“Cora, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mimi turned to Gemma. “Close your eyes.”
Reluctantly, Gemma did as asked.
Mimi stroked her lids lightly. “How is it different? Are you going out to dinner?”
“Maybe. He shies away from the press.”
“Hang out?”
“I suppose.”
“Have sex?”
“Yes.” The way Cora said, “Yes,” sounded more like “Duh.”
“It’s no different.” Gemma couldn’t resist opening her eyes.
Mimi chuckled, digging into her case again. “I have to agree with our prodigy.”
“It’s different,” Cora grumbled.
Again, Gemma resisted smiling. Dooley used to say it was easier to ask for an explanation of your opponent’s position than to argue. It made them face the holes in their beliefs. She wished she’d paid more attention to her god-father when he was alive. “Make your case. Pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Give us an example.” Mimi pumped the mascara brush. “Is it something I should do with Kent?”
“Hell, no.” Gemma could hear the frown in Cora’s voice. “Do not practice date with Kent Decklin. He’s the kind of guy you share benefits with.”
Gemma fought that smile for all she was worth. “Did Amber and Evan practice date?”
“No. And neither did Blue and Maddy. They were falling in love.” Cora suddenly sounded small.
Unaccountably, Gemma wanted to hug her. How screwed up was that?
Mimi applied mascara on Gemma’s lashes with delicate strokes. “So there are guys you screw around with, and guys you marry. And the guys in-between are practice dates?”
Cora seemed to be nodding.
“I don’t get it,” Gemma said. “Dating is supposed to be a fun evaluation of a guy to see if you want to spend the rest of your life with him. Practice dating seems more like friends with benefits who you hang out with.”
“That’s it exactly.” Cora nodded.
Gemma decided it was time to bring the point home. “But does a guy you practice date know he’s in limbo? Or does he think you’re evaluating each other for marriage? What would Coach Parker say if you told him he was your practice date?”
Cora’s shoulders drooped. Drooped!
~*~
“I need a favor.” Trent rolled over and kissed Cora’s bare shoulder.
They were in his hotel room bed. Brutus was curled on the comforter on the floor.
“On top of keeping me up all night every night, you want a favor. I don’t think so.” But Cora smiled. For the past few days, they’d left game film night separately and met at his hotel. She didn’t put labels on what they were doing. When they were together, Cora couldn’t stop smiling.
“Media day is Saturday. I need help picking out a suit.”
She turned in his arms. “You are truly a wise man. One, for realizing that jacket you wore to Jack’s party was hideous. And two, for asking me. I have exquisite taste.”
He kissed her in that delicious Southern way of his, long and slow, as if he could kiss her forever. When he finished, he whispered, “And there’s a photo shoot on Friday. I need something to wear.”
“What’s the photo shoot for?”
“Vivian arranged a spread for Play Girl Magazine.” His fingers dawdled along her spine. “I haven’t gone all L.A. on you. I told them I was keeping all my clothes on. But I don’t think they’d like me to show up in a T-shirt and basketball shorts.”
“All those women staring at you. That edition of the magazine could become a classic.” She nipped his lip. “I’ll help you find some clothes that make me want to rip them off you.”
“Perfect.” He stroked the length of her spine. “And I need another favor.”
She reached for a condom on the nightstand.
He stilled her hand. “Not that kind of favor.”
She rolled on top of him, laughing as she slid down to give him an intimate kiss. “All you have to do is ask.”
He drew her back up. The light from the pool illuminated his frown. “Don’t assume every question is a request to be serviced.”
She froze. They’d avoided discussions about her friends with benefits. He hadn’t asked to come to her place. They hadn’t been seen anywhere together past the hotel lobby. Please don’t ruin this.
“We’re dating,” Trent said softly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You never turn me down. It’s weird. Don’t get me wrong. Making love with you is great.” Simultaneously, she felt hot and cold. Trent never called what they did together sex. His hand glided over her breast, paused, pressed. “I was going to ask you to work with Hugh Irving. His attitude is a pain in my ass.”
Cora squealed and bussed his lips. “Really? You trust me with him?”
“I’m to the point where I’d bring in a monkey with palm reading skills if I thought it’d help.”
Some of Cora’s enthusiasm waned. “I’m a monkey now, am I?”
“You’re my last resort before the monkey. Hugh nearly brought Ren to tears yesterday.” Trent slid his hand between her legs, slid his fingers into her heat.
“I’ve been busy with new clients. I can spend more time with the Flash today.” Cora gasped when he pressed against her most intimate spot.
He continued working magic with his fingers, until she reached for a condom again.
“Wait,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Before we get to the main course, how about doing me a favor? I have some moves I’ve never tried, like the one in that book in your bedroom.”
Despite her blood thrumming faster as that particular image of entwined limbs resurfaced, she hesitated. People who dated turned their lovers down. “I might have a headache.”
His fingers found her nipple, rolling it into a tight bud.
“Or be too tired.”
His mouth suckled her other nipple.
He was getting harder to resist. “Or not be in the mood.”
Trent swatted her butt, trapping a lungful of air in her throat. “I might not be in the mood anymore, sugar. Maybe you should be asking me for a favor. I could make you beg.” A dare. A challenge. A risk.
Cora didn’t ask in bed. She directed. She didn’t beg. She took.
But Trent was a giving lover. He made her laugh and sigh and cry out in pleasure.
“I want you.” Was that needy voice hers? She swallowed and nestled her cheek against his so she could whisper in his ear, “I want you to be creative and make me shout your name.”
~*~
Trent’s smile stretched across his face, into his chest, and down to his toes.
He walked into the photo studio, dressed like a wealthy, successful NBA coach, with a beautiful woman on his arm.
And then he saw all the lights, the people, and a red velvet couch against a white backdrop.
I’m keeping my clothes on.
“You look hot.” Cora must have sensed his urge to flee. “Every woman’s going to be undressing you, but the most skin she’ll see is here.” She stretched to kiss his chin.
“Cora, I didn’t know you’d be here.” A lanky man with a camera hanging around his neck came over to hug her. “What are you doing later? We should get together. It’s been too long.” The man’s hands lingered too long on her waist.
Jealousy coiled in every muscle, prepared to strike. But Cora wouldn’t appreciate such a display. Trent maneuvered her farther back and extended his hand, introducing himself. “And you are…” So not touching her again.
“Mikey Millar.” He took in Trent’s attire. “Killer shoes. Is Cora your stylist? I need to put her back in my rotation. She always could pick the photogenic ones.” Mikey’s smile was of the let’s-get-naked variety, an invitation he didn’t limit to Cora.
Holy Crikey!
While Trent’s jealousy morphed into panic, Cora’s eyes grew wide. “I’m not his stylist, I’m his…we’re…”
“We’re dating,
” Trent growled, sounding like it was the fourth quarter and he was on zone defense against a cocky rookie in need of a put-down.
Mikey’s smile turned sly. “Dating? That’s new.” He waved at an assistant. “Let’s get you in make-up, coach.”
For the love of God.
Trent knew this had been a mistake.
Cora squeezed his hand. If she didn’t run when he told someone for the first time they were dating, he could submit himself to an hour-long photo shoot.
“Fine,” he said. “But I’m not wearing any eye-liner.”
~*~
Hugh Irving was still a big dude with an entitled attitude.
Cora approached him during the late morning’s three-point practice. “Hey, Irving. I brought you a coffee.” She set his cup next to her on the bleachers.
To his credit, Irving looked at Trent for approval before coming over to join her. The metal bleachers groaned under his weight.
“Normally, when I bring a man coffee,” she said. “I spike it with whiskey. But since you have a full day of practice ahead of you, I didn’t think Coach would appreciate it.”
He slurped his drink. Quite the charmer.
“I’m trying to figure you out, Hugh. It’s no secret that even your agent believes this is your last chance at the NBA.” Cora cradled her cup in both hands, watching Ren shoot a beautiful three with as much grace as a ballerina. “If it was my last chance at something, I’d lay it all on the line. What is it you know that no one else does? Are you about to come into an inheritance? Win the lottery?” She turned to the big man.
He slurped more coffee.
So much for the subtle approach.
Archie walked past with his clipboard, shaking his head.
Cora’s gaze drifted to Trent. He was on the sidelines, helping Jablone with his stutter step before sending him back in to scrimmage. Off-season and training camp were the only periods when time was spent on a player’s technique. Trent was surprisingly patient, but his patience was running out with Hugh.
“Coach Parker believes in you. He’s all-in this year,” Cora said, facing the big man. “Sometimes you have to decide how badly you want something and what you’re willing to sacrifice to get it.”
No response.
Cora’s temper flared. “Or I suppose you could give up and become a lumberjack or a gold miner. The beard certainly fits.”
Movement near the main doors drew her eye. Mimi and Gemma came in. Gemma had been made over and was wearing Mimi’s clothes. Coco poked her head out of the Anuschka bag on Mimi’s shoulder. Cora excused herself and went to greet them.
“What are you guys doing here?” Cora didn’t know whether to congratulate Gemma for getting Mimi out of the house, or cuss her out for bringing the actress to a Flash practice.
“I had to see Randy in person.” Mimi hugged Cora.
“This is so embarrassing,” Gemma grumbled.
“Only if we tell Randy you’re here to show him off.” Mimi was dressed like a movie star in a black leather mini, an orange silk tank, and black booties.
“I’ll introduce you,” Cora promised.
Gemma spun for the door.
“Don’t be a girl.” Mimi tugged her back around.
“I’m showing cleavage,” Gemma said hoarsely, brushing her straightened hair off her face.
A double-take revealed some kind of miracle beneath Gemma’s thin brown sweater. Her never-seen-the-sun skin blushed from chest to cheek.
The team noticed their presence. Cora could feel their effort downshift in intensity.
Trent turned, seeking to identify the source of the team’s change in tempo. His expression hardened.
“Why don’t you guys sit over there by Hugh Irving?” Cora didn’t wait to see if Gemma would argue. She hurried to Trent’s side.
“Get rid of them.” He didn’t look at her. “This is a closed practice.”
Berto and Randy stood on the other side of him, trying not to look at their visitors. And failing.
“The team needs to get used to distractions. Your first game is against the Lakers. There’ll be movie stars and celebs on floor level.”
Trent’s jaw worked. He was always so serious and intense on the court. It wasn’t just the team that could benefit from a starlet’s presence.
“How you respond to celebs says a lot to the team about how they should respond to celebs.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mimi capture Hugh’s beard like a ponytail in her hands. She had the notorious sex-pot on display. It was a role she hadn’t used much since she’d been released from rehab. “Can you see this trimmed back to a goatee, Gemma? He’d be so hot.”
Hugh said something that made Mimi laugh. Gemma slouched next to her, looking as out of place as a child showing up for a play-date in her Sunday school clothes.
“I don’t have time to meet Mimi Sorbet,” Trent groused.
“So you do know who she is,” Cora teased. “Pretend she’s one of your college boosters. A fan who’ll give you support.” Except this support would most likely be on social media.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Did you plan this?”
“No, but I should have.” She rubbed his shoulder. Just once, but she heard Mimi say, “Go, girl.”
“Introduce the coaching assistants,” Trent grumbled. “Then get rid of them.”
“You’re sexy when you’re in charge,” she whispered.
He aimed whiskey-warm eyes her way. “I’ll never be in charge when you’re around.” He didn’t say it sarcastically. He said it softly, as if letting her know he was willing to go at her pace.
Cora couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. Trent was giving her so much. And what was she giving him in return? Her body. A shared laugh. But not her heart. Love was fleeting and, from her parents’ examples, led to unhappiness. Gemma’s words about what dating was came back to her. They hadn’t set boundaries between them. He called it dating. She…She didn’t know. Labels and declarations scared her.
Trent crossed his arms over his chest and faced the court.
Impulsively, Cora rose onto her toes and kissed his cheek.
One of the players hooted. Someone else whistled.
Trent’s lips twitched upward, almost to the set of his wickedly crooked smile. Those eyes didn’t turn back to her. “Subs!” Trent made substitutions, calling Hugh back to the court.
Cora moved behind Trent to wave Randy and Berto toward the bleachers. She returned her attention to the court. Irving was putting more pep in his step. Her mind jumped to a conclusion. “He’s butt-hurt.”
“Who?” Trent asked without looking at her.
“Irving. He gets no ego stroking from you. He’s probably never been low man on the totem pole before. Mimi flirted with him and look how he upped his game. Think of what he’d do if you gave him some positive reinforcement.”
He bent, resting his hands on his knees. “I don’t baby my players. And I’m not making him a captain to stroke his ego. He has to earn his place. This is not recreational ball where every participant earns a trophy.”
A basketball rim reverberated. Male whoops filled the air. Players were high-fiving the bearded one. Irving’s smile was clearly visible beneath all that wild hair.
“Duck Dynasty got air.” Evan grinned as he ran by.
Cora started chuckling. “You owe me, Reverend. No one works as fast as the Dooley Foundation.”
Behind her, Gemma and Mimi laughed.
“You owe me.” Trent glanced over his shoulder at her. “For letting Randy out to play with Gemma.” She’d told him about the budding romance in the Twittersphere. “But you especially owe me after what I endured from Mikey.”
Those words – You owe me. They stuck with Cora as she watched Mimi’s beauty steal the words from Randy, but not his ability to stare at Gemma and her newfound cleavage.
Poor schmucks. They were headed for heartbreak. Practice dating was much safer.
Chap
ter 27
The team was in a huddle early Friday afternoon when the door to the gym opened and a small, brown-skinned man wearing baggy orange pants led in several scantily clad, beautiful women. He waved a hand and the women began a sexy walk of the court perimeter.
The man’s face was familiar. It filled a billboard on Wilshire. Trent couldn’t remember his name, but the billboard promised great sex. When Cora warned Trent about celebrities, he’d never expected they’d start dropping by unexpectedly. Two in one day?
“Oh, mighty ones,” the little man said. “I am here to help you.”
Before Trent could say anything, Evan pushed through the huddle. “Senge, you can’t be here.”
Evan was on a first name basis with the pimp?
The women had nearly reached the team.
“I have an invitation from Mrs. Gordon to teach the Flash how to achieve heaven.” Senge smiled gently at Evan. “But I had forgotten you and the tall one were already disciples.”
“Which tall one?” Antoine asked excitedly. “Ren or Hugh?”
“Not the bearded one.” Senge giggled. “My graduates may contemplate their desires, while we demonstrate the poses and breathing techniques best suited for sustaining inner pleasure.” He gestured again. The women circled the team, hips swaying provocatively.
“There will be no orgies performed on this court!” Trent had enough.
“As you wish, mighty sir. I can see that your chakras are in line with the benefits of good, regular sex.”
“Out!” Trent pointed to the door amidst the chuckles and disappointed glances of the team.
Senge indicated with a small hand gesture that the women retreat. Trent hoped they wouldn’t start stripping as they did so. “I will extend a twenty-four hour offer. Any Flash member may come to Wicked Tantric during that time. All fees waived, compliments of Mrs. Gordon and the Dooley Foundation.”
Trent glared at Senge until he left.
Antoine elbowed Ren. “Was his advice worth it? I can go tonight after game film and then maybe hit the club with my new secret powers.”
“No one is going to Wicked Tantric.” Trent gestured toward the court. “Now get out there and loosen up with three hundred shots.”
Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015 Page 27