Love In the Red Zone (Connecticut Kings Book 1) (23 page)

I don’t know how long we kissed, but when we stopped, Jade slowly pulled from my bed. I lay in the same position, watching her toe to the door in nothing but a t-shirt. When she left, I felt…sad then angry. When I’d let my feelings slip, she made me feel like she had me, all to leave. But as I lay there catching my breath, I remembered Jade was a nurturing mother. She could discern what was best for the one she cared for. Me. Jade made the call I would have, had I not been too caught up in my feelings to make. She knew it was best to not turn that delicate meeting place into something sexual. She knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle that once the morning came. And for that, I was grateful.   

I lost my Section 8 Housing voucher. The allowed four weeks to find an apartment had passed…just like that. Months of waiting for this voucher and I’d let it slip through my fingers. It was the middle of November and once I realized the deadline date had passed, I contacted my case worker to follow up on the necessary recourse of action. Since, I’d been playing the waiting game to see if I could get an extension.

The past month had been a regulated schedule of acclimating Kyree to a new school district, working the salons, continuing with my online courses, cleaning Trent’s mansion from top to bottom, and still chipping away at his titanium exterior. Trent hadn’t been over-exaggerating when he admitted to having trust issues. Getting him to open up to me at night was like pulling teeth. I toned down my hyper-flirting with him
just a bit
. I, honest-to-goodness, couldn’t control my attraction to the guy. My inexplicable desire to get into his head had quickly turned into an uncontainable need. There was something so compelling about Trent. It was baffling and concerning how I’d felt so at ease around him. How I felt at home in his home as a guest. He wasn’t hospitable, just very relaxed and that was welcoming.

I continued to cook and even researched recipes that would pair well with his workout regime. Trent shared that he’d been training to get back on the field and that included his physique. While he looked to be in optimal shape to me, apparently he’d taken extra steps to get back to where he once was in terms of stamina. So, I purchased snacks that were as healthful and nutritious as they were delicious. Trent basically worked a full time job, leaving out behind Ky and me in the mornings and not returning until dinner time. One of the sweetest and most endearing things I’d ever seen in life was the one night I approached Ky’s room to tuck him in and was stopped in my tracks at the sounds of his voice with Trent’s.

“God, please forgive me for my sins. Please bless my grandmas, grandpas. Bless my sisters even though they be mean to me sometimes. Bless my teachers and friends at school. Bless Trent so he don’t get hurt at work by those big guys, running into him. And please, please bless my mommy with her work and school.” Ky’s voice was pleading. Sincere. “She’s working really hard and she’s the best mommy ever.” There was a pause and change in the inflection of his cadence. “Is that it, Trent?”

“You tell me,” Trent answered. “Is there anything else you want from Him?”

“I think that’s it,” Ky returned, unsure.

“Hmmm…” Trent considered that for a moment. “What about your dad?”

“Oh. Okay.” Another pause before he continued in that prayer cadence. “Please bless my daddy where he is. I hope he’s having a good night at his camp.”

I swallowed painfully at that fib I’d told my son three years ago when his father was sentenced to prison—again.

“I think that’s it, Trent.”

“Okay. Then you end your prayers with ‘In Jesus’ name. Amen.’ When you do that, you tell God you believe in His power and know who the blessings are going to come through.”

“Okay,” Kyree agreed. “In Jesus’ name. Amen.” I heard rustling, assuming it was Ky getting into bed. “Thanks for teaching me, Trent. I’m gonna tell Mommy I know how to pray!”

“No problem, chief. Anything you need, anytime.”

When I heard Trent heading for the door, I did a complete turn and dipped into the closest guest bedroom to me. It was a close call, but I wasn’t found out. My heart swelled as it pounded in my chest at a man teaching my son how to talk to God. It was something Trent really believed in. Many nights, when I crept into his room, I backed up, seeing him on his knees, silently praying. It was an admirable trait, and now he’d passed it on to my son. 

Teaching Kyree to pray wasn’t the only activity I’d accidentally walked in on with Trent. One weekend night, he’d gotten in late from training at Rutgers. It was after dinnertime and Ky had already gone down. I waited a bit before I went in to check on his day. When I toed in, I noticed Trent wasn’t in bed where I expected him. I moved on to the bathroom and saw the lights on. That thought reminded me that I’d done laundry and never replaced Trent’s towel and wash cloth, so I ran out and to the linen closet to get a set of the clean linens and brought them back in his bathroom. The closer I approached, I could see the vanity of his oversized bathroom with a centered shower that was encased by three glass walls and one marble one that faced the door. The room was extremely large having two vanities with built-in sinks on both sides of the centrally located shower and a circular porcelain bathtub on the other side of the room.

When I placed the linens on the one vanity, I caught movement in the mirror happening behind me. I knew I shouldn’t have looked. Knew from the moment I came in with the towels that the shower was running, but I couldn’t help myself. Slowly, my hungry eyes roved up the mirror and caught his bare feet spread far apart, his bundled calf muscles covered with long silky hair strands. His thighs were corded ropes, dangerous virility in the distance between the two. His hands were busy cleaning his pelvic area, but his abs were a slab of hilly board, and chest was swollen squares of plated muscle. His thick and hairy arms reached below and that’s when I noticed his dick was exposed as he stroked the soapy wash cloth over it.

I sucked in air that was audible as I jumped on my toes at how hot that image was. I felt my sex lubricate with feverish desire as my pulse pounded. My mouth hung open as I watched Trent clean himself.
Fucking huge!
The man’s dick wasn’t even fully inflated—I knew that from experience.  When my regard rose to his face, I caught his chin toward the floor, but his eyes on me. That had me collapsing into the vanity, clamoring to break my fall. I scrambled to the pads of my feet and bolted out of the bathroom, hearing Trent’s boisterous and taunting laughter behind me. The bastard already had clean linens in there!  

How did I not stay ahead of that Section 8 voucher?

I think I knew
…   

I hobbled into the house, body totally drained from the day’s activity, not to mention how hungry I was after serving all that food. Jade led the way, turning on the hall light and all of those leading into the kitchen. Kyree and I stayed behind, kicking off our boots and coats in the coatroom next to the garage.

“I’m tired.” Kyree yawned while rubbing his eyes.

He stood, waiting for me to hang his coat on the rack next to mine.

“Me, too,” I muttered with my back to him. “It’s all good. Maybe ya moms won’t sweat you for a shower and let you go straight to bed.”

I snorted, taking him at the shoulder and leading him into the hall so we could follow behind Jade. There was no way she was letting him touch his sheets without washing. It was Thanksgiving and we’d been around food and strangers most of the day. He’d have to eat that shower.

On our way down the hall, he whined, “I’m hungry, though, Trent.”

“Hungry?” I asked dramatically, but serious. “All that food at the church and you ain’t eat?”

“No. Mommy gave me a snack, but she said the food was for the people.” He moped.

After spending a few hours at Ezra’s with another pastor at our church and their wives, I headed over to the church for our annual dinner for the less fortunate. It was something I started just after I joined
RSfALC
. I joined with one of their auxiliaries there and paid for all the food and supplies through my charity. When I was locked up, Ezra continued my efforts along with the coat drive and Christmas dinner and gifts. This was my first time back at it. I’d given him a break, seeing he was newly married and all. Jade and Kyree asked to participate and met me in Harlem, at the dining hall the church owned.

All of a sudden, I smelled food on the way to the kitchen. A different miscellany of scents from where we’d just left. We’d just turned the corner for the kitchen and it dawned on me; I didn’t grab those bags of food the missionaries set aside for me to bring home. In fact, I recalled the one asking if I’d like for them to put something aside for us and I answered yes, but didn’t hear back from her on it.

Damn!

I was hungry, too. But what was it that I smelled? I hope my exhausted mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. It was after ten at night. I didn’t know if any restaurants were open, given the holiday.

“We’ll get you something.” I gave his little shoulder a gentle squeeze.

As we stepped into the kitchen, Jade shouted, “KyKy, come turn on the other light!”

She didn’t realize we’d entered the room. I stopped in my tracks when I saw her placing pans into the oven. There were several more waiting on the counter. My eyes ballooned.

“You mind giving me around forty-five minutes? I just want to get Kyree showered. And by that time, everything will be heated up, and I’ll be ready to fix plates.” She spoke nonchalantly, but implored with her weary eyes.

Even Jade was beat. I, on the other hand, was stunned and confused.

“When did you have time to cook this?” I asked, standing stock-still.