I couldn’t do anything but laugh at that, because, well… it was accurate. Landon Armstrong was absolutely affected by the trappings of his name – or rather, his more popular extended family, the Drakes. They were mostly centered in Vegas, but their money, power, and influence stretched far and wide- something I’d seen firsthand, having grown up in a world where Malcolm Armstrong – Landon’s uncle – was good friends with my father.
Landon had been overly influenced by the antics of his older cousin, Braxton, and even though he was my homeboy… I couldn’t pretend that it didn’t show. During the day, he was a tech genius, the behind-the-scenes brains of countless startups. After hours? He partied and ran through women at a level equal to some of the players I worked with.
He always managed to stay on top of his business though, so… I let him rock.
“So you’re telling me Tyra isn’t thinking up baby names right now?” I asked, thanking our server as she dropped off the water we’d requested.
Landon sucked his teeth. “Hell no. She might be thinking up daddy names though,” he joked, raising his hand out to the side with an obvious expectation that I would smack it in solidarity with him, but I shook my head.
“What happened to you, bruh?” He sat back, looking utterly disappointed. “You used to be in the trenches with me, bagging broads left and right. That mellow pussy fucked up your world, didn’t it?”
I squinted. “Mellow?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, sitting back. “Well-developed. Aged. Like a nice ass bourbon. A fine ass bourbon. Fine wine. You’re probably not even hitting it right, are you?”
Sloane.
“I never should’ve told you that shit.”
Wearing a goofy grin, Landon raised a hand in defense. “Your secret is safe with me bruh, no worries there. I’m jealous, honestly. I’m right here and she chose… you?”
“Man shut the fuck up,” I laughed, shaking my head. “Not my fault she chose the winning team.”
“Yeah, the Kings. And I already know Ms. Trinidad is not mixing business and pleasure, so you might as well just be honest.”
“Ms. Trinidad? Really?”
“Fine ass older woman, I call it like I see it – and I see you keep dodging the question.”
I shrugged. “Not dodging – it’s really not your business, but… since you hyped me up to approach her in the first place…”
“Finally, some fucking recognition around here.”
“Nah. Ms. Trinidad is not mixing business and pleasure.”
Landon flinched like he’d been physically wounded by my news, prompting me to laugh again as the server dropped off our food. If nothing else, he was always a good source of comic relief, and at his best… he was a good friend – the only reason I’d confided in him about Sloane in the first place.
After lunch, I headed back to my office, hoping I wouldn’t end up having to put out any fires. Luckily for me, that really was the case – after hearing the Rutledge vs Sloane situation on a Sunday, I needed an uneventful start to the week.
No sooner than that thought crossed my mind, I got a reminder from Elliot about an afternoon meeting that had completely slipped my mind.
A meeting with Sloane.
To mitigate the Rutledge vs Sloane situation.
I spent the next fifteen minutes going over it in my head, then left my own office to head to the elevator, down to the first floor where the weights rooms, cafeteria, recovery rooms, and coaching offices were.
Past the head coach, and coordinators, straight to the smallest offices – the ones reserved for the position coaches. They were just big enough to fit a desk, bookshelf, and a few chairs for players, but when I stepped up to the one that was newly labeled Coach Brooks, Sloane seemed extremely pleased about it, if her humming a tune was any indication.
“I see you’re getting settled in,” I spoke up, calling her attention to my presence as I leaned into the doorway. She looked up with a warm smile that was like a double-shot, hitting me in the chest and groin at the same time.
Before she verbally responded, she finished placing the framed certificate in her hands – one of her many awards for coaching excellence – then dusted them off to approach me.
“Yes, I am. Been too immersed in game film, and field activity with the rookies to do it before now, but I figured I should get it done before workouts started. I assume you’re here to talk about Amare?” she asked, crossing her arms, leaving the obvious implication that I’d better be there to talk business, and nothing else, unspoken.
“Yes,” I nodded. “He came to speak with me yesterday. He has… concerns.”
Sloane smiled. “Of course he does. Come in, please,” she offered, motioning for me to close the door behind me when I did. Instead of taking the seat behind the desk, she leaned against the front of it, putting me right at eye level with the juncture of her thighs once I’d taken my seat.
I forced my gaze to her face.
“Let me guess,” she started. “Amare thinks I’m a raging bitch who is picking on him and making up flaws because he is a perfect wide receiver already, who couldn’t possibly need my help?”
Chuckling, I nodded. “Yes, that’s about the gist of it.”
“Mmm. So. Are you here to scold me, or…?”
“Not at all,” I assured her. “Rutledge has the potential to be an elite wide receiver, and I believe you have what it takes to turn him into that. Don’t take your foot off his neck – the pressure is doing him a favor.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”
“You didn’t really think I was coming down here to fuss, did you?”
“I’ve never coached a pro offense before,” she shrugged. “All these different titles and what not… I wasn’t sure what to expect. But… if you had come down here to hassle me, I was ready to tell you exactly what I thought of your hassling, and where exactly you could shove it.”
I smirked. “I wouldn’t have expected anything else. But, as I said, I’m not here to fuss – just to make sure that there’s not any… additional friction.”
“Meaning?”
“I’ve heard about what he said to your face, and I’ve heard what he’s said behind your back. I believe I’ve made it clear enough to him that he needs to make a change in his behavior, but part of his success is a productive relationship between him and his coaches. I need to know if you can work with him, or if he’s pushed you too far?”
Sloane wrinkled her nose, and then laughed, waving me off. “I can assure you, he’d have to do much worse than a little coarse language to push me too far. I’m a big girl, Nate. I can handle these guys.”
Unbidden, my eyes dropped to her bare thighs – on a work-appropriate level of display in standard khaki shorts – and on the way back up… it was hard as hell not to visualize what I knew was underneath.
“Yes… I know.”
She shifted a little, biting down on her lip as she met my gaze for a moment before she looked away. “So how have you been?” she asked, pushing off the desk to go back to unpacking the box she’d been busy with before I showed up. “I assume we can move on from the Amare topic?”
“I believe we’re on the same page, so why not?” I stood too, straightening my tie. “And to answer the other question… I’ve been fine. You?”
Placing a trophy on the shelf, she smiled. “I’ve got no complaints. Life is good.”
“Glad to hear it.”
For several moments, neither of us said anything, but then she let out a frustrated sigh.
“Do you have to look at me like that?” she asked.
I raised my shoulders. “Like what?”
“Like you want to put your nose in my pussy.”
“Sounds like wishful thinking to me,” I countered, running my tongue over my lips. “But it’s fairly accurate.”
My words brought the lust she’d been doing a masterful job of hiding right to the forefront, and she shook her head.
“See? Now you gotta go.�
��
Her footsteps were swift across the small office, coming back in my direction to – presumably – open the door to show me out.
I wasn’t letting her off that easy though.
I stepped in front of her, blocking her path as I met her eyes again. “Is that what you want, Sloane? For me to get down on my knees in this office, pull those corny ass shorts down, and your panties, and… put my nose in it? My fingers? My tongue?”
“Nate…” she warned, not offering any indication that she wanted to get around me.
“Just answer the question,” I demanded, sending a juuust barely visible tremble up her spine.
“Yes.”
“So say the word, Coach Brooks.” As I delivered that little taunt, I ran a carefully positioned finger down the front of her shorts, giving it a little pressure when I reached a very specific spot. “You never did let me congratulate you on your new position.”
Her eyes fluttered closed for a second, and then she shook her head. “Get out of my office.”
As soon as those words were off her lips, I took my hand off her and stepped back. She’d already told me what the deal was between us, what it was going to be, so I knew I’d just tested my luck by even trying anything with her.
I was surprised she let me take it as far as I had.
“I’ll be seeing you,” I told her, offering a little salute as I moved to the door.
But then, she surprised the hell out of me, with words I didn’t – not even a little – expect to hear.
“Yeah. My place. Madison is with her father this week, visiting his folks, but still… park in the garage. Nine o’clock.”
She wasn’t asking.
She was telling.
And I damn sure didn’t mind.
Five
Loneliness was such a bitch.
It was the only reason Nate was in my house right now, after my “firm” resolution that my hiring for the coaching job would be the end of our fling.
If you could call having hot sex with someone for years a “fling”.
In any case, with Madison gone for the week, off to California to see her father’s people, the house already felt way too lonely, like just the idea of being by myself had ushered in those feelings.
It wasn’t even like I was a stranger to solitude.
I had my good friends – Joan and Zora – but with one still happily married and raising her kids in New York, and the other thousands of miles away in Vegas, it wasn’t like we were in each other’s faces every day. With Garrett out of the house post-divorce, and Madison usually more interested in her teenage peers, when I wasn’t working, I was alone, often.
But truthfully… it was time for myself that I appreciated.
So what the fuck was the problem today?
Maybe… this whole “loneliness” angle was an excuse I was forcing to happen.
So I wouldn’t have to admit the truth – that I’d missed his young ass… beyond sex. And that was so, so problematic.
I leaned in the doorway of my bedroom, watching him try his best not to fall asleep. It was late – later than he should be here at all, but with the workout we’d had… I figured I could at least let the man get some sleep.
The glare from the TV cast a bluish glow across his dark copper skin, and reflected in his barely-open eyes. I tightened my silk robe around myself a little more as he took longer and longer to open his eyes again between “blinks”. But then, something must have alerted him to my presence because he looked up, suddenly wide awake.
“I was starting to wonder what was taking you so long,” he said, like he hadn’t been on the verge of passing out thirty seconds ago.
I held up the bowl of fruit I’d gone down to the kitchen for as I approached the bed. “I told you what I was going to do. Grab us a midnight snack.”
“Nice.” He sat up to snatch me around the waist, and pull me on top of him. “Now, lay back and spread your legs, so I can serve myself properly.”
I grinned, and plucked a strawberry from the bowl, feeding it to him. “What, like a pussy platter?”
“Exactly,” he said, once he’d swallowed. “I have an idea – I’m gonna put on a blindfold. You’re going to pick one of these,” he said, pointing to the variety of fruit in the bowl, “And I’m going to eat it out of you.”
“You are such a nasty motherfucker, and I love it,” I purred, leaning in for a taste of the strawberry still on his lips. “But I have no interest in paying the copay for whatever happens in the wake of your… bobbing for pussy game.”
He plucked another strawberry from the bowl. “You don’t like my idea?”
“I like it a lot. My vaginal health might not though,” I teased.
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but was distracted by a buzzing from his phone, on the bedside table. He picked it up, opening the notification, and I shamelessly read it too.
@Leyaness sent you a follow request
“You know her?” I asked, as I watched him hit the button to accept the request to his – now private – page.
“Vaguely,” he said, looking up to meet my eyes. “My homeboy Landon is dating her sister. I met her briefly when I caught up with him for lunch today.”
I smiled. “You must have made quite an impression, if she’s up past midnight trying to stalk your page.”
“Maybe,” he shrugged, moving to put the phone back on the nightstand, but I quickly stopped him.
“Wait, no – I want to see what she looks like,” I insisted. He raised an eyebrow, but brought the phone back in front of him, navigating back to the app, and then tapping her name. Her profile was private too, so he sent her a request that she accepted almost immediately, granting him access to her page.
“Oh Nate, she’s gorgeous,” I gushed, maybe overly influenced by the fact that she was a sista, with thick natural hair. “That beautiful skin, and those big brown eyes, and this body.” I pointed to a picture of her lounged beside a pool with a woman who looked enough like her to be her sister, both in revealing bikinis. “Are you going to start seeing her?”
He tossed the phone back to the nightstand, then used that freedom to run his hands up the outside of my thighs, underneath my robe. “The only person I’m trying to see right now is in front of me.”
I smiled as I stopped his hands. “I'm serious.”
“So am I,” he countered, bringing his mouth to my neck. “Very, very serious about… whatever round this is going to be.”
My teeth sank into my lip, biting back a moan as his hot tongue swept over my skin. “You do realize that at some point, this really will have to stop?”
“Will it?”
His hands easily broke free from my hold, moving to my ass to clutch.
“Yes.” It was half answer, half encouragement as he nibbled his way to my collarbone. “How else will you ever really commit to whatever beautiful, age-appropriate woman –”
“Really, Sloane?” He pulled back, obvious frustration in his eyes. “You’re back on this again?”
I nodded. “Yes, because I keep hoping that one day you’ll heed what I’m saying.”
“And I keep hoping that one day you’ll understand that what you’re pushing isn’t what I want.”
“What heterosexual man doesn’t want what I’m pushing?”
“The one who wants you,” he answered, making me laugh.
“You want me to have your babies? Cause uh…”
He waved me off. “Nobody said shit about any babies.”
“Okay so then what?” I sat back a little in his lap, retrieving the nearly-forgotten bowl of fruit from beside us. “Tell me what Elijah Nathan Richardson is looking for in a woman.”
“Damn, full government, huh?”
I popped a grape in my mouth. “Quit your stalling.”
“I’m not stalling.”
“Then answer the question.”
He sat back against the pillows, arms crossed, contemplating. “I want… someone
who is settled – established in their career, not interested in partying or any of that. She has to love football.”
“Obviously,” I agreed.
“Intelligent. Beautiful. Has enough business of her own that she doesn’t have to constantly be in mine. Doesn’t need my attention to always be on her. Great in bed. And she must be named Sloane Michelle Brooks.”
I shook my head. “If you don’t get outta here with that.”
“What?”
“That last item on your list, fool. Except for that… why don’t you look for all these things you want in a woman who is within five – hell, ten – years of you?”
He scoffed. “You think I haven’t? Every woman who has held my interest past a night or two, they want what you think I’m supposed to want. The marriage, the babies, the dog, the house—”
“Because those are normal things to want, Nate. What the hell do you think I wanted when I was younger? The marriage, the babies, the dog, the house.”
“And you got it, because you found somebody who wanted that too.”
I laughed. “No, what I got was somebody who wanted it all. A wife who was intelligent, beautiful, great in bed, and would have his baby and keep his house, and stay out of his business while he fucked around.”
“But you’re past that. That’s dead. What do you want now?”
I frowned for a moment, thinking about it, and then let out a sigh. “Certainty. And orgasms. That’s all.”
“Explain.”
“Well, when sexual arousal reaches—”
“Sloane…”
I grinned. “Fine. Certainty. Meaning… confidence of my role, whatever that is. Never having to wonder if I’m enough. Being able to trust what’s being said to me. Knowing that my needs will be met. Faith that my heart will be safe. Unshakeable sureness that honoring our commitment is at the forefront of every decision. Certainty.” I sighed again, cupping a hand under Nate’s chin. “Something that you cannot give me.”
That hurt him.
Pass Interference (Connecticut Kings Book 6) Page 6
