Never Again Once More (26 page)

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Authors: Mary B. Morrison

BOOK: Never Again Once More
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Chapter 37
L
ove was the only game where every single player held a trump card. And one just never knew when their partner would reveal the Big Joker. The odds of hitting a multimillion-dollar lottery with a one-dollar ticket were easier than winning at the game of love.
Wellington cruised along the freeway and exited into Danville. Junior was visiting with Simone’s mom, so this was a convenient time to break the news. He wanted to tell Simone in her own home for several reasons. If she became upset enough to break something, it would be her property. If she couldn’t think straight, she wouldn’t get into a car accident. And he could leave when he was ready, without worrying about having to put Simone out of his house.
Walking up to the door, Wellington rang Simone’s doorbell three quick times so she’d know it was him.
Simone stood in the doorway wearing silver thigh-high satin shorts and a matching camisole. “Hey, baby. Come on in. This is a pleasant surprise. Junior is at my mom’s.” Simone flicked her tongue like she was teasing the sensitive spot on the head of his penis.
“So what are you up to?” Wellington walked in and sniffed twice.
Closing the door, Simone said, “You know me. Just cooking and cleaning.”
Simone’s place was always immaculate, and Wellington appreciated whenever she volunteered to tidy his. “Um. Smells good. What’s cooking?”
“Seafood jambalaya. And I’m also going to steam some Dungeness crab legs. It’ll be ready in a minute. I’ll be right back,” Simone said, dashing toward her bedroom.
Damn, he was going to miss Simone’s meals. Sitting on the oversized couch, Wellington thumbed through the photo album. “Ha!” Junior’s face looked as if he’d seen a giraffe after he backed into a goat at the petting zoo. Wellington laughed so hard that day; Junior ran to Simone crying.
Maxwell’s song “Lifetime” started playing as Simone danced her way into the room. The scent of Angel perfume lured him into the mood. With each melody Simone moved a little closer. Turning around, she bent over, peeped at him between her thighs, and spread her cheeks. Facing him, Simone removed her satin shorts and held them under his nose. Wellington took the shorts from Simone and whiffed so hard the material suctioned into his nostrils. Then she removed her top and gently buffed his little head. All that remained were clear, high-heeled slip-ons with the fuzzy tops. Running her index finger inside her vagina, she slowly fed him.
This was not supposed to happen. Simone coaxed Wellington to her bedroom. The last time he’d tried to be macho and carry Simone, he’d ended up with a slipped disc.
“Wait, let me turn off the stove.” Simone returned so quickly he was in the same position.
Laying her across the comforter, Wellington sucked her toes. Slowly his tongue traveled up her leg, her thigh, and gently teased her clit. Bringing Simone to the edge of orgasm, he slapped her on the ass. On her knees, Simone braced herself at the edge of the bed. Doggie-style, Wellington slowly penetrated her walls, gliding deeper and deeper while he alternated spanking Simone’s ass.
“Yes, Daddy. That’s how Mama likes it. I’m cumming with you, Daddy. Go ahead and knock that first one out the way so we can really get it on.”
Knowing there would be no second round ever again, Wellington released everything he had to offer. Collapsing beside Simone, he said, “Damn. Woman, you are too much.”
Simone went to the bathroom and returned with a smoking-hot wet towel. Cleaning him off, she asked, “Is everything okay? Why’d you stop?”
“Yeah, give me minute.” Wellington rubbed his head.
“Just seems like you’re tensed. Almost like you forced that orgasm out.” Simone tried reviving The Ruler, but he only shriveled up more.
She knew him too well. He might as well tell the truth, because lying would truly complicate matters. “Diamond asked me to marry her.”
The towel smacked against his privates like silly putty sticking to the wall.
“Ouch! Got damn, Simone. What did you do that for?” Wellington covered his dick just in case.
“How could you make love to me without telling me this first! And what did you tell her?”
Wellington inhaled oxygen as he spoke. “I said, yes.”
Simone straddled Wellington and started punching him in the chest. “I hate you! I hate you!”
Grabbing her wrists, Wellington said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you. You know this.”
“Fuck you, Wellington Jones. And fuck that Hollywood whore! I hate her ass, too!” Simone jerked, but couldn’t break Wellington’s grip.
Wellington rolled Simone onto her side and held her close. Simone started beating on his back. “Stop, Simone. Stop this shit right now!”
Simone rolled on her stomach, the tears flowing uncontrollably. Wellington couldn’t express the hurt he felt because he truly loved Simone. But Simone wasn’t Diamond. His chest ached, so he massaged it.
Simone whispered, “Get out,” and it sounded like something straight out of
The Exorcist.
She didn’t have to tell him twice. Wellington half dressed, grabbed his keys, and headed to the front door, buttoning his shirt. Simone’s sobs escorted him. He slapped himself upside the head, sat in his car, and stared at Simone’s bedroom window. When Simone’s mom pulled up behind him, Wellington drove off, pretending he hadn’t seen or heard her toot the horn.
Wellington knew he shouldn’t have been intimate with Simone; but his selfish manhood was weak, and he wanted to hold his woman one last time. There was no doubt in his mind that he preferred Jada. Jada hurt Lawrence. He failed Simone. All in the name of love so two bleeding hearts could run together.
Wellington cruised along the freeway.
Bam!
A car slammed into the rear of his Bentley. “What the fuck!” Looking in his mirror, he saw Simone, so he stepped on the pedal, weaving between eighteen-wheelers, school buses, and cars to lose her; but she stayed right on his tail. Finally, he exited before crossing the San Mateo Bridge because she’d probably knock his car into the water.
He hurried out of his car and raced to Simone’s car door before she could get out. Simone shoved her door, knocking him down. Getting up in a continued motion like a professional ice skater, Wellington said, “Simone, you’ve got to stop this.”
“Wellington, do you take me for a fool? Am I supposed to roll over and play dead? What about our son? This isn’t some shit you just spring on me! Let me introduce you to my Virgo personality.”
When Simone popped her trunk, Wellington jumped in his car, fired up the engine, hooked a U-turn, and made it across the bridge in five minutes tops, toll fee paid and all.
As Wellington entered his home, his phone rang. Before answering, he keyed in his security code. Checking the caller ID, he saw Jada’s name. Trying to catch his breath, he said, “Hi. Ba.”
“Are you okay? You were on my mind, so I called.”
Panting, Wellington said, “I just told Simone about our plans.” He massaged his chest.
“Why are you breathing so hard? How’d she take it?”
“You mean before or after she kicked my ass.” Wellington walked onto his patio and sat by the pool. His doorbell rang repeatedly.
“How do you feel?” Jada asked.
“Awful. She didn’t deserve that, and she intends to prove it.” Wellington tapped his fingers on the glass table. “She’s ringing my bell right now.”
“I understand how she feels. I felt the same way when I found out about Melanie. Are you having second thoughts about us?”
“No, ba. Not at all. I just hate seeing Simone so upset. Look, let me call you later.”
“I’m here if you want to talk,” Jada said.
“Thanks.” Wellington hung up the phone with an, “I love you,” and walked to the door.
Simone was marching back and forth. He figured she’d tire eventually, and he didn’t want to call the police on her because they would probably arrest him. Wellington went upstairs to his bedroom and watched rerun DVDs of
The Bernie Mack Show
so he could laugh the hurt away.
Chapter 38
T
he Fifteenth Annual Cultural Festival had arrived the week after finalizing her divorce. Not having Darius at the event created a void that even Wellington couldn’t fill, but Jada was glad he’d accompanied her to New York. Jazzmyne had been right. After the demotion, Darius had quit and everyone else had stayed with her company.
Jada kneeled beside her hotel bed and gave thanks to God, not only for the conference, but also for Wellington. She prayed for Lawrence and Simone. A special prayer was sent up for Ginger, Miranda, Heather, Zen, and Maxine. Knowing that through Christ, all things are possible, Jada asked God to watch over Darius and keep him safe. No one knew her sweetie’s whereabouts, nor had he called. Refusing to press the situation, Jada had declined Theo’s assistance to locate her son.
Their headquartered hotel was packed with participants, as well as the other lodging establishments around the city, in New Jersey, and in neighboring boroughs. Jada dialed Zen’s room extension. “Hi, meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.”
Heather had left her room earlier to confirm the setup for her clients in Greenwich Village. Ginger and Miranda were in Brooklyn and Queens doing the same. Jada stepped into a crowded elevator. More attendees knew her than she knew them, so whenever someone greeted her by name, Jada shook their hand, asked who they were, where they were from, and thanked them for participating.
During the limo ride with Zen over to Madison Square Garden, Jada smiled. “I almost forgot how much energy I feel when I’m in New York. I’m so excited I hope the majority of the people we see are heading to our conference or one of our events.”
“As soon as this conference is over, I’ll be taking a vacation. I might go away for ten days.” Zen laughed.
When they approached Penn Station, lots of people were making their way over to the Garden. “We can get out here,” Jada told the driver. “I’ll call you on your cellular when I need you.”
Making her way up the escalator, through the crowd, and up to the podium on stage, Jada began precisely at nine o’clock. “Good morning, and thanks for coming. I am simply the catalyst; make no mistake, this festival is successful because of your hard work and contributions. Your sponsorship dollars will enable Black Diamonds to help create fifty new small businesses in your communities. Your sponsorship dollars will help prevent over one hundred small businesses from closing in your communities. Your sponsorship dollars will create grants for new and viable programs for homeless shelters, boys and girls clubs, staff training for small businesses, childcare for working single parents, and so much more. This year Darius Henry Jones had landed a fifty-million-dollar collective commitment from the top commercial financial institutions. Under the Community Reinvestment Act these institutions by law must reinvest in their communities. We’re happy to have their long-term support and commitments and I’m pleased to say each of the bank presidents have joined us today. Everyone in this room is a winner. I know you’re anxious to hear the recipients for outstanding achievements and best practices, so without further ado, I present to you your mistress of ceremony and Black Diamonds’ new vice president, Zen Chin.
The audience gave Zen a standing welcome. Jada exited backstage through the curtains and made certain everything was in place. Ginger, Miranda, and Heather had arrived and were already on top of things. Jazzmyne’s publicity techniques brought more local residents than usual and plenty of local entrepreneurs.
The top award went to Ginger’s client. Darius, Zen, Miranda, and Heather’s clients placed in order second through fifth. Too bad Darius wasn’t there to present his award. The day was long, and the week was longer; but everyone pulled together, and the Fifteenth Annual Cultural Festival surpassed the previous ones, largely in part to Darius’s broader vision. Chris Tucker, Paul Rodriguez, and Margaret Cho kept folks laughing for days. At the closing banquet Friday night, Jada presented each of her staff with personalized plaques to show her appreciation for their contributions.
Before departing Manhattan, Jada visited Shandolon in Jersey, thanked her for the shea butter, and asked if she had something new. The tropical scents reminded her of Lawrence, and she didn’t want to revert to her chocolate-flavored cocoa butter lite oil. Shandolon promised she’d create an exclusive shea butter fragrance—sweet with a hint of spice that no man would resist—and name it Forgiveness.
“Honey, not that you need amnesty, but when you wear this potion, he’ll forgive you for the things you haven’t even done yet.” Shandolon raised her hand to a high five.
Wow! Jada never imagined having a scent produced with her in mind, but that was a fantastic idea.
Jada laughed as she browsed the store. “I’ve looked everywhere for
Promises to Keep
by Gloria Mallette and
She Touched My Soul
by Naleighna Kai. Every bookstore I’ve been to can’t keep them on the shelf.”
“Well, your search is over because my reorders arrived right before you walked in.” Shandolon disappeared into a back room and returned, placed the novels in a tote bag, and gave it to Jada. “Consider this an expression of my appreciation of your support.”
Heading back to her hotel room, Jada realized she’d missed her appointment for a much needed massage. Like their first date in Carmel, Wellington decided to lodge in an adjacent room. They agreed that sexual intimacy would take place after their ceremony, but Jada packed her entertainment DVD movie in case Wellington changed his mind.

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