by Xyla Turner
“Wait, wait.” He waved his hand in the air. “This is no conflict for me. I want an exclusive relationship with you and you alone. I want to take you out, show you off, make you come and kiss those beautiful lips in public. Fuck these people. I don’t dance to their drum. Never will.”
I nodded at his admission. The man had no fucks to give, and he grew to the point he had enough money to throw away fucks. I, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. I would be fired, shit, he just fired a coach.
“Zora, you gave me a chance, now give me a real one. One that can last?” He seemed to be asking.
This was different. Not demanding or commanding, but putting the ball in my court.
“What do we look like in your mind?” I asked as I sat down on the seat, showing I would not run.
Harvey sauntered over to me and moved a curly lock of hair out of my face.
“This looks like you and me on the red carpet next Saturday. Your hand in mine and me restraining myself not to kiss those luscious lips in order to claim you in front of the world. It looks like us going out together, painting the town red, and enjoying ourselves. It looks like you and me, getting to know each other inside and out. It looks like we’re falling for the other with no safety net. Just like, sitting across the counter talking about what our life will be.”
Harvey’s gaze was intense, his words so poignant, and my heart was so full.
Chapter 8
Harvey
Early Sunday afternoon I left Zora’s place to get back to work. Everything was still whirling around but one thing was secure. Zora McCoy was mine, and it wasn’t just because I said it. It would be because she wanted to be mine too. If somebody would have told me I’d be in this place right now in life, I would have never believed them.
Coming up through the ranks, I fucked and kept it moving. As a basketball player, pussy was always easy. As a coach, it was easier and then moving in as an owner, well— sometimes there were too many participants to count. Some liked to call me a playboy, but I just fucked hard and some women like that. I had a few steady female companions who were discreet and good at what they did, but I hadn’t called on them in a while.
The fact remained, Zora had pulled me in that day she was at Pete’s party, and it baffled my mind. She wasn’t in a skin-tight dress with cleavage hanging out. The fucking woman had on a black pants suit, like she does every goddamn day. She was an enigma and the only reason I knew she wasn’t gay, despite the perception, was because it was clear I got to her. My presence, or just the intensity of what I wanted, which was her, affected her to the point I knew it made her uncomfortable. It made those panties wet. A strong sexual attraction that made no fucking sense.
Zora was sexy as hell but no man could tell in those suits. I am sure she used her clothing and that scowl on her face as a man repellant. Those were the layers I wanted to peel back in her. Break all that shit down and get to what I knew was treasure. Her care for me on one of the worst days of the year. My first shit storm and I was able to relax and just be with her. Then last night, the woman let me have my naughty way. Told me to take what I needed.
God, I was never letting her go.
As the day closed, I had a head coach and two assistant coaches that came with the head coach for the Lady Warriors. Joyce Rimmer, The Assistant Head Coach (AHC) for the Lady Falcons, accepted the Head Coaching job for the Warriors. She had a lucrative career as the AHC for five years and another seven years as the head coach for a Division One University in Kentucky. The woman knew the sport, was known for her team approach and a perfect candidate for this job at this point. We knew it would be rocky but now it was settled.
There was still the matter of the law suit, but I hired good lawyers to take care of that. Stakeholders were not happy with the fast transition, the suit or how Prentice’s coaches were handled. I stood my ground with that one and explained how detrimental to a team, having disgruntled people leading the culture would impact the team. I’ve been a part of that as a player and a coach. It was not pretty for all parties involved.
The week went by quickly as the fanfare died down around Prentice and her law suit. The premiere for the sports movie, featuring one of our players was playing on Saturday. It was a black tie, red carpet affair and Zora said she was coming with me. One part of me thought she might renege but the other part of me, was sure she’d show up in a pants suit.
Honestly, I couldn’t have given a fuck. If she wore the suit, it’d say fuck you to them all. If she wore something else, now that was speaking to me. Either way, I’d take her.
We were both running late to meet up at my place, but my driver dropped her off, so we could get the limousine. My mouth dropped open as I watched those slender legs get out of the car.
Zora emerged with a long black chiffon dress that landed down to her ankles and a slit all the way to the bottom of her ass cheeks. The top dipped low, showing the inside of her round breast and a sheer fabric covered her exposed stomach.
Holy shit.
The woman was literally breathtaking, for minutes I did not inhale or exhale. I simply stood there as she sauntered over to me on those stilt like shoes, like she wore them every day instead of those roach stomping, square or wedged heeled boots.
“Evening,” Zora greeted me with a smile.
She wore makeup, with maroon lipstick to match the highlights in her hair. Her eyes were more pronounced but that could have been the long lashes. The dangling earrings blended with the long tendrils of hair on the sides of her face. Everything about her worked but even without all of that, it worked anyway.
“Evening,” she called to me again, which jolted me out of my haze.
“You’re beautiful.” My voice was low as if it was a secret. “Breathtakingly beautiful.”
“Thanks,” Zora smiled at me brightly.
Moving toward Zora, I laced my fingers with hers and pulled her body into mine.
“You did this for me?” I asked.
At first, Zora looked like she wanted to deny it but then she fearlessly looked me in the eye and said, “Yes.”
“So, you know, I’d take you anyway I can get you but this.” I scanned the length of her body, “This speaks volumes.”
Clearly uncomfortable with my words, Zora cleared her throat and asked, “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” I squeezed her hand lightly. “Let’s go.”
We rode to the venue in a comfortable silence. Zora’s hand lay in mine as we sat side by side. When it was time for us to get out, the moment of reveal, and probably the reason both of us were silent, I hopped out of the car and went to round the limo to let her out. The red carpet was out, camera lights flashing, and the security was on the ready.
“Harvey, Harvey.” A few reporters called, but my focus was on the goddess about to step outside of the limo.
Zora put one long leg astride the limo, grabbed my hand and let me lead her out. Once she was upright, instead of her eyes being caught up in the craziness of flashing lights, people yelling or the roar of the vultures, she focused on me.
“Ready?” she whispered, which caused me to smile.
“Ready, sweetheart.” Without a thought, I pecked her temple with my lips.
The gasps, yelling and cameras went wild, but I gracefully led us through the mob and stopped twice for a few words with the shows or magazines I’d previously said I’d speak with. On the agenda was one interview for the exclusive women’s sports magazine.
When we reached them, Jason, the reporter yelled, “I knew you didn’t forget about me.”
“No, sir. I did not.” I smiled and stepped out of the way of the other guests coming down the red carpet and moved closer to the burgundy ropes.
“Great.” He signaled his cameraman and said, “The great Harvey Black is here with yours truly for Women in Sports for an exclusive. Accompanying him is the none other than the stunning Lady Vikings Head Coach, Zora McCoy. So, can you comment on you two?”
He placed the
microphone in front of me and I pulled Zora closer to me. “Let’s put it this way. We’re new but it’s deeper than anything I’ve ever had.”
Jason’s eyes grew big and Zora’s body grew tight.
“Well, okay then. That was crystal clear. Hands off.” Jason laughed. “Coach McCoy, what do you think about what happened with your colleague Coach Prentice?”
Shit.
Jason moved the microphone in front of Zora and this time, my body was the one that grew tight.
She nodded and said, “Unfortunately, I’m saddened by the whole ordeal. It highlights women’s sports in a negative light when there are so many other ways we should be viewed. We’re doing amazing things and for disputes to be plastered in the media does not make me feel good as a coach or as a member of this women’s basketball entity.”
“What about the firing of the other coaches? Your thoughts,” he asked and I swear, I could have punched the man right in his face.
“That was unfortunate as well but if you know anything about sports, it was the best call. Team chemistry is more important than most organizations. Think of the Iverson debacle with Coach Larry Brown. Shaq and Coach Van Gundy, Latrell Sprewell and Coach Carlesimo. These things matter, but it is unfortunate. They are all quality coaches and I know they’ll land on their feet.”
She smiled sweetly, and all I wanted to do was take her to the closest room and bury myself in her hot heat. She was a fucking dream come true. Right there, standing strong and supporting me— like fuck you world. I got his damn back.
Shit, we never even discussed it but I knew where she stood. I knew, that night when she gave me her.
I fucking knew.
“So, Harvey, what’s next for the Warriors?” Jason asked without skipping a beat.
“Rebuild, reconstruct and reestablish what we’ve started to build,” I answered. “It’s going to be hard work but the Lady Warriors are up for the challenge. I never doubt their abilities and with the new leadership, it’s a guarantee.” I nodded to signal, we were done answering questions.
“Thank you so much for taking the time to hear it from you first. You heard it folks, straight from the horse’s mouth,” Jason announced in the camera, then motioned for the cameraman to stop rolling.
Once he put the camera down and went back to his corner, I said to Jason, “I should beat your fucking ass.”
He laughed, but I wasn’t playing.
“Man, calm down. That is fucking gold. You just got endorsed from a fellow coach and the shit was legit. Plus, man. McCoy in a dress.” He kissed his closed fingertips and let them pop open before he said, “Gold!”
“McCoy is standing right here.” Zora was glaring at him.
“Coach, you got to know, I meant no harm. If this man couldn’t break me in half, I’d make my own play with you looking like this tonight. Fucking leave my wife. Right fucking now,” Jason said in what he better hope was a joke.
“Man, fuck you.” I laughed and moved us away.
“Swear to God,” he yelled. “I’ll call her now.”
Even Zora laughed as we made our way to the main theatre. Once we were seated, we settled into our comfortable chairs with fingers laced the entire time. A few people came up to congratulate me and us because word travels fast. Or, they could have seen me holding on to her like my life depended on it.
The whole team was there, along with the new coaches. I made sure to visit with them, speak and even push through some glares from the players. I knew people would be salty and not understand my point of view but that also wasn’t their job.
After the viewing, we made our way to the front, posed for several pictures and left. On the way home, I settled for more silence by nipping on Zora’s ear, admiring the bite and indentations of my mark on her neck. Like a damn animal, I licked and nibbles on her more.
Her soft moans and squirming against me, only caused the fire in me to burn brighter. My instinct was to mark her again, claim her as my own and keep her to myself. That wasn’t real life. She had a life and career. I had my own shit I was doing. We couldn’t run away and hide from the world, but God knows I wanted to try.
“That was absolutely wonderful,” Zora said as she removed her shawl from around her shoulders. “Such a great opportunity for women in sports.”
“Yeah, the team was excited when they first proposed the opportunity,” I answered while staring at her move around my living room.
She floated through the room like she had done it for years. Removing her shoes, taking off her earrings, and sitting down waiting for me to join her on the couch.
“What’s wrong?” Zora asked as she turned her head to peek at me over her shoulder, watching me stand at the door staring at her.
“Nothing, just wondering what I’ve done in this life to be graced with you?” I answered. “Wondering what I need to do to keep you happy and praying to God, you stay.”
Fuck, I didn’t mean to say all of that to her. She turned her head again and those wild curls covered her expression, making me slightly anxious. Finally moving toward her, I sat down and lifted her chin so I could see her face.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“Nothing much.” she gave me a large smile. “Just hoping you’re real.”
“Oh, I’m real. This is real.” I confirmed. “Very real.”
Zora’s jerked her head toward the television, then she said, “Sports?”
“Sure,” I answered her, sensing she wasn’t ready for that conversation. “Sports it is.”
We didn’t make it through one hour of the highlights before Zora was leaning on my shoulder with her feet tucked under her thighs and the steady breath of a sleeping beauty. I carried her to bed, stripped off her clothes and climbed in. It didn’t take long to find sleep but once I did, I dreamed of a future with the sleeping one beside me.
***
The next day, Zora has practice. I had to let her go but what I had not anticipated was the backlash of our union. Not from the media but from the organization and one Pete Wiser.
Chapter 9
Zora
“You. Owe. Me. Some. Fucking. Details.” Justine walked into my office with the whisper and yell at the same time.
Hell, I knew this would be a thing. Blown way out of proportion because nobody knew anything about my relationships. Mainly because I had none. However, even if I did, that meant, they definitely wouldn’t know. Except now.
“Girl, I thought you were in the closet. Maybe even bi. Wait, you are bi right? If you are, Lauren owes me fifty bucks.” Justine carries on as if she wasn’t actually asking me questions.
“Justine,” I say.
“Yeah, girl? I’m just saying, you and freaking Harvey? That’s the jackpot. He’s hot and has that WWF wrestler look to him. Straight pound a bitch.” She laughed at her own analogy. “I totally see that, except he’s demanding. You know those alpha types. You an alpha yourself. How y’all work that shit out?”
Yeah, the woman was asking questions for the sake of asking. She did not want a real answer. So, I sat back and let her keep talking.
“So, at the bar that day. Y’all weren’t together like that were you? Wait, did it start then?” She continued to ask. “Hell, it don’t even matter. I’m just glad you’re getting some. I knew it was something. You’re all sweet and shit.”
I held out my arm, pointing my finger to the door, “Out!” I yelled. “Get out.”
Justine burst out laughing and said, “Don’t act like a bitch now. The cat’s out the bag. On the fucking red carpet and in a goddamn, gorgeous ass dress. Swear if me and Lauren weren’t thinking about marriage, honey you were hot enough to eat last night.”
My hand came to my forehead as I shook it with the craziness of the comments.
“Justine,” I said in an exasperated tone.
“Aight, Girl. I’ll leave you be but believe me this isn’t over.” She finished as she left.
That woman was crazy as hell, but always ha
d my back and knew the game. Sasha was sure to come next, and I knew the ladies would start with their commentary when practice started. What I didn’t know or expect was the owner, barging into my office.
“What were you thinking,” Pete hissed as he slammed the door shortly after Justine left.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“What. Were. You thinking?” He was standing over top of my desk, glaring at me. “Fucking Harvey Black. The man’s a whore at best and at worse, he’ll be done with you before the season has officially started. Hopefully by then, you won’t have given him all of our trade secrets during pillow talk.”
What in the actual fuck?
“Excuse me,” I asked again but standing so we could be at the same level. “Please tell me you did not just come into my office and speak to me like I’m one of your friends and not your employee. That you just didn’t come in here to question my relationship and professionalism. Please Pete, my capable and confident employer, did not just come into this office with this shit.”
I folded my arms over my chest as I stared at him.
“Yes, I fucking did. Because when who you’re fucking impacts this organization, it is my fucking business. Please know that I thought Harvey was a damn fool to fire his head coach before the season was over but now, I see why someone might do that.”
My heart sank but my spine became steel.
I came around the corner of the desk, grabbed my whistle and clipboard and said to him.
“I also see why coaches go to the media about disputes with their owner,” I retorted.
He scoffed and said, “Well, you’re fucking one of them. So…”
“Pete, I’m going to pretend this conversation never happened because any more words will ruin a really great friendship.” I opened and closed the door and went to practice.
The nerve of that fucking asshole. He could not be believed. Who does that? Who did that?
More importantly, what the fuck?