by Love Belvin
“I’m starting to think you don’t want to play with me, Trent,” she whined.
Goddamn… Her teeth looked bigger with that matte lipstick shade. Sexier. And Jade looked edgier. Okay. Maybe I was getting cold feet here.
“Listen, shawtie, all I’m saying is this party can get mad wild. I don’t want no trouble between us later because I had to pull you off of a groupie, who I can’t even see.”
I couldn’t see them because the only woman that appealed to my eyes was my wife. I still felt guilty about us keeping it a secret, but Jade hadn’t flexed about that. She said she really didn’t care about what the world knew, just as long as we were official. And I hoped we’d be official after this party. On the low, I was more concerned with me having to go ape-shit on a nigga trying to get at my wife.
We were at a rented fifteen-thousand-square-foot estate in Galveston, Texas, on the water. Whenever JJ and I threw parties, we’d handle it from top to bottom, hiring necessary staff to coordinate it. Tonight, Eli footed the bill. He was damn proud of our comeback. The Kings were definitely a household name again. Our recognition and reputation had returned. We were all proud and amped.
“You just be sure you see this.” She lifted her left ring finger to my face. “Okay?”
Another jolt of guilt hit me. I couldn’t wait to add a band to the engagement ring. It was only right. But as far as the public knew, we were engaged until later this year.
I took her by the hand. “Girl, let’s go. Remember, if you need me, shoot me a text,” I reminded her, still uneasy about this game she wanted to play.
Jade stay with the games.
We walked down to the elevator. On the ride down, she didn’t speak and my mind ran with so much shit, I couldn’t speak. I could hear the thumping from the bass as soon as we passed the second floor. Once we hit the main level, there were armed security guards posted at the doorway and the entire back foyer. Tyheem was there. He shot me a nod before walking near Jade. He was assigned to her tonight.
Jade followed me to the front of the house where there was a reception area in the main vestibule.
“Mr. Bailey,” the brunette with a sharp cut bob greeted then checked her device. “I see you’ve purchased just one bracelet tonight.” She glanced over to her partner. “Trinka, TBailey. Purple.” The other girl next to her went into a case and pulled out two gold neon wristbands. She sprayed it to be able to read the inscription on them. After wiping them off, she motioned for Jade’s arm.
“What’s this for?” Those hazels danced with alarm.
Not the sexy vixen you were upstairs, I see.
I tried hiding my laugh. “Procurement bands—or assignment bands as Alton calls them—for buying guests.”
“Come again?” Jade asked, sweeping her curls behind her ear as she studied the bracelet after it was put on her.
“There are more women at these parties than men. By design—”
“Who’s brilliant idea was that?” she hissed as my band was being placed on my wrist.
I gave her a knowing eye with my chin to the floor, again trying to hide my smirk.
“In advance, any man or woman who wants to have fun at the end of the night can spend the evening, picking their playmate.”
“Playmate?” Jade’s face wrinkled. “What the hell?”
“Yo, you wanna do this or not? We could go back upstairs and I’ll be gravy,” I threatened.
“No!” She rolled her eyes. “It’s just that I can’t see you doing this type of thing. Procuring a sex partner?”
“Or three,” the brunette added.
“Or five,” her partner, Trinka butted in with a giggle.
Jade’s nostrils grew at the two girls.
“I’m just saying, J. It gets wild and the ladies are topnotch, most of them come from clubs and organizations suited for men of our caliber.”
“Prostitutes?” her eyes grew.
“Not really, but some are professional escorts. We don’t rent women. They come with a culture that knows how to entertain us with…discretion. We can’t have just anybody here. Some of the WNBA ain’t out yet. Not for nothing, not all the men buy bands. They just come to vibe with their peoples. But for those who do wanna play, they mark their woman of interest with these. If you see someone with a band you didn’t buy, you gotta keep it moving. That’s the rule. That’s why people get here mad early so they can claim what they want.”
We walked over to the wall for privacy and to get out of the rush of people filling in the house already. It wasn’t even one in the morning yet.
“What if the woman doesn’t want to be “procured?” She used air quotations.
“Then she doesn’t accept the band.” I bent until I got in her face. “Like you…won’t be accepting a single fucking band tonight. That’s a game I won’t play, Jade.” I could see her swallow before nodding hard. I made sure to lock my eyes to her hazels. Jade was sneaky. I didn’t think she’d cheat on me, but she would pull some slick shit in the name of fun and have me crack some dude’s jaw in here.
“Okay! No more allowances to our game!” she assured.
“A’ight.” I straightened. “I see my man’s over here I wanna holla at. Don’t forget to text me. JJ’s around if you need something and don’t see me. You saw how big this place is from when we got here this morning.”
Jade nodded again, her shoulder still pressed into the wall as she looked at me. Something in her eyes made me want to stay by her side. This wasn’t easy for me. I bent down real quick and kissed her on the lips softly. Then I walked away…backwards like the lovesick puppy I was. When I finally turned around, I saw my boy Cam from Hotlanta and chopped it up with him for a minute.
He hadn’t lied. I’d been strolling through the place for close to thirty minutes and as I threaded through the lively crowd, I’d seen seven “procurements” and had four attempts made on me. Each time a man started my way, tried to grab my hand or the one that started dancing on my ass, I shot my wrist up in the air. What was crazier was one wanted to know who I belonged to so he could speak to my procurer and try for a negotiation. He used some type of flashlight gadget to scan my bracelet. Then my arm fell when he mumbled Trent’s name. I strutted off, smiling like a kept woman.
I eventually made my way to the bar, enjoying people watching while waiting on my cocktail to be made. I saw a familiar face coming my way. By the time she placed her order, I recalled where I knew her from.
“Cole?”
She turned to me, just as beautiful as I remembered her from the night in Trent’s condo where I embarrassed myself by assuming she was a groupie. She paid a few seconds to remember me.
“Jade.” She smiled. “So, you were the one to convince Trent to come.”
I couldn’t help my face opening up to that claim. “How did you know he had to be convinced?”
“Jordan told me. He said he’d been trying for a week and Trent wasn’t having it. He’s really changed, that guy, and I for one am happy for him.”
My drink was handed to me. “You don’t think JJ is?” I frowned. “Trent can be a bit of a prude. I thought he was much older when I met him.”
Cole laughed. “I can see why. But all change isn’t bad. When he came home he was different, but in an angry way. Trent’s more confident now. More self-assured. I’m sure that has a lot to do with you.” She grabbed the drink being offered to her.
I took a sip on mine, shrugging my shoulders. Trent had changed. He admitted to it himself, but he had so much more work to do. We both did.
“He makes me happy.”
Her eyes fell to my ring. “And clearly wants to do it forever. I’m really happy for him. Even before going away, Trent was a really good guy. Always honest and up front, you know?”
Honest and upfront with me? We’re working on it.
I smiled. Now face-to-face, though she was taller—everybody’s taller—I could appreciate her gorgeous features.
“It was your hair.”
> “Pardon?” she moved in closer and bent slightly to hear me.
“It was your natural hair that flared my jealousy. Trent suggested that I didn’t need my weave so when I saw a gorgeous woman with her real relaxed hair, I burned with jealousy,” I had no problem admitting.
“Oh, girl, please!” Cole’s head tossed back as she laughed. “I hope you’re not offended when I say this, but you were so well put together that night, even with a baseball cap and sweat suit that when I saw you, I thought you were a groupie. Your makeup was flawless as it is tonight and that donk, girl!” She high-fived me as she laughed.
Everyone, thanks to paparazzi and the media, thought I was a groupie because of my appearance: long weave, makeup, D cup boobs, and big booty. There was no way I could be offended. I didn’t feel worthy of her forgiveness, but was grateful for it. She’s just one of many I’ve spazzed out on to claim Trent all to myself. In her case, it was purely unnecessary. She was JJ’s girl.
I took a sip of my drink, enjoying the banter Cole made easy in spite of her first impression of me.
“Listen, I’m sorry. I was totally out of pocket as Trent would say. And I love JJ. Think he’s a great guy and an amazing friend to Trent. He could do no wrong in my eyes, and I had no business acting like a deranged bird in the parking lot of the projects somewhere.” Cole laughed even harder. “I’m serious. I was wrong and would really like to be cool with you one day.”
“Jade!” Cole shouted. “It’s really no biggie. I know how crazy these women can get over these athletes. I grew up in this business. But in your case, you have to have some bite. Trent’s a popular and talented player. He’s a magnet.” Her smile blossomed again. “We’re good. Really.”
“Thanks, Cole.”
She nodded with a brilliant smile.
“Alright now! Alright now! For my veterans of this Two Kings jam, you already know how we do with this portion of our show. Shoot ‘Em Up! is in the muthafuckin’ buuuuuuuilding!”
My smile fell and heart sank.
“Oh, my god! Don’t freak, Jade.” Cole grabbed my lower arm. “Shoot ‘Em Up! is a talented man, but will be going upstairs with one special lady tonight.” She laughed as she walked away.
I followed the crowd into the living room of the house. There were countless bodies in there, scrambling to get to the center. I pushed my way through the sea of onlookers, hardly getting anywhere until I felt familiar hands on my shoulder.
“Pardon me!” Tyheem’s thick baritone boomed. “Let us through!”
And that’s when the sea parted. Tyheem ushered me close to where a spotlight was flashing on a chair that faced another. He sat me in the one that was darkened, without the light. A beautiful woman of Asian descent was seated across from me as the crowd went wild. She seemed more confident and calmer than I was. I couldn’t gain a hold of my breathing. Then I heard a familiar beat from a bass. As it continued, I recognized 112’s Peaches and Cream.
Out of nowhere, I saw a big and oiled figure doing some sort of moonwalk into the spotlight. After dragging my eyes from the familiar tattoos now glistening in baby oil, I recognized Trent wearing his signature Timbs, black jeans that hung indecently low, and a baseball cap with the brim falling low into his face. He slapped his thighs and fell into a squatting position before he rolled those abs in the air. They moved coordinately, all eight of them.
Damn, Trent!
This wasn’t the plan. The game plan was for us to make our way around the party and “bump into each other” for a hot “one-night stand.” We were supposed to be old acquaintances, with me only having gone down on him that one time near the elevator in his home. You know…that I could never forget him and he never forgot what my mouth felt like, type of thing. Now, this… He was changing the rules, torturing me as he rolled against the floor in plank position, similar to how he had danced on me that night at the bowling alley, only with no one underneath him. The ladies hooted and hollered. The men chanted him on with shouts of his stage and field names.
The girl across from me sat with her legs crudely ajar. Not enough to see between them, but certainly too lax to be decent. The moment I was prepared to react to that the music changed and Trent leaped onto the back of her chair, gliding into the air until he landed on his feet on the other side and pulled the back of her chair. I heard the underwater sounds streaming through the speakers before the beat dropped. Trent approached me with a stoney face that was intimidating when he was shirtless, big, bulging, oily, and downright imposing. He reached between my legs and pulled my chair until I was in the spotlight, feet away from my neighbor across from me.
Then he turned for her, lifting her from her chair by her hand. When she was on her feet, Trent stood in front of her and rhythmically twisted his brim to the back while flexing his shoulders and the wings of his back, almost enclosing her intimidatingly. He started to grind in front of her, rolling his shoulders, abs, and pelvis—lifting and dipping. She went to touch his chest and he grabbed her at the waist as he continued to dance on her. She got greedy and tried to grab his crotch. Trent bounced back on beat, smiled at her, lifted his finger and waving it. Then he turned to put his back to her and rolled backwards with agility. I couldn’t believe he got as low as the hem of her skirt where he started wiggling his head lewdly, emulating eating the girl.
Oh my…
My brain was about to burst from that sensual visual. I wasn’t bothered, not one bit. Was too turned on to be angry. I had no clue he was that flexible. I switched positions in my seat, feeling the lubrication underneath me. Before I knew it, Trent had the girl bent over in her chair. When R. Kelly yelled, “Murder…Murder…” He had the crowd clap him on. That act was similar to the one with me, but none of his dance moves were. They were fresh from an endless arsenal. While she hung over the chair with her butt in the air, Trent took his time with body rolls, neck rolls, and hip thrusts, showing off the glorious masculine cuts. Recklessly displaying virility with extreme confidence. He finally took her at the hips and air grinded on her, showing off the cuts in his back and the width of space between his long legs as he twerked midair pretending to be hitting it from the back.
I couldn’t decide where I wanted to settle my eyes. They were greedy wanting to see his back, ass, and what he was doing to this stranger. She tried to scoot back, but Trent caught her and swiftly pulled her up by her shoulders. He threw her in the air and caught her so she could straddle him. He continued with his hip thrusts, but keenly kept her pelvis in his abdomen and not meeting his. There was not one calm body in the room. He moved so far out that he backed up the gawking crowd. It was unbelievable how acrobatically Trent moved. He was like a machine, totally detached from the man I knew—unless we were fucking. When Trent fucked me it was deliciously beautiful. It was usually to blow off some steam. I was his workout and was always a willing participant.
My lewd thoughts were cut short when Trent did a back flip, landed on his knees, and slid over to me with his chin toward his chest. His eyes were hard, angry. He was animal-like, ravishing. And I wanted to be ravished right there in the spot. He pulled me from the chair, placed me on all fours while he danced on his knees, inches away from me. He did that neck roll while swiping his hands down his chest. Then on beat, Trent thrust his pelvis in my face, grabbing my hair at the braided roots. He kept pushing his crotch in my face until I felt his erection. It was so lewd, so brazen. So goddamn hot. I could hardly hear the music over the shouts around us. He released my hair and took me at my waist, flipping me backwards in the air until I straddled his shoulders. Trent buried his face in my sex and used his tongue to find my clit. I was too turned on to be ashamed. All I could do was hold my spine so I didn’t fall from his shoulders. My neck collapsed back and I felt his big hand lifting and dropping me at my hips, making the act downright lecherous.
My eyes were closed when he dropped me to his waist. I also realized that the music had changed. Trent hugged me as he laughed, I was sure at my drunken state, in
toxicated by his public display of raw sexiness.
“You enjoyed that a little too much, little one,” he spoke in my ear over the glaring whoops and shouts.
“Treeeeeeent!” I purred, still refusing to open my eyes as I clawed his big frame in my arms and between my legs.
“Don’t worry. I’m about to finish you off as soon as we get upstairs.”
I squealed in his frame, squeezing tighter around him.
Trent continued to laugh as he received personal praise from people in passing. I felt a few taps of affirmation on my back and shoulders, but none burned me like what was in my arms. Once again, thanks to Trent, I was publicly turned on. Tonight, though, I didn’t have to hide it or be embarrassed. He was mine. And even if they didn’t know it in the legal manner, they knew it in the biblical sense.
“Shoot ‘Em Up! scores his biggest piece of ass tonight!”
My head shot up and eyes ballooned at that announcement. Still clasped to Trent’s sweaty body, I tossed my head back and laughed.
“JJ!” I screamed, still in movement. Trent kept for the rear foyer as I faced a laughing JJ, looking just as handsome and jovial as always as he teased me until we were out of sight.
Trent mumbled a few words to the sea of security at the elevator, making sure no one got access to the third floor. You could only access by elevator. The moment we were inside, I pushed my tongue down his throat. Trent moaned and his eyes mushroomed simultaneously. He quickly shuffled so his back was to the opened doors as he returned the kiss. As soon as we were inside our bedroom, I slid down his slippery body, unzipped his jeans, pulled out his thickness, and tongue kissed it.
Trent struggled to close and lock the door while I started indulging in my “one-night stand” with Shoot ‘Em Up!
My phone vibrating off the glass top of the nightstand woke me up. I stretched my arm over to the side of the bed, shifting my back on the mattress a little until my fingers were able to grasp it. It was a text from Jordan.