Page 47 of Intentional Foul
Chapter Eight
Pulling the Strings
Jhae
I’m not sure if I ever met the real Malcolm. I knew him to be more timid, quiet but sweet, but this version of him stood as the complete opposite. Since the All-Star game, he’s been trying to assert dominance over me. It’s as if he flipped a switch and he expected me to adapt to the change and blindly hop on board.
“This is our bedroom,” Malcolm said as I stood in the doorway.
His view of downtown L.A. rivaled mine. The floor-to-ceiling windows lent to the sophistication of his space. I wandered a few additional steps to capture the full view and stood by the black suede couch. The dark hardwood floors, black low-profile bed with the brown linens, and dark painted walls gave a modern touch. It’s not my personal style. I prefer pink and shades of cream.
“Your room is beautiful, but I can’t stay here with you, Malcolm.”
He walked toward me, but I stepped backward with each step he took. I knew what he was going to do, and I knew I wouldn’tstop him. Realizing we were playing cat and mouse, he paused his steps.
“Jhae, come to me,” he requested.
My eyes traveled toward the door and then back to him. “I can beat you to the door, especially with those shoes,” he said.
I knew he was telling the truth, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Turning toward the door, I sprinted, only to find myself wrapped in his arms. He kissed my ear, and my body heated with lust and desire.
“Damn, you are sexy, running in heels. I believe you’re getting off on me chasing you,” he said.
Malcolm rotated me to face the bed. “This is our temporary marital bed. I kept your side of the closet empty. There is a vanity and shoe rack for those thousands of heels you can run in,” he said.
With my chest to his back, I rolled my eyes. As sweet as he was to me, I needed to find a way to get out of this marriage. If he was anybody else, things would be different, but the fact remained, Anissa was his mother.
“I’m not sleeping or doing anything else in our marital bed,” I said, but he laughed.
More kisses landed on my neck and ear. I leaned my head away, but it didn’t steer me from his lips. The wetness of his lips touching my skin flamed the fire I tried to mask.
“It’s still early. Would you prefer to go out and get Thai food?” he said.
I wiggled out of his weak hold of me and faced him. “You think you know me,” I said.
“I do know you,” he said.
I raised my hands again. “Malcolm...”
“You’re not getting a divorce or annulment out of me, but Thai food, I can order,” he interrupted.
I swallowed, the anger wanting to erupt within me. “Fine, I’m going to Anissa,” I said.
Side-stepping him, I attempted to leave, but he caught me by my waist.
“I’m okay with telling Mom about us. It may be better to rip the band aid off. This could help your transition to Mrs. Shaw-Jefferies move faster. Let’s call her,” he said.
The sound of the ringing phone snatched the air out of my lungs.
“Malcolm, when did you get back?” Anissa’s soft, caring tone voiced.
I fought to get out of his grip but made no headway. “Me, Jhae and Marquise came back together. Jhae had some issues in her condo. She is going to bunk with us for a few days.”
I punched his arm.
“Do not put her anywhere near Marquise. I still have nightmares of bunny ears,” she said.
“Malcolm,” I said between gritted teeth.
