Determining Possession (Connecticut Kings Book 3)

by Christina C Jones

And that was the case tonight, too.

  To be clear, it was still fuck him, and her too, for what the two of them had done. It wasn’t okay, there weren’t any excuses for it, and I could live forever without interacting with either of them again.

  But I didn’t feel… destroyed, like I had before. I barely felt angry, and only a little bit disgusted. In fact, my strongest reaction was to the possibility of my pregnancy being revealed to the world before I was ready for it, not the fact that I’d been faced with the man whose betrayal had me flat on my face six or seven months ago.

  Whenever it was.

  Too much had changed since then for me to dwell on it.

  That realization made me smile.

  I didn’t really care anymore.

  Okay… so maybe I still cared some, evidenced by the fact that I’d actually been a little moved over his emotional reaction to my pregnancy, but I wasn’t rushing out of the store to go cry in my car, and that meant something. I was cool. I was relaxed. All I really cared about was whether or not my ice cream had started to melt dealing with that fool.

  It was such a yummy feeling.

  So yummy that I practically skipped to the checkout lane, and then to the car with my bags. I locked myself inside, and then pulled my emergency spoon from my purse to dig into my ice cream early. While I was sitting there, my phone chimed, and I dug it out of my purse to check who it was. When I read the name on the screen, I smiled.

  “Hopefully you’re sleeping peacefully right now, but it’s just past eleven here, and you just popped in my mind. Naked. You’re fine as hell, girl. – R. Bishop.”

  I giggled, then stuck another spoonful of ice cream in my mouth before I texted back. “I’m actually wide awake, eating pistachio ice cream. Tell me more about how fine as hell I am.”

  “Nah, can’t have you getting a big head. What are you doing up? – R. Bishop.”

  “Was editing. Ran to the store for snacks. Sitting in the car now.”

  “Did you at least have Dre go with you? He didn’t travel with me, and I purposely set it up so he’d be available to you. – R. Bishop.”

  “You already know the answer to that.”

  “Get home. Call me when you pull up. – R. Bishop.”

  For reasons I couldn’t seem to pinpoint, though I’d given it a ton of thought, it didn’t really bother me when Ramsey got bossy. Actually… it kinda turned me on, but these days, so did most everything else. Instead of arguing, I put my ice cream down and obliged him, calling as soon I pulled my car into the garage at the back of the townhouse.

  “Are you happy now?” I asked, as I settled into my bed, snacks at the ready beside me. Now that I was home, video-editing didn’t seem nearly as appealing as my pillows and comforter.

  “Now that you’re safe inside your apartment, instead of out in the middle of the night? Yes, I am.” Ramsey’s warm chuckle crackled through the phone, making me close my eyes. “Must you be so damn stressful?”

  I fake-gasped. “Me?! Stressful?! No idea where you got that from.” I reached over to flip on the lamp, then put the phone on speaker and opened my camera app, snapping a picture that I sent to him. “See? Look at that innocent face.”

  The phone was quiet for a second, while he opened the picture I texted him, and I bit down on my lip to keep myself from laughing as I thought about what he would soon see. I’d swapped my baseball cap for a peacock print headscarf, and my hoodie and sweat pants – and the underwear underneath – for nothing but a Connecticut Kings tee shirt. A moment later, he laughed.

  “This is adorable, Champ,” he said. “You look comfortable as hell. Eyes all sleepy.”

  “I am comfortable as hell. Now that I’m actually in the bed, I am not wide awake anymore.”

  “Yeah, it’s damn near three in the morning there, so I can imagine. I’m not going to keep you, just needed to hear you get in safely.”

  I smiled. “Your diligence is appreciated. And I saw that work you put in at the game tonight. 96 yards. Not bad.”

  “Could’ve been better.”

  “Oh whatever,” I laughed. “Hate on yourself on your own time – I’m proud. You helped secure that win, let me celebrate you fool.”

  He chuckled. “Fine, fine. Hey… before I let you go… did your belly pop anymore?”

  That question sent immediate warmth through me, as I remembered how excited he’d gotten upon waking up two mornings ago to realized that I’d finally “popped”

  “No,” I said, hating that I had to disappoint him. “It’s still just a little…boop. You want a picture?”

  “Would you?” he asked, and my face damn near split open from grinning so hard.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  I extricated myself from the bed and went into the bathroom to stand in front of the mirror. Turning to the side, I pulled my shirt up to just below my breasts, and I snapped a picture of my reflection.

  “Done,” I said, hitting the “send” button before I flipped out the light, and went back to the bed.

  “Got it,” he answered a moment later, then went quiet again for a second. “I don’t know… it looks a little more pronounced to me.”

  “Nah, I ate a pint of ice cream on the way home. That’s all that is,” I laughed.

  For a moment, he laughed too, and then… “Wait a minute… you aren’t wearing any panties in this picture.”

  “Oh, would you look at the time? Gotta go,” I sang, then pulled the phone away from my ear, giggling as I ended the call.

  “You ain’t right. – R. Bishop.” was the text I got a moment later, making me laugh again.

  “Or am I ALWAYS right?” I shot back, a response I was sure made him smile.

  “This question seems like a setup. Good night, Champ. – R. Bishop”

  “So the answer is yes then? Good night to you too.”

  Fifteen

  Where in the world did the last few weeks go?

  I found myself wondering that more and more often lately, and the feeling was only intensified by the arrival of a notification from the pregnancy app on my phone.

  At 18weeks, your baby is about the size of a sweet potato.

  How cute!

  You may start to notice an increase in food cravings – May?! – especially for specific, and sometimes strange, things. Outside of your cravings, make healthy choices so you don’t feel guilty about that candy bar, or extra slice of pizza.

  I was supposed to feel guilty about it?

  You may or may not be “showing” much if this is your first pregnancy, or if you started your pregnancy at a high level of fitness. Every woman is different, but don’t worry – the signature “baby bump” is coming your way soon!

  My hand went to my barely-there baby bump as soon as I read those words. I didn’t fall in either of those categories, but any further “popping” of my belly was certainly taking it’s sweet time. As Darius had reminded me in the store a few weeks ago, I’d never made it beyond week 13, so all of this was new to me. Sometimes, I still had to fight the overwhelming fear of waking up without a baby, but this app, as silly as it seemed, was one of the things that helped ground me.

  I nodded to myself as I read the list of symptoms I “may” be feeling right now.

  Restlessness, swollen hands/feet, cramps, backaches, trouble sleeping.

  A panicked call to Dr. Cho just a few nights ago had led to me taking the advice to sleep on my side instead of my back, to accommodate my uterus, which seemed to be expanding inside, just not outward.

  “It’s a common thing,” she’d assured me. “You’re experiencing a perfectly healthy pregnancy.”

  Dr. Cho was definitely on the unwritten, “Bitch, calm down” list I had to mentally tap into sometimes.

  You’re almost halfway through your pregnancy, which means one of your most important prenatal appointments is coming. You’ll have to give blood, and you’ll probably have the advanced ultrasound where your provider will measure your amniotic fluid levels, che
ck the location of your placenta, and make sure your baby’s growth, development, and heart rate are all on track. Don’t be scared! This is an important step to make sure you’re prepared for everything your baby might need.

  If you haven’t been thinking about your birth plan, now is the time to start! You’ll want a chance to change your mind, and change it back, and plan accordingly before you go into labor.

  That was another thing. I was already thinking about that, among other things. I’d drastically underestimated just how busy Ramsey would be, especially now that he’d been performing at a high enough level to start taking meetings about potential endorsements. Add that to constant practices, meetings with the coaches, meeting with his manager, meetings with Chloe, flights, and then the actual games. And at some point, the man had to sleep, and tend to the other people he knew too. Even though he rarely slept at the apartment the team had set up for him here in Connecticut, opting instead to stay at the townhouse with me, I felt like I didn’t have… enough of him.

  Perils of dating a professional athlete.

  And, hell, speaking of those living arrangements, we were going to have to do something. I had no real desire to live in New York, but in terms of space and security, Ramsey’s condo in Harlem was more practical than the townhouse. If it came down to it, of course I’d live there, but the truth was, I wanted us to find a place that was ours. Together.

  Because that ended up going so well for me last time.

  I wasn’t “supposed” to be at the nesting period quite yet, but my urge to start creating a space for this baby was strong. However, the niggling feeling to not get too far ahead of myself was equally strong – if not stronger. So I didn’t inundate Ramsey, or my friends, or my mother, with details of the elephant themed yellow, gray, and aqua nursery I was building in my head. I kept it to myself, often abandoning actual work to dive into the far reaches of the internet, fawning and gasping over DIY projects I would never actually do.

  And none of that was considering the fact that I was busy as hell myself.

  It turned out that the mention of the new WAWG coming to me about a show wasn’t just a rumor. When they called, I answered, and was on the verge of signing a new contract for what was essentially an expansion of what I was already doing on my own. Same name, pretty much the same format, just with better cameras and a bigger budget, and the chance to add “producer” and “show runner” credentials to my growing resume.

  While I didn’t like that Chloe had advised me to disclose my pregnancy to them, in the first meeting. There were laws that protected women against pregnancy discrimination, but they weren’t strong enough, it was hard to prove, and quite honestly, the people in charge just did whatever the hell they wanted, and paid the fine later. But Chloe assured me it wouldn’t be like that – that not only would the informational be kept confidential, but it would be a positive character point for me, in the eyes of people who were working in the best interest of their investment. Disclosing my pregnancy said that I was honest, vs how not saying anything, knowing I was expected to work, could be seen as sneaky.

  As it turned out, she was right – they appreciated me being upfront about it. They actually offered solutions like using women who were rising stars in the sports news world, and even some female athletes, as guest hosts in my post-birth absence.

  It felt like a blessing.

  But, as blessings go, it wasn’t something I could just sit with, passively. There was work involved with developing the show, not to mention the fact that I couldn’t let the current iteration of it just fall apart.

  And then, there was my own social life.

  I still had friends and family to maintain relationships with, but now, as part of the “Ramsey “Sledgehammer” Bishop” package, a new world was presented to me. I’d already loosely known Jordan to be Ramsey’s friend, but now that they were on the same team – and Ramsey and I were together – his presence was becoming more of a staple, and so was Trent Bailey’s. With the two of them came their partners. Even though Cole and I had already started to grow closer through our Naima connection, it was still new to be invited out together, or to be invited to the Bailey’s home for dinner, to sit out on their back porch and talk, on a social level.

  But at least those relationships were easy breezy.

  Tonight’s dinner?

  Not so much.

  I was supposed to be getting ready to have dinner at Eli Richardson’s home. Instead, I was standing at my bathroom counter in nothing but a towel, reading pregnancy app notifications. I was… procrastinating.

  But, we couldn’t be late, not for the owner of the team. Looking in the mirror, I smoothed my eyebrows with my fingers, then scrunched my face, trying to decide if my features were spreading yet. I didn’t even know if it was supposed to happen this soon, or if it would happen at all, but I was constantly looking for the ways that pregnancy was changing my body.

  Dropping my towel, I examined my breasts first, running my fingers over the nearly imperceptible wine-colored veins that had appeared as they swelled in size. Lower, starting at my ribs, I could just, juuust barely see a line starting there too, and followed it with my fingers. Down my stomach, over my belly button, slightly wider as it led down to my pubic bone. I only knew it was there because I was looking for it, having seen it on other pregnant bellies before.

  I’d longed for this line. It wasn’t fully formed yet, but it would, maybe in a few more weeks, getting darker and darker. Things like that excited me, but still.

  Don’t get too excited.

  I cupped my stomach on both sides, caressing the beginnings of my baby bump. As I stood there, I felt a shift in the air behind me. Looking up at the mirror, I met Ramsey’s gaze through his reflection, standing in the open bathroom door.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, stepping forward to wrap me in his arms. He was already dressed, mostly – he only needed shoes, belt, tie, and jacket, and to finish buttoning his shirt.

  I closed my eyes as his lips, then teeth, met the back of my neck. “Just… looking,” I told him, as his hands moved to rest on my belly. “I’m almost ready. I’m finished with my hair and makeup, just need to put my dress on.”

  “For what though?” he asked, drawing a moan from my lips as one of his hands slid down, pushing between my legs. I was already wet – was always wet, these days – and he groaned against my ear as his middle finger slipped into me, easily. His palm blanketed the rest of that hyper-responsive area in heat. He was only moving that one finger, exploring a place he already knew well, but just the skin-to-skin sensation was enough to have me throbbing.

  “Ramsey,” I whimpered, as his other hand came up to cup one of my breasts in a gentle squeeze as his thumb brushed my nipple – so sensitive now that even such simple contact sent goosebumps racing over my skin. “We can’t be late for this dinner.”

  “Mmm. Guess you’d better come fast then, Champ.”

  I gasped as he ground the heel of his hand against my clit, creating a delicious friction that almost made me do exactly that. His teeth sinking into my neck distracted me though, enough that I rocked against his hand, trying to recreate the feeling he’d interrupted.

  He laughed at me, withdrawing his touch to scoop me into his bulky arms, carrying me to the bed. He spread me out, propping me on a couple of pillows so I wouldn’t be laying flat, and then stripped – I got my chance to laugh at him in the way he carefully laid out his clothes across the chair in the corner so he wouldn’t have to iron again.

  There was nothing funny about his mouth on me though.

  Teasing, barely there touches of his tongue to my nipples, an act that filled me with a pleasurable sort of rage. An act that had me flooding, and fuming, at the same time.

  “Ramsey, please.”

  “Shhhh.”

  He quieted me with a hand caressing my face, his thumb resting against my lips as he closed his mouth over one of my nipples. A gentle, perfect suck, and then a long, lazy
drag of his tongue that was so good it made my stomach contract, and cave inward. He did it again, on the other side, and I brought my hands to his head, keeping him there.

  Well… trying.

  There was zero effort to him taking his lips further south, trailing kisses along the line I’d caressed just minutes ago. There was no rush to it, either. Slow, deliberate, loving kisses, especially once he reached the subtle curve of my bump, made even smaller by me being on my back.

  It wasn’t all sweetness though – his eyes were hooded with lust as he pushed his fingers into me again, staring past my little bump to look me right in the face as he ran his tongue between my lower lips. My head fell back when he stretched my legs wide, breaking eye contact to bury his face between my legs. His hands went under me, gripping my ass cheeks as he lifted me up for better, deeper access, circling his tongue in places that still made me blush, but also… made me scream.

  His name, nickname, field position, all of it fell from my lips with abandon, because it felt just that damn good. Something about the hormones coursing through me made every touch more electric, every sensation more vivid, everything just… better. Which was saying a lot, because the sex had always been amazing, but this was different.

  My throat was raw, legs weak, core throbbing with the aftershocks of orgasm by the time he lowered me, then moved to position himself between my legs. I kept my eyes closed, anxiously awaiting the sweet pressure of him inside of me, but it didn’t come.

  He hooked one of my legs over his arm then wrapped his free hand around his dick. My halfway-sitting-up position gave me a perfect view of what he was doing – only adding to the pleasure that coursed through me as he rubbed it over my clit, teasing me again.

  “Ramse—mmm!”

  Before I could even say anything, he’d dipped his thumb into me and then put it my mouth to quiet me – so fast that he had to have been planning to do it as soon as I tried to speak. He smirked as I scowled at him, but a moment later I was moaning around his thumb as he finally sank into me.

  He only managed a few strokes before he flipped us over, pulling me on top of him. As soon as I was firmly grounded, his hands went to my hips. He guided me as I rode him, then moved those hands to my breasts. I pushed everything out of my head, except how good it felt to be filled like this, how hot his hands were, the skill of his fingers as they worked my nipples, worked me into a frenzy.