Block Shot (Hoops #2)(107)

“I’m just saying that’s a different lens to look at it through, and it changes your perspective.”

“You do know that I’m the older brother, and am by all rights, the one who should be doling out sage advice.”

“Age ain’t nothing but a number.”

“Please let Aaliyah rest in peace.”

“I will if you will.”

“That doesn’t make sense.

“Does it have to?”

“August, what?” I laugh because we’ve been having these pointless conversations most of my life and always when I need them.

“But does it?” He looks like he’s pondering life’s most important questions instead of some bullshit rabbit trail he’s using to take my mind off this mess I’m in with Banner and Zo.

Thankfully, before I can answer, because who knows where that would take us, Susan, Iris, and my father join us in the den. Iris walks over and tucks under August’s arm, looping her arms around his waist. My dad takes his usual seat in the recliner, and Susan sits on his knee. They hold hands and the same tiny diamond he gave her twenty years ago still captures the light and manages to be blinding if it hits you in the eye just right.

“Where’s Sarai?” August asks, dropping a kiss on Iris’ hair.

“Torturing some stranger with a billion questions.” Iris shrugs. “I was just too glad it wasn’t me for five minutes. I’m pretty sure it was one of your cousins, though.”

“You’re pretty sure? So our daughter may be gagged and kidnapped by now, is what you’re saying?”

“Definitely gagged,” I say, making everyone laugh. “If they take her, believe me they’ll bring her back.”

Iris reaches over and punches my arm.

“You know it’s true,” I tell her, chuckling.

“Only I can talk about her that way.” Iris mock glares at me. “Even if she did ask me to sing the ‘Star-Spangled Banner’ backward today. That’s normal, right?”

“I saw her,” Susan interjects. “It was one of your cousins and her little girl. What Sarai needs is a little brother or sister.”

“I’m ready,” Iris says, widening her eyes meaningfully at August. “Your son is the holdup.”

“You say you’re ready,” August replies, pushing the fall of dark hair away from her face. “Then you’re complaining that you can’t go to the conferences you want. Or run up to the LA office and do this or do that. We have time. We’re young. There’s no rush. Do everything you want to do.”

“I want to have a baby,” she says, stretching up on her toes to reach his cheek nearly a foot above her. “And do all of those things, too.”

She looks over at me and her smile dims a little.

“A really smart woman once said I should be unafraid to want it all,” she says, smiling and searching my face for a clue to what is up with Banner and me. I’m sure August will fill her in since, apparently, they tell each other everything.

He’s so whipped.

I remember Banner saying that at the Denver conference. That she wanted to be the best in her field and have the husband and four kids. She wants it all, and God help anyone who tries to tell her she can’t have it.

Shit. Four kids? Even one like Sarai would drive me out of my mind.

Why is she so Catholic?

What if Banner has those four kids with someone else? What if she ends up with Zo? With some other guy? A better guy?

I leave the room abruptly, suddenly feeling ill surrounded by couples who have the next fifty years all figured out. I haven’t seen the woman I want in six weeks, and she’s sleeping under the same roof with a guy who is madly in love with her. So in love he forgave her for fucking me. And dammit all if I wouldn’t do the same because Banners don’t just grow on trees. They burned the mold when they made her. I know. In ten years, I haven’t found anyone even close, and now that I have a second chance, it feels like I’m losing her again. This Stella won’t cut it. I need a real drink because if I think August is whipped, feeling this way, what am I?





35





Banner





Jared feathers kisses down my back, licking between the fine-boned links of my vertebrae. Barely there touches that tease my skin and whisper over my nerve endings. When he reaches the satin edge of my panties, he tugs them down with his teeth and presses his open mouth over the curves of my ass, suctioning the generous flesh into his mouth and moaning as he marks me. I match him moan for moan as my knees are wrenched apart and cool air hits me where I’m hot and wet between my legs.

I’m on all fours, my face buried in a pillow catching the guttural noises tumbling out of me. A heavy hand caresses my back, long fingers winding into the hair at the base of my neck. He spreads my cheeks, exposing me. I’m unprepared for the wet heat of his mouth at my puckered entrance. It feels too good for me to allow self-consciousness to interfere. Oh, no. I press back into the soft lips and greedy tongue lapping at me. He holds me in place when I squirm and takes his fill.

Pleasure curls around my spine, tightening and lengthening like a coil until the onslaught of sensations make me spring. It hits me like the morning surf, lifting me so high that I crest and soar and meet the sun. Then I crash, panting for air as the water washes over me, sure that I’m drowning.