We pulled into our hotel and it was luxurious. The property was massive so I made it a point to take mental notes of landmarks as we walked through the main floor.
Kari toted most of the heavy bags and went to check us in while I waited in the fancy lounge area, which looked like some rich Fifth Avenue grandmother’s living room. When he came over with the room keys, we took one of eight elevators up to the twenty-second floor. Since he insisted on taking care of all the details, I simply followed and let my man lead the way. We kept walking and walking and walking down an extended art deco hallway with minimal light until we finally reached the absolute end. Kari slid his keycard into the door and pushed open one half of a double door, which led to a massive suite fit for a queen. My eyes lit up with surprise.
“Kari, this room is amazing!” There was a panoramic view of the Atlantic City Boardwalk. We still had a bit of daylight on our side so you could see for what felt like miles and take in the beauty of the view.
“I wanted your first visit here to be special,” Kari said.
Where did this man come from?
“Well, you definitely succeeded in a major way. Thanks, babe.” I grabbed Kari tightly and kissed him in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Damn, I love how you show me your appreciation,” Kari said with a grin.
“Are you trying to make me blush?”
“No, trying to make you love me.”
If I were talented enough to make one eyebrow rise, it would have totally been a moment to do it. His comment came out of nowhere.
As the words left Kari’s mouth and entered the universe, I managed to keep smiling as I had been before, but inside I was screaming with fear and anxiety. Love, I thought to myself. I’m not sure what type of reaction Kari expected, but I didn’t quite know how to react. I went in for another kiss. It seemed as though that would be the safest route.
“Do you want me to make you a drink?” I asked. I sure could use one.
“Sure, babe,” Kari said as he smiled, flashing his pearly whites.
The evening set in and we sipped cocktails while giving each other sensuous head-to-toe massages with Lothantique massage oil. After we were oily and relaxed, we headed to the shower. It was a massive space with dual showerheads, a light-colored marble finish throughout, and a handy little shower bench designed for fun, I assumed.
Luckily, I packed a little get sexy kit so my candles created the perfect sexy time ambiance. Once we entered the shower, I could see that Kari’s penis was saying, “Hello, I’m here. Please don’t neglect me.” It was hard and huge.
I picked up a washcloth to lather his body. I slowly began to massage and cleanse his chiseled frame of the oil. The water was steaming hot. Pulsating showerheads drenched our bodies from both angles relaxing every inch. I was so caught up in my moment of bliss that I forgot to put a shower cap on. Thankfully, I’d learned to maintain and style my short pixie cut. My hair was fine and wavy, so a little product and I would be set.
I continued to wash Kari thoroughly before finally making my way down to his penis, which had been poking me and begging for my attention the entire time. I massaged his manhood with my soapy towel sliding it back and forth, creating a sensation of a wet kitty cat. Kari loved it. He started moaning and groaning and biting me in between kisses.
I knew that Kari didn’t want to cum yet, so he spun me around and sat me on the shower bench. He slid down on his knees and put his face in between my legs. This man knew his way around my sweet spot. He licked and suckled like it was his last big bet and all of his chips were on the table. He instructed me to slide to the edge of the bench and pull both of my legs up on the bench. My va-jay-jay was now facing him front and center for better access. Kari was a true pleaser in the way that he never talked about wanting to please me sexually—he just did it.
Mere moments after repositioning my body for prime access, the twisting, licking, and swirling of his tongue coerced my body into reaching an epic climax. I started to squeeze Kari tighter with my thighs and my legs suddenly got weak and began to give out on me. I threw my legs over his shoulders for extra support, but when my entire body started to shake from the climactic onset and soft soothing of his tongue, I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed Kari’s head and pulled him up. He looked a little puzzled.
“I want you right now,” I demanded in a lustful, Girl 6 voice.
“You will always get what you want, love.” Even that last word could not throw me off-center in the moment. I needed to feel him inside me.
Kari immediately scooped me up and we exited the shower. Our steamy bodies rubbed along each other. He carried me soaking wet to the next room. We fell onto the bed in one swift motion. I wanted him badly. My body was aching. I still hadn’t completely stopped shaking.
When he entered my sweet spot, it was drenched and more than ready to welcome him. Kari and I were so in sync that we could predict what the other wanted next. We made crazy, freak-nasty love from the back, flipped upside down, and my favorite, with me on top. I liked being on top because it allowed me to reach a mind-blowing orgasm. I also enjoyed the control and Kari didn’t feel any type of way about it because I made him feel ecstasy in the end.
I straddled him while we were both sitting up facing each other and I improvised with a move that was intense. I could feel his heart beating fast against my chest as we grinded and thrust, holding each other as tightly as possible with a combination of sweat and water now dripping from us. We were one big ball of lust.
“Lay back,” I instructed Kari and he did just that. As he lay back I began my show.
I rolled my hips and popped my pussy on him like a true porn star in training.
Kari grabbed my ass tight and squeezed it with a look of pleasure just before he was about to explode. I liked to please him as much as he liked to please me. He let out a loud sequence of moans and like that, I put him to sleep.
• • •
The getaway was just what I needed. It allowed me a chance to clear my mind and get my body tuned up—a perfect combination for starting fresh. I spent the night before my first day of work getting mentally and physically prepared. I watched SportsCenter, read every newsworthy, sports-related article in addition to picking out a black, above-the-knee dress with three-quarter-length sleeves and a black blazer to finish off my typical publicist uniform.
I walked into the high-rise, midtown office building for what was now the third time, but this day was different. This girl was now an employee of The League.
After reporting to Joel, I struggled through the boring, new-hire orientation and fought every urge to doze off. At the end of an uneventful day, I was shown to my desk and given all of my essentials by IT, which included a laptop and a BlackBerry.
I was all set up and settled in when I realized that it was six o’clock. There wasn’t anything pressing to do, so I decided to call it a day.
When I got home, Dev wanted to know every detail. I’m guessing that she expected it to be a bit more glamorous than it really was.
“So how was it? Who did you meet today?” she asked enthusiastically.
“My coworkers,” I said with a chuckle.
“Okay, smart ass. But that consisted of some players, right?”
“Oh yeah, I intentionally left out the part where I met the New York Talons’ entire team in the lobby on my way to lunch.”
“Dang! You did? How exciting!”
“No silly!” I said. “That would probably never happen. First off, the teams are spread out all over the U.S. and it’s not like they have to come to The League office to check in on a regular basis. The athletes’ schedules are hectic and they probably only drop by our offices when it is absolutely necessary.”
I did my best to explain to Dev my role and how the PR world works in general. The misconception in entertainment PR is that you simply rub elbows with celebrities and so-called “important” people. Reality check, you write press releases so you better be g
ood with putting words together. You mastermind detailed PR plans that people rarely ever use or refer to. You cold call media that generally act like you are bothering them—but they don’t hesitate to act friendly when they need you. Lastly, you kiss ass and play nice with the media people who you actually know and want to continue a relationship with. That pretty much sums it up. There are times that you interact with high-profile people, but it is by far not what most publicists do every day.
My first week at The League was a breeze. The work hadn’t started piling up yet. One day, while in the restroom, I ran into a young lady with legs for miles and at least four-inch heels on. If I had to guess, she had been a model at some point in life. Her icy-blue eyes looked as though they could put you in a trance that you wouldn’t wake from.
I was at the sink washing my hands alongside the woman I came to know as Lydia when she unexpectedly said, “Hi, you must be the new girl that I heard about.”
“Hi,” I said with a slight smirk. “I guess so. I’m Scottie. Nice to meet you.”
Lydia was not in my department, but our groups worked closely together. I quickly came to know her as an intelligent hard worker from Baltimore who did not take crap from anyone. Eventually, she gave me the background scoop on everyone that worked on our floor. Forming my own opinions based off of my personal interactions with people was cool, but I would not deny potentially insightful information. According to Lydia, a woman named Britney was one to keep an eye on. She was venomous. I hoped that overall, The League employees would not be anything like the treacherous people at my old PR agency.
The head of The League’s publicity department was a plump brunette with masculine features and a leftover 1980s hairstyle. Her slick commentary and taskmaster style made it evident that she was a Ms. Know-It-All. Her name was Gail Dean, but people rarely used her first name; they called her Dean. Pretty fitting if you asked me.
My manager, Joel, was easygoing and helpful in the process of getting acclimated. He gave me guidance but left me to my own devices to get my work done. It was my responsibility to learn all that I could about our athletes’ lives and who they were as men outside of the game. I was charged with making them seem appealing as well as saleable to mainstream media. The League’s special events also fell under my list of responsibilities. I loved the rush of executing a red carpet on event day. There was a sense of accomplishment.
As the weeks went on, the workload increased and I found out that my first event would be the Athlete’s Annual. Festivities surrounding the event attracted thousands of fans from around the world. In college, my friends and I would take special trips to the Athlete’s Annual so I was familiar with the event from a fan’s perspective. However, working an event of that magnitude could prove to be an interesting challenge.
The two months leading up to the Athlete’s Annual were hectic as hell, to say the least. The League’s style was to learn as you go. Since everything was new for me, there was a huge learning curve and catching on quickly was imperative. I learned instantly that people would only forcibly communicate with those who were outside of their department. If you did not know the right questions to ask in order to obtain the information that you needed, then you would come up short.
Gathering information was like a search-and-rescue mission. Everyone had a very specific job function and you had to go through multiple individuals to get what you needed to complete a task. Some people had been there so long that they seemed to be very sensitive about their role, so you had to make sure not to offend or piss anyone off while trying to do your job.
I found myself working late hours to feel like I was caught up each day, only to turn around and do it again the next day. But I liked the feeling of working toward a specific point of execution.
During the Athlete’s Annual, the main events that I was responsible for from a media perspective were the Entertainer’s Game and the red carpet, just prior to the main event. Interacting heavily with the events department and the talent department were crucial pieces to the puzzle.
For the Entertainer’s Game, I had to find out everything: how many media persons could fit in the venue, what my credential process would need to be, who would be playing in the game, and if the celebrity talent would be willing to do media interviews to promote their participation in the game. The events group held all of the answers and sometimes it could be like waving ice cream in front of a dieting woman to get what you needed.
The red carpet was slightly unpredictable in terms of talent, so I simply had to make sure that we had media on hand to get interviews and shots of whoever decided to stroll down the carpet prior to the game. The origin of my stress was largely due to the fact that this would be my first weekend full of events and I wanted everything to go smoothly.
Kari was starting to witness the immense pressure that I was under as our late-night conversations in bed were dominated by work talk.
“Babe, can you please stop flicking back and forth?” Kari asked. “Leave it on SportsCenter. You’re driving me crazy.”
“You know I always watch my CNN. Don’t act brand-new,” I said. “But this sports world is not a game. I have to make sure that I know who’s doing well. I can’t be in the dark when it comes to the Athlete’s Annual and who will make the team.”
Kari shook his head.
He did his best to be supportive. Kari would hold me in his arms and stroke my back trying his best to make me destress and release some of the anxiety. On occasion, he would offer advice and reassure me that he believed in my rock-star capabilities. Sometimes his words of encouragement were like music to my ears.
“You should take some time out to relax, Scottie.”
“I’m trying to prove myself still. I don’t feel like I have that luxury yet.”
“I’m not suggesting anything extreme. I thought that it would be good to grab dinner with friends. Maybe tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, baby, you’re right. Seems like an excellent idea. I haven’t been very social lately.”
The next night, we linked up with some friends and went to a low-key spot in Hell’s Kitchen called Ta Cocina. Their two-for-one margaritas made it one of my favorite restaurants. The drinks were flowing and everyone was chatting and enjoying good company. Most of the group was Kari’s peeps. They had become my friends by default.
“I want to make a toast,” Kari said spontaneously. “Everyone raise their glass with me. I would like to congratulate Scottie on her new gig at The League. She’s doing big things. I’m so proud of her and her accomplishments! To Scottie!”
Kari leaned in to kiss my glossy, frosted, pink lips.
“You guys are too sweet,” I said. “Thanks, everyone, for being so supportive.”
My unemployment status had been no secret to the crew. They all knew my struggle and they were genuinely happy for me. That is, except for Kari’s smart-ass best friend, Kelvin. He always irked the hell out of me. But he was Kari’s boy, so there wasn’t much that I could say.
“So how long before you leave ma’ boy for one of them millionaire ballers?” Kelvin blurted out with conviction.
What the fuck kind of question is that, you asshole?!
Eyes shot up, glasses dropped on the table and suddenly a lively dinner table fell silent. Everyone looked a little stunned. Kari fixed his lips to speak up on my behalf, but I raised my hand to his chest. “I got this.”
“Probably about the same damn time that you scrape enough pennies together to move out of yo’ momma’s house. Ooops! That would mean never,” I spat. “By the way, jealousy does not look good on you, Kelvin.”
Kelvin and Kari had been friends since elementary school and they were inseparable growing up, like Kid ‘n Play, complete with similar names. From what I could see, as they grew older, Kelvin wasn’t always a very good friend to Kari. In most instances, he would have something negative to say. People like that could be toxic. It’s usually a good indicator that they are not happy with things in their own l
ife or they are harboring jealous feelings. I tried to mention Kelvin’s behavior to Kari once, but he made up an excuse for Kelvin. From that point on, I left it alone.
After that awkward moment, everyone tried to go on like normal. I was still seething with disdain for Kelvin, but I did not let him ruin the remainder of my dinner. Eventually, we wrapped up at Ta Cocina and everyone said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Kari and I headed back to his apartment. I would rarely stay over since he lived so deep in Brooklyn, but on weekends, it worked out fine. We rode in silence until I decided to speak my piece.
“That was a disrespectful thing to say,” I commented. “One day somebody is going to smack the shit out of ya boy.”
“Scottie, stop it. He was playing.”
“Playing! That’s your idea of playing?” I fired back. I was starting to get pissed all over again. “You know, you always take up for him. But that was straight-up wrong, it wasn’t a joke, it damn sure wasn’t funny, and it was flat-out rude.”
“Why are you getting so upset? You’re kind of acting like he exposed your secret or something.”
He raised his voice slightly with that comment and I didn’t like his tone nor did I like where the conversation was going. That comment came out of nowhere. I was getting livid. Did he have some hidden feelings that he wasn’t telling me about? Had he and Kelvin already discussed this?
“Well, what the fuck? I mean…did you put him up to it? Was that good cop-bad cop routine where you let him ask me all the fucked-up questions and you sit back and wait for the answers?”
“Of course not! Scottie, don’t be ridiculous. If I have something to say, I’ll say it my damn self.” Kari rubbed his goatee.
“You know what? Whatever. I’m done. Talking to you is pointless right now,” I said.
“Seriously, that’s how you’re gonna act?”
“Pretty much,” I said as I rolled my eyes and turned my head to look out at the brownstones passing through my line of sight.
I had nothing more to say to Kari. He was being an insensitive jerk and I wasn’t going to sit there and try to reason with stupidity.
Preseason Love Page 11