Love Delivered (47 page)

His strong arms pull me on top of him and into his chest. The dim light from the far end of the room illuminates his sexy sleep face. He smiles at me, amused for some strange reason.

“You were making that clicking sound with the back of your throat. I think it turns me on now more than ever.” His unabashed smile slightly exposes his teeth.

I adore this man. I need to not feel guilty about my strong feelings for him. I need to simply accept that I’m in love, uncontrollably, undeniably connected to Stenton.

“I want so much that it could be too much,” I murmur.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“I want you, for starters.” A lazy smile crests upon his face. “I want you for Jordan, of course, but I feel like I need you for me—but not in an
I’ll die without you
manner…more of an
I
like the way I feel because of our connection,
which makes me more confident in my goals. I feel so protected by you and supported by your side.”

Stenton bursts out in laughter. His chest vibrates beneath me.

“What’s so funny?” I feel my face wrinkle. I’m too raw right now to not be offended.

“You’re such a damn feminist, Zo.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are, and it’s cool. Just as long as you understand as my lady, I don’t need the pomp and circumstance for you to simply say you’re in love with me. That you’re enjoying not having control of what you feel for me, and that you’re afraid to let go. There needs to be no articulation or cognition of it. You are in love. You want to be with me. You don’t feel secure in letting go in your mind, but in your heart you have this strong inclination to ride with me. It’s scary as shit, but you wouldn’t change it if you could because it’s organic and feels fucking good.”

Stenton lost his smile words ago.

“How can you be so confident about what I’m feeling?” I argue.

“Because I feel it, too. Don’t you think I have fears of you, with your stubborn independent ways, feeling I’m not enough? That my role as the lover in your life, the leader of your family isn’t going to be enough? I worry about what identity I’ll take on when I retire. I recognize you’re in a different place in your tenure and will go full steam ahead whether I like it or not. I fear you may leave me behind in your next pursuit of taking over the world.”

He brushes a loose lock of hair behind my ear. “But fuck those fears. Win or lose, I’m taking this journey with you, no matter what. I want to be by your side. I’ve only been considering it since that day at the
Moorestown Creek
country club when you told me you were against marriage.”

My breath caught in my chest.
Holy mother of Joseph!
Was he thinking marriage back then?

Possibly reading my mind, Stenton slowly nods his head as his eyes lock with mine.

“I’m not against marriage, Stenton. I just don’t see it as an end goal. It shouldn’t be viewed as the ultimate destination.”

“Then what is?”

I steel in place, thrown by his question. Not the one for being cornered, a bawdy thought occurs and I crack a conspirator’s smile. I gather the blanket in my hands and shift my body down his tree trunk of a frame.

“You can let me know after your happy ending.” I can’t fight my wide grin.

Once I take his steely rod into my mouth and hands, I can hear Stenton’s audible sigh and once again, I’m in a libidinous zone that I thrive in only with this man. Stenton Rogers, the father of my son, my lover and partner. Not Stenton Rogers,
Number 2 Overall Draft Pick
,
three-time MVP Awardee
, and
four-time Champion,
Stenton Rogers. I work Stenton over as I bask in knowing our shared fears. I fist him exhilarated by our uncharted journey lying ahead. And when I think his happy ending…our happy ending has finally arrived, he flips me onto my stomach and enters me.

He drives into me with more confidence than he alluded to having about our impending future. My undoing occurs when he indelicately grabs me at the forehead, turning my face over my shoulder and greedily pushes his tongue into my mouth, devouring me. The combination is feral and heady. Before I know it, my body is crudely vibrating and Stenton is swallowing my cries of ecstasy.

Sleep falls upon me immediately this time. I said I’d rest my eyes for twenty minutes or so before leaving for my early start at work. It becomes clear to me that this plan is derailed when sounds of light raps at the door stir me from my sleep.

What abruptly hurls me is the sound that is so keen to my psyche strains, “Dad, I’m hungry.”

Jordan!

“Shit! JR,” Stenton groans far more unaffected than my alarmed nerves allow.

“Daddy, why is the door locked?”

I fall to the floor farthest away from the door, trying to hide.

“The fuck?” Stenton shrills. I peek over the bed and see him glaring down in my direction as he calmly pulls on his sweat pants and ties them. “I’m coming, JR.” he shouts louder.

“Okay,” my baby whines.

I duck again.
What time is it?
The sounds of the door opening doubles my heart rate. I exhale when I hear the door shut and Stenton’s mumbled words outside of the room.

“You go pee and wash your hands and I’ll get breakfast ready, deal?” I could make out those words from Stenton.

This is great! I can grab my coat and my shoes and sneak out before Jordan comes down to eat.
But first I have to pee.

When I land at the bottom of the steps, I can hear Stenton rummaging through the pantry, talking to himself. Without signaling my departure and risking Jordan finding out that his mom is screwing his dad, I make a dash for the front door. I make it home to quickly shower and dress for work. It isn’t until I am leaving for the bakery that I get the text.

Why the fuck did you leave? And then not tell me? We WILL discuss this later!

I cringe at the rage shooting from my phone as I jog to my car. These creeping activities don’t end here. It goes on for weeks. Stenton and I make the most of our rekindling period as we hump like rabid animals.

Now

August 2014

~
Zoey
~

“You look so good, Ang. Just happy,” Karen offers as she enters the dining room.    

“Thanks, KK. I am,” Angela smiles giddy, tossing twinkling eyes over to Andy, a musician from Harlem.

They’ve been dating for eight months, and I have to admit, Angela has been glowing since meeting him. I’m also relieved her period of dating is over, even if only temporarily, though this feels like more. She’s invited him over to Karen and B.J.’s house in Clifton for what’s turned out to be our first unofficial couples night—with the kids, who are in another room playing. Karen and B.J. closed on this cape-cod style starter home back in February and are just about settled in.

Dinner was great, and Karen is a wholesome host. B.J. isn’t his typical reserved self, more interested in talking sports with Stenton than anything. It’s not uncomfortable or fanatic, so Stenton is totally open to and entertained by it. It’s clear he likes B.J. and I’m relieved. Stenton can be weird with people outside of the industry and I get why.

I can’t help my need to caress the side of his stubbled face, reveling in his being with me. Loving the close proximity that allows me to feel his natural body heat emanate next to me. Stenton turns to me. His face is impassive, but his slanted eyes return all the affection I need. Not only does good sex do that to you, but being in love as well. I’m in love. I adore Stenton and I can be publically expressive about it. And he returns it…publicly. He actually prefers it that way, has made very clear that those first few weeks of our rekindling was difficult for him because I didn’t touch him. They were hard for me, too.

“I see I’m not the only one on love’s cloud,” Angela announces to the table. “Look at this one over here.”

I toss a glance in her direction and can see the table gaping our way. I offer a sheepish grin as I try to straighten in my seat. I can get very carried away with Stenton, so easily become deluded in his presence just as before, but this time I can let go, because he wants it all.

I clear my throat. “Touché,” I reply.

“I’m happy for you both,” Karen gushes. “I think this is the first time the three of us have been in love at the same time since you two were in junior high. I was with Donnie Brown, Zo was with Thaddeus McCray, and Larry Johnson for Angela.”

“Ha!” I yelp. “I remember them days. Man, that was long ago!”  

“So, long I don’t know why you’re recalling,” B.J. playfully scolds his wife.

Karen rolls her eyes. “Boy, bye!”

“I’m just glad that it’s over…well, at least I hope it is,” Angela sighs.

“Holy mother of Joseph!” I gasp and Karen shrieks simultaneously.

Angela isn’t offended by our shock.

“I do!” she whines as she gazes at Andy. “This better be it. I’m done with the dating. I’m ready to feel secure again. To build with that some
one
again.”

“And she’s turned into a sappy traditionalist.” I jeer.

The table goes up in laughter, even Stenton lends his mirth.

“No, really! Zo, you know it was no fun out there. Men should come with warning labels because most of them have so much shit up their sleeves. They should read: ‘
I’m a pathological liar.
’ ‘
I’m gay, but don’t want to admit it yet.
’ ‘
I just need someplace to live and someone with good credit.’
‘
I only want sex.
’ I mean, really! It’s scary out there. Right, Zoey? I don’t know about you, but at first I thought having random sex would be good for me, you know? But even that got boring.”

“Speak for yourself, Ang,” I chuckle. “I actually think all women should experience and embrace singlehood. You learn so much about yourself via successful and failed relationships...good or bad sex. The experience itself is paramount.” I go for my ice tea.

“To hell with that!” Ang slams her glass defiantly on the wooden tabletop. “Bad sex is not paramount. Being out there for so long feels like...dammit execration.”

Ang with her outdated references.

I chuckle at her candor. It takes a moment, but I soon realize Stenton goes rigid next to me.  With a wide smile and soft eyes, I whisper, “Is everything okay?” He gives two brief nods and goes for his drink. Something’s obviously off, but I’m too embarrassed to ask directly. This isn’t looking good for my plans tonight. We’re staying in Alpine because I have the day off tomorrow and Stenton has an NBA commercial shoot in New York City first thing in the morning. We figure Jordan and I will hang out around the pool and wait for him to be done then drive back down to Philly together.

“Brook
lyyyyyn
!” Angela shouts. “It’s time to go! I have to have you to your father’s soon.”

“Call Jordan while you’re at it.” I joke, but not really. I turn to Stenton while snickering to find his eyes hidden from me. That never feels good to me.

We all leave out fifteen minutes later, promising to do this again soon. It really was fun. In the car, Jordan sits between his dad and me, nestled into my torso. He’s tired and still trying to come down from his time with his cousins.

“Mommy, am I gonna have to take a bath when we get home?”

“We’re going to Daddy’s in Alpine, not to Philly. And yes, you will have to take a bath—”  

“It’s our home, not just Daddy’s,” Stenton growls.

I jerk my neck and flutter my eyes, standing corrected. I’m sure my teasing smile further frustrates him. “Well, alrighty
then
.”

Stenton turns back to brooding in the window.

“Mommy, I’m sleepy,” Jordan admits over a yawn as he further snuggles into my side. Jordan always announces his exhaustion. “Daddy’s cranky-danky ‘cause he’s sleepy, too.”

My bright eyes shoot down to a closed-eyed Jordan and then over to Stenton whose attention that observation got as well, only sans the grin I wore. Stenton shakes his head then returns back to the window watching in the black night.

If Jordan was attempting to ensure he wouldn’t have to bathe before going to bed he succeeds. Stenton ends up carrying him to bed and changing a deadweight six year old into his pajamas.

As he closes the door to Jordan’s bedroom, I attempt to throw him my “
let’s get nasty”
eyes only to have Stenton completely ignore me, train his eyes ahead and keep his stride to the bedroom. I follow, but now with the stubborn resolve of going to bed without having him all over me and inside of me first. After all, I guess I should be satiated, considering we rolled around my walk-in closet in Philly before Stenton left for training this morning. I can’t get enough of him. Sex has been fun, exciting, experimental, and downright therapeutic. And he tolerates me no matter the hour, showing me something new each time, teaching me more about my body along the way. And it’s clear to me, none of that will be taking place tonight.

So, yeah, tonight I’ll chill out. I don’t have time for petulant Stenton. He reminds me of the moody Stenton who presented me with my first luxury car and the one who broke my heart after the Cayman Islands. I won’t tolerate that person. I already have a child to placate; I refuse to do it with his father, too.

StentRo, you’re on your own, bud.

I go straight into the en suite of his master bedroom and run myself a hot bath. While it’s running, I skip down the steps and into the pantry to pour myself a large glass of wine. If there’s one gripe I have about Karen and B.J.’s hosting it’s that they don’t serve alcohol. I know Karen drinks on occasion, but B.J. doesn’t, so there goes buzzed gatherings at their place. When I’m back upstairs, I light candles and shut the faucet off once the monstrous tub is filled.

After quickly stripping down to nothing, I step into the Jacuzzi and find my place of comfort right away. My mind turns over things immediately, starting with Jordan and his impending school year. He’s ready, but I always want him in the position to excel. Then I think about how the start of the school year will affect the bakery sites. Will it drum up traffic or not? Not all of the locations are near schools. I need to address the two that are. Then I think about the upcoming basketball season and how that will take a toll on my family. This time will be different because Stenton and I are
together
. We actually date and talk each night, sometimes while holding hands if not just touching on any body part having passed out from love-making. This will be disrupted soon. If I know Stenton, he will make sure he’s with Jordan and me every opportunity he finds, but things are certainly going to change. 

Just as my anxiety starts to rise I sense his presence and glance up to find him standing over the tub, stark naked with his miniature baseball bat patently present. Stenton steps inside and plants himself directly across from me, reminding me why this tub is almost the size of a miniature pool. He pulls my left foot into his hand and slowly rubs my feet, still hiding his eyes from me. I enjoy seeing my foot against his inked chest. I sigh heavily as I relax into the water, immersing myself even deeper. We sit quietly for a while.

When the silence becomes too thick, I mutter, “You’re going back to work soon.” Stenton doesn’t reply. “Jordan and I are going to miss having you around.”

I’m not bothered by his reticence, but don’t want to get used to it. One of my favorite things to do is to talk to Stenton, exploring his high aptitude. It’s easy to forget about his amazing intellectual capacity because he selectively exposes it, and he certainly doesn’t wear it among the tats and rough exterior.

“Are you going to let us sneak into your suites during your away games?” I ask with humor in my eyes.

And that’s when I get his eyes. I find no humor, but there is definitely preoccupation in them as he shifts in place, disrupting the stillness of the water. He pulls my leg to the left and grabs me at the right thigh, pushing that open as well. My face wrinkles in disbelief as he ducks underneath the rather hot water and pushes his face into the apex of my thighs. My eyes go wild when I feel his thick tongue lap my clitoris. And when his big hands reach up and pull at my nipples, pulling them into peaks, I moan into the air. My thoughts are on Stenton’s endurance under water and his intentions for me while down there. That thought is interrupted after some time when Stenton’s tweaking of my breasts increases and the swiping of his magical tongue moves at the same rate, I feel a quickening in my groin. Spun out of control that quickly, I grab his head, pushing my sex into his busy face as I position myself to let go. And I do.

“Oh, goodness!”

I gyrate with wild abandon in the water splashing it each way, not caring about anything but Stenton’s gifted tongue and fingers puppeteering my body.

“Steeeeen!” I cry out, unable to anchor myself against my harsh movements while my body undergoes a violent orgasm felt from the nail bed of my toes to the pores of my scalp. 

I don’t know how long my body spasms, can’t say how long Stenton remains underwater. I do, however, recognize when I’m pulled from the Jacuzzi and into his frame where I wrap my legs around his waist.

“Oh, yessss!” I suck in a breath when I feel him breaching my labia. I relax against him to allow him total entry. Stenton’s girth is none like I’ve ever seen much less experienced.

I guess they’re right.
My mother, Angela, and even Karen have recently suggested how much Stenton spoils me. No matter how drained he is after training or traveling for meetings or endorsement obligations, if I ask him to show somewhere before resting, Stenton is there even if kicking and screaming along the way. Just like tonight. I thought it was a wash, but he turns around and gives me what I wanted. With my eyes sealed and mouth agape in ecstasy, I smile at my accomplishment.

Putting up with his mood swings has some benefits.      

When I open them again and peer down at Stenton, his expression is rigid, face tight and eyes strained in a manner not typical during sex.

“
Wh
-what’s wrong?” His powerful hip thrusts chop my words.

“Have you been fucked like this?”

What?

I recall him saying he didn’t want to talk about our former relationships. But right now I can see it all in his face, he needs assurance. Is that what this has been about? His sudden attitude? He’s gone alpha-male, territorial.

Fighting against the mounting desire stirring within, I shake my head, no. I don’t want to prolong the topic or the awkward place their mention puts me in.

“Did they make you come like I do?” His face still set into a scowl.

His demeaning questions aren’t in accordance to the pleasure my body is reveling in now. I’m vulnerable, open…tender in this act. This is now turning humiliating.
Why is he doing this to me?
Or is he doing it to himself? I’ve seen Stenton unsure, apologetic, and even tortured, but I’ve never seen him so insecure. Yet and still, I don’t want to talk about those experiences. They weren’t good. They were awkward, selfish and ill-motivated. They weren’t Stenton.

Stenton begins to roll his hips in a different direction and rhythm. My eyes squeeze to control the new level of sensations inundating my entire frame. I don’t want to talk about them. Not only is the time inappropriate, but reminiscing about them can take me back to a dark place. It will bring back unpleasant thoughts of me resigning to mediocrity.