by Nina Bruhns
* * *
At the restaurant, in a free moment, Sean turned to Dameon; waving his hand at the group of team members and their families, he spoke quietly. “Gotta ask. Who pays for all of this? There has to be sixty people here. And a lot of these folks don’t look like they have a pot to piss in.”
Dameon agreed. “You’re right. Some of them are hard-pressed for essentials, much less supporting a first class athlete. We have a fund that I started. It’s going well. The department helps me. I pay for things like this that are extraordinary--anything where we involve the families. But the fund covers our uniforms, travel, special needs of the kids, etc. I’ve got five former college basketball players on the APD. They’re my assistant coaches. They donate a considerable amount of time, as do I. Remember, we’re a showcase for the Albuquerque Police Department. This is the case I make with the foundations and the City. We’re pulling at-risk kids off the street and playing great basketball. From the flurry of media we’re attracting, we’re starting to get national attention. I’ve got Chiefs all over the country wanting to know how we’re doing what we are doing.”
Sean whistled. “You’re an impressive guy, Wolf. And just so you know, I’m not famous for passing around compliments.”
Dameon grinned. “I might have guessed that. Thanks, Sean. Appreciate it.”
The trash talk around the table was fierce. Dameon kept it under control with a shake of his head or a flick of his wrist.
Rodrigo was giving Trey a bad time to the delight of the other players and an embarrassed but proud Trey.
“Six free throws, white boy! Twelve fu… freaking points.”
Dameon broke in. “What was important about those free throws?”
DaShon spoke up. “He had to get fouled to get them?”
“Right! And what does that mean, men?”
Dixon yelled, “It means he was playing hard, taking chances.”
Rodrigo picked it up. “Hell, yeah… I mean, heck yeah, Coach. That little white boy put his pansy ass right in the middle of that gang of grab-ass gangbangers and didn’t care who smacked it. Or how many times! He just kept shoving his way into the middle of the pack daring them to try and stop ’im!”
Juan added with an admiring glance at DaShon, “Yeah, and our big guy just skated down the court and pulled the win out of his ass!"
Dameon didn’t bother to correct him. It was true.
* * *
Later that night, Jesse sat on the patio with her father. It was a clear night. The stars lighting the black sky competed with the flickering flames in the fireplace. Coming down from the whirlwind of excitement of the previous two days, it felt good just to sit quietly. For the first time since Friday, Jesse and her father had a chance to sit together and enjoy the simple pleasure of being with each other. Jesse gave a contented sigh and nodded yes when Sean held up the bottle of Wild Turkey.
Sean refilled their glasses then pulled his chair closer to hers and pinned her with a thoughtful look.
“I’ve been thinking, girl.”
“You have? Again? What are you thinking about that has you looking so serious?”
“I’ve been thinking about that man of yours.”
Jesse frowned and sat up straight in her chair. Before she could tell him that Dameon wasn’t "hers," Sean continued.
“I don’t know how he could get any better, daughter of mine.”
“Dad, please. Don’t. Don’t spoil our time together. I don’t want to talk about Dameon. I just want to enjoy our last night together.”
“Jesse, there’s no way that I’m leaving here without talking to you about that man.”
When she put her hand up to stop him, Sean gave a firm shake of his head.
“Uh, uh, girl. We’ve spent too much of our lives not talking about things we should have. You need to know, girl, I’m pulling rank. You may outrank me in the Force, but for the first time I’m pulling my ‘father’ rank.”
Seeing the implacable expression on her father’s face, Jesse sighed, “Please, Dad. Try to understand. I can’t do it.”
“Can’t do what? You’re obviously crazy about him and his tongue’s hangin’ so low he’s practically licking the sidewalk in front of you.”
Jesse gave a disparaging shrug. “Sure he’s physically interested in me. They all--”
“Uh, uh. Don’t do that. Don’t compare Dameon to any of those fuckers you’ve known in the past. That’s not the picture I get of him at all, Jesse.”
Jesse took a deep breath. She needed to make her father understand.
“Dad, I know you mean well. But you have no idea how hard these last two years have been. What my life has been like. I can’t go into any kind of a relationship. I just can’t. It won’t work. I know it won’t.”
Jesse stopped and looked down at her hands. She realized that she was twisting her napkin into shreds and took a deep breath. “Somehow, I… I just have to let Dameon know that.”
Her father sniffed and cocked a brow.
“Well. Good luck with that. How’s that going for you, girl?”
Jesse laughed and reached out and punched him playfully on the arm.
Sean shook his head and grinned.
“I dunno know, girl. You may have met your match. Not only is Dameon crazy about you but that little girl is nuts about you, too. And hell, she’s gonna marry Trey. Keep it all in the family.”
They both laughed.
Sean added. “It seems that when Zoey makes up her mind about someone she makes it stick. She must have learned that from her father.”
As good as it felt to laugh, Sean’s persistence upset her. Jesse’s chest tightened. She needed to make her father understand. And to convince herself.
“You don’t understand, Dad. It’s just not right. Dameon wants more… more than I can give. I… I just have to make that clear to him—somehow.”
Sean’s eyebrows shot up.
“Mind if I tell you, girl? That’s the biggest pile of bullcrap I’ve heard in a long time.”
He shook his head then raised his glass and toasted her.
“I dunno know, daughter. You may have run into someone who’s as determined as you are. And, honey, just so you know? I’m pulling for him. Because I can’t think of a better way to pull for you.”
Red Rock Rises: Chapter Twenty-Four
“Eric was right, Jesse.” Ethan Stockton swiped at the lock of blond hair that hung rakishly over his eyes. “You don’t mind if I call you Jesse, do you, Major?”
“No, please do.”
“And you must call me, Ethan.”
When Jesse nodded, the handsome man striding back and forth in front of her stopped and stared at her. He was effusive.
“Eric said you would be perfect to help me. He said there isn’t a gun that’s been manufactured that you aren’t on a first name basis with. And that you are a renowned martial artist. What he didn’t tell me was that you may be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”
Jesse tried to act enthusiastic. What else could she say to the beaming candidate who was describing the event on Saturday except that it sounded delightful?
She managed to hide her frustration and silently congratulated herself. She’d done it. She’d convinced the leading candidate for governor that not only could she provide personal security to his wife, but also to him. The guise that they’d agreed on was that she was a personal aide to Selma Stockton, his wife.
Ethan was her first potential client that hadn’t come recommended by Raoul. Although she knew that Raoul had enthusiastically seconded Eric’s referral. Dameon should be pleased by that. Jesse wondered if he would be as concerned with the imposing man’s "candidate perfect" looks. Tall and slim, Stockton had the wiry body of a runner--another connection between him and Jesse. She thought with a wicked smile, at least she could reassure Dameon that Stockton didn’t have ties to the Mexican mafia. She decided she wouldn’t mention that her never-fail antennae picked up that the candidate was
also a profligate womanizer.
The womanizer part she could handle with ease. Her heavy heart stemmed from the news that the candidate’s coming out party, the reason Ethan hired her, was scheduled for Saturday. The same day she’d planned to be in L.A. with Trey and Dameon cheering on the Warriors at the Aspire Tournament.
* * *
Dameon was consoling. “Damn, Jesse. What can I say, tiger, except that you have no choice. This could be a huge break for you. The word on Stockton is that he has a better than even chance of beating Martin in the primary and if he does he’s a shoe-in to win. That is as long as he can keep his pants zipped.”
At Jesse’s gasp, he chuckled. “You think I don’t know Stockton’s rep with the ‘ladies?' Hell, Jesse, cops know everything—especially if the dirt is sleazy. Plus, knowing what a jealous son of a bitch I am, Eric already warned me to be nice. He said Stockton is on the move and could open doors for you.”
“I’m surprised, Dameon, and relieved, even though I could strangle my lawyer. Dear God, I thought attorneys were supposed to be close-mouthed. Mine is a virtual sieve of information.”
“Ah, honey, he’s just looking out for you. He wanted to be sure I wouldn’t give you any grief. He knows that after siccing Raoul on you, he’s on a short leash with the Albuquerque Police Department. At least that’s what I hear from the Chief.”
Jesse laughed then went back to the issue that was tearing at them both.
“Dameon, Trey will be so disappointed. How can I explain that once again my work is taking me away from him?”
“Now. C’mon, Jesse. Give yourself a break—and give Trey some credit, too. It’s not the same, tiger. As much as he wants to show off for you, Trey knows you’ll be there in spirit. And, honey, we’ll spend all day Sunday together watching the reruns of the championship game because I’m convinced our team is going to make it into the finals.”
After they rang off, Dameon tried to shake off his disappointment. He’d put on the best face he could with Jesse, knowing how upset she was to miss the tournament. He should be embarrassed. But, as much as he wanted her in the bleachers, he was as frustrated by the fact that the plans he’d had for after the game had been shot to hell. Once he’d known they were going to L.A., he made the decision. He arranged five rooms for the boys, each room chaperoned by one of his assistant coaches. In addition to the room he booked for Jesse, he reserved a special suite for Jesse and himself.
It was beyond time that he make good on his promise to Jesse. They were on his court now. And L.A. would be their first encounter playing by his rules. Or so he’d thought until he heard the news about her Saturday gig. Clamping down his unruly prick, he comforted them both, declaring that the delay was a blip on the screen. In the long term scenario he had planned for the woman he admitted he was falling in love with, a day or two, even a week’s delay, would be nothing. Once he made love to her, as he would very soon, there’d be enough ecstasy to make his frustration a thing of the past. The delay was just one more way to drive him out of his mind in the short term. It would just heighten his pleasure when he finally made good on his promise to take Jesse to places she—and he—had never been.
* * *
Jesse would later marvel at her ability that day to play the role of an attentive strategic consultant at the Saturday afternoon coming out party for the Stockton campaign. Between chatting with reporters and meeting scores of Stockton supporters, she kept up a running barrage of text messages with Dameon. His flood of one-to-two word texts describing the game from one play to the next were as compelling as if she’d been in the stands. The Warriors lost the first game in a heartbreaker; but all the other teams in their division, except one, lost as well. Going into the championship game the Warriors were the number two seed, second only to the undefeated Scorpions, last year’s tournament champion.
Jesse watched each shot of Trey’s, through the magic of Dameon’s messages. She rode the rise and fall of the game as if she were one of the screaming fans who, according to Dameon, were bringing down the house. There was never more than six points between the teams for the entire game, making it a true battle of champions. When Dameon flashed up a picture of the scoreboard proclaiming the Cinderella victory for the Warriors, Jesse controlled her elation until she got to the ladies room where she burst into tears of joy.
* * *
Jesse thumbed through the photo montage on her phone for the twentieth time. She knew them all by heart. The determined looks on the boys’ faces at half time. Trey’s half-hearted wave midway through the second half. The photo one of the assistant coaches took of Dameon and Trey together. Dameon with his arm around Trey’s shoulder, his face inches from the frowning young man’s, clearly stoking Trey’s courage. That photo was followed by an elated Trey pointing to the scoreboard proclaiming their victory. Capping the series of pictures was the formally staged photo of the team standing atop the winner’s tiered riser. It portrayed the team and their coaches standing behind the four-foot-high trophy, their grins bright enough to light Los Angeles for weeks to come.
Dameon’s voice was hoarse from shouting, but his excitement was palpable over the phone.
“Damn, Jesse, what I wouldn’t give for you to have been there. You would’ve been proud of Trey. He really came through. As usual he held back in the beginning but, between me and DaShon challenging him to play up, he rose to the occasion. I tell you, in a couple of years Trey will be our superstar. He’s so damned smart. Hell, he sees opportunities for plays that I don’t see.”
“I was there, Dameon. Thanks to you, I feel like I saw the entire game. Do you realize that you sent me 83 texts in 2 1/2 hours?”
Jesse couldn’t believe how emotional she was. She’d been riding high on excitement and now in the flush of their victory, she was close to tears. Hearing Dameon’s voice, she realized with a start that as much as she wanted to see and talk to Trey, she wanted Dameon more. She must have betrayed her longing because Dameon’s next words startled her—and sent a shiver of excitement cascading down her spine.
Red Rock Rises: Chapter Twenty-Five
“What are you wearing, Jesse?”
Jesse startled and almost dropped the phone. God, could he see through the ether?
“I… I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“Ah, tiger. You know exactly what I mean. I’m crazy without you here and I’m liable to get crazier. I’m so hopped up on adrenaline, with equal parts of testosterone, it’s probably a good thing for you that you’re not here.”
Jesse slammed her eyes shut, afraid that she might somehow convey the image of the heated woman she saw in the mirror. When she managed to find her voice, she was as surprised by the unbidden words that slipped out as Dameon must have been.
“Why? What… would you do if I was there?”
Following a silence that ratcheted up her fear and her excitement, Dameon’s words didn’t disappoint. Rather, he shocked her senseless.
“Well, tiger, given the size of my cock, about the only thing I could do is to put you up on your hands and knees and take you from behind, hard.”
Jesse gasped fighting back the urge to groan.
His voice was low, sexy, “How about it, Jesse? Would you like me to do that? Put you up on your hands and knees? Spread your legs apart slowly, then hike up your naked ass and pound my cock into you?”
He paused, his voice dropping to a husky drawl. “Would that be okay with you, tiger? Do you think you could take all of me?”
She gasped as a shocking blast of electricity ricocheted through her body straight to her core.
Dameon’s low chuckle teased her ear, “Can I take that as a yes, tiger?”
Jesse struggled to respond but her mouth was too dry. She didn’t have enough spit to swallow much less speak. Any clever or even reasonably coherent response was lost at his next words.
“I asked you a question, baby. Answer me.”
Jesse dropped to the edge of the bed, her legs no longer
able to hold her upright. “Which… which question?”
“Hmm, you’re right. I did ask you several. Let’s start at the top. What are you wearing, honey?”
Jesse shut her eyes as if he could see her, and by closing her eyes she could shield herself. Her white lacy bra pushed up her full breasts, forcing soft mounds of flesh to overflow the scalloped edges. Her matching panties were a mere scrap of satin, the stretchy lace bands riding low on her hips. Jesse didn’t need a mirror to know what she looked like. Just the thought of him seeing her risqué underwear made her panties wet.
She was glad that her voice was somewhat normal, although it was an effort to speak.
“I was getting undressed when you called. I’m… not wearing… much.”
“Show me.”
“What?” Her shocked question sounded as scandalized as she felt.
“You heard me, Jesse. Show me what you’re wearing. Send me a picture.”
To her amazement, it was as though she was an observer, a voyeur, watching a sexually charged tableau. Stunned, she saw the red-headed woman rise to her feet and assume a casually erotic posture. Before she could pull back she’d snapped the picture. Dameon’s audible gasp confirmed that she’d clicked on ‘send.’
“Holy Christ, Jesse.” His gruff exclamation said it all.
“Jesse?”
When she didn’t answer, he persisted.
“Take off your bra. And honey, after you do that? Cup your breasts and present them to me.”
His silky command shocked her out of her dream state.
“Oh my God, Dameon. I can’t do that. I won’t. That is--”
He broke in.
“That is the sexiest thing you could do for me, tiger. Do it, Jesse. Show me your beautiful breasts. I’m dying for you, baby.”
