by Love Belvin
When his warm mouth touched the bare skin of my belly, my entire body shuttered. His teeth scraped across my jumpy belly, causing my hands to curl into tight fists. He licked downward, the tip of his tongue circling the rim of my naval. My head rolled left and right over the pillow, but I refused to utter a sound. It felt so good…so forbidden for some reason, and I didn’t want to blow our cover.
My pulse roared in my ears as my arms pushed down on his shoulders. They flexed beneath my misted palms and moved lower. Hot air pushed from my lungs when his tongue rolled beneath my navel. His hands left a faint trace of heat down my inner thighs. That had my head and shoulders leaping from the mattress and my torso suspended in the air. He rolled his tongue down the same path his right hand had just left on my thigh.
I groaned, my back arching over the mattress.
His teeth bit into that tickly, sensitive place of my inner thigh. I swallowed the collecting saliva gathered in my mouth, so afraid to move at this point. My clit throbbed dangerously, feeling heavy and heated. His head shifted and lips dragged down the inside of my left thigh. His teeth scraped up, eliciting another helpless whimper from my belly. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was feverish, body dampening all over.
“Oh, shiiit—” I cupped my mouth with both hands.
His teeth clamped on the skin joining my thigh and sex, his tongue slivered through that seam. Who was this? My hips shifted, body shimmying beneath him.
Then his mouth was there. He kissed me. There. Twice. Next his tongue swiped from my hind flesh all the way up to the opening of my sex. My spine spasmed.
“Rut…” croaked harshly from my throat.
“Shhhhhhh…” He blew over my wetness and my shoulders twitched.
His tongue swiped all over, swirling in places I didn’t know were sensitive. He dipped inside my sex and I could feel it ripple. He slurped and stabbed, sucked and lashed all over. Rut was amazingly focused, thrilling, and noticeably practiced.
Suddenly, I felt wrong for arguing with him about the girl he was texting. Feeling my groin heat like this reminded me he did give me an orgasm—and first—the night we’d slept together. It was proof he didn’t view me and the girl texting him the same. Should I now believe he thought of me as different?
Special?
I sure felt that way as his tongue rolled over and over my throbbing clit. When his big hands curled around my hips, pulling me into him, I felt supremely reverenced. He was capable of making a woman feel above his ego.
My hips vibrated in his hold, hands went to his head, and shoulders pushed into the mattress as my groin roiled and roiled until it imploded. He groaned, I shuddered boneless. The sensation rolled over and over, sending me awash to a new plateau. I couldn’t move, couldn’t catch my breath, and I certainly couldn’t control the nonstop tremors.
His big hands were at the sides of my hips, rubbing reverentially. I shivered and sniffled, eyes shut tight, trying to gain myself.
What in the world just happened?
“Parker…”
At first, I couldn’t speak. “Ye—” I swallowed. “Yeah?”
“You cool?”
My eyes shot open. How would I answer that?
“I—I… Uhhh. I don’t know.” I panted. “I think so.”
He grumbled something more before shuffling between my legs. In the next movement, he had my back off the mattress. Then I was being tugged and flipped over. Hot air slew jaggedly from my lungs and I landed on my hands and knees. His soft and warm mouth was on me again. Full lips and aggressive tongue worked in tandem to caress the back of my thigh. I worked to stifle a moan. Initially, it was strange, holding on all fours while his mouth was near my ass.
But it was clear when his big palms slapped and cupped my cheeks, Rut was exactly where he intended to be. I couldn’t believe what was happening. The level of sensitivity in the skin back there had been unknown to me until now. Pleasure seized my body, but my mind couldn’t slow. This position made me think back to the interview I’d seen of him last week while on my break at the office. Ruby Vodoo of Power 105.1 Morning Show had her own podcast that was based on sex and sensuality. Apparently, Rut had done an episode with her and crew the week before I met him.
“Ahhhhh…” I swear I didn’t mean to let that cry leave my lips.
But when his tongue laved the seam of my cheeks, abrupt pleasure toppled over. His face pushed deeper and tongue poked further, the tip circling around and around. That brought me back to Rut sharing on Ruby Vodoo’s podcast his mixed feelings about using his mouth on more than half the women he slept with. He explained how there were so many over the years, he had to quickly develop a mental rule book about which ones he’d provide those intimate acts of tongues and perform cunnilingus on. He said he enjoyed it, but limited the number of women he shared that experience with based on chemist—
“Mmmmmmm…” another moan shot from my belly and my spine dipped, curving.
My face fell into the mattress and hips pushed into him. I could hear him attempt a breath back there or maybe it was a growl, I couldn’t be sure. The first time I felt an intrusion of my rectum I stiffened, but Rut didn’t stop. His tongue extended, thrashing my clit that had begun heating again. His tongue beat, pounded, and sucked until my hips began rocking again. Then his finger moved again, rimming me.
“Oh, gosh!” I cried, ready to lose my mind with this erotic stimulation.
And the sound… Oh, my goo— Hearing the erogenous sounds of him performing this forbidden act was foreign and invigorating. My nipples rubbed against the sheets as I rocked into him, creating a rhythm. Rut was the master multitasker, rendering me a salivating mess. I moved in sync with his laving and gentle swiping of a bundle of nerves new to me as well.
Then.
My entire frame quailed at what I knew was coming next. What it seemed to have known before my brain could quite prepare for. Tsunamic pleasure tumbled over me without warning. My hips lifted higher in the air and plopped up and down on its own accord. Hard mewls pushed through my tightened throat and my shoulders vibrated violently.
From shoulders to toes, my body shimmied until Rut’s talented mouth left my slit. I fell on my face and rolled over onto the mattress, landing in a position unfit for seduction.
My ass dropped. On a strain, I lifted…lengthening my legs. Then I dropped again, keeping my balance as I squeezed my ass and thighs.
“Fifty!” my trainer, Mickey, shouted behind me while I hit my squats.
I hardly paid attention. With so much shooting through my mind, I tried to focus on my form. And not on her. Competing for my attention was the barrage of calls I got this morning from the time I stepped out of the shower at my condo. These last few days had felt unreal.
“Seventy-one!” Mickey yelled from behind me, but I didn’t process the count.
Couldn’t.
“Yo!” I did catch.
Someone shouted that with more urgency. I felt Mickey tap the side of my back, telling me to call it quits. I stepped forward, ducked my head, and transferred the weight bar on its rack. When I backed up, I turned around out of breath, trying to see what the commotion was all about. Young Lord rang throughout the gym as sounds of metal bars clanking and grown men grunting filled the area.
It was Coach Brooks.
“Nate wants you in his office, ASAP!” she shouted over the music.
I felt my face fold. Why the hell would he call me from the gym? Figuring it was some shit I probably did wrong, like fuck with Brooks or the ticket I got on my way in when I was running late yesterday, I decided to go right away.
Grabbing my towel and jug of water, I headed out right away. The walk over to the front office from the gym wasn’t that far or maybe it was. Maybe my busy mind didn’t account for the distance because, before I knew it, I was inside the corporate doors of the Connecticut Kings’ franchise.
I walked up to the receptionist’s desk outside of his office. “Richardson called me up from the gym.”
The young girl, who I’d seen around the practice field, scanned me from top to bottom. I believed she was an intern, at least that’s what one of the trainers told me. She looked as though she couldn’t speak at first. Then when her eyes made it back up to my face, her pupils flipped wickedly. She lifted the desk phone to her ear and on the second beep I heard a masculine voice say three words before hanging up.
“He’s ready for you.” She tossed her head toward his door.
I stepped off, ready to find out why he had me called from the middle of a workout. I was new here but had never seen anyone called from the gym or field into the front office.
Nate was on a call when I walked in.
“He’s here,” he informed the person on the other end while staring at me. “Hold on.” He tapped a button on the box. “Azmir?”
Azmi—
“You got that Obama phone set up?”
My lips pushed out. “Huhn?”
“The Obama phone. The bootleg shit with inconsistent service?”
“Nah.” My eyes went to Nate’s, whose were locked on me as he leaned over his desk.
“You got a new private line?”
What? “Nah.”
“Then why the fuck haven’t I been able to reach you on ya phone?”
As realization hit me, my eyes closed and I shook my head. “My bad. It’s dead—my phone.” I was stumbling over my words, feeling so off. “It died this morning. Flat lined while I was kickin’ it with mom dukes about the funeral.”
But that was no reason for him to go drill sergeant on me.
I swung my arm. “Why you trippin’?”
Nate stood straight and walked over to the window like he knew what was coming.
“Why am I trippin’?” Divine repeated. “I’m trippin’ because I don’t need you going cowboy and hopping down the Turnpike to play street solider.”
“Ain’t no need.” I gotta text late last night when Parker got up to check on Wright, saying the crew finally got the shooters…in so many cryptic words.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “I’m good. Just gotta carry a charger, I guess.”
“So you heard about the services?”
That’s when Nate turned my way again. It was almost as though he was giving us privacy there for a minute.
I rubbed my chin, feeling that burn in my chest whenever I thought of B-Rocka.
Think of her… Think of her…
That was the only distraction I could use to retard the rage I felt when I allowed my mind to focus on his death. I hated that the tactic worked. Hated having to rely on a chick for anything. But I did in this case.
“Yeah. I heard,” finally, I answered.
“And about that…” Nate shoved his hands in his suit’s pants pockets as he strolled my way, sitting on the edge of the desk. “Given the nature of your cousin’s death, we need to move smartly.”
“What that mean?” I asked.
“It means we have to remember you’re a Kings now, duke,” Divine added. “You’re a liability to the organization.”
“Damn!”
“Let’s try ‘a pecuniary risk,’” Divine tried cleaning it up.
Nate snickered. I didn’t find shit funny.
“What Azmir is saying, Rut, is we think it’s best to add precautionary measures.”
My face went tight. “Like the fuck what?”
“You’ll have professional, strapped muscle with you that day. They’ll scoop you in Connecticut and bring you back that night.” There was emphasis on his last two words.
“I’m gonna be home, Divine. I’m good on security. And if I need heat, I got that, too.”
“That’s exactly the type of smoke we don’t want,” Nate explained. “Again, we need to be smart about the way we move around this shit.”
I let out a deep breath, realizing my lungs had calmed from my workout.
“That all you called me up here for?” I groaned, rubbing my head with the towel around my neck.
When Nate nodded his answer, I turned for the door.
“You’re not going to say goodbye to Azmir?”
Nate calling Divine “Azmir” reminded me how little he truly knew the dude. He may have known he was a real one but didn’t know how real. He also didn’t know how much of a pain in my fucking ass Divine could be. But because I knew him so well, and actually cared about the old fuck, I knew he had been stressed and crabby as fuck. Divine was still dealing with that documentary about his ties to the streets. He was a beast I couldn’t take on right now. I would just ignore the heat from him and keep pushing forward.
With my back to him, I mumbled, “I’ll holla.”
The temp receptionist was all up in my grill when I closed the door behind me. I scrolled to the desk and hit her with a grin I knew would distract her.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I rested my elbow on the shelf of the desk, leaning toward her.
“Heeeeeeeey, Rut!” she sang so sweetly.
“Oh. You know my name?”
“Stop playing, boy.” She giggled. “I know more about you than you know.”
My eyes flew wide, but I tried maintaining that smile.
“What’s ya name?”
Her cheeks dropped but her eyes fucking danced. She was game for whatever.
“Richell Win—”
“Chelly, what’s the name of shawtie that only works here a few days a week? Short chick, mocha skin, and wears her hair in a part down the middle? Long dark hair down her back—”
The spark of recognition hit her eyes.
“Oh!” She perked up. “You mean Parker?”
“Yeah.” My forehead wrinkled and chin dipped to play like I wasn’t confident. “Her, I think. She here today?”
She thought for a minute. “Yeah…”
There was a pause as she waited for more information on my inquiry.
My chin dipped lower. “You mind telling me where?”
I didn’t have my phone or a watch on for the time.
Richell went for the phone. “I can call her down.”
“Nah, I’m good. You could tell me where at.” I didn’t want to wait.
“Oh.” She put the phone down on the receiver. Then she bit her lip, understanding this brief chat was about some other female. “She’s covering in finance today. That’s on the fourth floor.”
I pointed. “Elevator that way?”
Richell nodded.
It only took walking around three corners for me to find her. She was sitting in a small office, typing away at a computer with a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich, sliced carrots and celery, and a bottle of water to her right. My dick swelled.
So engrossed in what she was doing, she didn’t even notice me. Parker froze, considered something on the screen, cocked her head to the side, and bit her lip. Then she looked down at a mountain of a binder with tiny numbers before going back to the computer and tapping the keyboard at crazy speed.
I moved into the doorway and tapped on the glass I’d just watched her through. When her eyes rolled up, my damn heart pounded.
The fuck…
I was sure it was because of what happened this morning. It had been buried under the other crazy shit in my brain. I ate her pussy. And now, staring at her in the light of day, I could taste her musk in my mouth all over again. My eyes closed and I squeezed them tight, trying to shake off the memory of her ass in my face quivering.
Parker was on her feet, quickly shuffling over to me. Her darkly lined eyes shifted all over, I guessed to see who was around. She swung her chin to touch her shoulder then her eyes bounced around again. I didn’t follow her actions. I couldn’t give a fuck.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Aye.”
“You okay?” She looked down at my tank, basketball shorts, jug of water, and sneakers.
“Yeah.” I tossed my thumb over my shoulder. “Was working out and Richardson called me to his office.”
&
nbsp; Her eyes blew the hell up. “Which one?” she kept her voice low, but I caught the concern.
I snorted. “Nate. He’s my—”
“Director of Players’ Success, I know.”
“Oh. You do?” She nodded, eyes still combing around us. “Seems like everybody in here knows something about ol’ Rut, I see.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. I jetted up here to ask you something real quick.”
Parker bit her lip and pulled it back. “Okay…”
“I got the call about B-Rocka’s funeral and shit.” I brushed the back of my head with my hand, feeling uneasy. I didn’t think the shit through. “I want you to go with me.” The silence was what made my eyes roll down to hers.
My chest pounded like a motherfucker.
Parker’s lashes blinked and eyes rolled down to the floor, swinging left and right. “You kissed me,” she whispered.
Huhn?
“When?” I asked like it was an accusation.
Parker looked left then right before stepping closer to me. “The first night we met. You kissed me…in the mouth.” She rushed out, “With your tongue.”
I fought the smile on my face with a frown. “Okay…”
Her head lifted again. “I heard the Ruby Voodoo podcast,” she whispered again. “I heard what you said about how often you don’t use your mouth.”
“Okay?” I chuckled.
Parker shrugged. “I guess… Thank you for trusting me with that.”
I didn’t know what to say. I never had a girl say thanks for oral or a real kiss. Where do you go from that?
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Huhn?”
“I’ll go with you to the funeral. Yes.”
I sucked in so much air, my eyes went wild and I grabbed my chest. Trying to play it off, I began to back away.
“Cool. I gotta bounce.” Then I stopped. “Oh, I gotta meeting tonight.” My arms swung in the air as I thought to explain more. “My partner’s in town… Some shit he needs to go over with me.”
“Oh!” Her shoulders lifted as she responded, eyes back down below somewhere. “Well, there are those leftovers in there. Thanks for telling me.” Her tone was too polite. Too professional. “Now that I know, I’ll only warm up half.”
