by Xyla Turner
“I have boxed seat tickets,” I teased.
“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” I’m sure she was shaking her head.
“Not really, I’m going and asking a friend if they want to go,” I shared even though the ping to my heart of calling her a friend made me pause.
She wasn’t my friend. She was mine.
My everything.
“Yes, okay. I’ll go,” she couldn’t hide the excitement. “I can’t believe this.”
“And, you’re coming to my parent’s house on Sunday,” I reminded her.
“Right, okay. I’m not going to pretend we’re together, Harvey.” Zora informed me.
“That’s fine, I told them we weren’t, so no lies,” I said. “Okay, sweetheart, I’ll see you on Friday.”
“Okay, Friday it is.” She hung up.
The day of the play couldn’t come fast enough as I counted down the minutes until I could get Zora in my presence again. We picked her up around one in the afternoon, so we could beat the New York traffic, which was always a bear on Fridays. She had on a long coat but I could tell, she didn’t have on her uniform of a black suit but probably a dress. I anticipated when I’d get to see her in another rare moment and both times were when she was out with me.
This woman.
We made small talk and some basketball talk during the two-hour trip, but mostly I sat and stared at her, while she gazed out the window at all the sights. It was a comfortable but uncomfortable silence. I wanted my Zora back.
We arrived very early, so I took her to a hibachi restaurant. Zora took off her coat, to reveal a skin tight black dress with the back out, a v-cut sheer opening in the front which framed her sexy as fuck body.
“Damn,” I whistled.
She shook her head and smiled but she had no idea how hard I became just watching her standing in that damn dress. It was quickly gone, when I realized we were sitting next to a large family with kids. They loved the throwing of the food, and fire choo choo trains. Zora was able to catch every single piece of shrimp thrown in her mouth, which had the whole table in awe and I sat there with my hand on her thigh and hers on top of mine.
Once we finished, we made our way to the theatre, which was packed as well but since I had boxed seats, we bypassed the rest of the lines. We made it to our seats, and the wonder that filled her face... Damn, I wanted to make sure she always had that look.
She sat down, and I placed my hands on her thigh again and she did the same thing we did in the restaurant. The show was amazing, and I even saw Zora wipe a tear or two from her eyes. The story was a classic and one that, when done on Broadway, was phenomenal. As we were leaving, I asked Zora if she wanted to say in New York tonight and go back to Philly tomorrow.
Her eyes searched mine, then she shocked me and asked, “Let’s stay tonight. Are we going to a club or Times Square or what?”
She was looking for an adventure.
“Well, let’s see what’s going on tonight,” I answered, while pulling out my phone.
There is going to be a flash mob on 14th Street, a burlesque club a few blocks from here, a fair—”
“The Burlesque Club! I’ve never been and I want to see,” she exclaimed. “I hear they’re awesome.”
That wonder was back in her eyes and I didn’t give a shit if it was a crocheting club, we were going to do it.
“Burlesque, it is,” I answered, grab her hand and lead the way.
There were so many lights, attractions and people on the way to the club that it seemed a bit overwhelming. It must have been the same for Zora because she leaned into me as if she might lose me. That’s how many people were outside at ten o’clock at night.
The club was larger than I expected but again, it was packed. I paid for the VIP seating, so we had more privacy and a better view. Halfway through one of the shows, my hand landed on her thigh again but this time, I started making small circles with my fingers. Igniting the fire within her and calming my own self down was the goal.
“May I help you sir?” the waitress came up to us, but her eyes leer on me.
“Do you have any tea?” I asked.
“Yes, what kind would you like?” She put the disgusting pen in her mouth in an attempt to be sexy.
“First flush, please.” I turned to Zora and said, “Sweetheart, what would you like?”
“A glass of red wine, please,” she said with a smile.
“What she said,” I told the waitress.
“Very well.” She nodded, put her pen in her cleavage and strutted away.
A few moments later, the waitress came with back our drinks and a big smile for me.
“Anything else, sir?” She kept addressing me which was annoying.
“No.” I turned away.
“The service here is awfully friendly,” Zora said with a smirk.
“That better be sarcasm.” I squeezed her thigh.
She held up a napkin with a number scrawled on it and said, “Nope, not sarcasm.”
Then she burst out laughing.
Fuck.
It was my napkin she had in her hands, the woman was flirting with me and she wasn’t even remotely jealous. She was such a conundrum.
“You don’t even care, do you?” I asked.
“Listen, if you want the free pussy she’s throwing your way, by all means, have at it.” Zora waved me away.
“That wouldn’t bother you?” I question her.
“We’re not together, Harvey. You are a free man and I am a free woman, okay. What we do with our personal lives is our personal business.” She took a sip of her wine.
“Zora, let’s get one thing clear. If you so much as act like you are seeing someone else that’s the day I’m going to get locked up for beating the shit out of another man.” I raise my eyebrow at her. “Don’t have me going to jail to prove a point.”
“Harvey, that is absurd. We are not—”
“Go ahead and try me.” I tightened my grip on her thigh before I whispered in her ear. “That pussy of yours belongs only to me. It’s wet now because I say she is. You belong to me. Every goddamn inch. So, please don’t fool yourself into thinking just because you declare we’re over, that we are. Like I told you before, you may be done with us, but I am not.”
My hand slid higher up and my good girl opens her legs for me to have access to what’s mine.
“You, sweetheart, own every inch of me. My heart, my head, my cock and you already had my balls. So, this goes both ways baby. Always has.”
“Harvey,” she moaned right before my fingers touched her taut clit.
“Like I said,” I flicked her bud once, and she gasped. “Mine.”
Pulling my hands out from under her dress, I put both fingers in my mouth and dared her to contradict me. Nothing from the peanut gallery, so we continued watching the show. When it was over, our driver took us to a hotel in Brooklyn, so we’d be closer to Philadelphia when we decided to leave on Sunday.
Zora was three glasses of wine in by the time we reached the hotel room. She sat closer to me on the way to the hotel and was under my arm while we went to the penthouse suite and by the time, I closed the door, my woman was on her knees.
“Sweetheart—”
She shushed me and was pulling off my belt.
With quick work of those nimble fingers, my pants and boxers were at my ankles and her mouth had tried to swallow my cock in one gulp.
Fuck, she was amazing.
My hands had her curly mane wrapped around them as I pulled her on and off of my cock. She gagged and spit but my woman was taking me deeper and deeper.
“Swallow my cock, sweetheart.” I coaxed. “Relax your throat.”
She tried it once, then again until she was able to succeed without gagging. We did this several more times until I felt my balls tighten up. I was about to cum down her throat. Pulling her off of me, I kicked off my pants, stood her up, so we could go farther into the room. I tried to take the dress off her in the most delicate manner I coul
d. If I ripped it, she’d have to walk around with my t-shirt on, but the thing fit like a glove.
“The zipper,” Zora murmured. “On the side.”
Twisting her body, I found what she was talking about and dragged it down, making the dress more manageable to get over her head. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pulled her on top of me and before popping one of those nipples in my mouth, I told her to, “Ride me home, sweetheart.”
“Yes, Mr. Black,” she said in that sassy way of hers.
I slapped her ass, and she began to move and gyrate all over my cock. I nipped and bit all over her body until I was good and satisfied she had my marking all over. It was possessive but I could have given a fuck. Zora began to bounce on me and I nearly lost my mind. I was so fucking close.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” I whispered against her lips. “Love you.”
Her hands tightened in my hair, right before she went faster and whispered back, “Love you too.”
I erupted within her tight cunt and I swear my vision became blurry. Falling back on the bed, brought Zora right on top of me. My hand trailed her spine in slow motions as my mind came back down from cloud nine.
She rolled off me and went to the bathroom. When she returned, she climbed into bed. I curled into her body just to hold her. Then I realized this would probably be the last time I could even do this. Not until everything came together with the plan.
It had to work.
****
Dinner with my folks was interesting because although they knew we weren’t together, they acted like we were. Even Zora told them, “We aren’t together.”
“Yeah, we know.” My mom waved her off, then whispered to Zora, “Harvey will come around. Believe me, I know.”
I was standing right there but even Pops, who probably agreed with me about the whole kneeling fiasco, said, ‘Zora was the only woman he’s met that made my eyes light up’. He also said, ‘that’s what Mom did to him. So, regardless the lies Zora and I tell each other, we’re very much in love and it covers all’.
Hell, I never heard my father talk about love or shit like that. He was an army dude, who liked football. He didn’t much care for basketball, but since my older brother Hansel played, then he was fine with me doing the ‘other sport’. That’s what he called it.
Hansel lived in Virginia, but his daughter, Beth, went to school in Philly, so she stayed with the family sometimes.
“So, dear. How many kids do you want to have?” My mom asked Zora, who nearly spit out all of her wine.
“Mother, can you stop with the interrogation?” I help Zora clean up the mess on the table.
When Zora went to the restroom that’s when my parents started in on my plan and wanted to know how it was working. I told them one step at a time.
One fucking day at a time.
When she returned, we finished eating, played Parcheesi for a bit and then Zora had to go home and get ready to return to work tomorrow.
“I’ll have my driver take you home,” I told her at the doorway.
“No, Harvey, it’s okay. I called an Uber.” She informed me.
“Why? You know I can have my driver take you home,” I asked and did not hide my annoyance.
“Because you know when you and I are in the same place, things happen. If you go home with me, things happen and I have to beat myself up in the morning and I’m sick of doing that. I don’t want to lead you on or give you false hope and I don’t want to block anything from you either, and vice versa. It’s best if we just go cold turkey, okay? We’re playing with fire here. We had our one night, we saw the show… Thank you by the way. We had last night and just now with the parental dinner.” Zora made a face as if to say, ‘of all the things’. “Therefore, let’s not torture each other.”
She was right but also wrong.
“Zora, we’ve already played with fire and got burnt. Both of us,” I shared.
She nodded once, causing her curly mane to move with it. Her phone buzzed.
“I gotta go. Thank you for everything.” She pecked me on the cheek, then left the house and entered a late model sedan.
Now, for plan A.
Chapter 15
Zora
The moment that I had been dreading was hours away and my stomach was in tight knots which cause a nauseous feeling. I knew the media would be there to watch every single move. Hell, they’d been to every game so far and the semi-pro league never got as much coverage before. However, the coming of two Philadelphia rivals, the Lady Vikings vs. the Lady Warriors was a game no one would miss.
Harvey and I had been in the news circuit after our red-carpet experience. But, especially after he didn’t write a letter of support and I knelt with my team. The collective media lost their ever-loving minds. The topic of interracial relationships came up because of it. How people are coping with the injustice in various ways. What is the real state of Mr. Harvey Black and Coach Zora McCoy. One headline read, “Are they together?”
We never commented, but between our appearances at the fundraiser and in New York, no one could really tell. We were professional in public. Well, probably more than friendly but that’s what happens when two people love each other.
Nervous energy was in the air, even when I walked into the locker room for our pre-game talk. My team knew of the relationship but that was about it. I reminded them what we came here for.
“Vikings, when we get on that court,” I pointed toward the arena. “It doesn’t matter if you’re family or foe, it’s game on. Understand? The Warriors are a team that was hit hard in the beginning of the season. They’re a team in transition. However, don’t sleep on them. They’ve bounced back harder than most and they have something to prove. The difference between us is we have something to show. Let them try to get proof because we already have the facts. We’re ten and two in our league. You know as well as I do the two games we lost were not games we should have lost. Neither was a better team, and that’s something we know. Now, I tell you this. Despite the history between Mr. Black and me, when we hit that court. Friend, family or foe. It’s…”
I let it hang, so they could finish.
“Game on,” they roared.
“That’s what I’m talking about. Now, let do what the fuck we came here to do.”
The ladies started playing their music, pumping themselves up and within one hour, we were on the court, lining up for the national anthem. I was searching for Harvey, but I didn’t see him. He was probably in the owner’s box with his colleagues.
A gasp went through the crowd but I did not catch what was happening. A high school kid from the local public school blew the National Anthem out of the water and everyone cheered. Then there was another gasp through the crowd. My eyes searched the stadium to see what they were looking at but everyone was looking at the other team.
Holy shit.
At the end of their bench, right next to the coaches, Harvey was on one knee with his team and coaches, even when the anthem was over. Then the announcer’s voice came over the loudspeaker and said, “Excuse me fans, but Mr. Harvey Black, owner for the Warriors, has a brief announcement.”
We were all standing by then but he and his team remained kneeling, except he was on a mini stage rolled out to the middle of the court. When the two guys stopped pulling it, Harvey waved to everyone and I swear to you, they all cheered.
The man was still kneeling.
He picked up a microphone and said, “Sorry, this won’t take long. When this whole ‘take a knee’ thing started, I called it a fad. I’m a veteran and come from a long line of vets, who have fought hard for this country. Many of my friends have died and given up their lives so we can live in the land of the free and home of the brave. That was why I did not write a letter of support. I’m pretty unconventional, and I am not the person to let others pressure me into making a move I don’t believe in.”
Some boos went through the crowd, but Harvey held up his hand to calm them.
“This st
ance also cost me one relationship I had come to depend on. While many of you may not know me, I’m not the relationship type of guy.” He chuckled. “She,” Harvey looked toward me and said, “Come here, Sweetheart.”
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
“Girl, you better go.” Justine nudged me.
“Zora, come here, please,” Harvey repeated.
Oh fuck.
“Zora, go. He’s calling you,” Sasha whispered.
I must have been in a daze because one quick push jolted me, causing me to move toward him to meet him at half court. My heart was pounding out of my chest, my jacket felt too tight, the lights were making me hot and I hoped I didn’t have toilet tissue stuck to my boot.
An ‘ahhhh’ went through the crowd, including cheers and claps of triumph as I climbed the mini stage to join him.
Harvey continued, “This woman here, Coach Zora McCoy, stood firm and told me how she felt about the ‘take a knee’ stance and she couldn’t reconcile my stance with her beliefs.” He smiled at me. “That’s the type of woman she is. Strong, determined, loyal, dedicated and a trailblazer. You don’t need me to read her resume because this woman right here is first class and my life has been better ever since she entered it.”
The crowd cheered louder at his words.
Then he kept going.
“So, I researched what Colin Kaepernick started and why. I read the statistics and began to realize why black lives matter too. I heard what she said, saw how she doesn’t just kneel but gives her time, money and heart to the local schools, camps and urban youth. It’s a travesty, and that’s not why my comrades lost their lives. It’s not brave to start a war on our own citizens. It’s damn sure not the land of the free for us to sit back and watch it and do nothing. So, now I take a knee. I did write a letter of support for the Lady Warriors and we’ll do more than take a knee. We will start to make some real change.”
The crowd stands in solidarity of Harvey’s words and the overwhelming joy I feel has bubbled over and tears are rolling down my cheeks. He looks at me, then give me that arrogant, I got you, smile. Which makes me realize, he’s not done.
“Today, I also take a knee because I wanted to ask that fearless, courageous woman, who challenged me, gave me a chance before, if she’d give me a chance again.” Harvey swiveled around so he was facing me on one knee. “I’m on one knee asking if you, Zora McCoy, would do me the great honor of marrying me, be my wife and letting me love you until my dying day?”