by Love Belvin
This was us. It was a realm where we could be free to be who we really were without the expectations of the world around us. It was where we felt safe to be the real Trent and Jade. We didn’t judge or condemn, but I did challenge him. I pushed him to trust me. To love me. To let me in to love him freely.
Trent lowered himself to kiss me. I wrapped him in my arms, tightened my legs around his waist, and licked and sucked my musk from his lips and mouth. To never feel this right…to never feel the heaviness of his sacks smack against my butt gutted me. Another cry hurled from the back of my throat. I squeezed him, anchored my palms into his shoulders and met his thrusts. In no time, I felt stirring in my groin.
“Why are you crying?” he grunted.
“Because I love you so much.” I could barely release.
“And that makes you sad?” his tone was softer, his plunges still delicious.
“That fact destroying us makes me sad.”
“Jade,” he groaned, but held a tight face.
That lack of assurance and stolid answer told me I was right. Trent was here tonight to tell me we needed to revisit the terms of our relationship.
“You know this can’t work if you don’t trust me.”
My face fell. “I can’t trust you to trust me.”
Trent angled his hips, forcing me to relax the crossing of my ankles on his back. He hit a new sweet spot, taking my breath away. He held my legs on his shoulders as he pounded me into an orgasm that had me forget to think and a spasm of pleasure ignited in my core, pushing me into a realm where I only felt him. Seconds later, Trent joined me. His clammy limbs shuddering all over me.
He moaned as he kissed me again, releasing my legs aside him. I could feel him throbbing inside me.
“That was everything,” he panted. “But something’s missing. It would be so much better with what’s under the pillows.”
“You want to use condoms now?” My eyes bulged.
“You wanna start using rubbers?” There was something misleading about his response.
“Trent, just tell me like it is. Don’t sugar coat what you need to say. I can deal with it.”
His mouth tightened and his neck swayed, gesturing his confusion. How could he be confused about what he wanted?
“Did you want to relax me before you broke the news?”
His regard went to something above my head as he considered that question. “I guess I did. But hold up! All I did was make one observation.”
“What observation?” I yelled.
“That this would be better with—”
Before he could finish his sentence, I recalled him mentioning the pillow. My arms fled up, above my head and swiped until I hit something hard and apparently sharp. I pulled it out, realizing what it was before I could land my eyes on it.
More tears. Tears that clouded my vision, robbing me of fully experiencing the moment.
“Now, this track has played at least fifty times since you walked in here—I lost track after I squatted and got a whiff of your jungle below,” I could hardly register the joke because I was blinded when I turned the princess cut diamond ring and it caught the right angle of one of the candle stems, breaking into luminous chards of light. “…but as the lyrics state you said you have feelings for me that you’ve never felt. And you’ve just once again confessed to loving me ‘so much’” the modulation of his tone changed to a girlie mocking one. “But you’ve been consistent about this for almost a year, and I’m convinced now.”
Tears escaped me again. Trent was mocking me to lighten the moment, but there was some truth in his teasing. He hadn’t trusted me to love him.
“I want you to marry me, Jade.” His vocals turned hoarse, raw.
For seconds long our gazes danced in the reflection of the flickered fare surrounding us.
“You’re serious,” I whispered.
He scowled. “Of course, I am.”
“I thought you were going to tell me we should slow things down.”
“Why did you think that when I just asked you to be my girlfriend?”
I sucked in a deep breath after that reminder. I’d totally forgotten about that text in Target.
Trent placed a quick peck on my chin. “You gotta trust me, Jade. You’re not the only one with your heart on the table.”
“I know!” I slapped my right hand over my mouth as though it would stop yet another cry from shooting up my throat. I squeezed my eyes closed. “I’m so tired of crying, Trent,” I admitted.
This day had been too emotional for me.
He kissed me again, this time on my nose. “Just don’t stop crying for me…because you trust me to be your man, okay?”
I nodded, holding in a breath to fight the tears.
“Good. Now,”—he thrust inside me again, reminding me he was still there, and making me aware that he was still hard for me—“I need to know if I you’ll wear this here.” He took the ring from my grip and placed it on my left hand. “I need to know if you’ll be my wife, Jade. That’s how this thing works, you know?” He was teasing me again.
I nodded. Hard. I wanted him that bad.
“Love can be so insecure,” he sang with the track. “So please be sure.”
More damn tears.
“Damn!” he groaned. “Stop it, Jade! You overreacted again. We know this about you already; get over it!” He scolded gently. I tried to get it under control, sniffling like a toddler. “Now, one last thing.” He started to grind his hips, dipping and pulling with fluid movements in and out of me. He lowered his thumb to my clit and started rubbing sweetly. “I’m taking you away on a yacht next week…Bye week. It’s the one vacation period football players have during the season. You can’t tell Ky. I can’t invite him because of all the nasty ways I wanna fuck his mother on the boat, and I don’t plan on having her in clothes the whole time.”
I shook my head and swallowed hard. “No, he wouldn’t like that.”
My eyes rolled to the back of my head from his actions below.
“Nah. So, you’re gonna have to do the dirty work for me. You be the bad guy.”
“He has school. Problem solved,” I moaned.
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t think about that.”
I nodded with closed eyes. “So, that makes way for you to explain this.” I lifted my heavy ring finger to him, enjoying his efforts.
“Oh…That…”
“Yeah.” I licked my lips and pulled his face to mine. “Think about it later. Right now, I’m about to come again.”
Our lips met and I was lost to him again, only this time, I wasn’t working against lone efforts to get there. Trent wanted me there as his wife.
On the field where the magic of the atmosphere is the clamorous excitement from the turned up fans in the bleachers, the scurrying on the field from the teams’ staff, and the fast and animated remarks of the commentators for broadcasting, there was me pacing the green, ruminatively, trying to think my way through a nearing panic moment.
After a horrific three quarters of play, I had to think and think fast. With my rustiness, I miraculously led the Kings all the way back from a 17-point deficit to tie the game. But we were going to lose, and on my watch, there was no time for losing. As the new first-string quarterback, I’d still been warming to my old skill set, and couldn’t have my team penalized for that. We’d already kicked off the season with too many Ls, risking a slot in the playoffs. I’d been spending hours and hours in the film room, watching old plays from my team and historically notable ones from others. As I measured the time on the clock against our position on the field, something hit me.
“Coach!” I called over to Lou where he was in a huddle with the other coaches, conferring on the next play. I glanced down the field at JJ, who was alone in a zone, trying to subdue his anger. That goddamn Bobby Samuels, a cornerback from the Saints, had been fucking with him like a little bitch throughout the game—the game we were about to lose. “A suggestion, please.”
Coach Lou g
lared over at me, his long curly gray eyebrows meeting his lashes. It was a dangerous call, but one I was prepared to make for my team. He made his way over and I turned him away from the cameras and formed our own huddle, explaining the play I felt we could execute and get ahead of the Saints. It was a risky call, but I was desperate to come out on top of the tied score of thirty-one. I shared with him and paid Coach a few seconds to consider it.
“Huddle!” he yelled for the team and coaches, no word on my recommendation. I followed to where the team gathered and as soon as we were settled, Coach demanded, “Bailey,” he nodded with hard eyes. “Call the play.”
I explained the play, directing JJ to an unusual position on the field, but one he could pull off if he could shake Samuels Petty-Paulie antics. After the call was made from the coaches to execute, we broke out and the assigned players took to the field. After the defense forced the Saints to a three and out, we were set to receive the punt with less than a minute on the clock. JJ was back to receive the it.
The punt was away, a low line drive kick. JJ came up to meet the ball. Shockingly, it went right through his hands, taking my heart to the ground with it. But he scrambled to pick it up, and after he finally did, he was practically surrounded by would-be tacklers. JJ backtracked and was seemingly running toward his own end zone. He shook the first tackler and then reversed field like the lit talent he was. He did a tightrope act and managed to stay in bounds along the sideline, picked up a convoy and took it all the way to the house for the game winning touchdown.
The crowd went all the way crazy. And I couldn’t help my groin-grabbing posture as I jumped on my toes all the way into the field until I made it to my dude. We made a show out of our victory dance, but I let him lead because that play was his. He’d killed it. And I was damn proud of my boy. JJ needed that play for more than one reason, and I was happy he had been able to make good on it. It was one for the history books, showcasing his field agility and focus.
Out of nowhere, Bobby Samuels walked up. It happened so fast, but I was able to peep JJ’s smug smile. He’d deserved to wear it.
“Good game, bruh,” he yelled over the noise of the crowd, extending his hand to Samuels, who looked at it with narrowed eyes, turned his head, and spit on the ground.
“Fuck outta here with that “good game” shit,” he shouted with a screwed face. “I know I roasted your ass out there today,” Samuels continue to spit shit as the cameras moved all around us.
That pissed me off. We didn’t need nothing newsworthy reported from this field other than our well-earned and skillful W. I wasn’t there for the schoolyard shit.
Jordan scowled at dude, but maintained that pretty-boy-I’ll-still-fuck-your-momma smile. “Score is what it is, man. You ain’t gotta shake my hand, but you can keep that other bullshit.”
“Nah, you got it, Ms. Bailey. I see you got your panties out your ass now that your man is back on the field, bitch.”
Ms. Bailey? No this nigga didn’t—
I leaped into action, trying to do the Christ-like thing of talking my man from the rightful pounding I knew he was capable of putting on dude.
“Yo, JJ, street rules don’t apply on the green. See that dude where there’s nobody recording. You know how we do. Victory over everything,” I repeated the motto we’d shared for years.
For extra measure, I nudged JJ to move, but carefully. When niggas got heated like I knew my man was, you couldn’t be physically aggressive with them or else things could get out of hand. Thankfully, he took a step in the opposite direction.
“Whatever, Bobby. You have a good night.” JJ decided to bid him a cocky good day.
“Oh I plan to. We’ve got your fine ass baby sister waiting at the back as a consolation prize. I’m gon’ love seeing those dimples on either side of my dick while she’s gag—”
And there it was.
A wrap.
JJ hauled off and clocked Samuels in the chin so hard, his neck audibly snapped back. After that JJ was on top of dude, throwing straight jabs to his face, not able to serve them to his body because of the armor from his uniform.
“Hold!” I screamed at the small crowd of players, refs, coaches, and staffers coming in to break it up.
I knew I didn’t have long before they’d all pile in to separate the two, but I was a CMD nigga. And our law was nobody touched our man while he was scrapping without say so from the head man. I understood I wasn’t exactly that on NFL’s turf, but I did what I had to, to save time. I jumped at the two on the ground first, strategically taking my time before pulling JJ off of Samuels. He deserved to get a few in from that straight disrespect Samuels spewed. JJ didn’t have a lot of time on him, but he officially bodied dude on Samuels’ field.
The two men were separated within seconds. I made sure I was on JJ to ensure no sneak jabs from the Saints because of their man’s L. As we broke the medley, we’d soon learn the drama was far from over. JJ was arrested that evening, spending the night in jail. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
“The order for dinner has been placed,” she informed lazily as she stepped out on the back deck of the yacht.
The sun beamed on her petite frame as she strutted over to the railing to rest her elbows and gaze out on the water. She had my tongue hanging from my mouth again with that “barely there” white bikini. The top had no straps for her swollen boobs and the bottom neglected to cover her plump stretch-marked booty.
“What you order for me?” I wanted to mess with her.
“Fish and steamed vegetables,” she called over her shoulder.
Jade looked like a model. She was my wet dream come true. I couldn’t believe she was mine and had agreed to marrying me last week. I set it up to have her out on Divine’s yacht for four days. Two days after we played the Saints, Jade and I cruised the western Caribbean, stopping only to refuel. They were the best days of my life. We made love every day, several times a day, and in many ways. And we talked—of course, Jade wanted to talk to see how I was doing and what I was feeling with everything happening so fast in our lives. I knew it was important to talk things through, but I had my own agenda of taking her outside of our norms in hopes of demonstrating my love for her transcended my mansion where she stayed behind while I traveled.
“Damn, Jade!”
“What?” she turned around looking, for what I didn’t know.
“Your boobs,” I breathed out. “They look…bigger.” I exhaled. “Makes me wanna put my dick in them.”
She shook her head, looking back out into the ocean. “You did that already—twice. You don’t remember last night?”
I scratched my head, not exactly recalling specific details. I’d gotten so wasted, feeling safe with Jade that my brain was still fuzzy. I only remembered going balls deep into her on the steps, on our way to the master cabin.
“C’mere, baby. Let me do it again.” I laughed.
“Oh, no! You’re a fiend, Trent!” I reached up and pulled her down on the lounger with me.
After flipping and turning her to straddle me, I asked, “What’s up with you this afternoon? Everything was all good this morning.”
“Nothing. I woke up from my nap thinking. Is JJ okay?”
“I spoke to him the day before we pulled out. He’s good. Cole’s making sure of it.”
The ladies loved JJ and I see mine was no different. He was a ladies’ man, whether in pursuit or not, I guessed.
“Good. I just hate that y’all got into that fight like that. You could’ve been hurt with all that equipment on.”
“First, we play with that equipment to protect us from worse brutality to the body.” I tapped her nose. “Second, it wasn’t my fight to get hurt.”
“But you admitted to making sure JJ got his. One of the guys from the other team could’ve seen that and wanted the same advantage for the Samuels guy or wanted revenge for your manipulation!”
I laughed at her concerns. Athletes fought all the time. I pulled her int
o my arms even tighter, ignoring her cute pout. “I was good. Don’t nobody wanna see my guns. Samuels didn’t think he would see JJ’s. I only interfered because I was mad at what he said. Dude was disrespectful. But JJ ain’t need no help. We rock out when it’s time. They know.”
“Trent!” She sighed, rolling her eyes then lay out on my chest.
“Did you call those people back about the nail salon chain?” I decided to change the subject.
She shook her head.
“What’s the hold up, Jade? Isn’t this what you wanna do…open your own nail salon?”
Jade sat up again. “I guess. I don’t know.” Her eyes went back into the water ahead.
“Everything all good?” I tightened my hands around her tiny waist, concerned all over again.
She bit her lip and nodded.
“Well, why’re you so unsure? I told you to be sure and you told me you were sure,” I teased about the lyrics in the Stevie Wonder track I used to propose to her.
“Because now that we’re engaged and I’m in the middle of furnishing and decorating your place—”
“Our place. Don’t start that again. It, for real, seems more like your place than mine, almost since you moved in.”
“Okay. Our place. Anyway. Kyree’s starting second grade and I’m trying to get him acclimated to that. And then with that fight and JJ’s arrest…” She slowly shook her head, gaze caught in the passing water. “It’s just been a lot.”
“I don’t want you to regret not going for your own dreams while mine are happening. I want to see you shine, too. Just go down to Atlanta and see what they’re talking about. I can have my lawyer, Chesney, send someone with you to make sure it’s legit.”
“That costs money, Trent.”
“So? I gotchu. Don’t worry: when you start opening up those salons and doing Oprah’s nails, I’m gonna need a sugar momma to lean on when I retire. You know the span of a football player’s career is mad short.”
“Don’t say that, please.” Jade didn’t laugh at all.
Something was bugging her and I wanted to know what, but couldn’t shake it out of her.