Page 28 of Mr. On Your Knees
She’d listened to him earnestly that morning of their first planning call, hearing the quiet authority in his voice as he’d told the team that this year’s Juneteenth event meant more to him than just commemorating another year of celebrating the freedom that Black people should’ve always had. No, for Jared, this was a defining moment in a state who’s leadership was systematically trying to erase Black history and the rights of Black Americans. His plans for the art exhibit and the masquerade ball would symbolize every step of the Black experience in this nation and make the undeniable statement that because they’d stolen his people and that his people had subsequently built this nation, they belonged in every space they occupied whether it be in Ivy League schools, political offices or on Wall Street, they were here and nobody would ever take their freedom again.
Her eyes had teared up as she spotted a smaller rendition of a picture that she’d also seen in the collection at the gallery. It was of the Emancipation Day celebration held in the “East Woods” on East 24thStreet in Austin, Texas dated June 19, 1900. Jared had always been involved in the community, doing whatever he could to help their people get the resources they needed while simultaneously planting himself solidly in the hospitality industry. That’s why working for Jason Carrington had been so important to him. Being a part of an empire that a Black family had built despite the odds was inspiring to him. And he, she thought with a heaviness in her chest, was inspiring to her.
She continued walking down the hallway, admiring more pictures on the walls, when she came across an open door. Familiar sounds had a smile appearing on her face as she moved closer to the door and peeked her head inside.
Jared sat in one of two gaming chairs in the center of the room. His long legs were bare from the hem of the red basketball shorts he wore down to his toes. A loose fitted white Michael Jordan t-shirt covered the ripped muscles of his chest she recalled dragging her tongue over last night. His hair looked a little unkempt, his beard in need of his daily grooming, but he was still fine as hell.
A remote was in his hand and his attention was focused on the huge television screen in front of him. He was playing some basketball game and in that moment she was immediately transported back three years ago to the game room he’d had in their apartment. How many nights had he left their bed to go into that room and get lost in a game? He’d once told her that he’d turned to games whenever he heard his parents arguing. And then, after his mother had left, he’d played all the time, until his father had forced him to start going to the community center where he’d eventually hooked up with his mentor.
While her heart had always ached for the boy whose mother had broken his heart, she’d sometimes felt a little competition from this pastime that could take him out of the bed with her and thrust him into a place that she wasn’t a part of. That had her throat clogged with tears she’d already shed so long ago for this same reason and she hurried to turn and leave. But the strap of her purse she’d been holding in her hand, caught on the doorknob stopping her escape.
“Hey, good morning,” Jared said as he set the remote control to the side and stood to come to the door.
Desi yanked and cursed and yanked at the purse again until the strap was finally free. But it was too late. Jared was beside her when she looked up again. He had one hand on the door that was now wide open and reached out another to lightly touch her elbow.
“Leaving so soon?” He raised a brow but there was a smile on his face.
She cleared her throat. “Um, yes, yeah. I need to get home. I have some work to catch up on.”
“It’s Saturday morning, Desi. You hate working on Saturday mornings unless you have an event. Do you have an event today?”
She opened her mouth to say yes, but instead, “No. I don’t,” came out.
He dropped his hand from the door and let his other hand fall to hers, linking their fingers together. “Then come sit with me,” he said and gave her a light tug.
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to interrupt you.” But her feet had other ideas and were already following him deeper into the room.
“Have a seat,” he said when he stopped in front of those two odd looking chairs. They had a see-saw appearance but were black leather seats. His long sexy body had lounged in it effortlessly but now he was suggesting she plop her curvy body onto one and she could do nothing but shake her head. Her shoes were still downstairs so her toes dug into the plush navy-blue carpet on the floor.
“Um, I don’t think that’s the best chair for me,” she said dragging her gaze from the chair to him.
He grinned. “It’ll be fine, but look, okay, cool. Let’s go over here.”
Behind those chairs, against a wall was a dark-blue-cushioned couch. He still held her hand and led her over to it so they could sit.
“I really don’t want to interrupt your game. I know how much you hate that,” she said as she sat. “I was going to go downstairs grab my shoes and then call an Uber.”
“What?” He frowned. “That’s crazy. You don’t have to call for a ride. I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready. I just wanted to talk to you first.”
“Oh.” She didn’t want to talk. Yes, they definitely needed to talk, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. Just like she’d been volleying back and forth last night about whether sleeping with him again would be a good idea, she wondered about this talk. Wondered whether it was going to move them forward or hold them in this emotional limbo she felt like they’d both probably been in all these years.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked when he was sitting facing her, his right knee touching her left knee.
She stuffed her purse into the side of the chair on her right and then turned back to face him. “Physically or mentally?”
He reached for both her hands, holding each in his as he said, “Both.”
“Well, you certainly haven’t lost your ability to leave my body feeling well-fucked and overused. But lucky for me I already had a massage scheduled for Monday afternoon,” she replied.
“You still going to that same place? Melissa still servicing you?”
The way his brows had immediately hiked up and his voice had taken that you-better-give-the-right-answer tone slightly amused her. “Melissa left about a year ago so, her replacement, Moe, has been great.”
His whole face bunched in irritation now. “Moe? You lettin’ some strange dude put his hands on you? Nah, we have to find you someplace else to go. I’ll get you an appointment at the hotel and make sure one of our top ladies is on hand to service you.”
The jealousy was kind of sexy because while she knew Jared would always step up for her and had no qualms about his desire to keep her to himself, there was no underlying crazy anger there that might take a situation out of control.
“Calm yourself down,” she said tugging on his hands playfully. “Moe is short for Monique.”
