Love In the Red Zone (Connecticut Kings Book 1)

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Love In the Red Zone (Connecticut Kings Book 1) Page 25

by Love Belvin


  ~Eleven

  They jiggled after they bounced…

  Perfect oval shapes with a sensual curve in the lower halves. The peaks, a russet shade with a small mole planted on the areola of the left one. I tried focusing on it, but my greedy eyes wanted to see the big picture. Her tits were perfect…and real. I’d been with enough women to be well versed with artificial boobs. But goddamn, Jade’s were lecherous in size and sinful in functionality. When my dick was wedged in between them last night they cushioned me, packed me in with a grip tight enough to have me busting on her chin when she didn’t move fast enough to catch me in her mouth.

  My phone rang on the nightstand next to the bed while I watched with heavy lids in the early morning hour as Jade rode me into a drunken haze. She never got tired, like a damn battery was attached to her spine. My girl loved to fuck. It was a pastime I had to grow comfortable with. She said she did it for me and only me, but her enthusiasm for it made me wonder if she shared the same level of zeal with another man. We fell asleep rubbing against each other. My last thoughts were how my wood was still lodged inside her, while she softly snored, her arm slung over me to make sure I didn’t move. She was still at it this morning.

  I woke up to her little hands and naughty mouth all over my chest and abs. When I opened my eyes, Jade was on top of me, riding shot gun. Her wavy hair hung low against her back and shoulders, framing her breasts as she wore a Kings baseball cap tilted to the side. A black satin robe swathed her naked frame, giving her a costumed appearance. Jade was extreme and expressive with her body. What she believed to be a method of keeping me faithful to her, was a worthless attempt at best, because after experiencing her passion, my ass was done. There was no way I could view sex the same. She used sex to trap me, but not for my wallet or my potential to fatten my wallet. She used sex to create a special place in my heart. To connect with me on a level she feared someone else might be doing. Like now, as we played a game of me holding out from blasting off until she told me she’s done, she said I couldn’t use my hands. These are the types of games she played. And while I knew her motive was to fuck me to exhaustion before I left for Connecticut, I couldn’t deny her petty head trip. I wanted it. Wanted her. I realized Jade was a damn temptress and I’d become addicted to her beyond her fervent twat.

  She moaned, tightening around me. Her pussy creaming even more. Another one. I bit my lip, preparing to intensify her take off. I swung my hips upward to have her lift and bounce on my pulsing cock. She bit into her glossy lips—of course she got dolled up before waking me for sex—and hummed. My phone rang again. No way I could answer it. Her tits slapped against her rib cage and as much as I needed to close my eyes from the sensual sight of an enthusiastic lover riding the shit out of my dick, I couldn’t help but take in all of her. Jade swung her head back and sang my name in a higher note than the last time. The sounds from her juicy pussy squeezing me and slamming against my pelvis drove me fucking wild. I found myself biting my own damn lip to keep from blasting the hell off.

  “Trent…tin!”

  Damn, I loved it when she called me by my government while exploding on me. It shot me high into the stratosphere, only thing left to do was blast off to join her. Her arms rose to grip her cap as her belly folded and then shoulders yanked back as she came. That combo act went on and on while she rode out her orgasm. What a sight it was.

  The phone rang again. Again, I ignored it, captivated by the sight before me.

  “You ready?” she breathed, giving me permission to explode. I nodded. “Okay,” she purred. “But still no hands. I wanna see if I can drive you crazy without your help.”

  Damn…

  When she challenged me like that, my pelvis lurched slightly, my dick ready to go. Jade switched positions, bringing her feet astride my hips, and resting her hands on her thighs. My mouth dropped when she started to twerk on my dick. She gave me a view of where we connected. Her fat lips lifting from my throbbing cock, slimed by her excitement for me. Jade bounced up and down rhythmically, giving me a view of her rear cheeks when they rose on my stick. Her slanted eyes rolled up to meet mine. All I could think was this shouldn’t be free. I shouldn’t receive this type of pleasure from a woman who I didn’t lock down in a manner that would make her unavailable to another man.

  Then she crowded me by reaching up to curl her tongue in my mouth. I accepted it greedily, tasting the mint from her earlier brushing while I had been sleeping, reminding me of how she prepared for me. That was Jade’s manner of care for me: she anticipated my needs, precipitated my pleasure all to keep me. If only I could get her to understand she was in a place no other woman ever dwelled, not even my mother. Jade was everything to me, and as her soaked pussy gripped me and her tits slapped against my chest, I pumped into her core until exploding inside her, losing control of the rhythm of my tongue against hers.

  I grunted with paralyzed lips as she continued to lap inside my hanging mouth. She slayed me with the creativity of her body and ability to zone in on me with her mind. I was done: literally and figuratively. My ass hung in the air as I shot my blasting cum into her hungry little cave, and Jade vacuumed it all, the way I liked it. She stayed at it until my ass collapsed back on the mattress.

  When I was able to crack my lids, I saw a rouge smile on her smeared lips. A chuckle launched from the back of my throat. She was clowning my post blast off state. She knew she’d worked me over and wanted to gloat.

  “You did it,” she whispered, out of breath.

  You did it…

  “You and these damn challenges.” My breaths were ragged. “Who comes up with this at…” I glanced over to the clock on the nightstand where my phone rang, ignored again.

  “Six,” she answered for me, giggling.

  “…in the morning!”

  “Mmmmm…” she pouted her lips contemplatively, gazing into the distance behind me. “A woman who hasn’t seen her guy in days because of his job, and won’t see him for a few more days for the same reason. Coming home only one night to take me to a movie and dinner isn’t enough.” A lazy smile brightened her face.

  “Jade…” I groaned, rolling my eyes, believing she was going to hit me with grief about my long hours in training camp.

  She captured my face with her hands and kissed me tenderly. “I know. Big girl panties over here. You just don’t complain about how I choose to spend the little time offered with you. Step your stamina up, bruh,” she mocked me before winking and lifting from over me. “I’m going to get washed up real quick to fix you breakfast before you hit the road.”

  After disconnecting from me, sucking in a breath while doing it, Jade wrapped the robe around herself and left the bed for the bathroom. My chest tightened with each step she took away from me. My lids collapsed at the rising emotion within. Jade had become something more to me than I bargained for when I agreed to this. I didn’t want to fuck up things with her or disappoint God by mishandling her. She deserved more than what I gave her.

  My phone rang again, this time a distinctive tone I set up last fall after signing with the Kings again.

  Shit!

  I leaped from the center of the bed and reached to my right for the phone.

  “Eli…” I answered out of breath.

  “Everything all right?” He sounded concerned.

  My eyes went wild. I was out of breath, but I couldn’t exactly tell my boss I’d just finished blowing my load into my girl. “Nah. It’s gravy. What’s good?”

  I tried calming my lungs, but his call had also alarmed me.

  “Okay,” he delivered with reluctance. “If you’re sure this isn’t a bad time—”

  “Nah… Nah… We’re good. Everything all right with you, big man?”

  “It is—or should I say it would be if what I’m about to share will sit right with you.” My brows hiked. “The paperwork has just been faxed over to Chesney. We’re offering you third string, Trent.”

  My lips pushed into a thoughtful pout. That wa
s the last thing I was expecting.

  “What happened to Krimmer?” He was the third tier the season before.

  “Let’s just say he isn’t the best fit for the 2016 roster. And of course, this opens a spot for you.”

  I didn’t speak because I didn’t know what to say. How do you respond to that? I could tell by the span of time Eli allowed, he was curious about my reaction. I mean… It wasn’t what I wanted, but I didn’t feel the venom of betrayal and anger I did from last fall’s offering. Call it post orgasmic fog, but I didn’t feel the twisting of the knife in my back as I’d expected from the mediocre offering. That led me to quickly wonder why.

  I’d been heavily and impossibly distracted by a force bigger than my beloved football. I mean, don’t get me wrong, not much could top football in my world other than my God. But the past ten months introduced and warmed me to the concept of the world being bigger than the ball, score, endorsements, and surviving the enticing storm of fame. One of the subjects of that force toed from the bathroom, heading to the doors of the master suite in boy shorts and a stingy tank. My world hadn’t ended since I’d been off the field. Though I needed it to feel purposed and charged, I had far more stable factors making me feel secure and whole when the field showed no love.

  That revelation hit me with an alarming blow. With parted lips, my head rocked back.

  “Trent,” Eli called out. “You still there? Instead of you thinking I’m being malicious or punitive about this, I hope you view it as me warming you for your rightful place. You’re on the right path, son. Things are shaping up for our team and you’re preparing for your return—”

  “Nah!” I spoke with widened eyes. “I’m good, Eli. I appreciate this opportunity. I…it’s just…” I exhaled. “I wasn’t expecting this call.”

  “I know it. I was supposed to wait for Pete to call you or Jerry, but…” He hesitated again. “This is personal to me. I want you to understand that.”

  I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I do. Thanks. I ‘preciate that, sir.”

  “I believe you do. Thank you for your patience with us, Trent. Thanks for believing in the invisible vision. But trust me, son, it’s there. Hang on in there with me…you and JJ.”

  I nodded, stunned. “Yes, sir.”

  “I suspect you’ll be headed up soon. I look forward to seeing you this week. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Okay. Have a good one.”

  I disconnected the call and searched my missed call log. There were calls from my lawyer, Chesney, Coach Lou, the Kings general manager, Jerry, and Divine. This was real. I had a job on my team. I collapsed onto the pillows mounded on the bed.

  “Thank you, God,” I whispered with squeezed eyes. “Thank you…”

  My throat closed, fighting down the cry clawing up my belly.

  My eyes danced all around the elegant and luminescent solarium in wonder of the ambiance filling the room. The sun streaming its presence inside, highlighted the chic décor in every detail of its motif. Tables were strategically dispersed, lined with off-white linen, and topped with fine crystals and white peaked-bloomed tulips mixed with tuberoses. My mother’s touch. She loved fresh flowers and it was evident that preference had been passed on to me, considering the fresh snowballs and zinnias I kept in the kitchen and those occupying the bedrooms of Trent’s place. It was my thing, as he’d said.

  I was at one of the largest country clubs in Essex County, a place where my mother made the most use of George’s expensive membership. Today, it was in the name of charity. It was her annual fundraiser for an organization she ran that assisted under privileged young girls with exceptional academic scores with financial aid for college. She actually did much more with the girls, but this particular event was to help with tuition.

  My mother invited me for the first time and I didn’t understand why. When I was a teen, and before I got pregnant with Kyree, she made me work the event in some capacity. A few weeks ago, after church, I received my first invitation from her. I explained I was in no financial position to donate. I knew the plates were upwards of five hundred dollars. She insisted that I come along and bring Kyree. There was a perceptive spirit of sincerity in her approach, so I couldn’t decline, but as I sat absorbing the elegance of the place, I wondered why she would want me here.

  Kyree was off with George somewhere in the country club while I sat waiting for Lashawn, who asked that I arrive early so we could chit chat. I had no idea why when we saw each other, even if briefly, when I dropped Ky off at her place to play with her son. It would always be a quick encounter where I wouldn’t even come inside. I felt awkward and fraudulent sitting here and couldn’t wait for her to arrive so I wouldn’t be the only broke attendee today. Lashawn’s mother, my aunt Magness, would be another plate holder who likely didn’t cover it. She and my mother were pretty tight, but Aunt Magness wasn’t in possession of the same number of bank accounts as my mother, thanks to her successful corporate attorney husband, George.

  “Hey, girl!” I turned and found Lashawn approaching the table, sheer excitement bouncing from her eyes at seeing me.

  Lashawn’s skin tone was lighter than mine, not much different but a glowing almond complexion. Of course she was taller, near five-foot-seven. She wore a fitted floral midi dress with a black background, making her appear smaller than her size six frame was, though she didn’t need it. Shawnie looked good in her open toe slingbacks and black top handle bag that I was sure was Michael Kors, but she rocked it like a Celine. There was something endearing about her simple style. I guessed it was because of her gold-digging ambition. Lashawn always dreamed of marrying a rich man like my mother had to take care of her. What always tickled me was her inability to at least play the role of wealthy diva to attempt to attract that type of man. Today she wore a tapered cut with fiery red hair at the top. I could tell it was freshly done.

  I stood to enfold her in one outstretched arm.

  “You tell me to get here thirty minutes early for you to arrive ten minutes late,” I teased while in her embrace.

  “Girl, Kia had mad people in that salon today and you know I can’t trust nobody else with my do, especially if I’m coming to one of Aunt Cheri’s events.”

  Lashawn was one of very few who pronounced my mother’s name likely the way my mother’s mother intended. She’d say Sherry with a southern curl like pronouncing “cherry” instead of my mother’s preferred Chéri with a short ‘a’ like the French. My mother was nowhere near French, only visited there countless times after I was born. She actually changed the spelling on her birth certificate to solidify the distinction. The change was seamless, seeing she had been introducing herself with the short ‘a’ since a teenager. It was another mark of her pretentiousness.

  “Well, I’m glad you made it. I was getting bored sitting here by myself. You know I hate these stuffy events.”

  “Girl, these bougie fundraisers be giving me all types of life. Making me feel fancy and shit.” She took the seat next to me as she spoke. “But never mind that. Tell me about Trent. You keep with a tight lip about him.”

  I frowned considering that. I didn’t do it intentionally. It’s probably because the man constantly throws me off and I’m never able to keep up with him emotionally.

  “Hmmmmm…” I tapped my chin. “Tell what?”

  Lashawn’s neck popped back and eyes went out. “Biiiiiitch,” she attempted to whisper. “What’s it like being with him. Do you guys go out with other celebrities—” she gasped with inspiration. “You met his bestie, Jordan “Fine-Ass” Johnson? That chocolate thang is fine as all fuck!”

  Sucking in air, I was hit with relief of being able to answer that question. “I just met him last weekend, up in Connecticut.” Another mark of Trent’s wall of distrust yielding to me.

  “For real, girl? Ain’t he fine? Does he really like strippers like that? You know he stay photographed with a famous dancer.”

  I took a moment to consider that. I didn’t know any
thing about Jordan Johnson—or JJ, as Trent called him—other than he was handsome, charming, and possessed my most valued impression: he was very accepting and understanding of Trent’s extreme and sensitive mood swings. It was clear to me that at some point in getting to know Trent, JJ decided to embrace all of his quirky characteristics.

  When we met at his plush home, JJ immediately picked me up in a big embrace and swung me from side-to-side like a ragdoll, but gentler. Trent clasped my fingers as JJ held me, showing his possessiveness. I could tell JJ didn’t mind and was expecting it. In fact, he was likely playfully taunting Trent with the act. We talked over a drink in his sitting room, and I could tell JJ and Trent couldn’t be any more different off the field. Jordan was more cultured, educated, secure in the sense that he was openly social, and nowhere near the taciturn nature Trent took on. Overall, he was a big kid too, just in a more endearing manner.

  After dinner at a fancy restaurant there in Connecticut near the stadium where the Kings played, we went to a club JJ had asked us to. Trent was hesitant to go, but I coaxed him into accepting, wanting to be around his close friend longer, thinking it would give me more insight into Trent. JJ had immediately warmed to the idea of me being on Trent’s arm. Apparently he’d heard a lot about me, including from that Alton Alston. Those athletes ran a tight circle between them, and that made me feverishly curious about what Trent had shared with his friends about me. But JJ never made me feel I was outside of their chemistry or that he was untouchable, considering the way people responded to his gregarious presence.

  Oh my god, the way people flocked to both men as though they were the mayors of the city or bigger—the president of the damn free world! Women threw themselves at JJ and Trent, but what was most notable about JJ was that he was respectful about ignoring them and keeping them at bay for my comfort level. It was obvious throughout the night, and when I’d commented on it afterwards to Trent, he confirmed it. Trent wouldn’t let go of my hand as he crowded over me from behind while JJ’s bodyguards led us to a V.I.P. section of the club where we had some level of privacy.

 

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