Love in Play

by Zuri Day

  Dominique figured that Jake was right. She nodded and told him, “Come on.”

  On the drive over to her house, Jake pondered the concerns about Justin that Dominique had shared and wondered how he’d feel if it were his child. Jake had no experience in the daddy department. The familiar feelings of hurt mixed with longing rose unbidden. Flashes of life with his father: the football tosses, movie watching, men-only hunting trips with all of the brothers. The worst day of his life—when his mother broke the news that Jake Sr. had died—and the second worst day, his father’s funeral.

  Then there was Robin and the discussions they’d had as newlyweds. She’d wanted to start a family right away, but Jake’s fears had blocked those desires. How could he bring a child into this world, only to leave him or her during its formative years? This is what Jake believed—that even if he had a child, he wouldn’t live to see it grown. His father hadn’t. His favorite uncle hadn’t. His oldest brother, Harold, was nearing fifty and experiencing the same heart problems that had taken out both of those men. At forty-five, the next son, Mike, had experienced a heart scare two years ago. That both of these men were sixty to seventy pounds overweight made little difference to Jake. For the McDonalds, matters of the heart took on a whole different meaning and even though Jake and his twin, Johnny, were the health fanatics, the legacy of heart disease and the havoc it could wreak in a young man’s life were never far from Jake’s thoughts. A couple weeks before the aneurysm, Robin had started bugging him again. “Come on,” she’d whined. “You’ll make a great father.” Jake had agreed to think about it, had begun entertaining the possibility. And then, once again, death had come knocking.

  I wish you were my dad.

  Jake closed his eyes against the memory, while wondering for the umpteenth time if he should tell Dominique what her son had uttered that day he gave him a ride home after tutoring him. “I’m built like my father,” Jake had told him, when Justin had questioned him about his size. And that’s when Justin had uttered the six words that had imprinted themselves on his mind.

  She needs to know, Jake thought as he pulled into the driveway of Dominique’s well-landscaped home. But not tonight. This visit wasn’t about having a discussion. Once Jake got behind Dominique’s closed door once again, he didn’t intend for there to be a whole lot of talking.

  23

  Dominique yawned, glad she’d made it through the magazine’s weekly pitch session. Besides the double-shot espresso, the only thing that had kept her awake was Emily’s exciting feature idea for the magazine’s summer issue, which would be focused on shedding those winter pounds in anticipation of a long, hot summer. Dominique had heard of JaJuan “Night” Simmons and his popular LA gym known for its trend-setting workouts and party atmosphere. While the senior writer’s outline mentioned these components, the focus of her article would be on one particular program, called J.E.W.E.L.S. Geared toward overweight women, this program combined proper exercise with a sensible diet and was championed by Night’s wife D’Andra, who was not only a dietician and nutritionist but was also the poster child for this regimen’s potential success. The couple’s story was the stuff of movies. With Night as her personal trainer, D’Andra had lost sixty pounds and gained a husband. Their first child, JaJuan Jr., had been born six months ago and once again D’Andra would be the example for losing pounds—these the post-baby kind. The magazine would track and document her progress for the next four months, and in the six-page photo spread of the gym and the family behind it would be before-and-after pictures of this modern working woman and proud new mom.

  “Ooh, Miss Dom!” Reggie pranced into Dominique’s office decked in a loud orange shirt with ruffles and puffed sleeves. Ensconced in light-colored snakeskin pants, he had a booty that most women would envy. “I think I’m in love!”

  “With Quinn?” Dominique asked dryly. “Boy, you go through men like I do pantyhose.”

  “Not Quinn,” Reggie answered, placing a pile of photos on her desk. “With him.”

  Dominique laughed as she took the pictures that Reggie had gathered of Night Simmons. “He is easy on the eyes,” she admitted. “But he’s also a husband and new father. I don’t think you’re his type”

  “Hmph. That’s just because he ain’t had this type before.”

  “You’d better stop playing, or else I’ll be forced to replace you on this upcoming shoot.”

  “I’ll behave, I promise,” Reggie said with an exaggerated batting of the eyes. “But if he finds me irresistible, don’t get mad at me. Who wouldn’t choose this,” he ran his hands over narrow hips, “over that Jell-O-Pudding sistah who just had his kid?”

  Dominique’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, Reggie. You’re about to get on my bad side. I was once that Jell-O-Pudding who’d just had a child.”

  “Sorry, boss, but you know I’m just wishful thinking. I already got the 411 on him from one of his instructors.” Reggie sighed. “He’s totally faithful.”

  Dominique laughed at Reggie’s emoting. “Well, thank God for that.”

  The two settled in, with Dominique planning out the rest of the week and Reggie making notes to ensure that his boss’s wishes were followed. Before either knew it, lunch time had arrived. Reggie returned to his desk and just as Dominique finished writing the editor’s note for the spring “get in shape” edition, her cell phone rang. She smiled and answered.

  “What are you doing?” Jake asked without preamble.

  “Just finished up a project and thinking about lunch. What about you?”

  “Meet me at my house in fifteen minutes.”

  Dominique scowled slightly. “Why?”

  “Because it’s lunchtime, you’re hungry, and I’m cooking. Now stop asking questions and get over here.”

  Dominique shivered even though her office thermostat was set on seventy-five degrees. She was surprised at her body’s reaction, given the fact that Jake had kept her up most of the night, leaving just before dawn. They’d made love twice but her body reacted as if it was love-starved and it had been eons since she’d experienced a man’s touch. Dominique looked at the day’s itinerary, noting that no other meeting was scheduled until three o’clock. She reached for her purse and headed toward the door as she answered, “I’m on my way.”

  After making a quick stop at the bathroom, Dominique left the floors of Capricious magazine. Traffic was light, so she reached Jake’s house in ten minutes. His truck was parked in the drive and Dominique pulled her car up behind it. Feeling delicious and decadent, she placed her four-inch heels on the pavement and within seconds was knocking on Jake’s door.

  “Damn, you look good.” That was Jake’s greeting before he folded Dominique in his arms and seared her with a long, wet kiss. Dominique’s bare nana screamed its agreement, the panties she’d shed in the bathroom now occupying a corner of her purse. Jake looked good, too, she decided, dressed in a tight navy tee and simple black warm-ups. His size-fourteen feet were encased in leather Jordans, and the woodsy scent that loosely clung to his body was about to drive a girlfriend wild. Dominique eased her hand into his waistband and pulled at his top.

  “Whoa, wait a minute, baby. When I told you I’d fixed you a meal, I meant food.”

  “Oh.”

  Jake grabbed Dominique’s hand and led her toward the kitchen. That his chest puffed out a bit more at her obvious sexual hunger was an understatement. I’m the man was written all over his face. They passed Jake’s dining room en route to the kitchen. Indeed, there was a table setting for two, complete with water glasses already filled. They reached the kitchen and Jake grabbed a towel before opening the oven, pulling out two perfectly baked pieces of farm-fresh salmon.

  “The plates are in the far left cabinet,” he said over his shoulder. “Salad bowls are there as well.”

  A few minutes later, he and Dominique were seated at the dining-room table enjoying a simple yet satisfying lunch of salmon, salad, and corn on the cob. Large chunks of French bread dripping in no
n-hydrogenated margarine rounded out the meal. Dominique learned that Jake’s two hours of free time had come courtesy of a teachers’ meeting in which his participation was not required. He showed real interest as she shared her enthusiasm about the upcoming article on fitness, having attended the opening of Night Simmons’s gym, which was called Body By Night. The unexpected midday reprieve was so enjoyable that Dominique totally forgot about her first assumption—an hour filled with hot, lusty sex. Once finished, she followed Jake into the kitchen, placing her dishes in the dishwasher next to his.

  “That was delicious, Jake,” she said after washing her hands at the kitchen sink and preparing to walk out the door. “And this was a nice change of pace in my day. Thanks for inviting me.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips and headed toward the dining room and the front door.

  As she passed the dining room table, Jake grabbed her from behind. “Not so fast,” he whispered, his breath hot and heavy against her right earlobe. “There’s still dessert.”

  Dominique melted against his broad chest as his fingers sought and found their destination underneath her dress. She stood in four-inch heels, legs spread, body dripping with desire, Jake’s fingers feeling every drop. Without a word, he guided her to the table, his hand on her back silently instructing her to strike an easy-access pose. She did, turning around and raising her wrinkle-free skirt. After hearing the snap of a fastener and the unzipping of steel, she felt her heated dessert at the entry of her sweetness. She braced herself for the familiar assault, moaned again as he eased into her, inch by thick, delicious inch. He rode her low and slow, side to side, and then teased her by pulling out to the tip before sinking back in to the hilt. He palmed her ample buttocks like a work of art—kneading and stroking, slapping as one would a horse to giddyup. Dominique ground back against him, oblivious of everything except Jake’s hands on her engorged nipples and his sausage in her bun. Their climaxes came simultaneously, the scream spilling from Dominique’s throat before she could catch it, Jake’s growl of pleasure the harmony to her orgasmic melody.

  Jake leaned over and squeezed Dominique’s body with a tenderness unlike she had ever felt. He pulled out, and wordlessly guided her to the bathroom where they both freshened up. Without a sound, he watched as Dominique reapplied her makeup, then led them both back into the living room.

  “Thanks for lunch,” Jake whispered as they reached the living room.

  “It was yummy,” Dominique replied. “The best meal I’ve ever had.”

  “I agree,” Jake said, “that salmon was delicious.” He laughed, successfully avoiding Dominique’s swat at his face. “You were the best tasting dish on the menu,” he admitted, taking Dominique’s hand and walking to the door. “And just so you know... I’ll be coming back for seconds...” He kissed her neck. “And thirds...” He rubbed his hand over her butt, and squeezed. “And—”

  “Jake, I have to go!” Dominique hurriedly finished and rushed out the door.

  “Ha! You’d better run,” Jake said to her fleeing back. “Because you’re like an all-you-can-eat buffet and you make me want to throw down all day long!”

  24

  “Okay, team, listen up. For this week’s game, we’re going to a spread offense and a three-four defense: three linemen, four defensive backs, and four linebackers.” The boys’ eyes were glued to the board as Jake drew x’s and o’s to mark out each position. “We’re going to interchange this with the nickel defense we used last week. Aiden, you’ll switch with Matt and play right corner. Matt, you’ll be working with Shawn and the running backs. Kareem, you and the backups will work with him as well. Justin, you’ll stay at tight end and work with the backs, too. I want the defense to come with me. We’re doing special drills today.”

  For the next ninety minutes the boys ripped up and down the field, repeating plays over and over again until they unfolded as if by second nature. October had brought with it cooler temps, but you couldn’t tell it by the stained, sweaty practice gear and smudged faces. Spirits were high as practice ended and the boys filed off the grass.

  Jake sauntered into his office, using the towel around his neck to wipe sweat from his face. He reached into the mini fridge, pulled out an ice-cold bottle of water, and took a long swig. He plopped into his roomy office chair, glad that the practice had gone well but equally glad that the day was over. Between last night’s marathon sex romp with Dominique and the loving that continued at lunch today, the brothah was tired, but satisfied.

  Shawn bounced into his boss’s office and also pulled out a cold bottle of water. “Wow, Big Mac, what got into you?”

  Jake placed the bottle on the table, and turned on his computer. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know, but something about you was different at practice today. You seemed more fired up, happier. Did you finally take the fourth-grade teacher up on her offer?”

  “Man, when are you going to quit it with the talk about that chick? She’s a good person who’s never offered me anything, not that I’d accept if she would. As for my good mood,” Jake shrugged, “I guess it was just the relaxing weekend I had and the fact that the team is just where I wanted them to be—4 and 0.” Jake clicked on a few keys and soon the hum of the printer filled the space.

  After conversation about the day’s practice had ended, Shawn stood. “Guess I’ll head home and get in the clown suit.”

  “Clown suit?”

  “Well, some people call it a tuxedo.”

  “What’s the special occasion?”

  “In-laws’ golden anniversary and a big shindig at a lah-di-dah restaurant in Beverly Hills. I swear that even after ten years, I sometimes still feel like an outsider in Taylor’s family.”

  Jake nodded, but couldn’t relate. Robin’s father had died when she was young, another thing they had in common, but her mother had treated him like a son. Though less frequently, they still kept in touch. Jake made a mental note to give his former mother-in-law a call, then grabbed the stack of papers from the printer and headed to the classroom where he tutored math.

  “Hey, Justin. You’re early.”

  Justin shrugged, his head buried in a textbook.

  “Well, let’s get started.” Jake placed a couple pieces of paper on Justin’s desk. “I worked up these problems for you guys to solve, sort of a pre-test to the one you’ll take next week.”

  Justin closed the book he was viewing but instead of picking up the papers, he looked at Jake. “Coach, can I ask you something?”

  Jake pulled the teacher’s chair from behind the desk, pushed it closer to Justin and sat. “Sure.”

  “How old were you when you started liking girls?”

  The question was unexpected and Jake checked his watch, buying some time to gather his thoughts. Always a big guy, Jake had been accosted by a just-moved-in seventeen-year-old neighbor who thought he was older. He’d lost his virginity at the ripe old age of thirteen, a fact he wisely decided to keep to himself. “About your age,” he finally said.

  Justin eyed him for a moment, and then busied himself by working on the formulas Jake had given him.

  Now Jake was surprised again. Instead of this one simple question, he’d expected an interrogation. When that didn’t seem likely, Jake pushed the issue. “Why do you ask?”

  Justin shrugged.

  “No reason?”

  After a long pause, Justin added, “Mama’s mad at me ’cause I like girls. She don’t understand....”

  “She’s mad because you like a girl here at school, in one of your classes?”

  Justin’s signature crooked smile appeared briefly before disappearing behind scrunched eyebrows. “She don’t know about Ashley. But she’s still mad that I like girls.”

  “If she doesn’t know about this friend you have here at school, why is she angry?”

  Justin slouched down in the desk seat and mumbled, “Moms are a trip.”

  Jake hid his smile. “Talk to me, son.”

  Justin looked up a
t Jake, his expression unreadable but his thought clear: I wish...

  “So what did you do, beat up a girl and take her lunch money?”

  “Ha! No, Coach!”

  “Push her down on the playground and look under her dress?”

  Justin laughed. “No!”

  Jake laughed as well, easing the tension of the moment. “Of course you don’t have to tell me, but I am curious.”

  Justin squirmed in his chair, picked up his pencil, and tapped on the desk. When he answered his voice was barely above a whisper. “I looked at some pictures.”

  Jake leaned back in his chair. “Some pictures, huh?”

  Justin nodded. “My aunt caught me and my cousin looking at naked women and told Mama. I’m in all kinds of trouble, Coach Mac, and I don’t understand why looking at those pictures was so bad.”

  “What kind of pictures were they?”

  Again, Justin’s voice was low, soft. “Nasty ones.”

  “Why were they nasty?”

  “’Cause Mama said so. The girls were naked, and Mama said I was looking at filth and being disrespectful to women. But all we was doing was looking at them!” Justin’s head was bowed but he sneaked peeks at the man he idolized to gauge his reaction. “Was I wrong, Coach?”

  Jake toyed with the papers on his desk, thinking through his answer. On one hand, he didn’t want to counter what Dominique had told her son but on the other, he didn’t want the young man thinking it wrong to do something that in Jake’s mind was a male rite of passage. What red-blooded young man hadn’t looked at a girly mag at least once in his lifetime?

  “Look here, Justin. I understand why your mom is upset. To her, you’re still a little boy, her baby.”

  “I’m almost twelve,” Justin sulkily replied. “That’s almost a teenager!”

  “True, but you’re not a teenager yet. And your mom probably thinks eleven is a little too young to look at the type of pictures your cousin showed you.”

  Justin’s shoulders slouched. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his coach. “So you’re mad at me, too?” After asking this question, Justin looked Jake straight in the eye.