Let's Get It On (21 page)

Sunday morning workouts usually took some getting used to for Maurice, but not today. He ran circles around the other wide receivers in the battery of drills that the new receiver's coach had drawn up. Unlike most of the other players, he wasn't bothered at all by the first day of minicamp, which was a tune-up for the month-long training camp in Spartanburg. They didn't normally start on Sundays, but Maurice was glad that he wasn't in his penthouse, with the blinds drawn, lying in bed and thinking of Kenya.

“Damn, Mo, you are acting like you're auditioning for your spot,” Homer said as they took a water break. “You're Super Bowl MVP.”

“The Super Bowl's over,” Maurice said, panting as he spoke. “I'm just trying to make sure we repeat.”

“Sure you're not trying to get over that chick?”

“Man, whatever,” Maurice said as he poured water over his head to cool himself.

“That was something, her leaving you at the altar, and for Mya. I was wondering why she wasn't giving me the panties. I was using all my moves on her. Guess we both wanted the same thing. A woman.”

“Lauryn's out of my life and my mind. That b . . . I should've never gotten involved with her to begin with.”

“Y'all were together for a long time,” Homer said.

“A waste of time. She was a gold digger and a liar. I was too blind to see what was really going on.” Maurice grabbed another cup of water and drank it quickly. Then he turned to his friend. “What's the gossip about me been?”

Homer shrugged his shoulders. “I don't listen to these dudes. You know how they are.”

Maurice looked over at a group of guys huddled at one end of the field who were looking at him and Homer, with grins on their faces. “I'll bet.”

“There was the occasional
Brokeback Mountain
joke. Smitty said he'd watch that movie if it starred Lauryn and her friend. Tell me that they at least let you watch.”

Crushing the paper cup in his hand, Maurice fought the urge to deck his friend. “Are you insane? Why would I want to see that crap? Lauryn was going to be my wife, and whether it was a man or a woman, she cheated on me.”

“And you did your dirt, too,” Homer said. “Remember the Miami Dolphins game and the two women in our hotel room three years ago?”

“So?”

“From the way you're acting, I know that you're fighting feelings for somebody,” Homer said.

“It's not Lauryn,” Maurice said, his voice low. “When I was in college, I had the right woman in my life, and I let Lauryn come between us. Kenya and I had been dating since we were in high school, and when we got to college, I became a star, and girls started throwing themselves at me. Up until the moment I met Lauryn, I was faithful, tempted but faithful. Kenya caught us together, and that was the end of us. She went back to Atlanta, and I started this relationship with Lauryn. All the while, Lauryn was screwing her roommate. She was spending my money on Mya like she was the man or something. I was such a fool.”

“Whatever happened to Kenya?” Homer asked.

Maurice picked up another cup of water. This was the part of the story that he didn't want to get into. Kenya was just around the corner, and neither of them had sense enough to work out their problems and be happy together. He knew that he had to atone for the past, but how long was she going to punish him, and why couldn't she see through Lauryn's deception?
Did she even watch the DVD to see that it wasn't me?
he thought.

“Hello,” Homer said, waving his hand in front of Maurice's face. “Are you having heat stroke?”

“Nah. Kenya's back in Charlotte. We were seeing each other these last few months. When I found out that I couldn't get my money back for the honeymoon deposit, James and I went to the Bahamas, and Kenya was there.” Maurice smiled as he thought about the moment he saw her in that red bathing suit.

“Wow, and you talked her into moving back to Charlotte?”

Maurice shook his head. “She was coming back, anyway. Her law firm opened a new office here, and she's heading it up.”

“Then why aren't you two together?” Homer asked.

“Long story, and I got laps to run,” Maurice said, then jogged off.

“Yo, Homer,” Smitty called out. “What's up with your boy? He's making us all look bad.”

Homer flipped Smitty off and headed over to the offensive coordinator's huddle.

 

 

Kenya punched in the first three digits of Maurice's telephone number; then she hung up the phone. She'd already called him three times, only to get his voice mail.
I can't keep doing this to myself. If it's over, then it's over,
she thought.
I shouldn't try to change things. It's obvious that he doesn't want to talk to me.
Kenya tossed her cordless phone across the room and turned the television to ESPN.

“The Super Bowl champion Carolina Panthers opened up their minicamp today,” the announcer said. “From the looks of things, these cats are looking to repeat.”

The camera cut to Maurice running a route to catch a pass from quarterback Jake Delhomme. “Mo Goings, last year's Super Bowl MVP, looks to be in mid-season form. The Panthers are going to need stellar play from Delhomme and Goings if they're going to have a chance to repeat, because the Atlanta Falcons . . .”

Kenya shut off the television, happy to know that Maurice wasn't avoiding her. But with the start of football season around the corner, Kenya couldn't help but wonder if he was going to fall back on his old groupie-chasing ways. She picked up the phone and dialed his number again, silently praying that he would answer.

“Hello,” he said.

“Maurice, it's me. Kenya,” she said.

“I know. Caller ID. How are you?”

“I need to talk to you, see you, if possible,” she said.

“I'm kind of tired, and I don't want to argue with you today.”

“I'm not looking for an argument. As a matter of fact, I want to apologize to you. I've been a fool, and I should've believed you when you said that Lauryn was making trouble for us. It doesn't make sense, but I'm still intimidated by your feelings for her. When you chose her over me, I never got over it, and I keep thinking that you're going to wake up one day and realize that I'm not the woman you want.”

“Kenya,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I made a mistake when I let my crotch think for me. I've learned from that, and you're the only woman that I've ever loved with my entire heart and soul. But you don't trust me, and I don't want you to feel like you have to keep looking over your shoulder, thinking that I'm going to leave you for Lauryn or anyone else.”

“Maybe it's best that we just be friends,” she said but didn't mean it.

“I don't want to be just your friend, Kenya. I want it all, your love and trust. Can you give me that?”

“Yes,” she said timidly.

“Do you mean it, Kenya? Because I'm not trying to lose you again. But I won't deal with accusations at every turn. We're probably going to run into Lauryn again, and you're just going to have to know that you're the woman I love, need, and want.”

“I can do that,” she said, “because I do love you.”

“Well, if you really love me, open the door.”

“What?”

“Open your door,” he repeated.

She dashed to the door, not caring that she was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a midriff-baring tank top, with her hair pulled back in a crude ponytail. When Kenya opened the door and saw Maurice standing on the other side of the threshold, she flung herself into his arms, dropping her cordless phone to the floor.

Hungrily, Maurice captured Kenya's lips, kissing her as if he'd been away at war. They stumbled inside, and Maurice shut the door with his foot. She savored the taste of his tongue as they fell backward over an arm of the sofa. With Maurice on top of her, she felt every throbbing muscle pressing against her. Unable to contain her wanton desire for him, she tugged at the waistband of his shorts until Maurice caught on and removed them in one quick motion. His erection nearly spilled from his boxer shorts, and Kenya reached between his legs and stroked his manhood, making him moan in delight.

“You have on too many clothes,” he said, his lips against her ear. He slipped a hand inside her sweatpants, then used his finger to push aside the satin material of her panties. She was hot and wet, and Maurice couldn't wait to taste her essence on his tongue. When he pressed his finger inside her, Kenya groaned and arched her body against his. Her breasts swelled against his chest as he used his finger to brand her from the inside. Maurice pulled back from Kenya, then scooped her up in his arms. “I'm going need more space than this sofa,” he said as he headed for the bedroom.

So many thoughts ran through Kenya's mind as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Would their relationship last this time? Could she really put all her trust in Maurice and not get hurt again? What about James? How would their relationship change? Would he welcome Kenya into the family, knowing what she'd tried to do? Did Maurice still want to marry her?

He looked down at her, noting her silence, and asked, “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” she replied, pushing her negative thoughts aside.

Laying her on the bed, Maurice eased in beside her. “If you have something you want to say, go ahead and say it.” Gently, he stroked her cheek.

She reached up, took his hand in hers, and brought it to her lips, kissing it gently. “I want you,” she said.

It didn't take long or much effort for Maurice to ease Kenya's clothes off and toss them aside. “I can't wait until we can do this every night,” he said, then took one of her breasts in his mouth, darting his tongue across her nipple until it harden like a brown diamond. Kenya grasped the sheets as he alternated from her right to her left breast. Her body was on fire, and she could feel her desire building between her legs and spilling onto her thighs. Maurice felt it, too, as he slipped his hand between her thighs and traveled into her moist valley.

With her eyes closed, Kenya let passion take her nearly to the brink under Maurice's touch, and when he replaced his finger with his tongue, she nearly climaxed. “Oh yes, Mo,” she moaned. “You feel so good.”

He lifted her hips, pulled her deeper into his kiss. Kenya grabbed the back of his neck as her legs began to twitch. He moved his kiss up to her stomach, back to her breasts, and finally rested on her lips. Positioning himself between her legs, their sex organs touched, and she shivered, anticipating the moment when he'd enter her. Neither of them thought about protection as they became one. They had a slow and steady rhythm that gave Kenya multiple orgasms. Each touch, caress, and kiss he delivered made her hormones rage like an inferno in the desert.

Maurice wrapped his arms around Kenya's waist as he rolled over so that she could be on top of him. “Look at me, baby,” he said. “Look at me, and tell me you love me.”

Opening her eyes, she stared down at the man she loved while gyrating her hips against his pelvis. “I love you, Maurice. I love you,” she repeated, like it was a mantra.

“I don't want nobody else but you, Kenya. You're all I'll ever need,” he moaned.

His words were nearly enough to bring her to a climax, and when he gripped her hips and pulled her back and forth, she couldn't hold back. Neither could he, and they reached the crescendo of their lovemaking together. Kenya collapsed on his chest, and Maurice kissed her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“You know, I got a house full of boxes, living-room furniture that's not set up, and a big bed, which I've been sleeping in alone,” he said, referring to their shopping trip.

Lifting herself up on one elbow, she smirked. “You could have sent it back.”

“And have to go shopping all over again? Nah, that's all right. You can come over and fix it,” he said.

“Are we jumping back into things too fast?” she asked.

Maurice frowned. “We wasted nine years and the last few months fighting, breaking up, getting back together, and fighting some more, and I'm sick of it. If I wasn't a fool in college, we'd be married and probably working on Maurice Lamont Goings III. So, no, we're not moving too fast, and I'm not going to let you talk yourself out of our life together.”

Smiling, she leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. “You're right. But there is no way I'm having three Maurices running around my house.”

“All right, then,” he said, tugging at her hair. “I guess I can ask the man upstairs for a daughter or two.”

“You're serious about having kids, huh?” she said. Kenya couldn't help but think about her miscarriage. Immediately, she wondered what her relationship with Maurice would have been like if she'd had that child.

“You can have more children, can't you?” he asked. “Do you want children?”

“Yes, I do, and I'm medically clear to have children. I don't think that when we were in college, either of us was ready to be parents, and God knew that, too.”

“Wouldn't it be something if we made our son or
daughter
tonight? That means we have to get married right away so when people start counting the months, it'll add up.”

Kenya's face lit up and a smile touched her lips as Maurice reached for the engagement ring on her nightstand. “Let's put this back where it belongs,” he said as he reached for her left hand. “And it's not coming off again.”