by Xyla Turner
“Funny you say that, because, four weeks ago, I made my way into the office of one Coach Zora McCoy. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of her, but she’s an up-and-coming coach, making a name for herself and will be in the pro’s faster than you can bat your eyes. Yeah, her. I was offering her a job with the Warriors, preparing to fire every single coach on my team if she would have even given me the hint she would consider it. She shot me down and kicked me out of her office. You know what she said?” I paused for the dramatic effect. “She told me that she already had an owner and any proposal I had of her needed to go through her owner. The woman wouldn’t even entertain the notion of leaving and I swear, I think I fell in love with her right then and there. That sort of loyalty can’t be bought. I almost wondered if you were fucking her, but I know you’re happily married so you wouldn’t dip your wick in something so close to you. However, imagine my surprise when I finally catch the uncatchable, Zora McCoy and she allows me to take her on a fucking date. I get a crazy ass email from that same owner who she was blindly loyal to, threatening to ruin me because I was dipping into business that was not his.”
I laughed, but it was for effect too because I didn’t find shit funny.
“Imagine when I find out my lady is upset because the owner, the one she is so loyal to, turned on her suspecting her of colluding with the enemy. Fuck, that makes me mad because it makes me think you don’t know who you have in your employ. Loyalty, Pete, is the thing that keeps you in your job with chrome door knobs and frosted windows. Loyalty from fans, players and coaches. Take it from someone who had a coach who was not loyal and dragged me through a media frenzy because she couldn’t get her way. Loyalty from the likes of Zora McCoy, fuck, if I could tie her down and make her loyal to me even on a friendship level, I would. So, I wanted to enact all types of havoc in your life and I still might, to be honest. But, I’m going to take a page from my lady’s book. That woman is not going to be around for long and the last thing you want to do is burn a bridge with a potential partner with what she’s doing in the women’s basketball arena. Your franchise will suffer if she’s not handled correctly because she’s iconic. Your team will more than likely make it to the playoffs and the way they are practicing, they’ll make the championship and win the damn thing.
It would be in your best interest to tread lightly for those reasons alone and if that’s not enough, you should know she means something to me. A lot, in fact. I won’t take kindly to her being mistreated in any way by anybody. Even a fellow owner. I have no fucking loyalty to you, but you, hit the goldmine when you captured that talented woman. You should treasure that.”
My hands were on his desk as I leaned in to make my point crystal clear. Pete simply looked at me with open curiosity before he said, “Sounds like you’re smitten.”
“I hope you got more from what I just said, than the fact she’s got me by the balls.” I stand up straight and walked toward the door then I heard Pete again.
“Lost my head for a minute,” he said. “Was thinking I was owed more than knowing about this after TMZ or whatever the fuck else was happening. It felt disloyal, but she’s not mine, you know. My employee, yes, but not mine. I, uh, have counted on her being the utter professional. Not fucking around with anyone, getting caught in scandals and shit. A champion for her players and then she’s acting like a fucking prom queen on prom night on your arm. Man, that’s not the bulldog I hired. So, I got besides myself, but she set the record straight.” Pete chuckled. “Told me she’d do the same thing Prentice did, if I talked to her like that again. Even dared me to fire her. Reminded me of the bulldog I hired.”
He paused, and I said nothing.
“After some reflection, I’m glad you brought that out in her. She deserves more than just the team as her family and companions. She needed more... and her in that fucking dress. That said, she was getting more. You’ll have no problems from me. I’ve already made arrangements to let Zora know the same.”
My head nodded in acknowledgement of his words and I left without saying anything else. My job in the matter had been done.
The next morning, I was leaving Zora’s house, while she remained inside, tightly tucked in after waking her with oatmeal and two orgasms using only my tongue and fingers. Her day did not start until late morning, but I had an early start. Last night, she told me a bouquet of flowers with a long letter of apology came from Pete, along with two tickets to Japan, all expenses paid and a call from Pete, apologizing. She was shocked and asked if I had spoken to him. I told her that we spoke but it’s not what she thought. I did not make him apologize or anything. Apparently, he’d seen the error of his ways prior to me coming to talk with him. Oddly enough, Zora believed me and didn’t fight me on this. She said she’s been trying to go to Japan for a while but it never panned out. So, this was a great gift and a huge apology.
I would agree.
A man could learn a thing or two from Pete. That’s probably why he was married for as long as he was and being the reactionary asshole, I’ve now seen him to be.
****
The season started next Friday for us with our opener vs. the Denver Knights. Zora’s team opened up on Saturday when they played against the pro team, the New York Liberty. This was another reason I knew she was not playing this year. Starting an opener with a non-league Pro team was ballsy, but I could imagine she wanted to know where her girls lined up with the pros. Also, she probably also wanted the Pros to see her girls. It was fucking genius and she should think about owning a team, instead of coaching one. It was crazy because she and I never discussed our business. What we were doing with the team, our strategies or anything. It was like church and state when we were in the house and it wasn’t even a discussion. Just a known fact.
God, I loved her for that alone. Nothing could ever be compromised if this was the case. It was also sad because she was brilliant and it would only make me a better owner to have her by my side.
On Wednesday night, Zora flipped off the sports channel, turned to me and said, “We should talk.”
Oh hell.
Keeping my features cooled, I pulled her closer across the couch, so she was within reaching distance before I said, “Okay, talk.”
Zora nodded her head and started, “The season is starting next week and this little bubble we’ve created is going to be interrupted. The past few weeks, we’ve been in one another’s bed almost every night. It’s been great but with what I have planned for the girls and how we’re going to be on the road, I think we should renegotiate what we’ve been doing.”
Fuck, I’m glad I moved her over, so I could study the contours of her face and body language, because I wanted no misinterpretations of what she was saying.
“You’re saying,” I kept my voice even. “that you don’t think we’ll be able to sleep over anymore because our schedules are about to get hectic?”
Her lips pursed before she inhaled.
“No, Harvey,” she clarified. “I’m going to be occupied heavily this season and I won’t be able to do sleepovers or have a lot of time to fraternize. I tend to get bogged down with my job and that becomes priority.”
“Well, you’re in a relationship now, Zora,” I emphasized. “Where do we line up in your list of priorities?”
She sighed. Apparently, I was annoying her.
“Is it a relationship?” the woman countered. “I mean, we’ve got into this system, but we don’t really discuss what this is. We fuck, hard and rough and we both get off but I’m—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I cut her off. “I told your ass before, not to do that shit. If you’re upset because I’m not consenting to what you’re hinting at, then deal with that. But to trivialize what we’ve been building, I won’t sit here and have you try to play me for a fool. I wasn’t in this alone. These feelings are not just on me.”
That steely comment caused her to look away from me and to anything but me and probably because she knew I was dead right. There was go
ing to be a cold day in hell before I let her shut us down, so she could work more.
Fuck that.
“Look, I’m no stranger to the nature of your job, Zora.” I grabbed her hands. “I know things will be different. We’re not putting us on pause or breaking up because that’s not fucking happening. What we’ve built, we will continue to build, just around your schedule. It may not be every day like it was but every week works for me. I’ve made you a priority, sweetheart. This,” I signal between the two of us, “is real, and it doesn’t stop because the season is starting. If anything, it will only make us stronger.”
“You’re so confident.” Zora laughed. “Mr. Black with everything figured out.”
“No, not everything. A conundrum of a woman I have yet to figure out, sits before me, trying to break my heart. I ain’t figured that shit out, but I ain’t letting her go,” I told her. “She’s mine.”
Then I pulled her on top, so she was straddling me over my thighs.
“I know you’re committed to your job, sweetheart. I would never stand in the way of that.” I kiss her chin. “I’m just asking you not throw us away either. Okay?”
A tentative smile spread across her face before she replied, “Okay.”
We made sweet love that night and like always when I was at her house, I left her after delivering several orgasms in the morning, tucked tight in bed. When I left my house, she remained there until she had to go to work, which was three hours after me. We had toiletries at each other’s place, a drawer of clothes and our favorite foods, including a box of tea. We had come into a routine but now, Zora was right. It would be interrupted, and I wondered how it would impact us.
It seemed like she knew it would but I was the one in denial.
Chapter 11
Zora
“Dad,” I exclaimed. “Would you calm down?”
“How can I calm down when my daughter is gallivanting around Philadelphia with a known playboy in this industry in a goddamn dress? Did he make you wear it? Shame you to wear it? You always wear your uniform. I didn’t even know you owned a goddamn dress. I’m calling your brother so I can get in there to have a conversation with this asshat. I don’t give a shit if he’s filthy rich and as big as the Rock. He can bounce those pecs at somebody else’s daughter.”
It was not my intention to laugh, but I did because that was a perfect example of how big Harvey was and he could bounce his pecs. I’d seen it several times.
“Dad, you’re not calling, Morris. You do realize I am thirty-fucking-seven and grown, mind you. I have been on my own for a long time now. I can and will take care of myself. And no, he did not make or goad me into wearing a dress. I’ve had it for years and never had an occasion to wear it and then I did. Okay, mystery solved.” I shared with the man who taught me how to cuss three ways from Sunday.
“Fuck,” he snapped. “If you’re thirty-seven that means I’m old as shit.”
“Dad, really?” I shook my head.
“Girl, do you know what you’re doing?” His voice grew low.
Malcolm McCoy was a man’s man, who raised both me and my brother as if we were both boys. I dressed and looked like a boy most of the time. I also played sports, video games, tackle football and dug worms out of the mud like my brother. It was an easier life that way, for all of us. Shit, life was easy.
However, there were times when my dad didn’t know what to do with a girl. Periods, hair, boys and definitely shopping. So, he kept it simple. Took me and my brother to the unisex salon, where they braided my natural hair and cut his. Morris and I wore similar clothes all the time. He had the school teach me about my period and threatened most boys by having a talk with them. This was life in the McCoy household.
Now, when he gets the low tone, it’s when he’s out of his depth. The strong man is out of options and looking for a rope.
“Dad, I’m fine, and I know what I’m doing.” I tried to calm him down. “You didn’t raise a fool.”
“You’re definitely not that.” He laughed. “Ready to take this season and turn it on its head?”
He was changing the subject.
“Yeah, we’re working hard.” I shared. “We’re going to make it, this year. I feel it.”
“I feel it too, Zor.” He was just as excited. “This is the year. Everything you’ve worked for is coming.”
I could hear his grin over the phone, and I grinned too. Despite the things my dad actually called about, the one thing that was never in question, he was my biggest fan. The loudest, the greatest, and if he didn’t have so much chest hair, he would have painted his body with my name and colors like the college kids did at games and run around the entire stadium. In high school, he’d been ejected from a few games where the referees weren’t calling a fair game. In college, he was only ejected once, but that’s because the university fans were crazier than he was. I think Dad, secretly was their leader. He’d never share.
“So, when do I meet this fella?” he asked, changing the subject again.
“When it’s time,” I answered.
“Fair enough,” he replied. “I’ll be at that opener on Saturday.”
“Oh good.” I smiled. “I’ll see you then, Dad.”
“You will. Take care.” He hung up.
I settled back at my desk and prepared for practice. We were three days away from the season opener. I rubbed my neck as the small ache reminded me of the pulse between my legs that Harvey had ignited weeks ago. The small indents in my skin from his teeth spoke the ownership he definitely had over my body. With each touch of his teeth mark, I could feel my pussy clinch. The man was good; a lady had to give him that.
Without thinking, I picked up the phone and called his office line.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he answered on the first ring. “How are you feeling?”
“Horny and achy,” I replied.
“Fuck,” he lowered his voice. “Can you take a lunch break? I can fix all of that in an hour.”
I burst out laughing at his seriousness.
“I’m not playing,” he said with a sober tone.
“I know you’re not.” I continued to laugh.
“Sweetheart, don’t get me riled up at work like that,” Harvey said in a low tone. “You know I put my duty to please you at the top of my priority list.”
Shit.
I chuckled, but it was not funny because, mother fucker… Harvey was right.
“Hey, I got to go. I just wanted to hear your voice.” I was retreating.
“Wait,” he put the phone down and I heard him tell people to give him a few minutes.
Shit.
“Zora,” he called.
“Yeah, I’m here.” My heart skipped a beat.
“Everything alright?” Harvey asked, not missing much of anything coming from me.
“Yes, everything is fine. I didn’t want anything, just running my hand over the bite mark on my shoulder and it made me think of you,” I shared.
“Fuck, did I hurt you?” He rushed.
“No, no. It was a good thought.” I laughed. “A horny one.”
“Oh, you like when I mark you?” he asked.
“I guess I do.” Glad that I wasn’t facing him because he would see how uncomfortable this conversation made me.
“Noted,” Harvey commented with that devious tone.
He would definitely be marking more of me as soon as he got a chance.
“Okay, I have practice and an event tonight. We’ll meet up tomorrow?” I asked him.
“Shit, I forgot about that event.” I heard his computer turn on. “Uh, let me get back to you on that, but I’ll check in with you tonight. Okay?”
“Yup. Okay. Later,” I said.
“Later.”
The line went dead, and I made my way to start practice.
****
The art show featuring female athletes in all their glory was actually, pretty nice. I thought it was going to be a bunch of naked women holding balls. Thank goodness, i
t was a lot more sophisticated than what I imagined. Women of all shades, sports and various positions posed in different stations. Displaying their strength, determination and focus.
It was beautiful.
I was admiring the volleyball station with a woman high up in the air, with her arm back about to spike the ball over the net. She was tall and fit, with muscle strength in every aspect of her exposed body. Calves, thighs, butt, stomach, arms and even her neck. Her goal was clear, and the blown-up image, the size of a floor to ceiling painting, made the images, more than life-like.
It made them magical.
“Beautiful,” the words were whispered in my ear, before strong arms wrapped around my stomach pulling me back into a large frame.
The funny part was I knew that smell, that strength and possessiveness anywhere without even having to look.
“Harvey, what are you doing here?” I leaned into his body.
“Enjoying the show,” he said. “I minored in art, you know.”
“I did not know that, Mr. Black.” I wrapped my arms around his. “Why are you here?”
I knew the answer but maybe I just wanted him to say it out loud.
“You know that already, sweetheart.” He nuzzled my neck with his nose.
Yeah, he would keep me waiting until he was good and ready. I was about to turn around and shock the hell out of him, when I heard a catty, unfamiliar female voice.
“So, the rumors are true. The great Harvey Black has fallen.”
I turned around to see a tall, slender but very fit woman who looked oddly familiar.
“Ciara, nice of you to taint this party,” Harvey commented in a cold and removed tone.
She narrowed her eyes on him and said, “If you’re here, it was already tainted. I mean, that’s what you do right. Taint shit, and move on, like it had nothing to do with you.”
I turned to Harvey and said, “I’m going to get some wine, would you like something?”
There was no time for an old lover’s spat in my space and time. That I was making clear, and he could settle whatever he had with the nasty woman.