Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2)

by Christina C Jones

  “Uh… sure,” I said, allowing him to pull me into a hug that was way too tight, with his hands way too low, and lasted way too long – a whole four seconds, cause I was counting, waiting for him to let me go. I squirmed away from him, giving a tight smile.

  “So how have you been,” he asked, looking me over. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. I uh… thought we had an arrangement?”

  Ugh.

  To his credit – and maybe mine – Cedrick was a handsome man. Golden skin, chiseled features, nice teeth, all of that. But keeping with what seemed to be my theme for the day, he was boring. The sex was decent though, hence our continued arrangement, even after the engagement thing failed.

  But then…

  “Well, we did Cedrick, but you know how protective I am over my team.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that segment on my show?”

  “Oh, you know me,” I grinned. “I’ve always been very good at holding a grudge.”

  Cedrick was the host of Zone Report, a sports-centered news show that catered to an international audience, but was based here on the east coast. Cedrick was open about his preference for soccer over American football, but usually kept it pretty neutral… until a few months ago.

  For whatever reason – perhaps my waning interest in mediocre dick – he’d decided to direct his ire at the Kings. We’d immediately not done very well in preseason, but not badly enough for him to go on air, blasting the whole team, with specific vitriol towards Jordan.

  I didn’t take it well.

  “You know I have to present a well-rounded view. Can’t show any bias.”

  “Is that what you’ve told yourself?” I asked, tipping my head to the side. “Because you’ve been conspicuously silent about the current winning streak. But you know, don’t answer that. The point is, you said what you said, I didn’t like it, so here we are.”

  A smirk unfolded on his face. “Here we are. And now that I’ve run into you, looking gorgeous as ever… I’m hoping we can find ourselves somewhere else. Somewhere private.”

  “You can’t be serious,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You think I’m going to just jump in bed with you after months… just like that?”

  He shrugged. “I can guarantee some positive coverage of your team. As a matter of fact,” – he produced a cell phone from his pocket, contained in some strange, techy looking case that made me think about Naima and Margo calling him James Bond – “You can give me a sound bite now, and then we’ll see what could happen from there.”

  I wasn’t even shocked by the arrogance or delusion – it had always been there, and I didn’t care. He had a purpose, I used him for it, and kept it moving – which is what I was about to do now.

  “You ready?” I asked, smiling right up into his face. He nodded, then held the phone out to me, and I could see the recording animation on the screen. “Have a nice life, Cedrick.”

  I turned on my heels and walked away, leaving him standing there looking as stupid as I hoped he felt.

  “SO WAIT!! Is this man like… a ghost? WTF do you have me reading Cole? – Naima.”

  I chuckled at my phone, then typed back: “It’s paranormal romance. Expand your horizons bitch. He’s not a ghost, he’s just… Aram. He’s strong and sexy and can fuck you without being in the room. Basically, he’s everything.”

  “This shit is weird. But I can’t stop reading it. – Naima.”

  “I’ve never steered you wrong with a book, now have I?”

  I looked up from messaging back and forth with Naima when my doorbell rang, and glanced at the clock. It was just after seven in the evening – not exactly late, but I wasn’t expecting company. I’d eaten, showered, and dressed for bed before snuggling under a blanket on my couch with a glass of wine. Somebody was disturbing my damned peace.

  I kept my phone in my hand in case something went sideways, and crept to the door to check the peephole. A smile spread over my face as soon as I recognized the hoodie-wearing figure on the other side.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, as soon as the door opened. “You have a game tomorrow. You’re supposed to be on a plane.”

  Jordan shrugged, flashing those dimples at me as he eased past me and into my apartment. “I needed one more kiss first,” he said, pushing the door closed. “And I’m glad I did, so I could see this.” He tugged at my top, then met my gaze with a smile. “You got something to tell me?”

  “Absolutely not,” I countered, crossing my arms in a futile attempt to hide the J. Johnson jersey I was wearing, with nothing else except my panties. “Don’t you judge me for what I wear when I’m home alone.”

  He shook his head, then wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. “No judgement. I’m flattered.”

  I melted into him as he lowered his mouth to mine, shamelessly savoring the minty, manly taste of his lips and tongue. I whimpered as he lowered his hands, grabbing my ass to pull my hips into him, against a growing erection I knew we probably didn’t have time to do anything about.

  “Mmm, don’t tease me,” I whispered against his lips when we finally parted. “Doesn’t your flight leave at eight?”

  He squeezed my ass harder, then rocked his pelvis against mine. “Eight-thirty. But traffic.”

  “Mmmhmm,” I nodded, slipping my hands into the front of his sweats. “Traffic.”

  “Fuck,” Jordan groaned, grabbing my hands before I could grab him. “No time.”

  I sucked my teeth. “Rude.”

  “Sorry babe.” He cupped my face, planting a kiss on my forehead. “There’s something else though, that I wanted to tell you in person.”

  I jerked my head back, alarmed. “What?!”

  “Chill,” he said immediately, chuckling. “You remember that night of the Royal Ball, how you tripped on me about those pictures of me and Dawn?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. No recollection.”

  “Yeah right.” He sat down on the arm of my couch, motioning for me to come and stand between his legs. Obviously, I obliged. “Anyway, I didn’t get it then. But… I get it now. I really get it now.”

  I frowned, confused. “Jordan… what are you talking about?”

  He held up a finger for me to hold on, then fished around in his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out, turned on the screen, then held it up for me to see. My eyes went wide.

  Love Connection in the Works For Kings Exec and Sports News Heartthrob Cedrick Rochester?

  “Nooooo!!”

  “Yes,” Jordan nodded, as I scrolled through the pictures. The hug I’d grudgingly given looked downright inappropriate. The grin, when I told him I held grudges? Now it seemed flirtatious. My smile, as I essentially told him to fuck off, only in nicer words? Why did it look so damn inviting?!

  “Jordan, this is—”

  “Not what it looks like,” he finished for me, with a wry smile. “But, it looks like what it looks like. And knowing that you and him used to get down… I was ready to punch a hole through this dude.”

  “What website is this even on?” I asked, scrolling through the pictures again, horrified. It was like a car wreck – I couldn’t stop looking. “I’m not like… a celebrity, for people to take pictures of me!”

  Jordan shrugged. “It’s a gossip site, that follows TV personalities. You may not be a celeb, but your boy Ceddy is. Even if it’s just a low level one, he has a following.”

  “I’m disgusted.”

  “So was I,” Jordan scoffed. “I only saw this shit because Jess sent it to me, asking if we’d broken up. Seeing this herb ass dude with his arms around you turned my damn stomach.”

  My lips parted as I fully realized what he was saying. “Jordan… were you jealous?”

  “Damn right I was jealous,” he exclaimed, then broke into a laugh. “Like, I was heated. And then I remembered how my innocent dinner with Dawn must have looked to you—”

  “Damn right,” I nodded. “She was all over you!”
<
br />   “She was not all over me.”

  I sucked my teeth. “Her arms were around your waist, your arm was around her shoulders, and y’all were showing all your damn teeth, laughing and living it up.”

  Jordan reared back, twisting his face at me. “You just remember all those details like that?”

  “Just like you’re going to remember all the details from these pictures of me and Cedrick.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, then nodded. “Point taken.”

  “Uh huh.” I leaned into him again, draping my arms over his shoulders. “I didn’t realize you were the jealous type, Mr. Johnson.”

  “I’m not,” he insisted. “I’m just… possessive. Or something.”

  “Uh huh.” I grinned. “Is that why you followed me to that concert earlier this month?”

  He scoffed. “Wasn’t nobody following you. You can’t call it that when I bought my tickets and the ones for your friends at the same time, with you standing over my shoulder watching. And that’s wasn’t possessiveness. That was… me making sure we were good.”

  “Mmm,” I said, then pressed my lips to his.

  More than anything, I was teasing him. Brielle was one of the biggest popstars of our time, and her music was universal. Everybody enjoyed it. I hadn’t minded his need to tag along to the concert. With our seats so close, but not beside each other, it was almost like we were there together, and we got to take advantage of the “public privacy” backstage.

  That said, I did understand what he meant about making sure we were good. The concert was a few days after Thanksgiving, which was a few days after our meltdown. He’d taken three days to get to Kenya to see his mother and come back, then he had a game, and everything had just been so busy that we were kind of in flux.

  Now though… we felt solid.

  “I’ve gotta get out of here,” he said, but slid his hands underneath my jersey to cup my breasts. “I’ll never hear the end of it if I miss this plane.” His thumbs brushed, then circled my nipples, completely contradicting his declaration that he had to go.

  I pulled myself away from him, before I gave in to the urge to snatch the jersey over my head. “You’re right. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “It’ll be my birthday when I get back,” he grinned, and I shook my head.

  “Are you going to tell me what you want, or not?”

  “Not,” he said, standing up. “The plans are already made. You just have to be where I tell you at the time I tell you.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “So you’re surprising me, for your birthday?”

  He nodded. “Yep. All you gotta do is play along.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “Don’t be scared, beautiful. I promise you – we’ll both have a good time.”

  eighteen.

  My hands shook as I held up the tiny card in my hand, passing it in front of the electronic scanner that would let me in the door. I took a deep breath as I listened to the locks disengage, and the green light telling me I could come in flashed in front of me.

  I tucked Jordan’s VIP card to Arch & Point into my clutch as I pulled the door open and went in.

  Two security guards waited side by side, blocking the hall. It reminded me of that night, months ago, that I’d come to pull Jordan’s tipsy ass out of this very club.

  My, how things have changed since then.

  One of the guards looked me over, then stepped aside, allowing me to pass into the dark back hallways of the club. As soon as I turned the corner, a familiar face lit up in greeting.

  “Look at you,” Shenelle – better known around here as “Southern Comfort” gushed, hooking her arm through mine. “I knew you were fine, but goodness girl!”

  I couldn’t help blushing over the compliment. It was one thing to feel like you’d done a good job in the mirror. For a woman who turned people on for a living to think you’d done well? Something else entirely.

  “I’ve been tasked,” she continued, in her sensual southern drawl, “with getting you to the appropriate VIP room, and ensuring you that your privacy tonight is top priority. In other words, your secret is safe with us.”

  I quietly choked back a snort. Calling it a secret was being generous when so many people seemed to know.

  “Thanks Shenelle,” I said anyway, because that wasn’t her fault. “Can I get any clues about what’s going to be happening?”

  Her pretty caramel-toned face spread into a grin. “Nuh-uh. My lips are zipped, honey. Trust me though. You’ll have a good time.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I keep hearing.”

  Too bad that didn’t actually tell me anything.

  From jump, when he first told me to meet him here, of all places, I’d had my reservations. And an attitude. A serious fucking attitude. But best girlfriend ever would at least give it a chance, knowing that her man held a deep appreciation for the strip club, plus the fact that it was his birthday. So I smiled. I agreed. I waxed and buffed and pressed and dressed and got my ass here at the time he said.

  But I was ready to kill everybody in this place if anything got out of hand. Being best girlfriend ever didn’t mean I was going to take any bullshit.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Shenelle said in a soothing tone that really did calm the edges of my nerves. She led me to the door all the way near the back, to a room I’d never had to pull JJ from before. Using a card I hadn’t noticed before, she unlocked the door, then held it open for me, gesturing me inside with a flourish. “Have a great night,” she said, pushing me inside, and then closing the door behind me.

  The first thing I noticed was the stage.

  Lush black curtains dominated the backdrop in here, unlike the deep blues the club used everywhere else. There wasn’t one pole in the middle of the stage – there were six, arranged in a half-circle that gave an effect almost like a cage.

  What the hell is this man getting me into?

  I looked at the audience area where Jordan was sitting, looking good enough to eat with a fresh line-up and trim, and a dark grey Henley that clung to his muscular frame. Where I was standing was draped in shadows, and background music filled the room. He hadn’t seen or heard me come in.

  And neither had Cin.

  She stood in front of him in sky-high Louboutins, lace thigh-highs, and garters, plus whatever was underneath the short silk robe she wore. I hung back for a second, watching their interaction… pleased by how non-flirtatious it seemed.

  They really do look like friends talking, I mused, even though I still held a little skepticism. Even before getting back with JJ was on the table, I’d always thought their relationship seemed different from what it looked like on the surface – horny football player and money-grabbing stripper. I’d brushed that inclination off though. Because… Of course that’s what the relationship was. Why wouldn’t it be? He was single, she was sexy… that was just how these things went.

  Only… apparently not.

  The both looked up when I stepped forward, and Cin’s mouth dropped open. “Well, damn Cole!”

  Jordan didn’t say anything – he just stared.

  I’d taken minute care of my appearance tonight. Sleek, bone straight hair, parted right down the middle to frame my face. Professionally done makeup. Impossibly high heels. Glowy skin. And a tiny Kings royal blue dress that showed so much cleavage and thigh it barely qualified as a dress at all.

  I was pretty damned sure I looked ready to get on stage myself – which was the goal. These girls weren’t going to outshine me on my man’s birthday.

  Or any other, for that matter.

  Jordan stood up as I approached, quickly closing the distance between us. His big, nimble hands went to my waist, pulling me against him.

  “Mmmm,” I moaned – helplessly – as he kissed me, devouring my mouth like we hadn’t seen each other in days. He grabbed my ass as my dress rode up, batting my hands away when I tried to tug it back down.

  “Where did you get this, and when can
I see you in it again?” he growled into my ear, then grazed my neck with his teeth. I giggled as he licked me there, turned on by the wet, rough rasp of his tongue on my skin.

  “You like it?”

  “Hell yes.”

  “Mmm.” I backed away from him, giving him a naughty wink. “You’ll like what’s underneath even better.”

  His eyes went wide for a second. “Yo, Cin – cancel this shit. I’m taking my lady home.”

  “Noo,” I laughed, intersecting my fingers with his. “You planned this for your birthday, so we’re doing it. Come on.”

  “I was about to say,” Cin giggled, approaching us with a drink, which she placed in my hand. “I didn’t come out of retirement for the night for no reason. Somebody is gonna watch this show. Y’all sit down. Get comfortable.”

  She left us in the main area by ourselves, then went through a door that I suspected led backstage. Jordan pulled me down onto a piece of furniture that was some kind of armless love seat, and immediately slid his hand up my thigh.

  “Why would you walk in here looking good like this?” he murmured into my neck as he played with the hem of my dress.

  I took a long sip from my drink, teasing him with my silence before I answered. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s your birthday.”

  “Anybody else see you in this?”

  “The doorman at my building, and the security here.”

  “I’m fucking them up.”

  “Hush,” I laughed, getting comfortable in the space under his arm as I took another drink of whatever fruitiness was in the glass Cin gave me. “I dressed for your eyes, sir.”

  “Tell those niggas not to look at you then.”

  “Hush.”

  I jumped a little as the lights went out – completely pitch black – and didn’t relax until I felt Jordan’s reassuring arms around me. Tiny beads of light appeared in front of us, where the stage was, and I drained my drink, trying to prepare myself for… I had no idea what.

  I had no clue what to expect from tonight. A parade of strippers? Endless lap dances for him while I held the stack of money to make it rain?