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Kendall
Getting blownout in the conference championship game was not a good feeling.
I mean, to have only been one win away from the Super Bowl coming off a massive comeback in the divisional round, and then not have enough gas left in the tank to actually make it happen?
Yeah, that shit sucked.
Like,for real.
But even for as disappointing as it was to lose, I wasn’t anywhere near as heartbroken as I’d felt after last year’s playoff game; especially once I was able to take a step back and really reflect on my first full season as the Houston Skyhawks starting quarterback.
I’d fought to keep my spot, and my team had finished the year with a winning record.
I’d gotten a playoff win under my belt, the first in a long time for the franchise.
I’d made it through the season without suffering any major injuries.
And even beyond just the on-the-field shit, there was so much I’d been able to accomplish off of it too.
From being able to give back to my community, to putting my sister through her second year of school, to the shit with Shakira’s dad that might’ve been my greatest feat yet since he’d actually followed through on getting the help he needed. And then,of course, I’d also found the damn love of my life, the fact that I’d met Shakira just as the season was about to begin and then spent the full duration of it falling in love with her fine ass automatically making this year the most special one yet since she’d been right there with me every step of the way.
I never knew just how much of a difference it could make to have a supportive partner when dealing with the highs and lows of a season, the highs and lows of life. But now that I was hip, I planned on doing everything in my power to make sure Shakira always knew I had her back the same way she had mine. And in today’s case, that meant entertaining her idea for us to do one of her Savage X Fenty photo shoots together, the silky ass pajama pants and the matching black robe she had me in courtesy of RiRi’s team lowkey fly even though I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to be doing.
I mean, I’d shot with brands before; done promo shoots with the Skyhawks and all that.
But being on some sexy shit in front of the camera was a little different.
And for that reason, I let Shakira get her solo shots out of the way first so that I could get some inspiration, watching her do what she did best in the black mesh teddy she had on only making me want to buy her more of the lingerie that she got for free just because of how well she was selling that shit.
“Got damn, Shake,” I groaned from behind the lights, Shakira smirking in response even as her eyes remained focused on the photographer. And the more she moved through her semi-erotic poses, the more I forgot I was supposed to be taking notes, completely distracted by the time the photographer insisted she was ready for me to join.
Doing my best to shake off the trance my woman had me in, I made my way onto the makeshift set they’d created in a hotel suite, Shakira taking it upon herself to fix my robe while I told her, “Got me out here on stiff in front of strangers cause you wanna act up.”
Giggling, Shakira licked her glossed lips and responded, “In the words of a QB out of UT, I had to show out a little bit for my special guest.”
“Oh, that’s what it is?”
“Mmhmm,” she smirked. “We’re on my turf now.”
“Well, show me how it’s done then, Shake,” I challenged, smirking right back as I grabbed a handful of her ass to pull her closer. And that was all the photographer needed to see to decide she was going to give us minimal directions and instead just let us do our thing, making it easier for me to relax into it as I let Shakira lead us through poses that were really the same shit we did all the time.
Me kissing on her neck.
Her running her fingertips against my tattoos.
Me holding her lovingly from behind in front of a mirror.
Her looking fine as fuck with me just watching her be fine.
Then Shakira suggested we try a few poses on the bed, my back rested against the headboard while Shakira straddled my lap in a way that I already knew had her ass looking right and had me staring at her thinking about hittin’ that shit from the back when she said, “Kendall, you’ve gotta stop lookin’ at me like that if we’re gonna make it through this photo shoot.”
“Lookin’ at you like what?”
“You know the look,” she suggested. “It’s the same one that got us in trouble on the internet.”
Thinking back to that picture and the response it got after it was shared on social media without our permission, I honestly would’ve never guessed that this was where Shakira and I would be six months later. But now, I could truly say I was appreciative of the candid moment that had led us to each other -and had people assuming we were either already fucking or about to fuck- the actual truth behind the way I was looking at her that night making it easy for me to tell her, “Nah, this ain’t the same look. Back then, I was just tryna see what was up wit’ you. But right now, it means exactly what they thought all along.”
“Kendall!”
