Love In the Red Zone (Connecticut Kings Book 1) (48 page)

Oh my god!

I’d admitted it to myself for the first time and hot tears sprouted from my eyes. I covered my pathetic jealousies beneath my palms as I hid my face. Below, Trent ate me with fervor, providing pleasure I now warred with against my selfishness. But I did. I envied the one thing I believed rivaled his full commitment to me. I believed he loved me: he’d told me so. But I wasn’t his passion. Trent could lose me and continue to be whole, unlike how he was with football. When I met him, he was a shell of himself. He was lost in the shadows of his heartbreak. I wanted that power in his life. I craved that place of importance because I knew I’d never leave him like his first love did. I’d never neglect or abandon him like his mother had all his life. I’d hide him in my heart and cherish him until my last breath.

The truth of that confession and the visual of the fantasy gave way to a vicious orgasm. My feet fell and I widened my thighs. My heels pressed into the blankets and imploded with bliss and the pain of what would never be. As I my body convulsed, Trent crowded me, his thumb replacing his tongue to help me ride out the last of my soaring. He entered me with no preamble. The curves and dents of his pronounced muscles in his shoulders, arms, and chest all worked together to push his thickness inside of me. I cried out. A fresh round of salty tears spurting from my face. My breathing uneven from a recent explosion and the excitement of having him inside me once again.

This was us. It was a realm where we could be free to be who we really were without the expectations of the world around us. It was where we felt safe to be the real Trent and Jade. We didn’t judge or condemn, but I did challenge him. I pushed him to trust me. To love me. To let me in to love him freely.

Trent lowered himself to kiss me. I wrapped him in my arms, tightened my legs around his waist, and licked and sucked my musk from his lips and mouth. To never feel this righ
t…
to never feel the heaviness of his sacks smack against my butt gutted me. Another cry hurled from the back of my throat. I squeezed him, anchored my palms into his shoulders and met his thrusts. In no time, I felt stirring in my groin.

“Why are you crying?” he grunted.

“Because I love you so much.” I could barely release.

“And that makes you sad?” his tone was softer, his plunges still delicious.

“That fact destroying us makes me sad.”

“Jade,” he groaned, but held a tight face.

That lack of assurance and stolid answer told me I was right. Trent was here tonight to tell me we needed to revisit the terms of our relationship.

“You know this can’t work if you don’t trust me.”

My face fell. “I can’t trust you to trust me.”

Trent angled his hips, forcing me to relax the crossing of my ankles on his back. He hit a new sweet spot, taking my breath away. He held my legs on his shoulders as he pounded me into an orgasm that had me forget to think and a spasm of pleasure ignited in my core, pushing me into a realm where I only felt him. Seconds later, Trent joined me. His clammy limbs shuddering all over me.

He moaned as he kissed me again, releasing my legs aside him. I could feel him throbbing inside me.

“That was everything,” he panted. “But something’s missing. It would be so much better with what’s under the pillows.”

“You want to use condoms now?” My eyes bulged.

“You wanna start using rubbers?” There was something misleading about his response.

“Trent, just tell me like it is. Don’t sugar coat what you need to say. I can deal with it.”

His mouth tightened and his neck swayed, gesturing his confusion. How could he be confused about what he wanted?

“Did you want to relax me before you broke the news?”

His regard went to something above my head as he considered that question. “I guess I did. But hold up! All I did was make one observation.”

“What observation?” I yelled.

“That this would be better with—”

Before he could finish his sentence, I recalled him mentioning the pillow. My arms fled up, above my head and swiped until I hit something hard and apparently sharp. I pulled it out, realizing what it was before I could land my eyes on it.

More tears. Tears that clouded my vision, robbing me of fully experiencing the moment.

“Now, this track has played at least fifty times since you walked in here—I lost track after I squatted and got a whiff of your jungle below,” I could hardly register the joke because I was blinded when I turned the princess cut diamond ring and it caught the right angle of one of the candle stems, breaking into luminous chards of light.
“…
but as the lyrics state you said you have feelings for me that you’ve never felt. And you’ve just once again confessed to loving me ‘
so much
’” the modulation of his tone changed to a girlie mocking one. “But you’ve been consistent about this for almost a year, and I’m convinced now.”

Tears escaped me again. Trent was mocking me to lighten the moment, but there was some truth in his teasing. He hadn’t trusted me to love him.

“I want you to marry me, Jade.” His vocals turned hoarse, raw.

For seconds long our gazes danced in the reflection of the flickered fare surrounding us.

“You’re serious,” I whispered.

He scowled. “Of course, I am.”

“I thought you were going to tell me we should slow things down.”

“Why did you think that when I just asked you to be my girlfriend?”

I sucked in a deep breath after that reminder. I’d totally forgotten about that text in Target.

Trent placed a quick peck on my chin. “You gotta trust me, Jade. You’re not the only one with your heart on the table.”

“I know!” I slapped my right hand over my mouth as though it would stop yet another cry from shooting up my throat. I squeezed my eyes closed. “I’m so tired of crying, Trent,” I admitted.

This day had been too emotional for me.

He kissed me again, this time on my nose. “Just don’t stop crying for m
e…
because you trust me to be your man, okay?”

I nodded, holding in a breath to fight the tears.

“Good. Now,”—he thrust inside me again, reminding me he was still there, and making me aware that he was still hard for me—“I need to know if I you’ll wear this here.” He took the ring from my grip and placed it on my left hand. “I need to know if you’ll be my wife, Jade. That’s how this thing works, you know?” He was teasing me again.

I nodded. Hard. I wanted him that bad.

“Love can be so insecure,” he sang with the track. “So please be sure.”

More damn tears.

“Damn!” he groaned. “Stop it, Jade! You overreacted again. We know this about you already; get over it!” He scolded gently. I tried to get it under control, sniffling like a toddler. “Now, one last thing.” He started to grind his hips, dipping and pulling with fluid movements in and out of me. He lowered his thumb to my clit and started rubbing sweetly. “I’m taking you away on a yacht next wee
k…
Bye week. It’s the one vacation period football players have during the season. You can’t tell Ky. I can’t invite him because of all the nasty ways I wanna fuck his mother on the boat, and I don’t plan on having her in clothes the whole time.”

I shook my head and swallowed hard. “No, he wouldn’t like that.”

My eyes rolled to the back of my head from his actions below.

“Nah. So, you’re gonna have to do the dirty work for me. You be the bad guy.”

“He has school. Problem solved,” I moaned.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t think about that.”

I nodded with closed eyes. “So, that makes way for you to explain this.” I lifted my heavy ring finger to him, enjoying his efforts.

“O
h…
Tha
t…
”

“Yeah.” I licked my lips and pulled his face to mine. “Think about it later. Right now, I’m about to come again.”

Our lips met and I was lost to him again, only this time, I wasn’t working against lone efforts to get there. Trent wanted me there as his wife.

On the field where the magic of the atmosphere is the clamorous excitement from the turned up fans in the bleachers, the scurrying on the field from the teams’ staff, and the fast and animated remarks of the commentators for broadcasting, there was me pacing the green, ruminatively, trying to think my way through a nearing panic moment. 

After a horrific three quarters of play, I had to think and think fast. With my rustiness, I miraculously led the
Kings
all the way back from a 17-point deficit to tie the game. But we were going to lose, and on my watch, there was no time for losing. As the new first-string quarterback, I’d still been warming to my old skill set, and couldn’t have my team penalized for that. We’d already kicked off the season with too many
L
s, risking a slot in the playoffs. I’d been spending hours and hours in the film room, watching old plays from my team and historically notable ones from others. As I measured the time on the clock against our position on the field, something hit me.

“Coach!” I called over to Lou where he was in a huddle with the other coaches, conferring on the next play. I glanced down the field at JJ, who was alone in a zone, trying to subdue his anger. That goddamn Bobby Samuels, a cornerback from the
Saints
, had been fucking with him like a little bitch throughout the game—the game we were about to lose. “A suggestion, please.”

Coach Lou glared over at me, his long curly gray eyebrows meeting his lashes. It was a dangerous call, but one I was prepared to make for my team. He made his way over and I turned him away from the cameras and formed our own huddle, explaining the play I felt we could execute and get ahead of the
Saints
. It was a risky call, but I was desperate to come out on top of the tied score of thirty-one. I shared with him and paid Coach a few seconds to consider it.

“Huddle!” he yelled for the team and coaches, no word on my recommendation. I followed to where the team gathered and as soon as we were settled, Coach demanded, “Bailey,” he nodded with hard eyes. “Call the play.”

I explained the play, directing JJ to an unusual position on the field, but one he could pull off if he could shake Samuels
Petty-Paulie
antics. After the call was made from the coaches to execute, we broke out and the assigned players took to the field. After the defense forced the
Saints
to a three and out, we were set to receive the punt with less than a minute on the clock. JJ was back to receive the it.

The punt was away, a low line drive kick. JJ came up to meet the ball. Shockingly, it went right through his hands, taking my heart to the ground with it. But he scrambled to pick it up, and after he finally did, he was practically surrounded by would-be tacklers. JJ backtracked and was seemingly running toward his own end zone. He shook the first tackler and then reversed field like the lit talent he was. He did a tightrope act and managed to stay in bounds along the sideline, picked up a convoy and took it all the way to the house for the game winning touchdown.

The crowd went all the way crazy. And I couldn’t help my groin-grabbing posture as I jumped on my toes all the way into the field until I made it to my dude. We made a show out of our victory dance, but I let him lead because that play was his. He’d killed it. And I was damn proud of my boy. JJ needed that play for more than one reason, and I was happy he had been able to make good on it. It was one for the history books, showcasing his field agility and focus.