Chapter 4 #2
I had to laugh. “You’re definitely not the streets.
You know what I mean. Not to tell his business, but he’s in one of those .
. . stereotypical family situations. He made it out the hood.
He’s the only one in the entire family that has money.
They lean on him for everything financial.
Blah. Blah. Blah. When he found out about the opportunity for the endorsement, he was floating on cloud nine.
He thought it was the perfect fit for him, because he thinks music and dancing are his things.
” I rolled my eyes at the memory of Preston.
“You know he likes to make all those TikTok videos. Anyway, the meeting was a couple of days after that video of him leaving that club all drunk and belligerent surfaced.” I eyed him.
“The company decided to go with another player. You know? I think he kicks the field goals.”
I smirked.
“Apparently, Preston didn’t take the news that he lost the deal well. I mean, he really could’ve used that money. And not only did he not get the deal, but it went to the person he hates the most.”
“Dayum. He hates me the most, huh?”
I sucked my teeth. “He really dislikes you, Kaynaan. Anyway, losing that opportunity threw him into a tailspin. He was just . . . grief-stricken. He practically cried. And he would whine to anybody who would listen. At one point, his mother reached out to me. She went on and on about how she hoped I had something big planned for his upcoming birthday because he needed to be cheered up. As far as I was concerned, Preston and I were just having fun. I was planning to take him to Ruth’s Chris or something, and that was about it.
But his mother was so persistent, and he was falling deeper and deeper into his funk.
When he started talking about wanting a threesome with me and somebody else for his birthday present, I honestly thought it was the depression talking. ”
He jumped in right there. “He asked you for a threesome under the guise of it being a birthday present?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit.”
“I didn’t take him seriously. I decided to give him a party.” I huffed out a sigh. “I should’ve said no to the threesome, wished him well, and chucked the deuces.”
“What you did for dude—trying to celebrate him and cheer him up—that tells me that you’re compassionate and that you care about the people in your inner circle. You have a good heart, Brown Eyes.”
I scoffed. “There’s a thin line between having a good heart and being a damn fool. Women are always exposing their good hearts to no-good niggas. I practically cleared out my savings, and Preston wasn’t impressed. In his heart of hearts, he really just wanted a threesome.”
It was his turn to scoff. “That motherfucka is young, rich, and moderately well-known. He’s had hundreds of threesomes. You weren’t gonna be his first one, sweetheart.”
It wasn’t that I was surprised by that news; I just had never framed it that way in my mind. “Wow. Maybe his fantasy wasn’t necessarily a threesome. Maybe that’s why he kept stressing how much he wanted to watch me eat old girl out. Maybe his fantasy was my face in some chick’s coochie.”
“Wait.” Kaynaan’s hands were on his head. “This nigga told you that he wanted to watch you eat pussy?”
“Yes! And I never did anything to give him the impression that I was into women. And he picked out the girl. Brought her to the hotel and everything.”
He shook his head.
“Talkin’ ’bout, ‘you’re so buttoned up, Wynnie. You’re so straight-laced, Wynnie.’” I mimicked his voice. “Trying to convince me to eat coochie and calling me Wynnie. My name is Wyndi, you dumb bastard.”
He sniggered. “So, don’t ever call you Wynnie?”
“No, please don’t. That’s not my name.”
“Is Wyndi your real name?”
“Damn, we’re going from one traumatizing situation to another.”
“What? How is me asking you if Wyndi is your real name traumatizing?”
“Because now I’m gonna have to tell you my real name.”
“Your real name is traumatizing?”
“Yes!”
“Okay, now I have to hear it. What’s your real name, Wyndi?”
“The thing is . . .” I sighed. “Is that none of my names on their own is bad or traumatizing. It’s the fact that my momma put that particular combination together that’s traumatizing.” I took a deep breath.
“You’re dramatic as hell.” He chuckled.
I waved him off dismissively. “My first name is Wyndsor.”
“Wyndsor,” he repeated.
“Right. And that’s not bad. There’s nothing wrong with Wyndsor. I mean, it might sound more, I don’t know, masculine to some. But it’s not bad.”
“It’s kinda formal. Sounds like something aristocratic Caucasians were naming their kids.”
“Right?” I agreed. “Anyway, the problem comes in when you put Wyndsor with my last name, and we’re not gonna even discuss putting either my first or last names with my middle name.
Because my mother was clearly still mourning her failed marriage when she named me.
My last name is Castle. I’m Wyndsor Castle, like the palace that the Queen of England used to live in. ”
“Oh sh—wow.” He caught himself. “Okay. Wow. Is Castle your father’s last name?”
“Yeah, she gave me his last name. I mean, they were married. It was her last name too. It still is. She never went back to her maiden name or anything. She wanted us to have the same last name.”
“And you said that your middle name makes it worse?”
“So much worse.”
“Hit me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Kaynaan, if I tell you this, you can never repeat it. Hold up your hand.”
“Damn, I gotta be on my Boy Scout promise to hear your middle name?”
“Yes. Now, hold up your hand.”
He raised it obediently.
“Say, I promise never to repeat.”
“I promise never to repeat.”
“What Wyndi is about to tell me.”
“What Wyndi is about to tell me.”
I momentarily covered my face with my hands. When I took them down, I said, “My middle name is Fairy.”
“Fairy?” His expression was one of confusion. “Was your mother a teenager when she had you?”
The way the laughter tumbled out of my mouth caused me to snort. That set Kaynaan off, too.
“No, my mother was not a teenager when she had me,” I said when I was finally able to regain control of myself.
His hands went up in surrender. “Look, I was just asking. It’s not every day that you hear of somebody named Fairy.”
“I know. That’s so bad. Wyndsor Fairy Castle. Sounds like a place, not a person.”
“I like it.”
I shook my head. “You don’t.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I like you.”
“You say sweet things.” Since I was in his arms, I tilted my head back and puckered my lips so he could give me a quick kiss. Except that wasn’t what he did.
He pressed his lips to mine with purpose. His tongue found its way inside my mouth and probed mine. I melted into the way his hands instinctually found the most sensitive areas on my body to touch and glide over.
He broke the kiss to ask, “This okay?”
“Best date ever.” I moaned against his lips.
“Can I take this off?” His fingers were at the hem on my sleep shirt.
“Uh-huh,” I intoned as I helped him lift my top and toss it away. I wasn’t wearing a bra. Craving skin-to-skin contact, I pressed myself forward so that our chests touched.
He laid me down, my back flat against the mattress as he positioned himself between my legs, kissing me deeply and reverently.
My fingers traveled over the muscular ridges and bumps of his body.
The evidence of his arousal rubbed against the seat of my sleep shorts, causing friction that was both torturous and tantalizing.
I shouldn’t be so horny, I thought to myself. But there I was, panting and on fire at the thought of Kaynaan penetrating me with what I could feel was a very sizable piece of equipment.
“Can I take these shorts off?” His question was able to make its way through the lust-induced fog that clouded my head and my better judgment.
“Yes, and get a condom,” I instructed. I had spent the summer fucking on his rival teammate, and now I was about to fuck him. I just hoped that since I was out here acting like a slut that he made sure to slut me out the way I deserved.