Love In the Red Zone (Connecticut Kings Book 1) (27 page)

I scoffed. “I don’t need a woman to cook and clean. Even before I got locked up, I did my own laundry sometimes…cooked sometimes. You gotta know how to fend for yourself. My housekeeper wasn’t always on duty.”

“That’s why you need two, and one need to be a live in. Take it from me, big homie. I tried telling StentRo’s ass. This a man’s world. You rich enough to make a bitch follow tradition. My dick may think, but my money talk, bro.”

“You know damn well if Tynisha was here, you wouldn’t be talking that shit.” I chuckled, spreading the clothes around in the bowl of the washing machine to make room.

“I pay for her to not have to assume her natural born role. Other than fuckin’ me right, Nisha ain’t got no real responsibilities.”

“Don’t forget bringing in coins, too.”

Tynisha was his wife, a fashion consultant turned reality television star. Her show had been running for almost ten years, making it one of the most popular. That all equated to dollars and cents on her own merit.

“Man, fuck that. Nisha got that show on the strength of me. The world watches
Taking Tips from Tynisha
to learn how to snag a paid baller like Alton Alston.” He grabbed his sack. “Don’t get that shit twisted, nigga!”

I busted out laughing at his little ass. His ego had been pricked with that one.

“I’m just saying, your life doesn’t reflect your advice. I’m good, playa.”

I finally made it down to my sheets and pulled the flat one out to shake before putting it in the machine. When I did the same with the fitted one, something flew in the air from the fold of it. It caught Al’s attention because he was the first to go for it. He held up the lavender lace panties, twirling them on his index finger in the air.

“Yeah, bitch!” He laughed. “Who ain’t getting no pussy? Who ‘on’t need no twat to survive in this male driven world, bih!”

Something in my damn belly leaped and my feet did the same and lunged at his little ass to grab the panties. Good thing I was quick, and successful at getting them. For some reason, I studied the panties as Al laughed his ass off, holding on to the countertop for support. I stood in place, dazed from the sight of her brashness.

“I’m looking for evidence of your woman.”

“Maaan! What woman?”

“The one that wants me to know she exists. She’ll let me know by leaving her shoes in a corner, combs or hair clips in the bathroom drawer. Or the ones who want your wife to know about her, by leaving her soiled panties in your sheets.”

My head began to spin with too many possibilities: being tricked, plotted on, pranked, or maybe this was an honest accident. Couldn’t have been. We hadn’t slept with each other to have her panties off in my bed. Most times, Jade didn’t wear panties. She said herself she didn’t like to sleep in them, which was why she never slept with Kyree unless he was sick. That only left one possibility…

She did this on purpose!

But when? That last night, Jade didn’t lay in bed. She even wore shorts, something I hadn’t seen since the first few of weeks of her moving in. This was planted for an undated time. Jade wasn’t only calculating with the panty-find: she left enough spaghetti—my favorite meal—and other foods to last me a few days while she was gone.

Still dazed from my internal musings, I slowly stuffed the panties in my back pocket and tossed the sheet in the wash to finally start the cycle. A gradual and heated smiled spread across my face. I couldn’t help it if I tried. That ballsy, fiery, sneaky girl was going to get me in some deep shit. And for once, that revelation did scare me.

“Damn, bro!” Al held his chest. “At least I know you can’t make good ass food like that. I was startin’ to wonder.” He threw me a suspect gaze before making a dramatic exit out of the room. 

“I missed you, Jade,” he whispered into my mouth.

My body hiked in the air, feather-weight, against the wall. My legs wrapped around his tapered waist, his thick cock swelled rigidly with the root pressed into my throbbing sex, and the body and head between our bellies. I’d just walked out from putting Ky down for bed after the long ride back to Jersey. I was going to get his toys from the trunk when I was accosted the moment I closed the door.

There was an unusual yet familiar gleam in Trent’s eyes and somber in the expression of his lips. He was disturbingly sexy shirtless, wearing a red baseball cap with the brim to the back, basketball shorts, and Timbs.

“What did you miss?” I asked with heavy lids, exhausted from the day and revved up by the ease of his sentiment.

“Everything.” Trent inhaled deeply. “The smell of your weave.” A wry smile curved his lips, telling how hard it was to admit that.

This was strange, but warm. Had I made the right call by going away with Kyree and his father’s family to give Trent and me needed space? Pressing my forehead against his, I lifted my locs from behind my shoulders, gathered them in my hands, and created a tent over his head and mine.

“There,” I whispered, immediately comforted by our proximity. My heart elated by his expression. “Two-week-out washed hair, all around you.”

“The best thing I’ve ever smelled...besides...” His eyes gestured below, between my thighs.

I slapped his back, stifling my shooting anger. “Stop, you hypocrite!”

But it was far from that accusation. For once, I felt welcomed by Trent, but the vividness of his rejection was something I’d never forget. And having his big appendage wedged between us didn’t help. He was sending mixed signals and I didn’t like it, neither did I deserve it.

“Put me down, Trent.” I demanded, the playful affection totally gone.

“Okay. Alright.” His smile didn’t falter. “I know, I’m on some bullshit.”

“Yes, you are,” I agreed through gritted teeth, roughly shoving my shirt down that had shifted up in his embrace. “I don’t know what you want from me. You want me to be more…gracious and ladylike, not fawning over your insanely sex body, but you come to me like this?” I swung my arms to his helmet-hard pecs, and crinkled abs. His shoulders were big balls and arms were ripped chords all entwined and knotted artwork. “You smell like a god!”

Trent tossed his head back in laughter. “I just got out of the shower, man, and I wanted to catch you before I took this math test online.

I nodded, remembering Trent was enrolled in school, taking online courses like me. It was one of the things I admired about him. Perseverance. And now that he was working with the
Kings
again he could stop, but obviously he hadn’t.

“First, I need to apologize for the other night.” Trent’s face sobered. “I got caught up with you…something that’s easy to do. I was doing a good job at fighting it, but seeing you in that…” He scratched the back of his head as he glanced back over his shoulder, uneasy.

“The lacy and very revealing slip
you
bought me for my birthday?” I lifted a brow with my arms crossed. “How did you think I’d receive that? As a parting gift of sorts?”

Trent exhaled and shook his head. “I didn’t think. I didn’t know how dangerous it was, but it won’t happen again.”

I blanched, felt burned again by his rejection.

His eyes ballooned. “No! Not like that. I would like to take it there with you one day. But not like that. I want to…make love to you when we do.”

“And we can’t now?” I studied him closely, desperate for answers.

“Not like I want to, no,” his voice was soft and tender.

“Well, when? When I leave?”

This time Trent recoiled at that statement. “I don’t know. I hope not, but either way, I want to treat you like a lady first. I want to earn it. I want to do the right thing and give you what you deserve.”

“Did you take this scenic route with all your previous sexual encounters? Or is the torture exclusively mine?”

My true gut feeling was Trent had been holding back because he still didn’t trust me.  

“No. But I wasn’t the man I am now with those women in the past. I want a new approach with you.”

“And how do you do that?”

“By dating you. You know… Taking you out to dinner and a movie, maybe taking you to meet my crazy friends. Acting normal… our age with no stress of responsibilities hanging over our heads.”

“Like an old fashion date where you hold the door?”

“Yup. And kiss you goodnight at your doorstep with my hands behind my back.” He smiled, exposing those big pearly whites. It was charming.

My eyes dropped to the floor and I scraped my bottom lip between my teeth. “I don’t have a doorstep yet, Trent.”

When I was able to peer up at him again, Trent was gesturing toward Kyree’s door. “This could always work.” He shrugged with his lips. “Let’s start tomorrow night with a movie.”

I frowned, something was bothering me. “I’ll concede to dating before jumping your bones. I’ll even let you kiss me goodnight here. But I’m still sleeping in your bed if I choose.” I glared at him.

A slow sexy, torturing, and mouthwatering smile opened on Trent’s face.