Love In the Red Zone (Connecticut Kings Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  Stenton scratched his eyebrow, eyes lined with humor. “Nah, bruh. Never negotiated that.”

  “Please. Me either.” Tynisha snorted. “That may be true for one person here, but I see money everywhere else.” Was that jab meant for me? “I remember I had to beg Zoey to get a damn maid. You can tell when people new money. They don’t know how to use it.”

  “And how old exactly is your money, Ty?” Zoey asked with a lifted brow. “Because if I’m not mistaken, you just came into some within the past ten years or so. And you never told me your parents had money.”

  “You know what I mean,” Tynisha fired back; her wings had been clipped.

  “You knew what you meant. Not me, Ty. Be nice. Nobody like snobs.” She issued her friend a cautious glare as Alton laughed.

  My eyes shot to Trent, whose wink confirmed Zoey’s jab was for me. She was taking up for me.

  “And when did yo’ ass ever offer to do more than sit your lil ass down with your feet up, Al?” Tynisha turned her wrath to her husband. “I wish I ain’t have to pay so much for the help we got!”

  Alton’s head snapped back and his face wrinkled. “You paying? What?” He raised his upturned palms in the air. “Like I bring in pennies or some shit. You ain’t the only one the network cutting a check for! I ‘on’t work, Nisha?”

  Tynisha was done with the topic. She rolled her eyes under the brim of her hat and went back to her cell phone.

  “You’re up, J,” Trent kneed me. “You want me to come with you?”

  I shook my head, went up for my turn, and bowled my first strike. I couldn’t contain my excitement as I turned to look for Trent. He was right there, just a few feet away. I ran and jumped on him.

  “Congrats, little one.” He spun me in his arms.

  “I see you get your practice in, in that installed alley at the crib, Jada!” Alton spoke over the music.

  My eyes flew to Trent once on my feet. His regard went elsewhere.

  “That shit is lit! I remember when he first got it built. Yo, the wild shit we got into in them days, yo.” I could see Stenton slap his forehead, bracing himself. “Remember when you and Johnson threw that party when everybody had to wear only G-strings? Yo, on the way over I asked StentRo, ‘What type of gay shit is this?’ Bro! When I stepped in that bitch and saw all them damn titties and asses, I was blind to the niggas’ asses. That party was off the damn chain!”

  I turned to face Trent. His face was to the ground as he shook his head, denying Alton’s claims. Stenton basically followed suit, hiding his smile. Zoey’s eyes were big as she followed the story.

  “When was this party—” Tynisha tried asking.

  “That ain’t the point!”—Alton quickly brushed past that setup question—“Yo! Remember the other one they had when TB had it decorated like a strip club with poles and shit? And when he came out dancing, I fell the fuck out! ‘Dem bitches was in line to ride that damn bull! I pulled up a chair right next to his, sat my ass down, and motioned for them to form a line to come get this, man! Then Jordan started shooting crisp dollar bills from that blow machine. Them bitches went cur-aye-zee!” he sang. “That shit didn’t end till the next night. ‘Memba that, StentRo?”

  “Again I ask: when the hell was this?” Tynisha demanded.

  She and Alton began going back and forth about the subject while Zoey and Stenton snickered on the sideline. I knew they were older than Trent, but in that moment, Alton’s pint size frame appeared as a teen, trying to hang with his big brothers. He couldn’t filter what was appropriate to discuss in front of the ladies. Trent bowled his turn and when he returned to his seat, he placed his head on my neck. As soon as I was comfortable with the idea of him finally being true to form and getting sleepy, Alton called him out.

  “Nah! Don’t try that innocent church boy act now, nigga! Yo, Jada, did you know TB a stripper, too?”

  I gasped, but found it funny.

  “Yo, chill, Al,” Stenton tried. “This is a real date for them.”

  Alton laughed. “Fuck that! Did you know his stage name is Shoot ‘Em Up, sweetheart?”

  Wait…

  My eyes shot over to Trent, though his head was on my shoulder and I couldn’t see his. All of a sudden he’d convinced me.

  “See! See! She ain’t know! C’mon, son-son, you rolling out your talents slowly? That’s one of them traits you should give first. Like: Shit, I can fuck!” Alton slapped his palms together and cracked up.

  “You were a stripper?” I spoke low for privacy. Trent shook his head, but didn’t speak. “Wait! Are you being shy?”

  “Like hell he is. Trust me, bands’ll make this dude dance. Ask StentRo.”

  I glanced over to Stenton. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hide his amusement, too. “Shoot ‘Em Up!” he shouted Trent out. “It’s the CMD way!”

  I didn’t know what that meant. I’d seen Trent move a little in victory when he’d win a PlayStation game against Kyree. He had some swag with his movements, but so did lots of athletes. A stripper is a different type of dancer.

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed about not knowing how to dance,” I whispered.

  “Hold up.” Alton jumped to his feet. “You got her staying with you rent free and you ain’t getting the ass, man!” he charged rather than asked.

  Trent sat up and raised his index finger. “First, mind your damn business, shorts,” he spoke to Alton. “Second,” He raised his other to me, “Shoot ‘Em Up has absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. My shit correct, little one.”

  “Ah, shit!” Alton jumped up and down. He looked frantically across the place. “Where the people? We need the D.J. and a chair.” He scurried off.

  “You done got him started,” Stenton warned, laughing.

  “Which one?” Zoey echoed the question.

  “Both,” he replied.

  Alton came back with a chair, placing it just before the runway. The music died around us.

  “Ah, man.” Trent exhaled. “This guy’s serious.”

  “You should’ve known,” Tynisha grumbled.

  Luke’s I Wanna Rock began to stream from the speakers.

  “Hell no!” Alton yelled into the air. The track dropped. “I said something sexy for a stripper. We don’t want that predictable shit for Shoot ‘Em Up!”

  Stenton and Trent laughed senselessly. Stenton’s long frame lay out over his wife. Trent sat up and started unlacing his bowling shoes.

  “This dude…,” he mumbled, gaiting over toward his Timbs. “Always starting shit.”

  “Come sit, Jada,” Alton demanded, still using the wrong name, I was sure purposely at this point. Alton Alston didn’t give a shit about anything. “I’mma show you who that church boy really is.” I hopped down the platform steps and sat in the chair. “Aye, TB,” he shouted loud over to Trent, “you gonna thank me later, man!”

  It was still quiet when Trent came down and stood a few feet away from me. A trace of hesitation on his face, yet he was going for it. So why was I so nervous? Alton’s little arms reached up and rubbed Trent’s round shoulders, mimicking a trainer. He whispered something to him that Trent fought against laughing.

  “Aye, yo, D.J.!” Alton shouted. “Something now!”

  Stenton and Zoey laughed mindlessly from their seats. Tynisha sat with her fist propped under her chin, looking bored and annoyed. I was too anxious to be put off.

  I heard what resembled underwater sounds, of what I wasn’t sure. Alton was still whispering in Trent’s ear as he watched me. Then the beat dropped. A strange changing of his pupils began taking place: they were darkening. All humor was gone. My heart pounded, I was sure out loud. I’d never heard the song, but I recognized R. Kelly’s vocals. Trent’s lips parted as his eyes bore into me. To be a good sport, I motioned with my index finger for him to come.

  Out of nowhere, Trent dropped to the floor and slid fluidly over to me on only one knee. He landed at my lap and stretched my thighs open at the knees. The moveme
nt so quick, it scared the living shit out of me.

  “That’s right!” I could hear Alton shout. “Magic Mike her lil’ ass, TB!”

  Trent rolled his head in between my thighs suggestively, managing not to touch me. He leaned back to sit on his heels and held his palms facing up. That’s when his long and wide tongue flipped out and his neck rolled in a rapid swooping motion, mimicking him eating… Me? He jumped to his feet on beat and with flash quickness. His waist began to roll as he thrust his pelvis in the air. Trent slowly pulled up his thermal shirt from over his head and used it to mimic his penis before tossing it in my face. I snatched it down quickly, realizing he was going for his t-shirt next. That’s when I realized this was a real stripper’s dance. I wanted to see it all.

  When that came off, he tossed it to the side and gyrated low to the floor, his abs rolling like a mechanical machine on the way down. He ended up with one hand on the floor and the other on his raised knee cap as he gyrated his pelvis in the air again. Oh! My! God! Trent’s waist seemed to be a totally detached body part, that’s how sinuously it rolled in the air. He leaped to his feet and encouraged the audience to clap at the rhythm of the pre-chorus. Once the beat dropped, he leaped into the air and literally floated onto the back of my chair where he balanced himself on the back handle, swung his crotch in my face, and pumped. I mean, in my face. He was so close I could feel his erection against my nose.

  He swung his body in the air until his pelvis was square in my face and rubbed against it as he descended onto my lap. That’s when I got my first lap dance. His pelvis, abs, and chest rolled vertically between my face, breasts, and lap. My temperature spiked, and I could feel the glop of desire as it left my sex. Trent’s face was hard and blank as he rolled back on my lap, using my weave as anchor. He clutched my hair as he grinded backward with his head and back leaning toward the floor, but his hard dick rolled in my face, breasts, and lap. The song went to climax and that’s when everything sped up.

  One second I was in my seat, carefully trying to follow his every rapid and high sensual movements. And the next, I was up on my feet, bent over the chair with my hips spread wide as Trent pelted into me. My spine held against the heavy successions, but my eyes collapsed at the implication.

  My word!

  Trent could fuck if his technique was anything like this.

  R. Kelly sang, “Murder, murder!” rapidly and rhythmically, and I fought to keep the top of my head from beating into the back of the chair. Trent impaled my ass that strongly and quickly. It was as though he was shooting damn bombs from his cock. My spine shivered. I couldn’t believe I was so wrapped up in eroticism with people watching. I was definitely aware. Nonetheless, my body’s reaction was so unexpected and inclined to meld into Trent’s every maneuver. Each move he made was lewd and so was my body’s reception to it. At one point, my feet were off the floor and my hands gripping the seat of the chair.

  He flipped me onto the floor and I landed on my back. My legs were pushed into the air and his body rolled gracefully from my head to pelvis, in between my thighs. I slapped my hands over my eyes when I realized he was mimicking eating and fucking me. Damn, Trent! This went on until the track ended.

  Trent helped me to my feet, his eyes examining me from head to toe while his face was contorted, channeling something unknown. Then his regard went up over my head. My hands patted my hair.

  My weave!

  The screams and applause from the small group made me want to crawl into a hole. I was publicly aroused and sure everyone in the building knew. It was a man down situation. I wanted him now more than ever. I knew from the moment this was over until we came to some type of agreement, I was in trouble.

  New music began streaming out of nowhere. The guys rushed the floor to Trent in boisterous affirmation. He received them somehow as he went about picking up his shirts. I turned, ashamed of my ruffled appearance.

  “Holy mother of Joseph!” I heard from behind me. “Are you okay?” Zoey wrapped her arm around me. Her cheeks heated and smile was bright, showing the same excitement as the guys.

  I tried to nod.

  “Yeah…you gonna need this.” I felt a poke at my shoulder. It was Tynisha handing me a wide-tooth comb before turning right back around and strutting to the sofa. “Alton, bring your ass. I gotta get up early for hair and makeup. We shoot in the morning!”

  “She’s going home to let off the steam you and Trent built down here,” Zoey whispered. I couldn’t help a sheepish giggle. “Girl, no need to be prudish, I’m going home to let it rip after that! That was hot! Who knew?”

  I sure as hell didn’t, and I live with the man.

  “That was insane,” I murmured while trying to comb my hair into a decent style. “That’s all I know!”

  Zoey laughed. “Come on. They’re going to kick us out. Our time is up now.”

  ~Nine

  The ride home was crazy quiet and long as hell. Jade hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the bowling alley. I believed if there was fault to lay it would be on me for getting so loose and letting Al gas my head. I ain’t never been no damn stripper. It was just some shit I picked up from my uncles and cousins who stripped at mad places like Club Escape, back in Camden when I was kid. I spent a lot of idle time with them when I didn’t have shit else to do. And outside of football, I ain’t have shit else to do…that was legal, anyway. Some things stick to the psyche, and that was one of them. I only did shit like that to entertain my friends as I entertained the ladies, and vice versa.

  But this was different. I liked this girl. A lot. I didn’t want her thinking I was some damn horny clown. I wasn’t a cornball who took center stage to make his friends laugh. And more than that, my agreeing to dance for her backfired: I now wanted her more than ever. I could literally smell her arousal when I grinded on her. Throwing her face into my cock made me painfully hard. I knew Jade well enough to know what she was working with as far as her head game. Sex was a different matter, though I had no doubt that would be interesting, too.

  Damn!

  I wanted to smack the steering wheel. What the hell I get myself into? One thing was for damn sure: I couldn’t share my bed with her tonight. No way! Unless I was buried balls deep inside her, there was no way I would torture myself with that proximity. I could sleep in Kyree’s room. The hell with that.

  We pulled into the garage and Jade walked into the house first, still not saying shit. I rubbed my face roughly with my palms. I didn’t know what to say or do. I just wanted to do the right thing. And I wanted her.

  She stopped in the wash room to take off her coat and booties. I pulled out of my goose, kicked off my Timbs by the door, and found myself following behind her little ass again. She pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and strutted on her toes out into the hall.

  “You going to bed?”

  “It’s late,” she answered without turning back to look at me.

  I stayed on her heels, watching the faint small of her back from her belly shirt vibrate with every step she took. She was mad, probably just as frustrated as I was. When she hit the middle of the stairway I couldn’t take it.

  “Hold up, J!” I called out from the bottom, gripping the rounded end of the banister.

  She stopped, but didn’t turn to face me.

  “Shit, man, I want this, too,” I just came with it. No damn pretenses. I wanted her.

  She exhaled, her eyes to the top of the landing. “You’ve said that. Like a gazillion times, Trent. Mind telling me something new?”

  I let out a heavy breath myself. I just wanna do the right thing.

  Well, it’s do or die, man…

  “Fuck this…” I swore underneath my breath then leaped up the stairs, taking three at a time.

  I was on her ass in two seconds, could hear the air pushed from her lungs when her back hit the wall. The bottle of water dropped from her hands and bounced down the stairs. I threw my tongue in her mouth and swiped until I found hers. I sucked on it, pulling he
r arms above her head. I tasted her thick, faintly painted lips while I found the zipper on her shirt and yanked it down. My mouth traced the open trail. Fuck! She was so short and soft, smelled sweet, and tasted even better. My hand fought with her belt, and my greedy mouth sucked her hard nipples through the lace of her bra.

  Jade made noises that stirred my need for her. I could tell she tried to stay quiet, but I didn’t want her to. I wanted to drown in everything she had. Suddenly, her jeans were open and I was pushing them down. She helped, kicking them off. In haste, she slipped, almost falling after her jeans, but I caught her little ass and placed it on the step. Needing her fully naked, I unclipped and pulled off her bra.

  Damn…

  I knew what she was hitting at in general: I’d seen her nipples enough through little ass shirts around the house. But… Her tits looked even better nude. They were an easy D cup with wide ass brown areolas. Jade pushed at her matching brown panties first, her mouth parted, and she breathed heavily. I smacked her hands away and pulled them down her legs. I got a nice waft of her pussy. I knew that scent. Had been tortured by it for a minute now with her sharing my bed and eventually tasting it, losing my damn mind. My dick pushed against my briefs, begging for a peek, too. I swiped over her mound, and she automatically spread her thighs for me to do more. Her hair was cut low, and I could see her shade of pink between her labia. My hand swiped there, too.

  Muthafuckin…

  It felt like gel. Jade was so wet, I wondered how often she’d walked around my house this aroused. She was hurting me at every discovery of her. Her head fell back, rocked from side to side as she let go of a soft cry. I reared, moving down a few steps until my head was at her torso level. I placed my hands aside her, covering her little frame and then some. My tongue knocked against her right nipple, back and forth, back and forth, until I sucked in as much of her boob that could fit my mouth. She made the slushing sound with her mouth, arching her back to feed me.