Page 27 of Intentional Foul (The Complexity of Love #2)

A click sounded from behind, signaling that he’d unbuckled his seat belt. I leaned my head back on Malcolm’s arm, and he kissed my lips.

“Does he ever get tired of sex?” I questioned after our lips separated.

“Hell nawl,” Marquise answered, and Malcolm chuckled.

He reached over the seat and tapped my shoulder. “Let’s go, Jhae. You’re my wingman.”

My eyes toggled over to Malcolm as he continued to snicker.

Entering the cute boutique, I vibed with the aesthetic of the store.

The wall colors weren’t your traditional white; they were more shades of brown.

There was a nice rug and couch in the middle of the store with large mirrors near the dressing room.

A few girls had given Marquise their attention with their snickering. I selected a red two-piece because I knew red was Malcolm’s favorite color.

“Jhaeeeeeeeeeeee.”

I whipped my body around to find two college-aged women squealing from across the room. Before I could wave, they were running full force in my direction.

“I told you that was Jhae,” someone voiced.

Malcolm and Marquise shifted to the side as the various aged women crowded my space. Questions were coming at me full force.

“You know, ‘Timeless Love’ is my jam. I listened to it so much my boyfriend knows the lyrics,” she said as she swayed her head, mumbling the words.

“Your album helped me get over my cheating ass boyfriend,” the young lady with the cropped hairstyle said from behind her.

“Pleasssse, take a picture with me. Pleassseee,” each of the four women pleaded.

One by one, they stepped to the side, angling their cameras. One girl shoved the phone in Malcolm’s hand for a group photo with girls she didn’t know.

“Thank you, Jhae. I see you with your twin boyfriends,” the lady with the cropped hair said.

I twisted to Malcolm and Marquise who appeared to be enjoying not being the center of attention. Malcolm pretended to be his brother most days because he hated the press. Marquise leaned into social media, posting thirst trap photos. Today, however, they were reduced to my boyfriends.

“And they’re fine,” she said.

Marquise slid his hand around my waist. “Baby, let’s get back to our shopping spree. We have a jet to catch.”

He kissed my temple, and I shifted my head upward with hiked nostrils. Squeals released from the girls as their eyes widened as if they discovered a secret.

“Y’all heard the man. Spend his money, Jhae,” another young lady said.

I elbowed Marquise in the side as the crowd dispersed. “Will you stop playing so much?” I said and he cackled, releasing me from his hold.

Malcolm covered his mouth as his chest vibrated with laughter.

“Jhae, I need to be on the album,” Marquise said yet again.

Throughout the entire flight to St. Thomas, he tried stringing together words for his new rap career.

I thought the smell of the water and seeing the palm trees would stop him from rapping.

Instead, he tried adding them to his failed lyrics.

I protruded my bottom lip at Malcolm to make Marquise stop.

He couldn’t stop laughing at his brother.

“Aye. Aye. Aye...” Marquise chimed up again.

“Please stop it. I’ll let you do the intro,” I belted, hoping this would get us some relief. Marquise wasn’t going to stop until I gave him something, no different from his twin.

“Awww, shit... Let me add a music career to my resume.”

I leaned into Malcolm’s chest more, hiding my face. He caressed my back, leaning down to kiss me but I shied away.

“We’re almost at the private resort. No pictures are allowed, and it’s strictly enforced. From what I researched, celebrities come to unwind here, and they have great hospitality. It’s owned by the Harrison Inc., and he doesn’t play that shit,” he said.

Being a celebrity grind my gears, but it also came with the territory.

Living your dreams and a life of luxury wasn’t free, and no one escaped paying the tab.

Privacy and the ability to make mistakes was the price tag that I paid every day.

You can’t post this, can’t support that; I learned early to shut up, sing, and shield my personal life.

When my phone vibrated, I reached into my pocket to see “bestie.” I sent her to voicemail but quickly followed up with a text message.

Me

Helpppp me! Marquise is trying to rap.

Bestie

Why? He barely has rhythm.

Me

I caved, gave him an intro.

Bestie

Whyyyyyy. Hell no. I’m not living with his ego.

Me

Too late, he is planning an album.

“I think I need to be on the album cover,” Marquise said confidently from the back seat.

“NO!” Malcolm and I said in unison without bothering to turn around.

“I’ll settle for a music video.”

I peered up at Malcolm, but he wasn’t smiling or amused. His jawline stood firm, and he wouldn’t give me his eyes.

Bestie

Are you okay, Jhae? Are we okay?

I danced my thumb over the letters, unsure of how to answer. With Anissa being in the dark, yes, everything was okay, but once her flashlight shined, that would end.

“Answer her,” Malcolm demanded.

Me

Yes. Sorry, I was a little flighty. In album mode.

Bestie

Call me when you get back in town. Kal and I need to ask you something.

The van pulled in front of the suites. As we climbed out, I knew Malcolm and I were not okay. He didn’t try to hide his irritation with me.

“I booked you across from us, Marquise,” he said, and they slapped hands. “Bro, what’s wrong with you?” Marquise asked Malcolm.

They spoke in a language or some sort of code I’d never heard before. It sounded something like gibberish to me. Anissa told me they did this a lot when she first adopted them as kids. Marquise peered over at me and nodded at his brother.

“I’m right here,” I said with folded arms.

Malcolm’s intense eyes found me. “Jhae, go into suite three. I’ll bring the bags,” he said.

I tilted my head to the side at his answer. Malcolm passed me the key, and I stared at his hand as if it were covered with algae.

“Jhae!” he said, and I crossed my arms, challenging his authority.

“I’ll help the driver,” Marquise offered, leaving us alone.

Malcolm kissed my cheek before migrating to my ear. “Jhae, take yo fine ass into the suite. I’m not going to ask again, beautiful,” he said, placing the key in my back pocket.

“Malcolm. . .”

“I didn’t ask for commentary,” he interrupted.

Steam erupted from my ears as I marched off toward the tan painted building.

I almost broke a damn nail, ramming the key in the door.

Entering the room, I paced as I replayed the conversation between us.

My body sent me mixed signals with being angry but aroused.

Malcolm had never used a hard tone with me and meant what he said.

Being enraged and turned on, I couldn’t focus on the private walkout pool and view of the ocean.

After ten minutes, the door opened to Malcolm and Marquise, bringing our bags.

“Dinner,” Malcolm said to his brother, and they smacked hands.

As soon as the door closed, I marched up to Malcolm. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that again,” I said.

Malcolm remained calm as he stared down at me. “Jhae, we had an agreement. Don’t ignore my mother,” he said.

I tossed my hands in the air. “Malcolm, I didn’t ignore her, I texted.”

“Check your tone. Don’t play semantics with me, Jhae. Why are you creating problems where there are none?” he said.

“Check my tone?” I questioned with a slanted head. “You need to come to terms with what’s going on. Anissa is not going to accept this. The sooner you accept that, the better,” I said.

Malcolm pulled me to him by my arm and kissed me hard. With hunger, I opened my mouth, begging for a taste of his tongue. I put his hands to my neck, begging for aggression, but he wouldn’t grip me. Pulling away, I tried reading his eyes, but I couldn’t get a feel for his mood.

“Take off your shorts,” he instructed.

I unzipped my cargo shorts, allowing them to drop. Malcolm pulled me to him, bending me over the table. The thought of him punishing me hardened my nipples. He ripped my panties off and smacked my right ass cheek.

“Jhae, do you talk to me in that tone?” he asked.

“No,” I moaned.

“Do you talk back to me?” he demanded an answer.

Malcolm smacked the same ass cheek with more heat and my body trembled.

“No, baby, I’m sorry,” I belted out in pleasure.

My inner thighs were on the verge of being covered with my juices. Malcolm jolted my body backward, brushing his hard dick. He stepped away and spanked me again.

“How many times do I need to ask you to do something, Jhae?” he asked.

With my forehead touching the table, I fought the orgasm waiting to erupt.

“Once,” I said.

I heard the zipper of his jeans move downward. He gripped my sore ass cheek.

“Wrong answer. You better learn my body language. I’m not much of a talker,” he said.

Malcolm pulled my body from the table, turning me around to face him.

My chest heaved with anticipation as he lifted me onto the hard surface.

He slid my body to him entering me seconds after.

A satisfied breath exited my mouth as he moved in and out of my pussy.

I moved to grip him but he paused giving me an intense expression.

“Hands on the table. I didn’t give you the okay to touch me.”

I examined the seriousness of his hard facial features including his tight brows and crinkled nose. Lowering my hands I gripped the edge of the table.

“Keep them there,” he said and I gave a light smirk.

He stroked me again and I tightened my hold on the rim of the table. I threw my head back as he pounded me, the table hitting the wall repeatedly echoed through the room. If I was a guest next door, I would’ve been pissed.

“You wanted rough. Watch your fucking mouth when you talk to me, Jhae,” he roared as he fucked me aggressively.

With each stroke, I released on his dick.

“Yessss, baby, fuck me. I’m sorry,” I stammered as I was engulfed in my pleasure.

Malcolm gripped my neck giving it a light squeeze and my body trembled as cum flowed.

“Right behind you,” he grunted as he released inside me.

I rested on the table, panting. “Let me introduce myself as your husband. Don’t play with me, Mrs. Jhae Shaw-Jefferies. Take your fine ass into the bathroom and get cleaned up. I ordered your massage, manicure, and pedicure. You’ve got thirty minutes.”

I smiled as I yielded to his command.