Somebody's Gotta Be on Top

by Mary B. Morrison

  “You okay, ba?” Wellington asked, rubbing her back.

  “I’m fine. I was just thinking I’m so lucky to have you as my husband. I love you. I appreciate you,” Jada said, rolling over to gaze into Wellington’s eyes.

  “I love you too, ba. With all my heart. Always.” Wellington kissed her moist eyelids.

  Jada braced herself on her elbow. “Wellington, do you think Darius and Ashlee are having sex?”

  “It’s hard to tell. But even if they’re not, they’re thinking about it. And that’s not good.”

  “So should we confront Darius?”

  “No, he’s grown and so is Ashlee.”

  “But you just said it wasn’t right.”

  “Ba, it’s not.”

  “I disagree.” Jada exhaled. “I think we should talk to both of them. Together.”

  “Let’s not do any more talking. Leave them alone.” Wellington kissed Jada on her breasts.

  “See, now you’re being bad. Simone said she was dropping little Wellington off in an hour, remember?”

  Jada had been relieved when Wellington dropped his lawsuit for full custody of his four-year-old-son. When Jada married Wellington, Simone stopped allowing Wellington to see his son. Each time Wellington filed for custody, Simone would generously grant Wellington visitation. Every weekend. Chasing a kid around the house, planning her weekends, every weekend, around a child’s schedule was a major inconvenience for Jada.

  Wellington would play with his son for a couple of hours, then return home before dinner. Jada didn’t mind that he was gone. She had a problem with catering to little Wellington for hours, and listening to the child repeat Wellington’s last words before Wellington walked out the door. “Daddy be back.” Jada was happier now that they only had Wellington’s son every other weekend.

  “You know how much strokin’ I can do in an hour,” Wellington said, spreading Jada’s thighs.

  Jada closed her legs in protest. “We don’t have time.”

  “You know you want it. Don’t act like you don’t. You gon’ mess around and miss out on your foreplay ‘cause I’m gon’ get mine.”

  Jada opened her legs wide. Wellington kissed her clit. His tongue danced in circles. “That’s feels nice. Stay right there for a moment,” Jada said, holding his head. Her juices trickled. Jada inhaled deeply and held her breath for five seconds, then exhaled through her mouth. Again. Again. Each time she exhaled more juices flowed.

  Wellington braced himself on his knees, pushed Jada’s knees to her shoulders, and slipped the head of his penis inside. Then the shaft. Lightly he stroked while massaging Jada’s moist clit in circular motions with his fingers. The Ruler penetrated, generating small orgasms inside and outside Jada’s pussy. He stroked softly almost all the way in but not quite. His other hand squeezed her nipple. Harder. Harder. All three rhythms were in motion.

  Jada screamed with pleasure. “Let me get on top.”

  “You know you don’t know how to get off of this dick once you’re on top.”

  “I promise baby. Please. Just a few minutes. That’s all.”

  “A few minutes?”

  “Yes, I promise. Wellington, lay down for me.”

  Wellington smiled then stretched on his back. Jada mounted him.

  “Don’t hurt me, ba.”

  Jada positioned Wellington’s dick at her opening and eased down. Up and down. Her hips rotated in a circular motion. Slowly Jada teased her deep spot and ground her pelvis deeper into Wellington’s each time her hips rolled forward.

  “Ms. Good Pussy. Could you squeeze a little harder please?” Wellington said, holding Jada’s hips.

  “Like that?”

  Wellington shivered. “Aw, yes.”

  “How about that?” Jada tightened her muscles again.

  “Yes, yes,” Wellington moaned. “Ms. Good Pussy. Could you make your booty clap for daddy? And squeeze just a wee bit harder.”

  Jada bounced and tightened her vaginal muscles at the same time.

  “Oh, shit. Ba, I’m about to cum.”

  “Well, cum on. Don’t keep mama waitin’.” Jada rolled her pelvis forward then folded her waist backward. Again. Again.

  “Aw yes. Yes,” Wellington moaned.

  “See, I told you I’d only be a few minutes.” Jada eased off of Wellington and lay beside him.

  “Ms. Good Pussy, your pussy sure is good. You can ride this dick anytime. I mean anytime. I’ll even put my mama on mute,” Wellington said. His limp body didn’t move.

  Funny how one word had changed Jada’s mood. Mama. Jada didn’t want to think about her mama, at the moment. “You’d better get up and shower. You’ve got ten minutes. You know how punctual Simone is. She’s probably sitting outside in her car watching the clock.”

  Jada followed Wellington into the dual shower. His nine shower heads were on one side and her nine were on the other.

  “Ba, when was the last time we took a vacation together?” Wellington asked.

  “Last year sometime.”

  “When last year?” Wellington asked, rubbing soap on Jada’s breasts.

  “Valentine’s Day I think.” Jada placed Wellington’s hand on his chest. “Or maybe it was Easter. I’m not sure.”

  “We’ve been working so hard we haven’t taken time to get away.” Wellington slid his fingers between Jada’s thighs.

  “I’ll plan a trip for us soon, if you hurry and take your shower. You know that woman is outside. How about New Year’s week in Paris?” Jada asked.

  “It’s a good thing you can’t have any more children,” Wellington said stroking himself.

  “You got that right,” Jada said. “Speaking of kids, the doorbell is ringing, he’s here.” To avoid saying our son to Wellington, Jada found other ways not to claim little Wellington as hers. She didn’t want to confuse the child with acknowledging several sets of parents. Simone seemed happier since her recent engagement which meant that soon, Wellington would have to deal with another man spending more time with his son than him. Jada would support anything Wellington wanted, except full custody. No way. Jada was through with raising kids.

  Wellington quickly dressed, closed the bedroom door, and went to let Simone and little Wellington in. Jada cracked the door and eavesdropped until her cell phone rang, distracting her.

  Locking the door, Jada whispered, “Hi, Theo.”

  “Hey, babydoll. Got some bad news for you. Theo will make it quick. Got things to do. Ciara was cleared of involuntary vehicular manslaughter of one of her ex-boyfriends eight years ago in between her marriages. Rumor has it, the accident wasn’t her fault.”

  “What? Theo, you can’t be serious!”

  “Wish I weren’t, babydoll. The records are sealed. But Theo will find out the details.”

  “Vehicular manslaughter? Ciara is a murderer? Oh, my God. I’ve got to get her away from Darius.” Jada lowered the phone away from her ear when she thought she’d heard little hands twisting the locked knob.

  “Ms. Diamond. Can I come in?” The twisting continued throughout little Wellington’s words. “Please.”

  “Just a minute baby. I’m getting dressed. Where’s your daddy?” Jada sat on the edge of their unmade bed staring at the wall. She whispered into the receiver, “Ciara is a murderer.” How would Jada tell Wellington? Darius?

  “Babydoll, Theo’s got to run. I’ll be in touch. Peace.” Theo was gone.

  Why had Ciara killed someone? Why was Ciara chasing Darius? The thought of losing Darius resurfaced. Jada cried, “Lord, please don’t let anything happen to my baby.”

  The dial tone interrupted Jada’s thoughts. Then she heard the knob twisting again. “Ms. Diamond, you dressed yet? I wanna show you my new Leap Frog. I can read, Ms. Diamond. Please let me in.”

  Where was Wellington? Jada slipped into her sweats and unlocked the door.

  CHAPTER 29

  Ciara accepted Darius’s advice and vacationed for a week, in Paris, with Allen. Elated their property sett
lement was finally official, Ciara had settled for a third instead of half of their assets. She agreed to let Allen have their home in Paris. The remaining properties around the world were hers, which meant Allen got a larger percentage of the stocks. Ciara owned the restaurants. Allen owned the gas stations. In three to five years, Ciara’s attorney advised, Ciara could lose more than she’d gain as Darius’s wife. Soon she’d divorce Darius. But not before wreaking havoc on Darius’s womanizing playboy lifestyle.

  Darius was smooth. But he wasn’t slick. And if he weren’t careful, he’d end up a statistic. Just like Gary. Poor Gary. Ciara had warned him to leave her alone. Stop harassing her. But no, Gary was stupid enough to tell Ciara if he couldn’t have her, no one would. That was shortly before Gary’s last trip down the back roads of South America. Rio. Ciara had no remorse. Committing manslaughter was like dating Gary, an accident. Ciara didn’t mean to kill Gary, she wanted to frighten him into leaving her alone, but Gary died instantly.

  Ciara decided she had enough money of her own not to continue playing charades with Darius Jones. She wasn’t desperate, blind, or ignorant. Now that Ciara was back at home, she faced the facts. Ciara knew Darius was fucking Ashlee. To complicate matters for Darius, Ashlee had to find someplace else to live because Ciara was surprisingly moving into Darius’s house. The phone interrupted Ciara’s thoughts.

  “Yes, what time will the delivery persons get here?” Ciara paused. “Between one and five. Okay, thanks.”

  Monica sat on the sofa watching Ciara. “Sis, I think you’re losing it. Why are you buying a house full of new furniture and having it delivered to Darius’s address?”

  “Because I’m his wife. That’s why.”

  Monica’s eyes bucked, neck stretched, head turned, all at once. “His what! I dared you to date, not marry him. You didn’t mention anything about marriage.”

  “Well, after I finalized my divorce with Allen, I married Darius. When we went to Las Vegas, I thought, why not? He’s my business partner. At least this way I have easier access to the files.”

  “Ciara, you can’t be serious! Please tell me this is a joke.”

  Ciara’s vision blurred into the television until she no longer saw or heard the morning news.

  “I thought the two of you were just dating. Since when did you start keeping secrets from me? Monica,” Monica’s hand rested flat above her breasts. “Your sister.”

  “I’m not. I just hadn’t told you. Yet. The marriage was so impromptu it didn’t seem real to me. I guess having money has made me do dumb things.”

  “Impromptu my ass. Men don’t just all of a sudden decide to get married, Ciara. Darius has a motive. And why the furniture?” Monica asked.

  “I’m tired of him having full access to my home and office but maintaining his privacy at his home and office. Especially after you caught him snooping in my safe. So I’m moving in with him. Today. So I can go through all of his shit while he’s busy traveling out of town with Ashlee.”

  “Okay, this is too much. Let’s rethink this.”

  “There’s nothing to rethink or think about. Oh, yeah. Just so you’ll know. I settled for a third of the assets with Allen. That equates to approximately ten million dollars.”

  “One third? Ciara, you deserved half. Allen barely had a pot to piss in when you married him. You worked hard to support Allen’s dreams.”

  “Sis, I know you love me. But let’s face it. Allen worked harder. Plus, I just wanted out and another few million dollars wasn’t worth hanging in there for. Allen wanted to make sure he had more than me. And that’s okay. It’s only money. I can’t take it with me.”

  Monica frowned. “Sis, I don’t know who you are anymore. I’m serious.”

  “I’m your baby sister. And I’m still the same person.” Ciara raced to the ringing handset she’d left on the mantel. “You’ll be there within the hour. Good. I’ll be waiting.”

  Ciara looked at Monica. “Wanna go?”

  Shaking her head, Monica sighed heavily. “I think I’ll pass on this adventure. I have my own issues.”

  “What issues? Sis, I’m sorry. I’ve been so caught up. Tell me.” Ciara sat on the edge of the sofa next to Monica.

  “Nothing that can’t wait.” Monica nudged Ciara. “Go. We’ll talk later.”

  Ciara hugged Monica and handed her the remote. “I’ll be back. We can talk tonight. I’ll pick up dinner.”

  Ciara drove to Darius’s house and waited in his driveway for the movers. Policing Darius’s bedroom window for any kind of movement, Ciara thought: What if Darius was fucking Ashlee? Or Kimberly? Or whomever? Forget waiting. Ciara rang the doorbell repeatedly.

  Ashlee answered. “Hi, Ciara. Darius isn’t here. He’s working.”

  “What you need to do is stop lying for Darius. I know he stayed out all night.” Ciara bypassed Ashlee. “I’ll wait for him.” Ciara stretched her legs across the sofa so Ashlee would have to sit elsewhere. Ashlee chose the white leather chair. “Ashlee, what’s really going on between you and Darius?”

  “Nothing. I was wondering the same about you. He’s my brother.”

  “Your brother?”

  “Well, kind of. My dad was married to his mom for ten years.”

  Ciara thought about all the questions Ashlee had asked of her at the grand opening in Oakland. And how when Darius had said Ashlee was his sister, Ciara didn’t believe him. Ciara walked to the front door when she heard a loud humming engine stop and a gush of air release from the truck’s brakes. The delivery persons lifted the rear white metal door.

  Ciara yelled, “Cancel my order!”

  “Miss, we can’t just cancel your order.”

  Ciara reached for the clipboard and signed the invoice. “Then leave everything in the driveway.”

  On her way home, Ciara picked up two orders of gumbo from M&Ms restaurant.

  Monica was lounging, practically in the same position, snacking on grapes. “That was quick.”

  “I changed my mind. You’re right. The last thing I need to do is move in with Darius. I’d probably end up shooting him. With a baby on the way, I have a lot more important things to do.”

  Monica shook her head then whispered, “A baby?”

  Ciara set the dining table and waited for Monica to join her. “Enough about me. Tell me, what’s your issues?”

  Monica hesitated. White rice soaked in filé dripped from the spoon, splashing into the large brown soup bowl. “I was tired of not having a relationship. So I’ve been seeing someone. You’ve been so busy you haven’t noticed. And, well, I want you to meet her.”

  Ciara snapped her crab leg in two and frowned. Her? Did Monica say, her? Her like a friend, or her like a lover? Ciara thought she was prepared to deal with Monica’s issue but she wasn’t. They’d both detoured from what their mother had taught them. Ciara had to stop Monica from dooming herself to hell. Ciara did not, could not, and would not respond.

  “It’s not what you think,” Monica said, stirring her spoon. “She’s my new friend. Mama raised us so close that, when you became consumed, obsessed, whatever with Darius, I had no one to listen to me. And I realized I had no one who needed me to listen. We’re too close.”

  Layers of salty tears shielded Ciara’s vision. Her chest grew tighter with every heartbeat. “Monica, how can you say that? You know that’s not true.”

  Monica stopped stirring her food. “How long we gon’ keep holding secrets? Why don’t we, the two of us together, tell Mama and Daddy what happened?”

  Ciara stared at Monica. “No. You promised, we wouldn’t tell. I’m not going to do it.”

  “See, that’s what I mean. We’re too close.” Monica reached into the Prada purse Ciara had given her. “Here’s your house keys. If I come over, I’ll call first.”

  CHAPTER 30

  The time had come to talk divorce. Darius had gotten all he envisioned and more from Ciara. Access to her business. Great sex. Ciara’s tight pussy now snapped to his rhythmic strokes. D
arius introduced Ciara to what had become one of his favorite treats. Anal sex. And more. The movie was in production. Going well. Seventy-five percent complete. Kevin brought in new business so frequently, Darius couldn’t fire him. If Darius stayed incarcerated in phony matrimony, eventually he’d lose more than Ciara.

  Raindrops tapped on his bedroom window. Darius closed the blinds, showered, then knocked on Ashlee’s door.

  “Ashlee, you awake?”

  “I am now. Come in.” Ashlee snuggled under the covers, looked up at Darius and said, “What’s wrong? You look rather down.”

  Darius cracked a half smile. “Nothing that time won’t resolve. You wanna go to brunch this morning?”

  “No, thanks. I have plans. Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’m moving out next weekend.”

  Darius frowned. His lungs deflated and his mouth hung open. “Moving out? Why? Where?”

  “I think it’s time. Besides, you need your space. I have no right to be jealous but sometimes I am. Sometimes I even get upset. Like the time Kimberly was here and Ciara barged in then passed out. That was too much. Listening to you talk on the phone about the women in your life is one thing. Living with you and seeing so many different ones pass through your revolving bedroom door, brother or no brother, is wrong. It’s horrible how you treat women. You can’t possibly love all of them. And there’s no way you can possibly love me.”

  “Ashlee, you’re wrong. You’re the only one I trust. Can depend on. You’re my friend. And I do love you. Very much. Stay. I’ll stop having women over.” Who in the hell spoke those words? Darius scratched his thigh. “You don’t have to answer me now. Just think about it. I seriously want you to stay.”