Read Never Again Once More Online
Authors: Mary B. Morrison
Never Again Once More (8 page)
Once seated, they ordered two strawberry lemonades, then Lawrence asked, “How do you feel about love at first sight?”
Jada rested her vision on his long, thick fingers—hopefully a good sign of what he packed in storage. She studied the tips, base, and middle sections. There was a direct correlation between the shape of a man’s fingers and his penis.
“I used to believe in love. Now I’m a firm believer in happiness. Love comes and goes, but I can be happy forever if I choose. It’s all in my attitude.” Jada opened both of her hands.
“Okay. Then, I’ll admit. I was happy as a kid on Christmas Day when you stood next to me.” Lawrence laughed.
Of all the holidays in the year, why did he have to mention Christmas? Damn, his sex appeal divided her attention, so Jada eased on her sunglasses. Lawrence’s mannerisms were fluent, suave, and inviting, three positive signs of an experienced lover. Not to mention his kissable lips that always displayed a hint of moisture. “Why? You don’t know anything about me.” Jada stared out over the Pacific to calm her out-of-control hormones which were yelling, “Charge!” A group of youngsters trotted onto the beach. The tall redhead wearing a yellow bikini carried the volleyball.
“Oh, on the contrary. I can tell you’re a loving mother. You work out. You eat right or at a minimum, well. You dress impeccably. Your lavender bodysuit matches your shoes, and your purple wrap has highlights that match your top.
Most
importantly, you’re well groomed. Manicure. Pedicure. Your anatomy is delightful, and you have long, silky hair that I’d love to—”
Most
importantly, you’re well groomed. Manicure. Pedicure. Your anatomy is delightful, and you have long, silky hair that I’d love to—”
“Yeah, but those are external qualities—”
“But it’s a great place to start,” Lawrence said.
The waitress interrupted, “Excuse me. Are you ready to order?” Lawrence gestured toward Jada.
Jada looked up at the waitress and said, “I’ll have the crab Louie.”
Lawrence said, “Make that two;” then he smiled at Jada.
“So tell me about Lawrence.”
“Okay. We can focus on me if you prefer.”
Jada learned Lawrence was going through a divorce. He claimed his biggest mistake was marrying a woman who needed more time than he had to offer. He had thought if he bought his wife the home of her choice, lavished her with expensive gifts, and gave her full access to a six-figure joint bank account, that would adequately supplement the small amount of time he spent with her. According to Lawrence’s side of the story, in the beginning Ashley had been the perfect wife. Later she’d begun nitpicking about every little thing: “How late are you working tonight? Why won’t you be home for dinner? Where are you going? When will you be back? Who else is going?”
Raising an eyebrow, Jada made a mental note. She nodded, interjecting an occasional, “I see,” or “um hum.” She listened intently, knowing it was best, especially when dealing with lawyers. The well-tanned redhead on the beach had just spiked the ball. It bounced off the blocker’s arms and landed in the ocean.
Lawrence continued.
He
figured it was time for them to have a child.
He
felt that should have been perfect, too. But it still wasn’t enough for Ashley.
He
even named their daughter Ashlee in honor of his soon-to-be ex-wife. In the gospel according to Lawrence, that seemed to have made matters worse. When Ashley firmly stated she wanted out of their marriage, Lawrence said he thought she was kidding, saying, “What woman in her right mind would walk away from a good man?” With his hectic schedule, Lawrence admitted, no judge would grant him custody of Ashlee unless he called in a favor, and that wouldn’t be to either of their advantage because he’d finally admitted he was a workaholic. The shocker had come when Ashley told him they were moving to Texas after Ashlee graduated from kindergarten.
He
figured it was time for them to have a child.
He
felt that should have been perfect, too. But it still wasn’t enough for Ashley.
He
even named their daughter Ashlee in honor of his soon-to-be ex-wife. In the gospel according to Lawrence, that seemed to have made matters worse. When Ashley firmly stated she wanted out of their marriage, Lawrence said he thought she was kidding, saying, “What woman in her right mind would walk away from a good man?” With his hectic schedule, Lawrence admitted, no judge would grant him custody of Ashlee unless he called in a favor, and that wouldn’t be to either of their advantage because he’d finally admitted he was a workaholic. The shocker had come when Ashley told him they were moving to Texas after Ashlee graduated from kindergarten.
Jada nodded and said, “Behind every challenge there’s an opportunity, if you want it.” Jada told Lawrence about her vision for her company. How she’d ended up branching out on her own because Melanie had become her boss. “Black Diamonds may have never evolved had it not been for Melanie. And I would not be sitting here with such a handsome gentleman.” Fine as hell was what she wanted to say. Snap. Snap. His tinted, lightweight, rimless eyeglasses made Lawrence look even more distinguished. Lady C did a somersault between her thighs, so Jada crossed her feet at the ankles and cheesed. Lunch with Lawrence was Jada’s one-year anniversary of celibacy.
“I know you’re the woman for me. We’re equally yoked. Look, you’re a busy woman. Right? You already have a child. You own your own company. So instantly we have a lot in common. Unlike my first wife, who was exclusively a housewife, you’re a perfect fit.” Earlier he’d vowed never to marry another woman who was incompatible.
“Far from it. Besides, you’re not even divorced,” Jada said, turning to watch the volleyball game. Obviously the redhead was a professional. Every time someone was successful enough to block her serve, instead of the ball crossing back over the net, it landed in the water. Her opponents appeared tired of swimming to get the ball.
The waitress had finally arrived with their order. “Sorry for the delay. Would you like anything else?”
Jada shook her head as Lawrence responded, “No, thanks.” Lawrence reached for Jada’s hand, bowed his head, and said grace. Several moments later he said, “Amen.” He sampled, seasoned, then immediately started eating his salad while picking up the conversation as if they’d never been interrupted.
“Men know these things. We don’t have to spend years deciding whether to marry. It’s like buying shoes.”
Jada redirected her attention toward Lawrence. His goatee reminded her of the one Wellington had recently shaved. Damn, he smelled edible. His navy designer suit wore him well, and his mocha brown complexion heated Jada more than Mother Nature’s golden circle percolating in the sky.
Curiously, Jada asked, “Shoes?”
“Yes. For example, I’m six-foot-five, two-ten, and wear a size fifteen.” Lawrence flashed her that smile again.
If Lady C didn’t stop acting like a 49ers cheerleader at the Super Bowl, Jada was going to need a chastity belt to put her ass on lockdown. Concentrating on Lawrence’s comment, Jada nodded. His size was good, but the feet had fooled her once. Actually, twice.
“Now, a woman will know she wears a size nine, but will ask to try on an eight and a half
and
a nine. They pick men the same way. Always unsure of what they really want. Never in tune with what they need.” Lawrence shook his head. “They buy a pair of high heels knowing their feet are going to hurt. They date a man knowing he has all the traits for warranting four legs instead of two.”
and
a nine. They pick men the same way. Always unsure of what they really want. Never in tune with what they need.” Lawrence shook his head. “They buy a pair of high heels knowing their feet are going to hurt. They date a man knowing he has all the traits for warranting four legs instead of two.”
“Ha, ha, ha. That’s a good one,” said the man seated at the next table.
Two of the kids had resorted to swimming since they were in the water so often.
Lowering his voice, Lawrence said, “Now, you see a man, he’ll buy that comfortable size fifteen every time. Why? Because a man knows what he needs and likes, no ifs, ands, or buts. That’s until a woman convinces him otherwise; then it’s downhill from there. Because then you have two people who don’t know what the hell they want.”
“Brother, I wish I would have overheard this conversation before I got married.” Patting Lawrence’s back, the stranger said, “Good luck, man.”
Ignoring the intruder and staring directly at Lawrence, Jada quietly said, “And your point is?” Maybe they were a good match since he didn’t hesitate to answer this last question.
“Closing argument.” Lawrence smiled seductively. “You are going to be my next wife. I already know. Just like you already know if we’re going to be intimate. The truth.” Lawrence raised one eyebrow and lowered the other simultaneously. “You already know. Don’t you?” Then he ate the last of his salad.
A smirk crossed Jada’s face. Lady C gave her a high five.
“Case dismissed. Pick out your wedding dress. And as far as Darius’s father is concerned, he must have been a
fool
to let you go.”
fool
to let you go.”
Jada sharply responded, “Foolish, maybe. But he’s nobody’s fool.” Jada looked at the waitress. “Check, please.”
After one year of dating—only one month after his divorce was final—Lawrence formally proposed. Jada accepted, but wasn’t ready to set a date. Since well-established men remarried much faster than women of the same caliber, she wasn’t surprised Lawrence was serious. His offer was her opportunity to forget her past. Jada never wanted to feel that pain—the way Wellington had hurt her—ever again. A walking zombie, there had been a time she couldn’t eat, sleep, or think. She’d definitely be happy with Lawrence. How long? That was a question she simply could not answer.
Chapter 9
F
ebruary 14. Relieved Mama had agreed to fly to Los Angeles and baby-sit Darius, Jada moisturized her skin with shea butter. Robert refused to travel on anything that left the ground, so he had stayed in Oakland. Exposing her legs and covering her breasts, Jada eased into her black, brown, and tan leopard dress that stopped midway between her hips and knees. No stockings. Form fitting. Long sleeves. A dab of perfume caressed her ankles, wrists, cleavage, and behind each ear. The three-way mirror cast a gorgeous reflection from every angle.
ebruary 14. Relieved Mama had agreed to fly to Los Angeles and baby-sit Darius, Jada moisturized her skin with shea butter. Robert refused to travel on anything that left the ground, so he had stayed in Oakland. Exposing her legs and covering her breasts, Jada eased into her black, brown, and tan leopard dress that stopped midway between her hips and knees. No stockings. Form fitting. Long sleeves. A dab of perfume caressed her ankles, wrists, cleavage, and behind each ear. The three-way mirror cast a gorgeous reflection from every angle.
When her phone rang at five-thirty that evening, Jada hurried, taking the shortcut, crawling across her bed to answer before Mama or Darius could. “Hello.”
“Hi, ba. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Wellington’s sensuous tone tingled her nerve endings.
Chill bumps covered her butter-smooth skin quicker than microwave popcorn bursting through the hull. “Thanks. Same to you.” Sitting on the edge of her bed, Jada crossed her legs. The eight-by-ten family portrait she’d taken with Wellington and Darius was removed from her dresser and stored somewhere in the garage along with her other photos with and of Wellington. One eleven-by-fourteen of Darius, Wellington, Mama, Robert, and Jada remained in the family room.
“You received my delivery?” Wellington asked.
Three bunches of red roses each accompanied by a single yellow rose was overkill. One arrangement would have sent the same message, reminding her of the night they fell in love. “Yes, and thank you.” After Jada started dating Lawrence, she’d stopped sending Wellington gifts: birthday, Valentine’s, and Christmas. The only day she acknowledged was the one she had every reason not to: Fathers’ Day.
“Did you receive my invitation?” Jada asked, fumbling through her jewelry box for a pair of earrings that wouldn’t make her a hoochie look-alike. Lawrence had scratched Wellington’s name off the guest list, saying he didn’t want any man she’d slept with at his wedding. It wasn’t just his day, so Jada had personally mailed Wellington’s invitation. If Wellington showed up, she’d blame the wedding coordinator.
“Yes.” Wellington was so quiet, Jada pressed the down arrow lowering the volume on her television. Judge Mablean was trying to convince Kendra not to divorce Kevin because he was good man.
Jada couldn’t go wrong with diamonds, so she braced the phone between her shoulder and ear, inserting the three-carat stud. What she really wanted were the huge solitaires Oprah was wearing in her ears and around her neck. “So, are you coming to my wedding?”
Wellington sighed. “Maybe. Not sure I can handle seeing you marry someone else.”
So now he had a problem. There hadn’t been a problem when he’d introduced Simone to her. Or when Simone had come to her house in L.A. with him to pick up Darius. Jada had started to make Simone wait outside, but bitterness wasn’t characteristic of a genuine diva. “You can bring Simone.” Bring her ass so she could see Lawrence’s fine ass. Would Kendra go on and give poor Kevin a chance? He seemed like one of the few brothers who apologized from his heart. Jada wished she had the number to Judge Mablean’s chambers so she could talk some sense into Kendra.
“That’s not the point,” Wellington softly responded.
“You love Simone, right?” Jada was confirming what she’d already known.
“Yes.” Wellington became silent again.
“And I love Lawrence, so both of us should be happy and happy for each other. Let me ask you a personal question. Where did you meet Simone?” At forty-three, Jada realized Simone was slightly more than half her age. “The truth or don’t answer the question.”
Suddenly, Wellington spoke louder. “What difference does that make?”
“None. I’ll talk with you later. Goodbye.” Jada hung up the phone because that was the third time he’d evaded the question. The first time he’d changed the subject. The second time he’d pretended he didn’t hear her. “Five. Four. Three. Two.”
Jada answered, “Hello,” as if the caller ID hadn’t displayed his name.
Wellington said, “I met her at a coffee shop in Oakland, and she’s in my yoga class.”
What!
“I don’t believe you. Yoga? How long have you been going?” Jada switched ears because the friction irritated her left earlobe. She should have waited to put on her earrings.
“I don’t believe you. Yoga? How long have you been going?” Jada switched ears because the friction irritated her left earlobe. She should have waited to put on her earrings.
He politely answered, “Since you moved to L.A.”
Jada’s voice escalated. “You mean since I told you I was going to yoga? And you probably went to my instructor on Lakeshore. Didn’t you?” Jada tossed her long curls behind her shoulders.
Clearing his throat, Wellington said, “Yeah, something like that. What about you and Lawrence?”
Jada knew he’d ask and couldn’t wait to answer. “On Darius’s first day of school.” Uh! Why had she told him about yoga?
“You mean the same day, four years ago, when I flew to L.A. and took you guys to Dave & Busters?”
Right about now, Wellington was either rubbing his head or pacing the floor. Jada casually responded, “Yeah, something like that.”
“That’s cool. But you know our feelings for each other run deeper. I have a question. Can I make love to you one last time before you get married?”
She wanted to say hell yeah. “No. We tried that for four years after Darius was born, remember?”
“Yeah, but you only set a date because you’re trying to prove you don’t love me when you know you do. I told you. I used poor judgment and made a mistake. I’m not like that anymore.”
Mistakes. Plus, his begging and pleading hadn’t made him leave Simone. He probably called her Princess or something close to that. “I know. It’s not you. It’s me. I have to do this for me. Listen, I’m running late. Lawrence will be here shortly. Thanks for calling.”
Enunciating every syllable, he said, “I love you, ba. For real.”
Oh, really. A couple of please, please, please, pleases, a wig, and a cape and he could go on stage as James Brown. She probably didn’t cross his mind when he was eating Simone’s pussy the way he used to eat hers.
Mama knocked on the door and said, “Jada, Lawrence is here.”
Yes! Kendra saved her marriage; now Jada could turn off the T.V. “I’ve got to go. Call me tomorrow.” Prancing into the living room, Jada asked, “Where is he?”
Acting as though he had a secret he was itching to tell, Darius said, “He’s outside, Mom.”
“Come here, sweetie. Give your mother a hug.” Jada embraced Darius, but didn’t have to bend far because he was nine years old and almost her height.
Mama said, “Have a good time. We won’t wait up for you.”
“Have fun, Mom. Hurry.” Darius pushed her toward the door.
Jada tilted her head and waited. “Well, I guess I have to open the door myself.” She pressed down on the gold lever. A big red helium-inflated heart crossed the door seal. The doorway was stacked to her hips with enough gifts to host a Valentine’s Day sidewalk sale. Lawrence leaned against the black stretch limo, holding a dozen roses as if the four dozen the florist had delivered to her earlier weren’t sufficient. Jada had hidden Wellington’s flowers in Mama’s bedroom just in case Lawrence came inside. Maybe the former Mrs. Anderson was hiding Lawrence’s flowers from her man, too. The driver moved the eloquently wrapped packages indoors.
Anything Jada didn’t want to know, she didn’t ask, so she never inquired about Ashley, before or after Lawrence’s divorce. If he volunteered information about his ex-wife, she listened but didn’t comment. When his ex-wife moved away, he handled it well. The first six months, he flew to Dallas every other weekend, taking Darius with him. Later, he started sending for Ashlee to visit them.
Smiling all the time, Lawrence was reserved, mellow, and nonchalant. His photographic memory made him one of the best civil attorneys in California. “Happy Valentine’s Day, honey. You look great.” Lawrence smiled, kissed Mama on the cheek, and massaged Darius’s head as if he were juicing an orange. Darius frowned and stumped to his bedroom. Lawrence laughed at Darius and said, “Kids.” Then he hugged Jada’s waist. “We’d better get going if we’re going to be on time for our dinner reservations. Bye, Mrs. Tanner.”
“Where are we going for dinner?” Jada asked, holding her hemline, preventing her mini from becoming micro while scooting along the air-conditioned limo seat.
“No questions. Just enjoy the element of surprise.” Placing a dissolvable mint strip on his tongue, Lawrence knelt before Jada. He spread her thighs, pushed her thong to the side, and held his tongue against her clit. His lips surrounded hers; then he blew cool air through his mouth three times.
“Damn, that feels refreshing,” Jada moaned.
Licking or sucking would unpleasantly alter the sensation, so he slowly glided his tongue into her vagina. When Jada grabbed the back of his head, he stopped and sat next to her. Lawrence tilted her flute and poured the champagne. “A toast to us.” He tapped Jada’s glass, kissed her lips, and said, “I love you.”
Jada gazed into his eyes and listened to the melody in her heart. “I love you, too,” she responded.
The restaurant host greeted them at the door. Jada laughed and pointed at the huge disco ball centered over the small dance floor. Every table was covered with a red cloth. The women were dressed in red from head to toe: shoes, purses, and outfits. The men wore black tuxedos.
“Aren’t we a little out of place?” People were either gawking or admiring their attire. Lawrence’s suit and collarless shirt were black, but he didn’t have on a bow tie.
“Mr. Anderson, your family is waiting. Follow me.” A short, heavyset woman, with patent-leather shoes so tight her feet looked as if they would double in size if she took off her one-inch heels, escorted them to a group of tables.
When Jada looked closer at the people there, she noticed Lawrence’s parents, siblings and their spouses, grand and great-grandparents were all seated at the tables. “Do y’all do everything together?” Jada mumbled.
“No. But we do share Valentine’s Day so no one in the family feels alone or lonely. My great-grandmother started this tradition during the Depression. No one eats until everyone arrives, so sometimes we party first and eat and clown around with one another over dinner later. And as usual, I’m one of the last to arrive.” Lawrence held Jada’s chair until she was seated at the table with his parents. “We’ll bring the kids next year after we’re married.”
Lawrence’s great-grandfather proceeded to bless the food. The waiters served home style, placing platters and casseroles on each table. Jada picked at her greens, cabbage, and succotash.
“Lawrence, you need to feed your fiancée; she’s not eating,” Lawrence’s mother said.
His mother reminded Jada of someone who kept her wig on a stand and false teeth by her bedside.
Smiling, Lawrence said, “She’s fine, Ma. I love her just the way she is.”
During dessert Lawrence slipped another strip on his tongue and smiled at Jada. She clamped his hand between her heated thighs. He fondled her clit, dipped his finger in her coconut cream pie, then sucked it slowly.
His mother’s eyes shifted from Jada to Lawrence. She grumbled between her teeth, “Stop that. Use your fork.”
Lawrence leisurely placed Jada’s napkin in her seat and escorted her to an empty chair under the disco ball.
Jada whispered, “What are you doing?” Everyone already knew they were engaged.
“No questions, remember?” Lawrence smiled.
Brian McKnight’s “Back at One” resonated throughout the restaurant. Jada covered her mouth with both hands, watching Brian as he sang a few lyrics at each table. Brian handed Lawrence the cordless microphone, and Lawrence picked up the song where Brian left off.
Okay, Lawrence must be lip-syncing like Millie Vanillie.
Lawrence gestured for her hand, gave Brian back the mic, and continued singing in her ear as couples joined them slow dancing on the floor.
“Wow, I didn’t know you could sing like that.” Jada laid her head on Lawrence’s shoulder.
Stroking her hair, Lawrence spoke tenderly, “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. Yet.”
“Baby, you sound so good, I had an orgasm.” Let the family party without them. Jada was ready to make love to her man.
“We’re just getting started. Wait until I get you back in the limo.” He kissed her hair.
Wait until she got him back in the limo was more like it. “How much longer are we staying?” Jada asked, hand dancing to The Temptations.
“Are you ready to leave?”
Jada responded quickly. “Yes.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” Lawrence said goodbye to his family and escorted Jada to the limo.
As soon as the door shut, he doused her hair in champagne and pulled her dress below her breasts. He teased her nipples with ice cubes, filled his mouth with bubbly, and sucked hard as he fucked her with his index finger.
Jada ripped open his shirt. Several buttons flew off. Vigorously her hands raced about his chest. She licked his left, then right nipple. Unbuckling his belt, she slipped his erection into her mouth. Moving his pants down to his knees, she pushed her thong aside, teasing her clit as she squatted on his dick. Each time her muscles tightened, Lawrence held her ass against his pelvis.
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