Love In the Red Zone (Connecticut Kings Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  “Mmmmmm…” I moaned at the thought of what the visual must have been.

  My eyes squeezed closed as I focused on what he was doing to me with his mouth. Who knew Trent had this side to him? I knew he was no virgin, but he’d always drawn the line at our sexual chemistry. And now he was sucking on my clit, creating the most erotic sound I’d ever heard. My butt bounced in the air, my nipples rubbed against the lace of the lingerie, and his mouth moved with unapologetic perversion that I knew would change my sexuality from this night on. I felt desired, lusted after, and like an instrument being used to entertain this big, stubborn, and deliriously sexy man whose interest I’d been trying to gain since moving in.

  My groin tightened, pulse pounded, lungs seized, and every cell of my body titillated to a pinnacle until I imploded. My hands slipped from his big hands and quickly, Trent caught me at the waist, plunging my core in his mouth, effectively aggressive with his knowledge of my orgasmic state.

  “Oh!” I screamed over him, mouth open wide, and shoulders caving.

  My life changed in the span of seconds. As he fed my sex to his busy mouth, I felt it. My soul shifted in a manner I didn’t know possible. I was weakened by him. Opened to him in a way that was intense, but unique to only Trenton Bailey. Pleasure danced on every fiber of my being and wouldn’t stop, just like his insurmountable strength that controlled the rhythm of my pouring. I was lost to him, helplessly, willingly, totally.

  At some point, I was laid on my back, stretched out on the sofa, fighting to regain my wits and breathing. I was over-stimulated and excited by the prospect of more. We’d finally made it. Trent and I were finally here. I’d finally had his trust and desire, and was ready to meet him there.

  I sat up, still breathing erratically, and shuffled to my knees over to him. Trent was sprawled out at the end of the sofa. His head was tossed back and his hand covered his eyes. His dick conspicuous with need as it pushed through his basketball shorts, struggling for freedom. I went there first. My greedy hands pushed to the elastic band, pulling it back while swallowing back evidence of my expectation of having him in my mouth again. Just as I pulled back enough to see the bed of his silky hairs, Trent’s big hands covered mine.

  My impatient eyes shot up to him for answers. Slowly, Trent’s head rose from the back of the sofa and his eyes opened to a familiar conflict I knew all too well. He shook his head.

  “We—” He swallowed, my excitement glistening around his mouth. “Not like this. We can’t do it like this. It’s not—”

  He didn’t continue. Trent stood to his feet and faced me with slanted eyes I was sure were similar to mine. His thumb caressed my cheek adoringly as he peered into me, regretful eyes searing me in half. Burning me. Trent strolled off and out of the room, leaving me on my knees in heavy arousal, confused, and hurt. The jab of rejection pounded over me, the blows beating my sensitive skin. I curled into the fetal position, suddenly feeling raw, vulnerable, and dejected. Once again, Trent allowed me to open myself to him physically and emotionally, only to tell me he didn’t trust me.

  I loved him. I knew from the moment he left me in my most vulnerable despair that I loved this man hopelessly and pathetically. I knew because the countless times Ryshon betrayed and hurt me, he’d never disappointed me to the degree that Trent just had by not choosing me. I didn’t understand him. He wanted me as bad as I wanted him. I could tell by the way his muscles flexed at my touch. But he wouldn’t fall into the moment with me. Ever. Something held him back, burning me each and every time.

  ~Eight

  “So,” she sighed, lifting from a squatting position as Kyree ran up the steps for his things. She turned to me with a megawatt smile and gleaming eyes fanned by long lashes that charmed the masses. “How’s it going with Trent?”

  My brows hiked, completely caught off guard. I had a flash pout and squint as I quickly contemplated how I’d answer that personal and very private question.

  “We’re…” I hummed in hesitation, not to giving her truth, but still stunned by how she could feel so comfortable asking me that. “Great.” I smiled tightly, rocking on my heels with my fingers stuffed into the pockets of my jeans.

  “Just great?” Her eyes widened with one hiked brow, her smile just as diagonal. She gestured with her neck. “Come. I’d like to have a word with you in private.”

  Private? We were down in the vestibule alone. And a word? For what?

  My mother only stepped a few feet into the formal living room, just off the foyer before speaking with a delicate murmur.

  “I’ve been thinking about you and Trent and would like to offer an ear if you need experienced influence. I understand men of wealth and how demanding their world is, how difficult their social circles are to navigate. If you have any questions or just want someone to listen, I’m here, Jade.”

  My face held expressionless. I would never share about my relationship with Trent—if I were to ever get a relationship with Trent. Not only was he super private, but I wouldn’t allow Chéri McDowell another opportunity to highlight a new imperfection of mine. She would chop at my ego about not being able to keep a man, and especially one like Trent. She didn’t even know he wasn’t exactly rich anymore. She was the reason I’d been struggling with my self-image, never feeling good enough. Indirectly, but certainly with strong correlation, she was behind why I was hanging on to him by mere threads, because of my insane need to fuck him in order to feel close to him.

  It was laughable imagining me telling her about his umpteenth rejection last night. Would she believe I went down on him weeks after being invited to stay in his home along with my homeless child? She certainly would find humor in the fact that I snuck into his bed every night, prying for intimate conversations to gain his trust and then his heart. And last night… How would she react if she knew he wouldn’t even fuck me after putting me in sexy, expensive lingerie? I’d laugh right along with her about that one.

  “What makes you think I need assistance?” I asked curiously.

  Was something said in their church?

  “Oh, dear…no!” She expressed her revelation of me being offended with a dainty touch of her neck as she gasped. “It’s just I know you haven’t been in an adult relationship. The one with Kyree’s father was…” She hesitated. “Let’s just say you were a child yourself. Trenton is of a different caliber. He needs special hands for his holdings, is all.”

  She still couldn’t refer to Ryshon by his name. I could accept that. I’d disappointed her dreams for me at his ill-advised side. But my mother had no idea if I’d experienced another love after because she stopped speaking to me. For years.

  I swallowed hard, swiped my tongue over my bottom lip. “Mom, it’s been a long day. Now’s not a good time…” Or ever.

  She bowed her neck slightly, lowering her lids momentarily. “It was a never-expiring offer. I know how difficult the pursuit of a strong foundation in a relationship is.”

  I nodded, unable to look at her.

  I was exhausted. This was exhausting. After the long six-hour day I had giving mani’s and pedi’s to a bridal party all day, I just wanted to go back to Alpine, soak in the tub, and sleep in any bed. Not only was my day spent hunched over chatty girlfriends cackling about old sex, new sex, good sex, lazy sex, scandalous sex, and bad sex, I decided sex played the backdrop of my thoughts too much lately and I needed a break. I also decided I would go to Pennsylvania with Ryshon’s family just as a means of putting needed distance between Trent and me.

  Kyree started down the stairs; timely, breaking this bootleg kumbaya moment my mother tried manufacturing.

  My face lit up. “Got everything?”

  “Yup,” he assured on the way down, coat unfastened.

  “Would you like for Ginger to pack food to go? I know you’ve worked all day,” she offered.

  I received Ky in my arms, pulling him into me for a much needed embrace. I gathered strength from these little arms on many days.

  “No than
ks,” I declined on a strain, hugging him. I released Kyree and absorbed his cute smile. “I actually cooked dinner before work today. Can’t wait to dig into that.”

  “Oh, wow!” She clutched her neck again, seemingly pleased. “I’m impressed, honey,” she confirmed how well I knew her snootiness. Those green eyes with hazel specs dazzled in amazement.

  “Well, five years of homemaking school has paid off.” I patted Ky’s hand, wanting to add something about Ginger’s guidance in the kitchen, but didn’t want to upset her. No matter that she was unable to totally change her aristocratic stripes, I still felt she’d been trying to build a bridge between us. I much preferred the bridge being Kyree and not my romantic relationship or lack thereof. “Thanks for this. He really enjoys you, George, and Ginger.”

  “We enjoy him, too, dear.” She bent to kiss Kyree. That act pulled on my heart. No air kisses, pure intimacy as her painted lips touched his soft flesh. “Hopefully again soon. Okay, bud?”

  He smiled a closed mouth one and nodded. We took off for Alpine, and four minutes into the ride, Ky was out. I snickered, and decided to be grateful for the quiet time. Once inside the house, I went straight into warming up dinner. Kyree took the back steps up to look for Trent, whose pickup was parked in the garage. I called them down when the food was ready and we chowed down together, Trent and Ky in the mix of their own world.

  Later that night, after I put Kyree down, I showered in the bathroom off his bedroom and threw on a t-shirt, panties and shorts. By the time I made it to Trent’s room, he was lying in bed, tossing a ball in the air.

  “What’s good,” he greeted.

  I sat on the edge of the bed. “Nothing much.” I yawned. “I’m tired. Gonna turn in early.”

  I felt him shifting on the mattress, making room for me on my side.

  I shook my head, my back still to him. “I’m going back in there with Ky.” Preparing myself, I took a quick silent breath. “I’m going to let Ky go with his father’s family for Christmas, up in Allentown.”

  “Yeah?” I heard the ball slamming into his palms. “That’s what’s up. I know that was a hard decision for you.”

  “Yeah. What made it easier is me going with him.” Silence shrouded the room. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. Taking a deep breath to calm my unnecessary and uninvited nerves, I shrugged. “It’s just for three days. We can leave if things get uncomfortable.”

  “Yeah…yeah. It’s a bet.” His sputtering echoed in against the walls.

  “Okay. Night, Trent.” After realizing he had no more words, I lifted from the bed and padded for the hall.

  “Yo, Jade,” he called after me as I made it to the doorframe.

  I cast a gaze over my right shoulder, acknowledging him.

  “Your two sexual encounters… Were you in love with them?”

  I turned back toward the hall. “No,” I muttered, answering him truthfully with a shake of the head.

  She thought she would trap me with threatening to go away with her baby’s daddy’s peoples for Christmas. What Little Miss Stealthy didn’t know was I could not be manipulated, especially over no ass. I was not led by my dick, and though most men were, a woman had to choose a new method of game to get me. That was my attitude for the first day and a half after Jade and Kyree left for Pennsylvania. Then my resolve did a flip and landed on a different leg.

  “Bro!” I heard called from the end of the hall. “What the fuck…”

  Alton Alston, Point Guard for the 76ers, stopped in his tracks abruptly as I was sorting my clothes in the laundry room. His face dropped as though he saw something scandalous. After a few seconds of returning his hard scowl, I lifted my brows to counter him.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Nah—no… I mean, yeah,” Alton stammered, in a stupor of sorts. “The fuck you doing, bro?” His five foot, six-inch frame glided into the room, approaching me cautiously. He lifted a pair of my basketball shorts with two fingers from the hamper filled with my dirty clothes, bringing them to my face and dropped them back into the basket unceremoniously. “What. The. Fuck. Bro? You need to get a bitch for this domestic shit. You got more important stuff to do!”

  I hiked a brow, reaching for the next handful of clothes to dump in the washing machine. “Like what? Beat you in Madden?”

  “Yeah, whatever.” He waved me off. “I’m just saying. Get a woman. I get you were on the crazy side before.” Leave it to Al to make light of depression, but he was compassionate about the topic. Athletes understood the misfortune of getting fired and going broke as a result. “But damn, man, you can get a beard in here to fuck and feed you.” He turned, pouting worse than Ky.

  “Yeah?” I snorted. “So, I can’t cook for myself?”

  “You can—shit, that spaghetti and chicken parm was bangin’ as fuck—but you ain’t gotta. No man’s food should taste that good because they shouldn’t have the practice time needed to get so good at it. Cooking and all matters of the house is a woman’s responsibility. Period!” He swiped his arm in the air for emphasis. “And find one that knows how to play behind ya balls. And the right way; no penetration, my nigga.”

  I scoffed. “I don’t need a woman to cook and clean. Even before I got locked up, I did my own laundry sometimes…cooked sometimes. You gotta know how to fend for yourself. My housekeeper wasn’t always on duty.”

  “That’s why you need two, and one need to be a live in. Take it from me, big homie. I tried telling StentRo’s ass. This a man’s world. You rich enough to make a bitch follow tradition. My dick may think, but my money talk, bro.”

  “You know damn well if Tynisha was here, you wouldn’t be talking that shit.” I chuckled, spreading the clothes around in the bowl of the washing machine to make room.

  “I pay for her to not have to assume her natural born role. Other than fuckin’ me right, Nisha ain’t got no real responsibilities.”

  “Don’t forget bringing in coins, too.”

  Tynisha was his wife, a fashion consultant turned reality television star. Her show had been running for almost ten years, making it one of the most popular. That all equated to dollars and cents on her own merit.

  “Man, fuck that. Nisha got that show on the strength of me. The world watches Taking Tips from Tynisha to learn how to snag a paid baller like Alton Alston.” He grabbed his sack. “Don’t get that shit twisted, nigga!”

  I busted out laughing at his little ass. His ego had been pricked with that one.

  “I’m just saying, your life doesn’t reflect your advice. I’m good, playa.”

  I finally made it down to my sheets and pulled the flat one out to shake before putting it in the machine. When I did the same with the fitted one, something flew in the air from the fold of it. It caught Al’s attention because he was the first to go for it. He held up the lavender lace panties, twirling them on his index finger in the air.

  “Yeah, bitch!” He laughed. “Who ain’t getting no pussy? Who ‘on’t need no twat to survive in this male driven world, bih!”

  Something in my damn belly leaped and my feet did the same and lunged at his little ass to grab the panties. Good thing I was quick, and successful at getting them. For some reason, I studied the panties as Al laughed his ass off, holding on to the countertop for support. I stood in place, dazed from the sight of her brashness.

  “I’m looking for evidence of your woman.”

  “Maaan! What woman?”

  “The one that wants me to know she exists. She’ll let me know by leaving her shoes in a corner, combs or hair clips in the bathroom drawer. Or the ones who want your wife to know about her, by leaving her soiled panties in your sheets.”

  My head began to spin with too many possibilities: being tricked, plotted on, pranked, or maybe this was an honest accident. Couldn’t have been. We hadn’t slept with each other to have her panties off in my bed. Most times, Jade didn’t wear panties. She said herself she didn’t like to sleep in them, which was why she never slept with Kyree unless he
was sick. That only left one possibility…

  She did this on purpose!

  But when? That last night, Jade didn’t lay in bed. She even wore shorts, something I hadn’t seen since the first few of weeks of her moving in. This was planted for an undated time. Jade wasn’t only calculating with the panty-find: she left enough spaghetti—my favorite meal—and other foods to last me a few days while she was gone.

  Still dazed from my internal musings, I slowly stuffed the panties in my back pocket and tossed the sheet in the wash to finally start the cycle. A gradual and heated smiled spread across my face. I couldn’t help it if I tried. That ballsy, fiery, sneaky girl was going to get me in some deep shit. And for once, that revelation did scare me.

  “Damn, bro!” Al held his chest. “At least I know you can’t make good ass food like that. I was startin’ to wonder.” He threw me a suspect gaze before making a dramatic exit out of the room.

  “I missed you, Jade,” he whispered into my mouth.

  My body hiked in the air, feather-weight, against the wall. My legs wrapped around his tapered waist, his thick cock swelled rigidly with the root pressed into my throbbing sex, and the body and head between our bellies. I’d just walked out from putting Ky down for bed after the long ride back to Jersey. I was going to get his toys from the trunk when I was accosted the moment I closed the door.

  There was an unusual yet familiar gleam in Trent’s eyes and somber in the expression of his lips. He was disturbingly sexy shirtless, wearing a red baseball cap with the brim to the back, basketball shorts, and Timbs.

  “What did you miss?” I asked with heavy lids, exhausted from the day and revved up by the ease of his sentiment.

  “Everything.” Trent inhaled deeply. “The smell of your weave.” A wry smile curved his lips, telling how hard it was to admit that.

  This was strange, but warm. Had I made the right call by going away with Kyree and his father’s family to give Trent and me needed space? Pressing my forehead against his, I lifted my locs from behind my shoulders, gathered them in my hands, and created a tent over his head and mine.