Heaven Forbid (5 page)

Kelvin Petersen leaned his lanky, six-foot-five frame against the shower tiles. He closed his eyes as the water pulsated over his body, and then turned so that his knee would feel the liquid massage. He’d just finished another round of physical therapy with the team doctor and wasn’t too happy with what he’d heard: It would be another month before his knee was a hundred percent. The doctor was recommending that Kelvin’s modified practice schedule continue and wouldn’t confirm that he’d be ready to start at the beginning of the NBA season.

Kelvin turned so that the hot, pulsating water worked the muscles in his back, much as his masseuse would do in another hour. He didn’t want to think about what the therapist had said, because that would mean thinking about Guy Harris, the man who dared threaten him for the position that last year was his alone—right point guard. Nobody questioned that Kelvin started in this position, every game. Not only did he dominate it on the team, but he was a dominating force in the league as well—that is, until the benefit game played a month ago, when the Denver Nuggets’ lumbering center had become a tree, one that had sent Kelvin’s attempted layup into the stands while the center became entangled in Kelvin’s feet. All three hundred twenty-five pounds of this former Nebraskan came crashing down hard on Kelvin’s right knee. Word had it that Guy was on the phone to their coach the very next day. And as of right now, Kelvin’s nemesis was also in the starting lineup. Kelvin abruptly turned off the water, toweled off, and moments later was dressed and heading out of the training facility.

“KP! What up, dog?” It was Kelvin’s friend and fellow baller, Jakeim.

“Nothin’ to it, son,” Kelvin said, reaching out for a brother’s handshake.

“There’s something to it, to hear your boy Guy talkin’.”

“Aw, I ain’t worried about that fool. He’ll get put back in his place as soon as my knee’s straight.” Kelvin stepped back and feigned a fade away jumper. He tried not to wince as an ache sliced through the lower portion of his leg.

“Take it easy,” Jakeim cautioned. “We got a long season ahead of us, and I’d definitely prefer to have you healthy for the homestretch.”

“Don’t worry, Keim. I’m going to be back on the court, full press, in three weeks. And I’m planning to work my way back into that starting position before the first game.”

“Just know a brothah has your back,” Jakeim said. He cocked a knowing smile at one of the secretaries who worked in the building and was looking at him the way a thirsty man would water. “Lookie here, dog, let me get with this feline and hollah back atcha.”

“Aw-ight, Keim. Later.” Kelvin deactivated the alarm on his cherry-red custom Ferrari Fiorano Coupe, opened the door, and slid inside. Something about sitting down in this creamy, off-white leather always made him feel good. But once his iPhone vibrated and he looked at the caller ID, his feelgood didn’t feel so good anymore.

“What.” Kelvin voiced the word like a statement, instead of a question. A man heading to the electric chair would have sounded happier.

“Is that any way to greet the mother of your child?”

The woman’s silky voice grated like steel wool on soft skin. “I ain’t up for no yakkity yak, Fawn. What do you want?”

“What I want,” Fawn spat, all pretense of friendliness gone, “is some time and attention for me and my child. Little Kelvin hasn’t seen you in a month! He misses his daddy!”

“That boy barely knows me.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

“Look, I’m not in the mood for this bullshit, Fawn. I’m not the one who spent the end of last year in Miami, chasing another jock, courtesy of my child support. You weren’t worried about me seeing my son then, now, were you? But now that he got cut and I’m healing, your ass is back on my side of the world talking about your son miss his daddy. You think I’m ’bout to bite down on that bullshit, you out your muthafuckin’ mind.”

“You know why I went to Miami, Kel.” Fawn turned her voice silky again, almost childlike. “I was trying to get back at you for fuckin’ my best friend.”

“If she’d been your best friend, then she wouldn’t have been in my bed, now, would she?”

“Any woman who gets the chance will climb into your bed, Kel. You know you’ve got it like that. Now, baby, can we come over? Please! Your son misses you; he really does. Here, baby, talk to your daddy.”

Kelvin rolled his eyes.
Aw, here we go. This son-as-a-pawn bullshit all over again.
He tried to steel himself against the range of emotions he knew would accompany hearing his son’s voice.

“Hi, Daddy!”

Kelvin’s heart melted. “Hey, Little Man. What you doing?”

“Nothin’.”

“You been a good boy?”

“Uh-huh.” Kelvin heard Fawn’s voice mutter something in the background before his son continued. “We comin’ over, Daddy?”

I can’t stand that bitch.
“Put your mama on the phone.”

After agreeing on a time and giving Fawn his new gate code, Kelvin ended the call. He reached into the console and pulled out a blunt, breathed in the smell of pungent weed mixed with vanilla-flavored tobacco and lit up. He loved the smell of vanilla. It had been one of his ex-girl’s favorite scents. His ex-girl Princess. Kelvin allowed his mind to roll back as he took a long drag off the cigar-wrapped weed, punched in his iPod, and cruised through Phoenix’s light afternoon traffic. At one time, he’d had Princess Brook wrapped around his finger. When he told her to jump, she’d simply ask “how high?” At one time, that girl would have done anything for him—and had. But that was almost three years ago, before Fawn got pregnant, and before Princess turned into a Holy Roller. That’s what he’d heard, that Princess was like a campus preacher, trying to convert the campus crowd to Christ. Kelvin took another long hit off the blunt before rolling down the window and flicking the small remainder out the window. He turned up Lil Wayne and bobbed his head to “Lollipop,” remembering when Princess had treated his body like one. But that seemed as if it had happened a whole other lifetime ago. Because in their last conversation, Princess had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that what they’d had was over….

“What do you mean, you’re not coming down here? After I had to call all over LA to track you down? Why aren’t you and Joni in the condo? And why aren’t you using the cell phone I sent you? Look, never mind that. I just set up a roundtrip, first-class ticket for you, woman. You better get your ass on that plane.”

In the beginning, during those first few weeks back at UCLA following their breakup, Princess had considered Kelvin’s offers. But she’d known those gifts came with strings attached. It had taken all of the previous summer to get him out of her system, and truth be told, he still wasn’t completely gone. All the more reason for her to do what she knew she had to do—stay strong. “Things are different, Kelvin. I’m living for God now.”

“Living for God?”

“I’m not the same girl who left college in May. For instance, I won’t continue this conversation if you insist on using foul language. I’m God’s Princess now.”

“Oh, so I’m supposed to believe you all, what, celibate and shit? That you’re not getting your smoke on, your drink on, or fuckin’? Oh, my bad,
making love?
” Kelvin looked in the mirror at his rock-hard abs as he paced the floor of his home gym. “This is Kelvin Petersen you’re talking to, baby. I know I turned that shit out right there. You gotta come, because the ‘KP’ is callin’.”

Silence had filled the air then, and Kelvin remembered how strong Princess’s voice had sounded when she finally responded. “This conversation is over, Kelvin. Have a nice life.”

“Have a nice…What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I can show you better than I can tell you, Kelvin, and I want you to listen up: Jesus is my boo.” The click in his ear signaled her good-bye.

That was the last time he’d spoken to Princess, almost two years ago. He’d called again, but the number had been disconnected. Later, he found out she’d moved back on campus. According to Brandon, who kept him informed on all things Princess, she’d moved back so she could better minister to her fellow students. Fawn thought she knew everything, but she didn’t know this: while almost any woman who had the chance would climb into his bed, Kelvin’s mind was on the only woman who had climbed out of it…and stayed out.

Carla Chapman turned on her side and raised her thick leg high in the air. Some people might have been surprised at how limber this size 18 body was, but her insatiable husband was more than enough reason for this cushioned sister to keep her body pliable. She moaned with pleasure as Lavon parted her flesh, sank in to the hilt, pulled out, and sank in again.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” he whispered, his breath hot and wet against her ear hole.

“All d-day,” she stuttered as Lavon shifted strategically to hit her sensitive spot.

“Uh-huh, well I’m going to give you as much as you can stand.” Lavon lifted Carla’s leg higher, settling into a smooth lovemaking rhythm. He reached up and tweaked one of Carla’s luscious, forty-four double d’s before running his hand over the chocolate belly he loved to jiggle and down to the folds of her feminine paradise, where he heightened her pleasure with a finger working a rhythm all its own.

“Oh, baby…” Carla could barely get out the words, so expertly was Lavon playing all her keys. Her moans continued as he found another sensitive spot and massaged it the same way his penis massaged her insides. Lavon pulled out suddenly and handled her body as if she were a size 6. He turned her on her side, directed her to her knees, grabbed a hold of her shoulder-length weave, and entered her from behind. Soon, almost four hundred combined pounds of sexual healing and body slapping had the springs creaking, the windows shaking, and the four-poster bedposts hitting the walls. It was a good thing these adults had the house to themselves, because based on the sounds emitting from the home’s master suite, one of Carla’s kids may have dialed 911. Fortunately, Brianna, Shay, and Winston were spending the week with their other family: Stan; Passion; and Passion’s daughter, Onyx. Carla could only imagine their Huxtable-like activities. Hers and Lavon’s alone time, however, resembled
Sex and the sho’nuff City!

“Oh, baby, that was so good.” Carla cuddled her gleaming body into Lavon’s equally perspiring one and gave him a sloppy wet kiss. “I don’t know how you keep getting better, but you do.”

“This inspires me,” Lavon said, playfully pinching Carla’s ample butt cheek. “And this,” he said, patting her furry mound. “And this,” he whispered, licking her neck.

“Stop, that tickles.”

“Oh, you want me to stop now?” Lavon playfully pushed Carla away from him.

“Don’t even think of getting out of this bed.” Carla rolled over and threw her leg over Lavon’s as she faced him. She took in the ordinary-looking, extra-dark face that turned her on more than Denzel Washington—either the actor or her so-named former rubber friend—ever could: the bushy eyebrows, beady eyes, thick nose and lips. Lavon wasn’t your typically handsome man, but he could give any pretty boy a run for his money below the waist. She reached up and wiped away beads of sweat, smiling at the man who’d replaced her prudish, frigid ex-husband and finally allowed her to throw her dildo away.
The real thing is definitely better than the imitation, and close to the nine inches the manufacturer made.
“I love you so much, Lavon Chapman. I didn’t know a woman could feel this much love for a man.”

“So, was I worth it?” Lavon’s tone was playful but his eyes were searching.

Carla knew what Lavon was thinking about—the very public scandal, church ouster, and subsequent divorce she’d endured over three years ago. Lavon, on the other hand, had come through the ordeal fairly unscathed. Except for the hurt he felt for what she went through, hurt that he obviously still felt. Carla caressed his cheek tenderly before kissing his juicy lips. “I’d go through everything again to end up right here, right now, with you.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Lavon kissed Carla’s nose and enveloped her in his strong, meaty arms. “I love you, woman.”

The two satisfied adults lay in each other’s arms, catching their breath and thanking God that they’d found each other. For each, it had been quite the journey, one that both thought might be the end of Carla Danielle Ellison Lee Chapman. Neither was proud of the fact that their love affair had begun when Carla was married to Doctor Stan Lee and was copastor of Logos Word Interdenominational Church. Lavon had gone to the church to produce a series of inspirational DVDs for the ministry, but he ended up with the minister instead. It hadn’t been pretty, and both were sorry that the affair had happened, but neither was sorry for the outcome. They’d asked forgiveness for their former transgression—from God, from Carla’s former husband, and from her children—and then they’d moved on to embrace the love that God had given.

That they were soul mates was not even a question. Carla and Lavon fit together like white on rice, eggs and bacon, chicken and waffles, sausage and grits. That their professional lives melded together as easily as their private ones was further proof that theirs was a love meant to be. Lavon was the executive producer of Carla’s nationally syndicated talk show,
Conversations with Carla,
a show that had flourished under his hands-on guidance. Carla knew many of her Christian friends would disagree with her, but she believed it was God who had sent Lavon to their church to film the Logos Word ministry. And as hard as the subsequent disgrace had been to endure, Carla felt God had a hand in that too. For the prize she now held, and who held her in his arms, she’d again endure the cross of persecution.
Must Jesus bear the cross alone, and all this world go free….

“A penny for your thoughts, Puddin’.”

“Is that all they’re worth?” Carla reached over for a sheet to cover them. “I was just thinking about a message left earlier, on my private line at the studio.”

“Who was it?”

“Believe it or not, it was Maxine Brook, Tai’s mother.”

“Girl, I know who Mama Max is. I once belonged to King and Tai’s church, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot that you’re a church ho, changing your membership like women change shoes.” Carla laughed when Lavon pinched her tittie.

“Your fine butt is what pulled me away from Mount Zion, believe that. What’d Mama Max want?”

“Wants me to call her. Says she just heard a story that needs to be told, and she thinks my show is the place to tell it.”

“Oh, Lord. With Mama Max, that tale could be just about anything, especially if it has anything to do with her sleep-around son.”

“King? Not anymore. He’s being faithful to Tai, at least he’d better be.” Carla was silent for a moment as she thought of Tai Brook, her sister in the Lord, who’d endured her own share of pulpit pain down through the years. “No, I don’t think it’s about Tai and King. But whoever or whatever it’s about, Mama Max will have my ear. But not until Monday because,” Carla purred, kissing Lavon’s chest, “this weekend”—she kissed his neck—“is all about…just the two of us.” Carla kissed Lavon’s lips and continued singing the Grover Washington classic as she eased off the bed. She turned, jutted out her sizeable assets, and put her hand on her hip. The stance was saucy and seductive. “I’m going to take a shower. Care to join me?”

Anyone watching would have been surprised to see a big man move so fast. “Baby, this sounds like round two.” Lavon sidled up behind Carla and rocked her in his arms. “Just the two of us…” The lovers hummed and two-stepped their way into the shower.