Blowing out a deep breath, I brought the products and my little stool over to where Synder sat, then plopped down. Lifting his large foot from the steaming, scented water, I secretly admired his foot. It was nicely soft, and his toes were well taken care of. He didn’t even need a pedicure.
Glancing up at him, his eyes met mine. Biting back the comment on my lips, I reached for foot scrub and applied it to his foot. I was aware that he watched me like a hawk. Once I had it thoroughly clean, I dipped his foot again, then brought it back out of the water. I placed his foot on my lap, reached for some moisturizing cream, and deeply massaged his tissue.
“Shit,” he mumbled.
Peeping up to see his face, his head was leaned back on the couch. As my fingers worked his muscles and tendons, his headleaned from side to side. His teeth sank into his bottom lip as he stifled a deep groan. One of his hands gripped the front of the black joggers he wore. My eyes bugged at his dick print there.
Before I could think another thought, his hand slipped inside his joggers. My fingers slipped, but I swallowed and continued massaging him while being enthralled by him touching himself.
“Mm… I’m hard as fuck,” he groaned. “Ya hands feel so fuckin’ good, my baby.”
My heartrate sped up as he removed his dick from his joggers. Gawking at the length and girth of him, my hands stumbled again. He didn’t stroke himself or anything. He simply held his dick in his hand while I massaged his foot. As I finished his first foot and shifted to the other, he started moaning again. My ears would burn forever at his sexy sounds. Just as a dollop of moisture seeped from his tip, he moved his hand to grip himself a little harder.
Regardless of me giving Synder the silent treatment, I was now in love with bringing him pleasure. Synder turned a simple moment into a moment that would last forever with me.
CHAPTER 18
SYNDER
Iwokeuptothe sound of my phone ringing. Glancing down, I grimaced at seeing my dick in my hand. My dick was still hard as hell and there was no sign of Sienna.
“Yeah,” I answered my agent’s call.
“You gotta pay that nigga’s dental bill,” Houston stated without so much as a greeting. From the moment I decided to go pro, I knew The McQueen Firm was who I wanted to represent me. They aligned with my values, and if need be, they got in the field with me. Like now, this shit with Aaron Perdue had finally made its rounds.
“Fuck that nigga,” I grumbled. “See if he can talk with half his teeth missin’.”
Houston chuckled. “Aye, I’m on ya side,bébé. I need you to lay low ‘til this shit dies down. I’ve already talked to Bears upper management. For now, they’ve agreed to keep it off the court.”
“Yeah, aight,” I replied.
“I’m sendin’ you the receipt for his dental bill,” he added.
Mugging the phone, I said, “Yeah,” then hung up.
Aaron had better be glad I let him walk away with his life. A row of missing teeth was better than a casket. Speaking of caskets, Sienna was trying to send me to an early grave. Her silence was louder than Madison Square Garden during a championship game.
If I hadn’t slept under her, my ass wouldn’t have gotten any sleep, and that was the best sleep I’d had since the day I was drafted. After some thought, I realized that I couldn’t be mad at Sienna. I’d never had anyone who wanted to protect me—not my parents, not my sister, and certainly not a woman. The only person I could ever count on was Legend. If I called, without question, he was coming.
Glancing around, there was still no sign of Sienna. Everything she’d used to do our pedicures and Whimsy’s manicure was gone. She’d cleaned up while I was knocked out. My feet never felt so good, relaxed, and soft. She’d put socks on me and everything. I slept through it all.
Standing, I stretched, then made my way to Whim’s room. At the door, I paused. The door was partially open. Seinna and Whims were in the middle of the carpeted floor coloring. They both laid on their stomachs with their feet kicked up. They giggled at something Sienna said under her breath.
Whims was just a girl who deserved everything she wanted in life. She was growing so quickly, and I did everything in my power to ensure I saw every move my baby made. The picture ofher bonding with Sienna was too much like foreshadowing our future. This was what I wanted to come home to.
The sound of my phone ringing alerted them that I was eavesdropping. Sienna glanced over her shoulder to look at me. Something laid in her eyes, the same eyes that skirted down my body to rest where my dick was behind my joggers. She turned away and went back to drawing.
Reaching inside my pocket, I produced my phone and glanced at the number on the screen. I didn’t recognize it, but I answered the call anyway.
“Sneaux,” I answered.
“You got me fucked up, Syn! How dare you let that ho take pictures with my baby! This is the last straw—”
I hung up on Courtland and blocked this number just like I’d done her other number. She got blocked because of the text messages she’d been sending me since pictures of me, Sienna, and Whims started circulating. She was terribly angry about a picture of Whims and Sienna sitting with Santa that some random muhfucka posted on the internet.
Honestly, I had full custody of Whims. Wasn’t a soul about to dictate who I had her around or any of that shit. As long as Sienna treated my baby good, I was all for the relationship they were building.
By the time dinner rolled around, Sienna was still ignoring my ass. This time, she set up an elaborate setting for me and Whims to enjoy dinner. It was holiday-themed, with tomato basil soup, cheesy croissants, homemade pizza, and salad. For dessert, she made us decadent chocolate cake with Grinch green frosting and strawberry toppings. One thing was for sure; Sienna could cook and bake her ass off. She waited on us, served us, and did it all with a smile. Still, she didn’t say shit to me.
