by Xyla Turner
“Yes?” I swiftly turned around ignoring the stock room filled with cases of liquor.
He stood in front of me and pushed his hands deep in his front pockets, his shoulders were relaxed and the expression on his face stated, he had all the time in the world. I was certain, mine expressed I was highly annoyed.
“Yes,” I repeated.
“Zora,” he said my name like he was warning me.
“You wanted to talk, Mr. Black. Please let’s get on with this.” I folded my arms over my chest. “If you have any more propositions, please note they will need to go through my owner.”
He nodded, but he took one step closer toward me before his hands came out of his pockets.
“See here’s my dilemma.” He leveled his eyes on mine. “I’m not sure you want me going to your owner about what I want to do with that body under those black pant suits.”
Goddamn.
“Look, I already told you—”
He effectively cut me off by taking one step toward me, leaving less than a foot between us. “You don’t like me and from what I’ve heard you don’t fuck men. I know.” His eyebrow quirked. “I also have it on good authority that you don’t fuck women either. So, who do you fuck?”
Son of a bitch.
“That’s none of your goddamn business.” I slam my hands on my hips.
“On the contrary. Who you’re fucking is my business because I’m making it mine.” His smoldering look turns into one I wish could be turned off.
It was doing all types of things to my body and God only knew, I didn’t need these complications in life. No more fast-talking men like him with good looks. One nice fuck, and boom, my heart is shredded again. However, this time, there’s nothing left to shred. It wasn’t prepared from the first time and now there’s nothing left. When I say, I want nothing to do with men, I mean that to my core. I’ll buy some goddamn cats and coach for the rest of my fucking life.
Just as I was about to tell him where he can take his indecent proposal, his hand moved fast as lightning, which scorched the side and back of my neck. Harvey pressed his fingertips into me, moving me toward him and with almost no effort at all, his lips were on mine.
Oh my fucking dear.
He moved his mouth against mine and the tingling that coursed through my body was like a compliant drug because I melted.
Literally, melted in his arms and he took and took from me. I had nothing to give but being pressed against his hard, bulky body sent me into another zone. One that I wasn’t familiar with and don’t ever remember being sucked into from my past.
I felt like a victim of a vampire bite. His hands on my body, his mouth on mine, and his tongue invading my mouth, drained everything from me. I felt lightheaded when I was usually as fairly strong as any woman.
Not anymore.
This son of a bitch bit me and I was like the prey caught in his trap.
When he finally finished feasting on me, his scorching gaze bore into mine while I was still in his arms.
“God fucking damn,” he hissed. “Knew it.”
I thought I said, ‘what?’, but my lips only formed the word and nothing audible escaped.
There was a new light in his eyes, shit, even on his face. Like, he just realized something. His gaze remained on me, with more intensity, if that was even possible.
When my mind finally caught up with everything, I jerked out of his grasp, effectively releasing his spell from over me. Then, I slapped his damn face but there was no running away from him. I stood there, preparing to give him a tongue lashing to match all cuss-outs.
His head had snapped to the left, but when it came back to face forward, the bastard had a smile on his face.
What in the fuck?
“You think,” Harvey took a step toward me. “You laying your hands on me is going to deter me after what I know you felt too.”
His laugh was almost evil.
“You’re out of your goddamn mind.” He was no longer smiling but the steely resolve was set in his features and I knew, this man was not to be trifled with.
Determination.
Dangerous.
“Don’t touch me again.” I snapped and made my way to the door.
“Yeah? Then do me a favor and don’t touch yourself thinking about me, either,” he said as a throwaway. “Don’t come, don’t twist those taut little nipples of yours, or pleasure yourself in any way with me on your mind either. Fuck, if you can do that, then I won’t touch you.”
“You won’t have to worry about that,” I lied. “You’re not welcome in my psyche either.”
“Tell that to those wet panties.” He followed up. “When you’re ready, Zora. When you’re ready for me to show you all I can do. I’ll be here.”
“Fuck you.” I took a step toward him. “I’m not fucking my way up or on the side. That’s not me. I resent your insinuation I should even entertain it; like it’s my only option. You’re just like all the rest. Want a nut? Find a goddamn squirrel who’ll do all the dirty, filthy things you want. I’m nobody’s play thing to be easily dispose of when you’re done.”
Shit, I probably revealed too much but I could give a fuck at this point. He hit a nerve. Wet panties or not, I wouldn’t give in for that sort of shit.
“Then do it for yourself,” he whispered.
That caught me completely off guard.
“Myself?” I whispered back, not knowing why.
“You want this.” Harvey turned to face me. “Need this and I’ll make it good. I promise.”
The difference between me and him was no matter what I wanted, that did not trump my goals. This man was a distraction, and that’s all they would ever be.
“Pass.” I nodded and turned to walk out.
Quickly gathering my things, I left a few bills on the table, said goodbye to the ladies and left. They knew something was wrong but I would not share. I had no intentions of staying under the same roof with that asshole if it was the last thing I did.
My nerves were shot. I was exhausted, and he plagued my mind. Everything was coming to me like it was in warped speed and not enough of my thoughts were spent on practice tomorrow. We had shit to do, and it served no purpose remaining caught up in what would never happen.
The next week went by fast. It was also Harvey free. In my conscious mind too. But, in the subconscious and my dreams… Let’s just say, I woke up with a wet pussy. The image of the bearded owner of the Warriors had me rubbing against my hardened clit.
One evening, my cell rang with the tone designated for my brother. He almost never called me, so this was quite weird.
“Morris?” I picked up.
“Hey sis, what’s good?” he said in his fake jubilant tone.
“I’m okay. What’s wrong?” I asked.
There had to be something wrong because this was his last year of graduate school and he was too busy to call Dad, me or anyone. He was living the life, and we let him do it, but every once in a while, he’d needed some help and I assumed now was one of those times.
“I, uh, was supposed to get an externship.” He started then paused. “I fucked up, Zor. Like, fucked up.”
His voice was rising signaling it was about to go into panic mode.
“Calm down and tell me what happened,” I said in a stern tone.
“Yeah, uh, in order to pass my final colloquium, I had to secure an externship. I did, but it wasn’t clear about the type of work. Since my major is sports management, they stated that my externship couldn’t be reporting to the manager of a fast food restaurant.”
“You did that?” I gasped. “Holy hell.”
“Well, I didn’t know what to do,” he exclaimed. “The rules are so strict. Nobody we’re related to could work at the establishment. So that counted you and the Vikings out. Then who else is there?”
Sometimes, I think the boy smoked too much weed.
“Morris!” I exclaimed. “There are dozens of other sports in the city of Philadelphia. Fuck, you
could have even traveled to New Jersey or upstate. Shit, anywhere.”
“Fuck, knew I shouldn’t have called you,” he sighed.
“Don’t start that shit with me.” I snapped back. “You called me because you knew damn well, I could help you so you suck it up buttercup and grow some balls.”
He was cursing under his breath but I didn’t give a good goddamn.
Then I started to rattle off the teams where I knew people. I withheld mentioning the Warriors out of the eight teams I knew. However, when he said, “I’ve contacted all of them and they don’t have room. None of them.”
Fuck.
“If I don’t get a placement by this Friday, I won’t be able to graduate.” I swear the boy was whining. “Do you know anyone? A favor you could call in or something.”
My mind went straight to Mr. Black. But, it would be a cold day in hell I’d ask him for a damned thing.
“Have you tried the Warriors team?” I asked.
“Yeah, they’re not taking anyone either,” he exclaimed.
“Who did you speak with?” I asked.
“Some lady. Everyone in our program already has the city on lock,” he sighed. “You don’t know anyone?”
Goddamnit.
“Try the Warriors again and ask for Mr. Harvey Black. He’s the owner,” I said. “I don’t know, though, but we met at an event a couple of weeks ago.”
“Okay, okay. Shit, I’ll try that. Thanks so much Zor. Means a lot.” His voice was back to normal.
What have I done?
“Don’t thank me yet. He may not be able to,” I said. “You still may want to think of non-pro or the college league if that doesn’t work out.”
“Yeah, but let’s try this. Non-pro or college won’t give me what I need for my career. But I’ll let you know.” He was ready to get off the phone. “Thanks again.”
“Aight, Morris,” I said. “Keeping my fingers crossed.”
“Thanks, going to need it.”
I hung up.
This boy was so spoiled, it was crazy. Trying to get over by doing his externship with his friend Girard at the Chicken Shack.
Wow.
What I didn’t know was how wow, my life was about to get.
End of Preview.
To read more of Take A Knee, click here.
Cole
Chapter 1: Coffee Shop
It was a dreary day. Not quite raining but the gray clouds hovered over our little part of town all morning. There might have been a sprinkle or two but the ground was dry and so were the orange-brownish leaves hanging on the trees by a wish and a prayer. I had to get out of my palace of a place. It stood where all the other ex-professional sport players, retired actors or the semi-rich and famous went to live when their careers were over. Most days, I felt like I knew what it would be like to live in an old folk’s home because of all the has-beens, including myself were on the west side of town. In our mansions that were mostly paid for if we were smart and I was. Our vintage cars if we were into that sort of antiques and our manicured lawns that were mandated by the Woodland Village Home Owners Association (HOA).
Anytime, I left the premises of the gated community, Val, out housing manager, knew to look out for my home. Well, every resident had an attendant who they trusted and Val was mine. Not because he was a diehard fan of the Colorado Stingrays, but he was also a working father and knew my stats better than I did. My mother used to be my biggest fan and could rattle off any game, tackle and even the opponent. That was before the stroke and then her untimely death.
Now, it was Val.
“Heading out,” Val tipped his head towards me as my car approached the brick house that lifted the black steel gate for residents or guest to come and go.
“Yeah, got to get the hell out of here.” I waved. “See you later.”
“Will do Mr. Magon.” The black gate tilted upward on an angle until it was clear enough for me to get my 1959 BMW 507 Roadster underneath and to my destination.
I only planned to get a chai tea since I had yoga later with Sue Mae the national Yoga Instructor from China. She could always be seen running around the grounds in her tight spandex pants with matching tank top. She was another fellow football fan and we’d been good buddies for a long time since we lived there for over ten years. The café, Beans & Things, in town was small but since it was near a college town, it tended to always have a bunch of young, bright-eyed kids around.
Today, just my luck, the University was on their Fall Break, so there were not a lot of people in the quaint coffee house. Entering into the cafe, I moved towards the counter until I heard my name.
“Cole?” A man called. “Cole Magon?”
My head swiveled around to trace where I heard the voice. My eyes squinted to the image of a waving man who said, “Cole?”
He stood up from his wooden chair, sending it back and causing it to screech against the floor.
The noise brought attention to him, which brought attention to me and I never liked that. My eyes quickly scanned the room again to insure no one knew who I was or had a camera phone out for a crazy stalker fan or something. The worst thing was to make the news after being in retirement for some bullshit. Stalker fans, crazy family, divorce, new job or anything that wasn’t favorable. Even the good things could be misconstrued to being some desperate attempts to get in the public or get news traveling about yourself. Nobody needed that shit.
The man reached me, which allowed me to get a better look.
“Man, what the hell?” I lifted my right hand to clasp his. “Rog, where have you been?”
Roger Weigman, he was one of the lawyers at the firm, I employed when I played professional football. The man had grown to be a fierce ally as I made my way to the hall of fame, simply because he looked out for me. One of the lawyers was trying to broker a deal with my agent but Roger had advised me against it and showed me the fine print. If he was trying to buy my support, he got it that day. After I left the game, twelve years ago, we’d see each other on occasion but it had been years.
“I knew that was you,” he laughed, pulled me into him as we embraced with our half man-hug. “You always have that walk, like you’re still the star quarterback, confidently walking on the field.”
My head pulled back, squinting at the shorter man again before I said, “What? I am still the star quarterback.”
We burst into laughter as the man with the balding top shook his head. He still looked like he was in business with a suit and white crisp shirt. Only this time, his sleeves were rolled up a quarter-length of the way up his arm. His circle-framed glasses sat on the middle of his pudgy nose and he was slightly pink.
“You live around here, I assume.” Roger stepped back to look at the length of me.
He must have seen the casual jeans, the heather gray t-shirt and running shoes that had seen better days. My beard was untamed and there was no doubt the unkempt red beard matching all other facial hair and the mess of short locs at the top of my head, didn’t help to look like I didn’t roll out of bed. Which, I did and as of late, didn’t really care how I looked. My father had a saying, that I’d adopted. ‘I’m a grown ass man.’ I had very few cares in my world which was always a good thing.
“Yeah, I’m around the way. Not too far from here.” I confirmed. “What are you doing over on this side? Shouldn’t you be in L.A.?”
The door chimed signaling that someone had entered the door which was located on the left side of me. Hence, I never made it to the counter, so I moved out of her way with a nod. She eyed me with an inviting smile as she walked past, leaving a mango scent in her wake. She was cute enough but there was something not right about her. Nothing sinister but just nothing for me.
“Here on business.” Roger interrupted my thought of the woman. “I’ve been running a successful one for about three years now. The base is here.”
“Cool,” I said as my mind reeled about what was specifically wrong with the woman that just passed.
There was nothing erroneous about her; she was at least five feet and nine inches. Had a runner’s body with shapely legs, long bottle blond hair, narrow nose and puckered lips. The boobs were probably fake as they sat up asking for too much attention and she had to be around her late twenties, maybe early thirties.
Maybe that was the issue, her age. I wanted a grown ass woman. Not one wet behind the ears, not one that was for the cat and mouse and definitely not one that felt they needed to get fake boobs because they felt the need to make me or any man happy. My hands were twisting nipples whether they were facing me or facing down. My teeth would bite them, my hands would squeeze them and my lips would suck on them too. If she was really into my type of shit, my dick would fuck them.
Mentally, I sighed because it seemed I was destined to live out my years with having accomplished everything but true love. From a child, I excelled at school and football. So much so, that I was drafted to the National Football League my freshman year in college. My mom and pop were against me leaving college and waiting but my arm was so on point at that time in my life, I was ranking in the top ten for NCAA. Once the New Jersey Reapers drafted me, I stayed there for a few years and then Colorado Stingrays brought me on and that is where I stayed for the rest of my career.
During that time, I was engaged twice, had one long-term girlfriend. With whom I was scared to ask to marry me because I thought it would end like my last two. One cheated on me by kissing another teammate of mine at an after party. That was in New Jersey and after the biggest fight, the team had seen. According to the coach at the time, he benched me and I took my starter position and went elsewhere. My contract was up anyway. The second proposal ended because apparently, Nadia was more concerned about her engagement ring and the wedding day than she was about me, as a person, human, or even her future husband. The long-term girlfriend wanted to get married, just my luck and I wouldn’t even act like I wanted to pop the question. I told her that before we started but I guess she had a change of heart.
“Hey, you uh, single?” Roger asked, pulling me from my thoughts again.
