Love on the Run

Home > Other > Love on the Run > Page 25
Love on the Run Page 25

by Zuri Day


  “Jarrell,” Shayna added, hoping to prevent a verbal showdown, “we had some fun moments while I was there helping to take care of Mom. But I told you then, and I’ll tell you now. Nothing has changed. I love Michael. And I hope that in time you can find love, too.” Shayna and Michael exchanged a glance during the long pause that followed. “Hello?”

  “He left,” Beverly replied. Her voice lowered as she continued. “Y’all, don’t worry about Jarrell, or me either for that matter. I know I haven’t always shown my support, but at the end of the day, Shayna, you need to live your life. Mama always said I was selfish and self-centered and she was right. For a long time I’ve used the drama I endured as an excuse for my behavior. But that’s got to stop. You’re your own person, Shayna. Most of the time when you thought I was mad at you, I was really jealous of you.”

  “But why—”

  “Let me say this. I wanted the carefree childhood that you received. I wanted Big Mama to feel about me the way she seemed to feel about you. I’m just now realizing that the bed I slept in as a child and especially as a teenager was one that I’d made. It wasn’t your father’s fault that I got pregnant. I lied and told him that I was on the pill.

  “I wanted to be the woman that you are, with something going for herself besides her looks. You’ve become who you are in spite of a mother like me. I just hope that one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Mom. I already have. That started as soon as I got the letter from my father. But the healing will take a lot longer. Hopefully we’ll do that together.”

  “I hope so. Listen, guys, the nurse just got back from her dinner break. Shayna, when do you think you’ll be down again?”

  “Not until after the baby arrives. We’ve got meets and promotional obligations back to back. But call me if you need me, Mom. I always check my cell.”

  “I’m proud of you, Shayna.”

  “Thank you, Mom.”

  “I love you.”

  “Me, too.” Shayna hung up the phone, and for the life of her couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her mother say those words.

  54

  Today was a big day: the official launch of Triple S, Shayna’s sportswear line that through 2017 would be sold exclusively in XMVP stores. Her line included running outfits, a cologne called Sprint, and the shoe idea that Shayna had conceived. It was all happening in the Big Apple at XMVP’s Times Square location. Michael and the PR company he’d hired had done a bang-up job. In the week before this Saturday launch, Shayna had appeared on the Today show, ESPN, Live! with Kelly, and the popular hip-hop show, 106 & Park. In addition she’d been interviewed by the New York Times, USA Today, the Washington Post, and the Huffington Post. In the coming months she was scheduled to do a spread in Essence magazine and also to appear on OWN. As her manager, Michael had done everything he’d promised. As her man, he’d done so much more.

  “You ready, baby?” Michael reached across the limo seat and took Shayna’s hand.

  “I think so.” She looked down at her vibrating phone. “Ah,” she said once she’d tapped the message icon. “Coach and his wife send me their wishes.” Always proud and supportive of his team, John had assured her if not for the any-day-now baby on the way, he would have been there.

  “Good man right there.”

  “Yes, he is.” At times, Coach had felt like the father Shayna had never known. “Wish he were here to calm my nerves!”

  “Just be yourself. You’ll do fine.”

  “I kinda wish Mom were here.”

  “You know she’d be here if she could travel.”

  “I know.” Shayna also realized that the phrase her grandmother often spouted—“God may be working in mysterious ways”—was particularly fitting right this moment. Because had Beverly made the trip, Larsen would have accompanied her and Jarrell more than likely would have come along for the ride. Much too much drama. As it were the entire event was being videoed. She’d make sure that her mother got a copy of the DVD.

  They turned the corner and Shayna’s eyes widened. Is all of that crowd here for me? The answer came as soon as the driver opened her door and she stepped out of the car. Photographers began screaming her name and girls with gold-medal dreams in their eyes began pushing pieces of paper in her direction.

  “Baby,” Michael said, reaching into his pocket and handing her a pen, “sign a few on your way in.”

  Unexpected tears came to Shayna’s eyes as she reached for the first piece of paper. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine herself a celebrity or role model, someone from whom anyone would want her signature. She remembered being a child and watching other athletes sign autographs for their fans, something that always appeared so cool. And now, here she was, looking into the eyes of a little cocoa cutie with long braids and braces who appeared to be about ten years old, thinking, Shayna imagined, that someday she too could bring home the gold.

  After smiling and waving to the crowd, Shayna continued into the store, flanked by Michael, Michael’s assistant, Keith, the PR rep, Choice McKinley-Scott from Chai Fashions and the designer behind the running gear and jogging outfits bearing the Triple S logo: Shayna’s Sprint Sensations. It was a good thing Michael had warned her, otherwise she would have been stopped in her tracks by the larger than life picture of herself running along the back wall. The day wasn’t totally without surprises, however, as she found out when she rounded the corner and saw several of her teammates and her BFFs!

  “Tee! Britt!” Shayna made quick work of the distance between her and her friends. “Why didn’t you tell me y’all were coming?”

  “Because it was a surprise, silly,” Tee said, giving Shayna a hug.

  “Girl, you are doing the damn thing,” Britt whispered with a squeeze.

  “She’s right, Shay. This is crazy, girl.” Talisha looked beyond Shayna and smiled. “’Bout time y’all got here!”

  Shayna turned around and saw Kim and Patrick heading in her direction. “Wow! This is amazing!” She hugged them both. “Thanks so much for coming, guys. This means a lot.”

  “Thank Michael,” Kim replied. “He’s the one who rounded us all up and set us up with the travel agent that gave us group rates.”

  Shayna turned to thank Michael only to find that he’d gone across the room and was talking to the store manager with whom they’d had dinner last night. She turned back to Talisha. “Cameron couldn’t come?”

  “No, he couldn’t get off work. He’s happy for you, though; wanted me to tell you that dinner was on him when we get back home.”

  “Ah.”

  “You’d better take him up on it, too, ’cause you know he’s tighter than a fat lady’s girdle.”

  “Ha!”

  A pair of arms wrapped around her. Shayna would know that scent anywhere, and even though the move had surprised her, there was a smile on her face as she turned around. “What’s with the PDA?”

  “Can’t I give my baby a hug and tell her how proud I am of her?”

  “I thought we were keeping the fact that we’re dating on the down low.” While this hadn’t been the official position, more than once Michael had alluded to not giving off the appearance of mixing business with pleasure. Yet here he was nuzzling her neck in full view of the cameras as if it were the most natural thing to do.

  “Maybe it’s time we change that.”

  Further conversation was interrupted as Dina and her team mounted the temporarily erected stage. “If I can have your attention,” Dina began, after she’d signaled the DJ to lower the volume of the hip-hop music pouring through the speakers. “On behalf of XMVP Shoes and Sportswear, I’d like to welcome you to the launch of Triple S from the triple threat, Shayna Washington!” Applause and whistles sounded out, while those around Shayna high-fived. “We are absolutely thrilled to be represented not only by an athlete of her talent but also a person of her caliber. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve found Shayna to be a perso
n of integrity and compassion, with a keen understanding of the world’s events. Which is why at her request fifty percent of the proceeds from today’s sales will go to benefit those still recovering in earthquake-ravaged Haiti.” More whistles. More applause. “We’d also like to recognize Chai from Chai Fashions, whose talent is behind the stylish yet comfortable looks that make up the Triple S line. Shayna will be up to speak later, but right now please enjoy the buffet, drink from the champagne fountain, and most importantly . . . buy, buy, buy!”

  With that admonishment, the music revved up, the crowd around the stage disbursed to shop, and for the next hour, Shayna was pulled here and tugged there: photographed, interviewed, and complimented on the successful launch. Heady stuff for a once shy girl from Inglewood who’d been told by her mom it was more important to get a man than get a job. The hug from Michael hadn’t gone unnoticed and more than one reporter had inquired of their relationship. “We’re very good friends and business partners,” had been her pat and coy reply.

  At the end of the successful evening that included a fashion show, Dina once again graced the stage along with Michael, the Times Square store manager, and other company brass. After she’d gotten their attention, she spoke into the mike. “Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, the star of the evening, Shayna Washington.”

  Shayna nodded, smiled, and gave little waves as she mounted the stage and walked to the podium. Laughing out loud, she gave a look to her “crew,” who were whistling and hollering like the fools that they were and the ones whom she loved. “Wow, thank you,” she said sincerely when the noise had quieted. “I normally do my talking on the track so . . . this will be quick.”

  “Just like you, Shayna!” someone yelled.

  “Thank you. Um, I’d like to thank Dina DeVore and all the people at XMVP for allowing me to represent you and to introduce my line through your popular establishment. I’m especially proud that part of the proceeds will benefit the children in Haiti, providing shoes to those who don’t have them and food and clothes for those in need. Thank you so much. My coach isn’t here, but I want to shout out to him, John Joyner; my California Angels teammates, especially Brittney, Talisha, Kim, and Chantelle; and also my mom, Beverly Powell. Lastly, I’d like to thank my manager, Michael Morgan, for making this all possible.” She looked at Michael. “Thank you.” And then to the crowd. “Thank you all for coming. Thanks so much.”

  As the audience applauded, Michael came to the stage. He gave Shayna a light hug before approaching the mike. “As you all know, the foundation for the Triple S line is the lightweight running shoe that hopefully all of you will be purchasing tonight. Shayna’s expertise as a runner was invaluable in the designing of this footwear, which is lightweight yet durable, with an innovative tread and nonintrusive heel and toe support. She was a part of the process from start to finish. What she doesn’t know, however, is that there is one part of the design that, until now, we’ve kept hidden from her. Dina . . .” He turned to the marketing VP who in turn nodded to an assistant holding a shoe box. The assistant brought the box to the stage. “How many of you remember the famous gold shoes worn by track star Michael Johnson?” A few hands went up. “Well, after tonight, there’s another pair of famous shoes you’ll instantly recognize on the racetrack.” He turned with box outstretched. “Shayna.”

  Shayna frowned slightly as she took the box. Didn’t we discuss this? And didn’t I tell you that I didn’t want any sparkly shoes? Cautiously lifting the lid, she looked down on the coolest pair of shoes she’d ever seen. Michael had catered to her wishes. The shoes weren’t gold, silver, or even iridescent. They were see-through, made of a thin yet sturdy mesh-like material with a solid toe and heel! The only nod to pizzazz was found in the shoelaces, which were white and covered with small Swarovski crystals. “Wow,” she quietly exclaimed, holding up a shoe for the crowd’s observance. Reactions ranged from oohs and aahs to claps and cheers. Again, Shayna felt teary. Such a classy gesture, these shoes. She looked at Michael. I really love that man.

  “Try them on!” someone shouted.

  The crowd cheered her on. Someone brought a chair up on the stage. Shayna sat in it and reached for the first shoe to try on. She was just about to pull the lace when she noticed one sparkly stone that was quite a bit bigger than the ones covering the lace. Oh, maybe that’s like a tassel. Cool! She pulled at the “tassel.” A band prevented the string from coming loose. Shayna’s eyes widened. No. Can’t be.

  Before she could wrap her mind around what she thought she saw, Michael was before her. On his knees. What?

  “Shayna Washington. I’ve been running away from marriage for a long time. And the journey has led me straight to you. I’m through running. Will you marry me?”

  55

  “Umm . . . you taste good.” Michael lifted his head from between Shayna’s legs, where he’d just licked creamy caramel icing from her mound. “I think I want some more.” He reached over to where the now melting sundae sat on the nightstand, scooped up a spoonful of ice cream, chocolate, caramel, and nuts and placed it on her heat.

  “Ah!” Shayna shuddered as the cold cream hit her nub.

  Michael chuckled as he reached for one of the cherries languishing in the ice cream bowl, used it to swirl the ice cream around her love button, dragging the cherry between her folds, enjoying the quick intakes of breath as his love tried to hang on to the remaining shreds of her sanity. They’d been at it for well over two hours, ever since they’d left the sports store, declined late dinner invitations from retail execs, Dina DeVore, and Shayna’s besties, so that they could order room service instead. The meal had started out innocently enough: steak, potatoes, broccoli, rolls. Assuaging Michael’s sweet tooth is where things had gotten naughty. He ate the cherry, spread Shayna’s legs farther apart, and licked the melting ice cream away before it could hit the sheets.

  “Ooh, baby, wait.” Shayna pushed Michael’s head away from her, believing that otherwise she’d die from pleasure without having traveled to Brazil to run in the 2016 Olympics. But it wasn’t only that. It was the fact that she’d had a thing or two in mind herself when that ice cream was ordered, things she wanted to implement before the delicious dairy melted or ran out. “Lay back.”

  A lazy smile graced Michael’s face as he followed his new fiancée’s instruction. His engorged flagpole twitched and fluctuated as it rested against strong, hard abs. Shayna wrapped one hand around Master P, reached for the spoon and scooped up some of the sundae ingredients with the other, and ladled them on the massive tip with the precision of a sculptor. Then tossing the spoon onto the covers, she bent down her head and traced the tempting tip with her tongue before pulling his prize inside her mouth and licking it clean. Michael hissed long and low; his hips rose and fell of their own accord. Shayna enjoyed the feel of power as she ran her tongue from base to tip, outlining the thick vein that throbbed, sucking the mushroom into her mouth, massaging the length of him with her hands. Over and again she took in his piece, bobbing her head up and down to a rhythm that only she could hear, running her nails across Michael’s skin: his thighs, stomach, and up to his chest.

  She would have gone on forever but this alpha male could only be dominated for so long. He gently eased her head away from him, motioning for Shayna to move up, slide down, and then hang on for the ride. She did and he did: bouncing, grinding, moaning, moving, each trying to give the other all of themselves, to communicate a lifelong message in an age-old language. Skin-to-skin slapping was the only sound, aside from Michael’s low moans and Shayna’s quick intakes of breath. She would have done a Bill Pickett rodeo proud, so expertly did she ride his pony. He held her hips, thrusting himself off the mattress, trying to push through to her very core, to brand every part of her body with his own, to show her love in ways that words could not. Many women he’d been with, hundreds of them, he imagined. But never before had he felt the intensity of feelings that he had for this one, the desire to provide for, protect, and
preserve their love.

  After several long, arduous moments during which a thin sheen of sweat broke out on each lover, Michael once again changed the dance. He sat up, giving Shayna a slow, wet kiss as he twirled her nipples with one hand and scorched her heat with the other. She shivered as he ran a fingernail between her dripping folds, tweaking her love nub, and pressing his thick middle finger inside her. His forefinger joined the middle one as he set up a rhythm that was matched with his tongue. Shayna cried out with a release that had come on so quickly she had no time to brace herself. Instead she found herself face first into the pillows, her body experiencing one spasm after another. But Michael wasn’t done; the night was far from over.

  He lifted her to her knees and with one long, continuous thrust, buried himself inside her. Grinding himself against her body, he kissed her back, licking the salty wetness. With an unobstructed view of her glorious ass, he placed a hand on each cheek, threw back his head, closed his eyes, and concentrated as if he were creating a cure for cancer. In. Out. Up. Down. Thrusting, grinding, loving with every fiber of his being. And later, when both had given up every ounce of strength within them, they rode one last wave of ecstasy together before floating back down to earth into a cloud of sleep.

  56

  Several months later

  It was winter in many parts of the world, but on the beaches of Riviera Maya, Mexico, it was sunny and seventy-five with clear blue skies, turquoise water, and soft white sand. The intimate crowd of thirty people was seated at the water’s edge, where a white gazebo trimmed in lilacs had been erected. The dark pink color scheme was continued in the form of bows securing the stark white draping over each chair, in the color of the bridesmaid dresses and in the groomsmen’s ties. A soft murmur existed among the attendees, their voices floating across the summer breeze gathering on the wings of dusk. A red-orange sun throbbed in the distance, suspended between earth and sky, waiting to bear witness to yet another couple’s promise to “remain true to each other as long as you both shall live.”

 

‹ Prev