I turned off the water when it became cold while I stood under the spray trying to make sense of the insane predicament I was in. I stepped out of the shower and didn’t bother to get a towel to dry off. I padded into the bedroom, dripping wet, and collapsed on the bed on my back. Staring up at the ceiling, I recalled every bit of information I had learned about the woman I knew as Natalie Taylor and everyone else on the planet called Zyeshia. She was like the eighth wonder of the world…a fucking international treasure.

  How the hell did I not know this woman on sight? I had definitely heard Zyeshia’s music before. Hell, I listened to one of her songs in particular in the locker room before every fucking game. It was Bayern Munich’s official theme song for crying out loud. My teammates and I had stepped out on the field with the lyrics of “The Baller’s Creed” ringing in our ears for the past two years. We all knew the lyrics by heart. Zyeshia and Jamaican-born, reggae-rap star, Yohumba, were the voices on the platinum-selling hit. He spit the rhymes and her sexy voice sang the catchy hook. All this time, the love of my life had been motivating me on the field and I’d had no idea who she was. I knew her voice and her name, but I’d never felt the need to attach either to the woman. In my mind she was faceless.

  I guess I really was a fucking hermit after all. Selig had described me as such numerous times because I didn’t have any friends and I rarely socialized outside of my family and the world of football. On occasion, Selig, a couple of my teammates, and I would hit the city for dinner and drinks, but I didn’t do the nightclub or concert scenes. My music playlist consisted of heavy metal, hard rock, and reggae, which I only blasted while driving. As far as movies went, I only attended private premiers, but I always avoided the red carpet. My hectic schedule and weird sleeping pattern didn’t allow me much time to watch TV, and those rare moments when I did, football and basketball games were my preferences.

  I loved to travel, but hell, I even vacationed alone. And although my sex life was quite active, I had never entertained women on my estate. My condo in the city was the place where I invited women to come and spend a night of limited conversation and no-strings-attached sex. It was the way I had operated since I became a pro baller and I’d never found a reason to change.

  So, basically, my personal life was pathetic until four days ago. I knew the moment I first laid eyes on Natalie that something extraordinary was about to happen to me. I would never have guessed that I’d fall in love becaus
e I didn’t believe in that fairytale crap. But even as I’d told myself that, I felt Natalie’s magical feminine powers transforming me into something I’d sworn my entire adult life I would never be—a fool in love. And now, not only was I in deep, my heart was trapped in a very complicated situation that I wasn’t sure I could handle. I was into Natalie beyond a shadow of a doubt and I wanted her to be mine for the long haul. But Zyeshia , I could do without.

  I didn’t want the drama and headlines that came along with her lifestyle. According to the most recent articles and social media posts I’d read, a bad breakup with her rapper boyfriend was the reason why she had fled Atlanta for the mountains. No one was aware of her whereabouts, but everyone knew why she was laying low. Her ex, the miserable piece of shit, was flapping his gums to anyone who would listen, airing out personal details about their past relationship. He had labeled Natalie a workaholic who had placed him on the back burner for wealth and fame. I wanted to punch his fucking lights out for describing her in a radio interview as cold, emotionless, and incapable of satisfying his needs. What a fucking loser he was.

  Maybe the rapper clown had been in a relationship with Zyeshia, the singing and acting mega star. I, Hayden Ellis, was in love with Natalie Taylor , the lovely lady, and she damn well satisfied my needs. There was nothing cold or emotionless about her either. She had more heat and passion inside of her than any woman I had ever spent time with. My Natalie was a ball of feminine fire. I knew nothing about the Zyeshia that worthless punk had described.

  As crazy as it seemed to split her in half, it was the only rationalization I could come up with. Natalie, Hayden, Zyeshia, and Viper Drachenberg were all romantically intertwined somehow, and this madness needed to be sorted out in the worst fucking way. And because I wanted Natalie, I was willing to come clean about who I really was and everything my life entailed. I only hoped she cared enough about me to do the same.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Natalie

  There was something about a man who had mastered the techniques of eating pussy and laying that pipe to perfection that made a woman want to bow at his feet and hail him her king. I had to talk shit to my heart and tell it to slow the hell down as I walked toward the front door to let Hayden in. I wasn’t even mad that he had taken so long to shower and change his clothes that I’d had enough time to dress, eat breakfast, and start preparing lunch. I was just happy that he was back and we’d be spending Christmas together.

  I unlocked the door and opened it. Straight out the gate, my mind started stripping him butt-ass naked and reflecting on the way he’d made love to me last night. This man had a girl rethinking her whole life plan, trying to figure out how I was going to fit his sexy ass into it. My brain was running full throttle with all kinds of possibilities of a future with Hayden Ellis as my leading and only man.

  “Natalie, are you going to let me in, sweetheart?”

  “Oh, bae, I’m sorry.” I moved out of the way and allowed Hayden to enter the cabin before closing the door behind him and locking it.

  There was a big plastic food container in one of his hands and a brown paper bag in the other one. And I had no idea what that weird-looking gadget tucked under his left arm was.

  I smiled after he leaned down without a word and gifted my partially open lips with a soft but fiery kiss and walked away. The back view of Hayden’s body as he glided coolly to the kitchen was more erotic than porn. Dude filled out a pair of faded, loose-fitting jeans like no other man, dead or alive. And that smooth and confident gait of his could make any woman volunteer to be his love slave for life. But I had that job all wrapped up for now until January the second.

  My heart squeezed at the thought that my time with Hayden would soon come to an end. We hadn’t known each other very long and we were still sort of like strangers if you took away the trillion-dollar, make-me-holler sex we’d shared. But Hayden and I had already formed a strong connection combined with insanely explosive chemistry that could ignite and blow the Blue Ridge Mountains clean off the damn map if we weren’t careful. Something solid and powerful had developed between us, and I didn’t want to let it go. Not now. Not ever .

  Hayden made me laugh about the silliest things even though he got on my nerves sometimes for being rude, stubborn, and overly macho. Then there were those special moments when he made it his utmost priority to take care of me. But he also knew how to dial it back when I needed him to. He wasn’t too big of a stud to massage my scalp or decorate a Christmas tree just for me. And he wasn’t too much of a gentleman that he couldn’t fuck me savagely, deep, and long until I had to beg him for mercy. Hayden and I were from two different worlds and could be considered polar opposites. Yet we shared a common spirit and were twins when it came to passion, adventure, and living in the moment.

  How the hell was I supposed to leave Blue Ridge after experiencing so much magic with him and return back to the A as if we’d never met? The man had somehow managed to seep through my skin, infiltrate my blood, wrap himself around my heart, and set up residence in my soul. Hayden was like crack , and damn if I wasn’t his pathetic junkie. A girl was straight up feenin’ for more of him…lots more beyond our chance meeting up here on this mountain. My stomach was churning and twisting in knots, and I couldn’t even catch my breath because my heart was breaking over the idea of never seeing Hayden again.

  The sun wouldn’t shine as bright in my world if he wasn’t in it. And who was going to make me feel safe and comfortable with just a simple hug? I couldn’t imagine a day passing without feeling Hayden’s gentle touch or hearing his low and gravelly bark of a voice or inhaling his unique masculine scent that should be bottled and labeled as the ultimate feminine aphrodisiac. The delicious taste of his tongue and lips and the ecstasy his mouth had given the most sensitive parts of my body were pleasures that I wasn’t willing to live without. And if Hayden never made love to me again, I swear my heart would stop beating forever.

  When I’d confessed my feelings for my mountain boo to Ravie during our phone chat this morning, she diagnosed me with a bad case of lust and told me my emotional draw to Hayden was nothing but a typical rebound thing. But what the hell did she know? My cousin slash BFF had been joined at the hip with her hubby and my road manager, Chip, since they were twelve years old. Her heart had never been broken and she probably couldn’t even remember the moment she fell in love because it had happened so long ago.

  Anyway, Ravie was wrong about me being on the rebound because I hadn’t given Tobias one second of brain time since Hayden and I had started our affair. And I wasn’t using my hot hideaway fling to help me forget about my breakup at all. In my head, Tobias was already dead with rigor mortis and burning in hell while I was still alive, well, and happily exploring something new with someone new. And it wasn’t all about sex either.

  The real deal was my heart was more in tuned with the way Hayden treated me outside the bedroom more so than the physical craving my body had for what he did to me under the sheets. Plainly put, he was an expert at making love to my mind as well as my body. And that was a rare blessing according to many magazine articles and blog posts I’d read over the years. Plus my personal stylist, Zephina, and a bunch of other women I knew constantly complained about bad sex and the lack of romance in their relationships. And they were tired of broke dudes with zero goals too. Sistahs wanted the total package . How come we couldn’t have a bedroom freak, the perfect gentleman, a generous provider, and a savage to protect us when necessary all rolled up into one man?

  Hayden is that and a bowl of grits!

  I wanted to believe what my gut was telling me, but I had no way to be sure. One point that Ravie had made this morning that I did agree with was the fact that Hayden could be another has-been, busted loser like Tobias. He had admitted to me that he was in between jobs, yet he was pushing a one-hundred-sixty-thousand-dollar whip. Tobias used to operate like that too until the repossessions, lawsuits, and his eviction totally wiped him out. That’s when h
e moved in with me and I became his sugar mama. I shook my head at how stupid I was for taking care of his trifling ass for so long.

  Natalie Zyeshia Taylor wasn’t about to sponsor another man. I didn’t give a damn how handsome and sexy he was or how skillfully he could dick me down. And, oooh , my pussy was a witness to how good Hayden could put it down with that big ole pretty, fat dick covered with all those veins that pumped warm blood to all ten inches, including that thick mushroom head and…

  “Natalie ?” Hayden snapped his fingers in front of my face.

  I pressed both palms to my chest. “Ah! You scared the shit out of me!”

  “I’m sorry, babe, but I called you three times from the kitchen and you didn’t answer me.” He snaked an arm around my waist and cocked his head to the side, giving me a sexy half smile. “You look a bit worked up. What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

  “Nothing,” I lied with a straight face, fingering my pendant on my chest.

  Hayden nodded and laughed out loud. I was so embarrassed because I had a feeling that he knew he’d caught me with a head full of nasty thoughts about him . But I couldn’t help it, though. Hayden brought out the shameless slut in me. Just one touch and a flash of those seductive eyes caused me to forget every sermon I’d ever heard my pastor preach against lust of the flesh and fornication. Sometimes, I had to hold on to my panties to keep them from dropping to my ankles when Hayden looked at me in a certain type of way.

 

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