Page 52

DEKE

“I wanna show you something.” I took Davina’s hand, after she’d showered and put on a pair of leggings and an oversize Tupac T-shirt that didn’t do anything to hide her curves. “You might want to put on those Air Maxes you brought.”

When she had her shoes on, I led her out the front door and gripped her hand as we rounded the house and reached a flagstone path. We made our way between oversize pine trees while skipping broken stones, until I spotted the fence veiled in black netting.

“No way.” Davina gaped.

“Yep.” I released her hand to open the gate, and when we stepped onto the smooth basketball court, she laughed and said, “Of course you would have this here!”

It was blacktop, with white lines and goals on both ends. It was surrounded by trees, so we couldn’t even see the house from here. A basketball rack protected by a weatherproof cover was near one of the goals.

“It might’ve been my idea,” I said to Davina as I uncovered the rack of basketballs. “Can’t go in on a property without a court, man. It’s just not right.”

She laughed as I grabbed one of the balls and dribbled. I bounced it from hand to hand, sidestepping, then circling around her before rising on my toes and aiming for the goal.

“That defense is weak, baby!”

“Oh, really?” Davina cocked a brow, then she nodded slowly, like she felt challenged and wanted to prove me wrong. She jogged away to scoop up the ball, and I was surprised to see how well she handled it.

“Hold on now. Don’t tell me you’ve been keeping this side of you a secret,” I said, grinning.

She kept dribbling, moving the ball between her legs before stepping back to the three-point line and taking a shot. When the rock slipped through the net, I exaggeratedly cupped my mouth and stared at her.

“Who taught you that?” I asked, dropping my hands.

She busted out laughing as I met up with her. “Remember me telling you about my little brother, Abe? Well, he needed someone to practice with when he was younger. I used to take him to basketball practices and camps during the summer. And while I worked on GOC ideas, I’d sit and watch him. I helped his team as a coach once.” She paused, fighting a smile. “And I might’ve played varsity in high school, too, so ...”

“How did I not know this?” This woman had to be after my heart.

“I wasn’t all that good at it. Honestly, it was so long ago. Feels like a blip.”

“What position did you play?”

“Point guard.”

“The one.” I couldn’t help my smile. I ran around her to grab the ball. “Well, how about we play a match. The one against the two. We can make a bet on whoever gets to five first.”

“Oh yeah? And what will I get when I win?”

I tucked the ball beneath my arm, meeting up with her again. Her eyes radiated sunlight, a smile teasing her lips. “Depends on what you want.”

She thought about that while nibbling at her bottom lip. “I want ice cream,” she replied, which made me laugh.

“Okay. That’s doable. But if I win, you gotta come to one of my games.” I knew I was testing her. This weekend was an all-or-nothing thing—we both knew it deep down—and a part of her was still reserved, but if I could get her to agree to show up for me later, then it wouldn’t be over. What we had wouldn’t be limited to one weekend.

She dropped her chin, running her tongue over her plump bottom lip. Then she nodded and said, “Okay. It’s a bet.”

“Cool.” I stepped back and dribbled the ball. “You gotta get that defense up, though. I’m not taking it easy on you.”

“I don’t expect you to.” She tugged on her leggings, hiking them up at the knees as she lowered into a defensive position.

“Now that’s cute,” I said, dribbling around her, then taking my first shot. The ball sunk in, and I tossed my hands in the air as she narrowed her eyes at me and pointed a finger.

“Okay, I see how it is.” She collected the ball, bouncing her way around me. When she leaned forward, I did the same, looking into her eyes and anticipating her next move.

She started to go right, so I did, too, but then she pump-faked it and stepped left, aiming for the goal. The ball hit the backboard and slid right in.

She grinned, and I nodded, huffing a laugh as I grabbed the ball this time. She tried squaring up with me, swatting at the ball, and I took that opportunity to run around her, leap in the air, and dunk it.

“Oh, really ? It’s like that, Bishop?” she called, with a hand on her hips.

“Yeah, baby,” I said, planting a kiss on her cheek as I passed her. “It’s like that.”

The game went on for at least fifteen more minutes. She missed her next shot, while I landed my next two. Sweat beaded on my forehead as she swiped at hers with the back of her hand.

“Four–one,” I called out, and clearly that fueled her, because she took control of the ball and landed her next shot.

“Two–four,” she announced, skipping off.

“I’m about to win, so it doesn’t even matter,” I taunted, loving that fire in her eyes. She was competitive just like me, and there was something about seeing that heat in her eyes that turned me on.

“Go on, then. Take your shot,” she said, back in her defensive stance. Then her face warped as she narrowed her eyes and leaned inward. “Oh wait, I think you have something right there.”

“Huh?” I swiped at my cheek.

“No, there,” she said, pointing to the right side of my face. I swiped that side as she moved in so close her lips grazed mine. I froze, waiting for her to wipe whatever it was away and give me a kiss, but then she moved back and swiped the ball out of my hand. She hustled toward the goal with a smooth layup.

“Three–four. Gotta get that defense up, honey,” she sang.

“Oh wow! A distraction, I see!” I couldn’t help feeling both stupid and proud. “That never would’ve happened on a real court! Let me see that ball.”

She passed the rock to me, and this time I didn’t wait for her to come up. I lifted on my toes and aimed for the goal. It hit the rim but tipped over and dropped through the net.

“Deke!” she shouted with a breathy laugh.

“What?” I smirked. “It was only right. Five–three. That’s game, D.”

“I hope you don’t cheat like that on the court.”

“Never,” I said, draping an arm over her shoulder.

“I guess you won.” She looked up at me as we walked toward the gate. “Looks like I’ll be seeing you at one of your games, then.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

My heart pumped faster, not only from the match we played but also from knowing I’d see her again after the weekend was over. Maybe I was wrong, and this wasn’t a one-and-done thing. Maybe she was realizing that, just like me, she wanted more.

Before we left the court, I faced her and clasped her face in my hands. She kissed me back and moaned as I bumped her back until her backside hit the gate.

As if we both had the same thing on our minds, she reached for my shorts and pushed them down. I went for her leggings, helping her step out of one of the legs before tucking my forearm beneath one of her thighs. The gate creaked as our weight pressed against it, and I wasted no time sliding into her.

I’d had sex in many places and in many ways, but never on a court—never like this. This woman made me feel invincible. She made me whole every time I was inside her, and every time I held her—like all the worries, all the problems, all the guilt, and all the shame were washed away by her presence alone.

If only she knew how I felt.

If only she knew I’d give her the world if she let me.