Games Divas Play (A Diva Mystery Novel) (9 page)

I told my best friend that when we first started receiving the letters six months ago, they always seemed to arrive when Marcus was on the road for an away game, and I showed them to him immediately when he
returned.

At first we both chalked it up to some random weirdo who had somehow managed to get our home address. After all, in the age of Google, you can basically find anyone these days. But then the e-mails and text messages started coming, and I begged Marcus to go to the police. He talked it over with Kareem and Desiree who said if they went to the police, it would kill the trade with New York. They explained that questions were still swirling on the gossip blogs trying to link Marcus to the dead dancer, so this crazy stalker stuff would definitely spook the ultraconservative Gladiators org
anization.

Marcus would be labeled high risk, and no matter how stringently their lawyers drafted the morals clause, they wouldn’t be able to fix the damage. This was a risk the Gladiators wouldn’t be willing to take, especially given that their last big franchise player, Clint Beck, had been convicted of killing his wife after finding out she’d had an affair with a player on another team just three short
years ago.

Marcus had long dreamed of playing professional basketball in a New York Gladiators uniform, and so he and Kareem begged me not to go to the police. Dutiful wifey that I was, I knew I couldn’t stand in my husband’s way. Kareem beefed up their personal security with two full-time bodyguards named Tyson and Bruce, and had CIA-level security installed throughout the house. We also kept a gun locked in a safe in our closet. I even took a series of shooting lessons at a local gun range, becoming a fairly decent shot. And once the trade went through, Marcus and Kareem assured me that the stalker was likely some crazed local and that we would all be safe in a
new city.

But Nia wasn’t having
any of it.

“What do you mean Kareem said you couldn’t?” Nia raised her voice again, causing people to loo
k our way.

“Sssshhh! Can you keep your voice down?” I hissed. “I don’t need this get
ting out.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what you need: for this to get out so the police can protect you and your family, Vanessa! I know he’s family, but how much longer are you going to let that man run y
our life?”

I shuddered as I remembered the terror I felt nearly six months ago as soon as I opened the first envelope, which contained a slashed-up photo of Marcus picking up Damon fr
om school.

And now this monster had tracked our family to
New York.

CHAPTER 6

Laila

W
e ar
e in love.

There’s no other way to put it. And nothing, or no one, is going to stand i
n our way.

I cradled Marcus’s head on my chest as he slept and kissed the top of his head. He stirred in his sleep, nuzzling my breast as he pulled my naked body closer to his. The early-morning sunlight began to peak through the heavy curtains and cast steaks of light across the sheets. Our limbs were intertwined. We couldn’t get close enough to each other. This was heaven. I felt something stirring below his waist hitting the curve of my thigh. Round three would begin soon. He loved a taste of his brown sugar in th
e morning.

I know I don’t have
much time.

Careful so as not to wake him, I slowly stretched my right arm across the bed to the nightstand and felt around for my phone. My fingers danced on the marble top. After pushing two condom wrappers onto the floor, I found the phone behind them. Marcus shifted and pushed himself deeper into my leg. I knew he’d be awake soon and hungry for m
ore of me.

Cell phone in hand, I quickly opened the camera application and pushed the button to turn the lens around toward us. I made sure to frame the shot to get his face and then adjusted the sheet to cover just the tops of my dark brown nipples. I looked down lovingly at my man and snapped
the photo.

I’d love to take video of what I knew was about to happen next, but that would have to wait for ano
ther time.

After the video of us leaving the hotel hit the Internet, as I expected, Marcus had started to pull away from me. He texted me that we needed to cool things off until the noise around the video quieted down. He had a few shopping bags from Chanel sent over to my apartment, which let me know I was still on his mind. I told him I understood and would b
e patient.

I knew Vanessa was giving him hell, so the best strategy for me was to be understanding and loving versus the bitchy hysterical nag he was likely endurin
g at home.

Married women don’t understand that while a major part of what makes a man cheat is of course the sexual desire they feel for women like me, the part that makes a man go deeper and lose all sense of rational behavior and fall in love is the way I make him feel. If I’m a sanctuary in life’s storm—meaning a nagging wife—he would always come running back to me. So it was a few weeks before we saw each other again, but I was determined to make sure it was well worth
his wait.

So when Kareem arranged to fly me to Chicago, I was ready with a plan. And since I knew Marcus would be feeling a little nervous about his wife sweating him about the video, and might be taking some heat from the conservative Gladiators organization, I knew I’d need to really pull out something special to keep h
im hooked.

The New York Gladiators beat the Chicago Blaze handily 106–89 that evening, so Marcus was in an especially good mood when he unlocked the door to our hotel suite. When he stepped in, I could tell he was pleased with wh
at he saw.

Freshly showered after the game, he smelled like soap and the Dolce & Gabbana cologne I loved. His deep ebony complexion was freshly scrubbed, and the sexy stubble along his cheeks framing his bright white smile made him irresistible. He was dressed in black wool pants and a crisp gray shirt that peeked out from the collar of a thick black cashmere sweater that zipped up the front. The sleeves were pushed up and exposed his powerful forearms and his custom platinum and diamond-encrusted watch. Damn, he lo
oked good.

But I knew I looked ev
en better.

I greeted my man, dressed in a crimson plunging silk corset that laced up the back and matching sheer panties with a black garter belt, stockings, and eight-inch crystal-encrusted Christian Louboutin Daffodil platform pumps. My hair cascaded in long, glossy honey-blond curls swooped to one side and laid in a pool at the top of my breast. I looked into his dark eyes, which were hooded by long lashes, and kissed him deeply, sucking on his beautiful chocolate
lower lip.

“Oh, you taste so good,” I purred as I pulled the zipper down on his sweater and slid the soft fabric off his broad shoulders onto the floor. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and leaned my body into his. He picked me up with one arm and started to untie the silky straps along the back of my corset with
the other.

“Not yet, baby,” I teased playfully. “Come on in and see how much I’ve missed you.” I gave him a glass of his favorite scotch, which was sitting on the table in
the foyer.

The lights were dim, and there were scented votive candles around the sunken living room that overlooked the twinkling lights of the city and Lake Michigan. I led him over to a chair in the center of the room and told him to take a seat. He finished his drink while I picked up a rectangular velvet box off the coffee table. I walked back over to him and asked him t
o open it.

“What do you plan to do with those?” Marcus asked in a husky voice as he took out a pair of silver diamond-studded handcuffs, which sparkled against the black satin lining of the box. I laughed softly, took the handcuffs from his hand, and slipped them onto his wrists while I leaned in to kiss and softly lic
k his ear.

“Are you ready for the show?” I asked as I nibbled on his ear and moved down
his neck.

“Oh, I think I’m ready,” he said, looking down at the rising fabric of his wo
ol slacks.

“Well, then let’s get this party started,” I said as I stepped away from Marcus and walked slowly over to the French doors leading to the bedroom so that he could appreciate the view. I pushed open the doors, and standing there waiting was the evening’s ente
rtainment.

“Marcus, I want you to meet Crystal,” I said, looking over my should
er at him.

Crystal, a brunette beauty with warm olive skin, full red lips, and piercing green eyes, wore a tight black leather corset, matching thong, and thigh-high black leather platform boots. Her straight jet-black hair hung down her back, the ends grazing the top of her thong. She was gorgeous if I did say so myself. Clearly not as fabulous as me, but she would do. I turned to look at Marcus and could tell he appreciated my
selection.

I picked up the leather leash dangling from the diamond choker around Crystal’s neck and led her into the living room. I turned on some music, and Raheem DeVaughn began
to croon.

“Crystal wants to dance for you,” I said as we made our way to him. “Is that all rig
ht, baby?”

“Hell, yeah. That sounds good to me,” he said as he looked at both of us and licked his lips. “But it would be even better if I didn’t have these hand
cuffs on.”

“That’s all part of the fun,” I said, laughing huskily as I unclipped Crystal’s leather leash and went to stand behind Marcus. My arms snaked around to the front of his body so that I could unbutton his shirt while Crystal began to move seductively in the candlelight. Dark shadows from her undulating body danced off the walls as she began her pe
rformance.

“Do you like that?” I asked Marcus as I bit his ear gently. Crystal bent over and began to flash her round bottom in
his face.

“Oh, don’t you want some of that?” I asked as I raked my nails along his broad chest and began to work my way down to his belt buckle. “Look at that juic
y bounce.”

Crystal wound her body slowly like a snake and whipped her long black hair back and forth across Marcus’s chest. Standing in front of him, she put her hands on his knees and leaned in. I felt her warm breath on the left side of his neck. She played with his other ear as I kept whispering dirty little nothings to him. Her breasts were pressed against his chin. She reached around and unsnapped her corset, freeing her full breasts and displaying her erect dark nipples. She squeezed them and popped one of the long brown nipples in
his mouth.

“Suck on it, baby,” I encouraged. Marcus moaned. I could feel him straining against the handcuffs. I knew he wanted his hands free to really enjo
y himself.

As Marcus continued to lick hungrily at Crystal’s glistening breasts, she sat in his lap and began to grind her hips into him. She arched her head and back, thrusting into him, and the long strands of her hair grazed the carpeted floor. I pushed Marcus’s open shirt off his muscled shoulders and massaged and squeezed
his arms.

“Ride it,” I commanded Crystal. “Does that feel good
, Marcus?”

“Oh, yeah, but it would feel better if it was you,”
he moaned.

“Oh, it will be, baby. Believe me, I’m going to enjoy you all night. But let’s have some more fun with Crystal
for now.”

I gave Crystal a look so that she realized I wasn’t so caught up in her show not to remember that I told her she better not make my man orgasm. That was my job. And I could tell Marcus was just about ready for me. She got my message and began to wind up her performance with the b
ig finish.

As she danced in front of him, I came from behind him and sat in his lap facing Crystal. His bulge had stretched out long and strong and strained against
his pants.

Crystal leaned into me, and just as we had planned, she began to kiss me along my neck and reached out to untie the laces of my corset as I pushed my bottom back into Marcus. When the corset was completely undone, I raised my arms for Crystal to lift it up over my head. Marcus’s breath began to quicken, and his wet tongue danced across my bare back. He was thrusting, pushing up into me from the chair as best he could with his arms r
estrained.

Crystal came back over and straddled us both. She wrapped her arms around Marcus’s shoulders to steady herself as she began to grind her hips into mine, pushing me back into Marcus’s lap. I threw my head onto Marcus’s shoulder and closed my eyes as he began to kiss the other side of my neck. The pleasure intensified, our three bodies locked into one rhythm as we rocked back and forth in
the chair.

Wet and more than ready to pleasure my man, I decided it was time to wrap up Crystal’s performance. As I opened my eyes to give Crystal the signal, I saw her tongue snaking along the side of Marcus’s cheek, heading toward
his mouth.

Oh, hell no. I was very clear. Everybody knows in a successful threesome, you don’t let the other girl kiss or actually screw your man. Crystal was the appetizer, and I was the main course. That’s why you can’t trust strippers around
your man.

Stabilizing myself against Marcus’s thighs, I suddenly pushed my body up, causing Crystal to tumble hard to the floor onto
her back.

“Damn, what the hell . . . ?” Crystal said, pushing her hair out of her eyes as she stood up, rubbing her bruis
ed bottom.

“Sorry, boo. I think we’re finished with this evening’s per
formance.”

I could hear Marcus chuckle behind me. He knew why I’d done it, and that was fine with him because he was just as ready to get to the m
ain event.

I scooped up Crystal’s leather corset and leash from the floor, grabbed her trench coat from the hall closet, and then led her to the door. I handed her an envelope with her fee and shoved her whining ass out
the door.

“Now where were we?” I said to Marcus when I returned to the room with a small silver key in my hand. I stood in front of him in my red panties, garter, and heels, stroking the key down my bare breasts. “You got somethin
g for me?”

“You know I do, and I’m going to show you as soon as you take these damn cuffs off. Stop playi
ng, girl.”

I walked behind him, dropped down on my knees, and unlocked the cuffs. Marcus stood up and began massaging h
is wrists.