Chapter 12
By the time Maurice returned to the hotel, his anger had subsided somewhat. Now he was just disappointed. He'd known that he had blown his chances with Kenya, and not just for tonight, but for forever.
However, he wasn't going to apologize for decking that photographer. Even if he weren't a Super Bowl champion, he deserved some privacy. Besides, he didn't want Kenya hearing from anyone that Lauryn had left him for another woman. He didn't plan on telling her, not right away, anyhow. Especially since she thought he was trying to avoid being seen with her. If Maurice won Kenya's heart again, he'd shout it from every mountain top and put it up on a billboard on the busiest street in Charlotte and in the middle of Times Square. It just wasn't time yet.
Stepping on the elevator, Maurice headed for Kenya's door. Once he got there, he stood there, fist poised to knock, but he didn't. What could he say to her tonight that wouldn't fuel her anger or seem as if he was just trolling for booty? He turned on his heels to leave but stopped when he heard the door open.
“You were just going to walk away?” Kenya asked. “I saw you through the peephole and wondered, When has Maurice Goings ever been a coward? You can't face me or something?”
She was still dressed in the outfit she'd worn to dinner. Maurice smiled halfheartedly. “I figured you needed your space, tonight, anyway.”
“You scare me,” she revealed. “Then again, I guess violence is a part of your job and life.”
Leaning against the wall, Maurice shook his head. “You make it sound like I'm a contract killer.”
Kenya opened the door wider and beckoned him inside. “It isn't like football is ballet. You hit people. You make headlines because you can take linemen out.”
“I'd never hit you,” he said.
“Supposed to be a selling point or something?” she asked as she took a seat on the bed. “You're not supposed to hit anyone, at least off the field.”
“And I don't. I mean, as long as . . . I should just stop,” he said when he noticed the suspicious look in her eyes.
“What are we doing?” she asked. “Why are we trying to relive the past when it should just die?” She crossed her legs and stared up at him while he grasped the edge of the dresser. “Maurice, maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was me wanting to live out some sort of fantasy of having sex with you and then leaving, as if you never meant anything to me. But everything I said at dinner was wrong and . . .”
Maurice crossed over to her and sat in front of her, holding her hands down on the bed. “I knew that wasn't you talking, and I know one thing. I can't change the past, but we can build a future, if you give me a chance.”
Her eyes misted, and Maurice immediately wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her tears away. Kenya slid her hands from underneath his and pushed him away.
“Maybe love isn't for me. I mean, I have a lot of work to do in Charlotte with the new office, and it's all going to fall on my shoulders, success or failure. The last thing I need is to be emotionally entangled with you again,” Kenya spat in rapid-fire fashion. Each word stung Maurice like a bullet, that is, until he read between the lines.
Kenya still loved him. Otherwise, she would've been able to ignore what had happened on the beach. She wouldn't be sitting there, with tears in her eyes. That nugget of hope was all he needed to spur him to kiss her, tenderly at first. Then his urgent hunger heated the kiss.
To his delight and surprise, Kenya responded, slipping her tongue inside his mouth as he did the same. Drawing her into his arms, Maurice lifted her shirt and palmed her taut breasts. With his thumbs, he stroked her nipples back and forth until they were as hard as diamonds. Breaking off the kiss, Maurice asked her if she was all right. She gave a silent answer by removing her shirt all the way. He held her out at arm's length and marveled at her body. This was the Kenya he remembered. Despite her new body, she was still a little timid when it came to making love. But Maurice could barely contain his excitement to see the rest of her as he fumbled with the button and zipper of her shorts.
Kenya grabbed his hands and moved them to her hips. “Slow down,” she whispered. “I'm not going anywhere.”
He kicked out of his shorts as Kenya unbuttoned his shirt. His thick erection nearly sprang out of his boxer shorts when she kissed him down the center of his chest. Leaning forward, Maurice took Kenya's legs and wrapped them around his waist. Her breasts pressed against his chest, making him harder by the moment.
Kenya's lips brushed across his neck as she inched up to his ear, kissing and sucking on his lobe. With one hand, she stroked the back of his neck, and with the other, she stroked his manhood, almost bringing him to a climax. He moaned gutturally, unable to express his desire in words, as Kenya closed her thighs around him, drawing him closer to her burning mound of desire. He reached between her legs, using his finger to touch her wetness, and, boy, was she wet.
“You feel so good,” he whispered before kicking out of his boxers. “I don't want to have sex with you, Kenya. I want to make love to you.”
Thrusting her pelvis against his, she said, “You don't love me. Don't talk. Just give me what I want, and take what you need.” She ground her body against his.
Though he could barely contain his desire to bury himself inside her, Maurice pulled back. “I need your love, and I know you love me, Kenya. Say it.”
“I-I . . .” Her voice trailed off; tears pooled in her eyes. “Maurice, please.”
“You love me, and I need to hear you say it,” he pleaded. “I can't make love to you unless I know that this isn't meaningless sex.”
Unfurling herself from him, Kenya stared at him. Her eyes flashed angrily. “Did you love Lauryn when you . . . This isn't what I wanted. Why do you want me to say it?”
“I need to know. Do you love me?”
Turning away from him, she whispered, “I love you, and I hate myself for it.” She sat up, easing herself to the edge of the bed. “I should've gotten over you after I left for Atlanta, but I couldn't. I was weak and . . .”
Maurice placed his hand on the small of her back. “You're not weak, because I feel the same way. I've never loved anyone the way I loved you.”
She turned and faced him; a deep frown creased her face. “You said you loved Lauryn. You chose her over me and did it so that everybody could see. Do you know how that made me feel?” A single tear fell from her eye, speeding down her cheek before Maurice could wipe it away.
He held her face between his hands. “That was the biggest mistake of my life. You loved me unconditionally, and I took it for granted, allowed my hormones to think for me, but I'm not that guy anymore.”
“I don't want to get hurt again, Maurice,” she said. “I don't want to have to wonder if another woman, with a better body or a special trick in bed, is going to come by and seduce you again. I won't let you hurt me again.” Reaching for the rumpled blanket on the bed, she covered her nudity.
“Kenya,” he said, his lips close to hers. “I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to let anyone or anything come between us again. All I want to do is love you again.”
She melted in his arms and silently sobbed on his shoulder. Her hot tears seemed to seep though his soul. It was as if she was cleansing both of them. They needed this; they needed to get their feelings out in the open. Now that he knew she loved him and she knew he loved her, Maurice couldn't wait to express it physically. Leaning back on the bed, he pulled Kenya on top of him, stripping her blanket away.
He gave her naked body the once-over; she was beautiful all over. With her lying before him, he thought about being on his honeymoon, with Kenya as his bride. Leaning in, he kissed her neck, then used his tongue to blaze a trail down to her breasts. He stopped to kiss and suck her nipples as they hardened at his touch.
He slid his hand down her flat stomach and between her thighs, feeling her wetness on the folds of flesh holding her pleasure. Maurice grew hungry for her, wanting to taste her desire. Easing down the length of her torso with his lips and tongue, Maurice planted his face between her legs and, with his tongue, pushed back the tender skin that held her throbbing clitoris.
Kenya inhaled sharply as he wrapped his tongue around her tender bud. Her legs and her stomach trembled as he deepened his kiss. Intense sensations of pleasure rippled though her body like rain falling into a quiet pond. Clutching the back of his neck, Kenya pressed her body against his mouth, silently urging him to give her more. He responded by kissing her harder, flicking his tongue across her sensitive bud until she came like a tidal wave. Her body burned as the orgasm washed over her. She opened her eyes and looked down at the smile on his face. It was as if her pleasure was bringing him joy.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Unable to speak, she just nodded, then gripped his shoulders, urging him to continue with his sensual body kiss. It didn't take much prodding for Maurice to continue treating Kenya's body like dinner. Placing her legs on his shoulders, he left a sweet trail of kisses on her inner thighs, and with his finger, he entered her, discovering her to be nearly virgin tight. Maurice couldn't help but wonder when a man had last touched her and made her moan as he was doing.
An unexpected feeling of jealousy blanketed him as he thought about Kenya making love to another. She was his, and tonight, he was going to brand her with his love. With his free hand, he reached for his shorts, grabbed his wallet, then removed the condom.
Turning her head to the side, Kenya watched as he placed the package on the side of the bed. Seeing the shiny gold wrapper made it real. There'd be no turning back. How many nights had she dreamed of feeling the length of him inside her, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper into her valley. Kenya reached for the condom, then said, “I want you inside of me.” She held it out to him. Her eyes screamed for him to make love to her immediately, and he was happy to oblige.
Maurice ripped the wrapper open and slid the latex sheath in place as Kenya stared at his dangling erection. As he turned to her, she grabbed his shaft, guiding him to where she needed him most. Her moans were like music to his ears. Kenya ground her body against his as she pulled him deeper and deeper inside. Within minutes, she felt as if she was going to explode. Maurice found her G-spot and the rhythm of her heartbeat, and they began to dance to it.
“I love you,” she said in a whisper, which she thought Maurice didn't even hear. Kenya twisted her hips like a Moroccan dancer as Maurice dove deeper and deeper inside her. The heat from her womanly core spread across her body. Even her cheeks became flushed. When Maurice reached up and stroked her nipples with his thumbs, she could no longer contain herself. She climaxed and screamed his name so loudly that she was sure everyone on the floor heard her. But she didn't care. Never had she felt so satisfied, so womanly, so loved.
Wait a minute,
she thought.
An orgasm doesn't mean love. This is crazy. I'm professing my love to this man because he made me come?
Part of her wanted to throw his arms from around her and order him out of the room. Instead, Kenya lay in Maurice's arms and accepted the tender kiss he placed on her forehead as he twirled his finger around a tendril of hair above her ear. She didn't want to ruin the afterglow of their lovemaking, but she couldn't help but wonder if he'd held Lauryn this way, kissed her tenderly, and slept against her breasts. How insecure would he think that she was if she asked those questions? But as he lay there, they gnawed at her. Kenya moved his arm from across her chest.
“What's wrong?” Maurice asked.
“I can't breath,” she said as she sat up. Kenya pushed her hair back from her forehead and turned her back to him.
“Do I need to call someone? The hotel doctor?” His voice was peppered with concern as he placed his hand on the center of her back.
Kenya recoiled at his touch, as if he'd burned her skin. Quickly, she rose from the bed and stormed into the bathroom.
“Did I do something wrong?” Maurice called out. “Kenya, what's the matter?”
“This was a mistake,” she said to the bathroom door. “What the hell was I thinking?” Kenya locked the door just seconds before she heard the springs of the bed move. She figured that Maurice was crossing over to the bathroom door. Seconds later, the doorknob twisted.
“Aw, Kenya, open the door. What's this all about?”
“Me making the biggest mistake of my life. That's what it's about.” She slapped her hand against her forehead and silently thanked God that he hadn't heard her when she'd said she loved him the second time. “Maurice, please leave.”
“Open the door and face me, or I'm going to break the door down.” His tone was serious. “If I did something to hurt you, tell me.”
Kenya fought the tears pooling in her eyes. If only she would have closed her mind to the past and just focused on the moment. Then she wouldn't be locked up in the bathroom, analyzing what should've been a beautiful reunion. They wouldn't have needed a reunion if it hadn't been for such an ugly breakup.
“I'm counting to ten,” Maurice said.
“You can't threaten me to open the door,” Kenya snapped.
“One.”
“Maurice, just go. We both got what we wanted.”
“You know I wanted more than a roll in the sack with you. I told you that. Two.”
“Over the years you've told me a lot of things. Made promises that you didn't keep. So, what makes this time different?”