Somebody's Gotta Be on Top

by Mary B. Morrison

  “Damn, a brotha lookin’ good. Sho nuff gon’ seal the deal with Candice, secure a verbal commitment from Tony, then celebrate and get deep in some pussy before I leave the party tanight.”

  Heather would do if she was willing to give lip service. If not, Ginger. Or maybe he’d catch a lonely self-employed female—divorced, single, her marital status was irrelevant—all dressed up with no man to hug, willing to toast him in for the New Year. Darius opened his top drawer, removed three condoms, and placed them inside his back pocket.

  Fastening his emerald-cut diamond cuff links, Darius knocked on Ashlee’s bedroom door. “Ashlee, hurry up!” Ashlee had her own bedroom at both of his homes, Los Angeles and Oakland.

  “Give me a minute. I’m almost ready.”

  Women. What had Ashlee done from eleven o’clock until eight P.M. that she wasn’t ready? Nine solid hours. “Hurry. I don’t want to miss Tony,” Darius said, knocking again. “Let’s go.”

  Sounding annoyed, Ashlee replied, “Alright, alright. I’ll be out shortly.”

  Click. Darius heard Ashlee lock the door. While waiting for Ashlee, Darius decided to relax and burn the log in the fireplace. He removed his jacket and sat in the family room. African drums and statues were scattered amongst his hundred-plus basketball trophies. Paintings by black artists mounted in huge Kenté cloth frames decorated each wall. Darius walked over to the MVP trophy wall and smiled. Zooming in on his greatest high-school accomplishment, Darius flashed back to the day he won the Most Valuable Player award at the SoCal State championship in Southern California.

  Forty-eight points. Four slam dunks—a tip, an alley oop, a reverse, and an unforgettable two-hander. Twenty-two rebounds. Eighteen assists. With twelve-point-eight seconds remaining in the fourth quarter, the score was tied seventy-four. Making the basket and drawing the foul, Darius scored an and-one, giving his team a three-point lead. His teammate K’Nine, a six-nine guard who had committed to attend Texas State University, was fouled with six seconds remaining on the clock. K’Nine scored the first basket, giving their team a four-point lead.

  All season it was like Darius and K’Nine read one another’s minds. Darius sensed K’Nine wanted to end their senior season with an unforgettable moment. And Darius was right. K’Nine intentionally bounced the last shot off the edge of the rim, rebounded, dribbled between his legs for three seconds, then alley ooped to Darius. With both hands Darius slammed the ball with a mighty force. His legs swung in the air. The buzzer sounded. As Darius came down from the rim, the backboard shattered. With zero seconds remaining. Glass chips were everywhere. The fans went wild! Roars! Cheers! Wellington’s fists waved in the air. His mom screamed. Everybody rooting for his team danced, jumped, and yelled.

  Why had his mother ruined his chances of making it to the NBA? Owning his own business was good, but basketball was his passion. A highlight tape of his basketball career, designed by Robert Lang Video, included Darius’s greatest moments in sports. Darius’s sex videos, which were professional enough to sell, were personally recorded and reserved in his private collection, exclusively for his pleasure. And just in case a female wanted to cry rape, Darius filmed her giving an oral statement saying her participation was consensual. Since Darius preferred older women, jailbait wasn’t a concern, but for reassurance he carded every woman like a bartender would, checking driver’s licenses before serving alcohol.

  Darius’s brows lifted and his eyes widened when Ashlee entered the room. “Wow, you look nice.” Darius cupped his mouth, leaning his thumb against the side of his nose to control his sexually stimulated flaring nostrils. If Ashlee weren’t so conservative, Darius would’ve ripped that gown off and sexed her in front of the fireplace. Darius stood and raised Ashlee’s hand above her head. “Turn around. Let me see you.” She twirled in a circle. Ashlee pinched her candy red velvet dress, lifting the bottom above her sparkling red rhinestone open-toe shoes.

  “You like?” Ashlee asked, lowering her dress over her red toenails.

  “You bet,” Darius answered, putting on his jacket. Kissing Ashlee on the side of her mouth, Darius opened the front door. “Let’s go.”

  The limo driver opened the car door and waited for Ashlee and Darius to get in. A few minutes and a half a mile later the driver pulled into Darius’s parents’ long driveway. Limousines, Town Cars, and stretch Hummers were parked in front of his parents’ home.

  Darius said, “Look at all the people on the deck. It’s a good thing I did decline Mom’s offer to have her driver pick us up. You know how many people her driver has to chauffer?” Darius hated wasting time waiting on anyone.

  “Mr. Jones,” the driver said, “What time would you like for me to pick you up?”

  Wrong. The driver was mistaken if he thought he was going to be on Darius’s dime shuttling other people around, then have Darius waiting on him. “Just wait out here. I’ll call you on your cell when I’m ready. And when I say I’m ready, I’m ready.”

  Ashlee frowned but knew better than to question Darius. Darius escorted Ashlee inside, nodding as they bypassed the host manning the entrance. The fresh scent of pine stemmed from two giant Christmas trees trimmed with lace bows, gold ribbons, and porcelain Afrocentric ornaments which stood in the foyer, on opposite sides of the doorway. Red carpet runners veered to the left and right. The hardwood staircase leading up to the second floor was sealed off with a thick green velvet rope.

  Cheerful conversations projected from the family room. Darius directed Ashlee toward the quieter crowd in the living room. “Wait for me in here. I’ll be right back.” Darius left Ashlee to see who was in the family room. Noticing neither Tony nor Candice nor Ginger nor anyone else, Darius left the room, ducked under the green velvet rope, and disappeared upstairs. The two guest bedrooms were unlocked as well as his mother’s exercise and meditation rooms. Either bedroom would suffice to get laid for the New Year. Darius closed the door as he hurried back downstairs to Ashlee.

  Darius shifted his eyes toward his parents conversing with guests on the opposite side of the room. He whispered in Ashlee’s ear, “If we weren’t at my parents’ house, I’d introduce you as my woman. But since everyone here knows us, even if we don’t know them, I have to treat you like you’re family. And you need to act like I’m your brother. But just until the party is over and we get back to my house. You know what I mean?”

  “Darius, stop trippin’. Nobody is watching you. And even if they are, they don’t know how we feel about one another,” Ashlee said, touching his dreadlocks.

  Darius held Ashlee’s hand. “You can save that for later.”

  “Hey, Jones. Happy New Year.” The unmistakable voice of Tony Briscotti. Tony was the only person that called everyone by their last name.

  Darius smiled, turning toward Tony and extending his hand. “Tony, my partner. Surprised seeing you here. You’re a busy man.”

  “Not as busy as you’re going to be, Jones.” Tony’s grip tightened as he slapped Darius’s back. “Nice cuff links. Look, Jones. My time is an investment. Remember that. When someone as important and affluent as Wellington Jones invites me someplace, I show my face. Even if I only stay a few minutes. You secure that agency contract with Jordan yet?”

  “I’ll have everything under control later. Candice will be here tonight.”

  “Well,” Tony patted Darius on the back, “if you get the deal, count me in as co-executive producer.” Tony spotted Wellington across the room and waved. “Hey, Jones! Thanks for the invite.” Tony turned to Darius. “See how I made eye contact across the room. Now, I’m leaving but your dad knows I came. So if I should happen to need to talk business with him, I don’t have to go through you. Call me as soon as you sign the contract. Not before.”

  Darius quickly distanced himself from Ashlee, who stood by his side the entire time Tony spoke. Darius touched Ashlee’s bicep and said, “Wait here, I’ll be right back,” then he followed Tony to the door. Darius stopped in the foyer. Entering the house was Ginge
r Browne. Stunning. Gorgeous. Younger-looking. Sexier. Ginger’s hair was tucked behind her ears and curled upward at the ends. The shimmering tangerine-colored gown dipped below Ginger’s navel. An amethyst brooch complimented her cleavage. Long wide sleeves shaped into a V-cut covered her hands. Whoever gave Ginger that makeover at thirty-five made Ginger look ten years younger. The tall slim guy with Ginger wasn’t either of the dudes Darius remembered. Darius waited near the door beneath the mistletoe.

  Ginger handed the host a gift bag. “This is for Mr. Jones and Mrs. Tanner.”

  Darius spread his arms wide enough for Ginger to see the imprint of his dick, smiled, then asked, “What’s for me?”

  “A rich mama and daddy,” Ginger said with a bright smile. Her embrace was short. Ginger smelled edible, like warm sugar cookies. “This is my man, Lorenzo.”

  Nodding upward, Darius said, “What’s up?”

  Looking up at the mistletoe, Lorenzo said, “Sorry, dude. I’m not kissing you. Ginger, let’s go.”

  Ginger winked at Darius. “Don’t pay daddy any mind. Lorenzo is always protecting me. Good seeing you again, Darius.” Ginger kissed Darius’s cheek.

  Dude hugged Ginger’s waist so tight, it looked like she could hardly breathe. Yeah, Lorenzo was insecure. But if dude made another smart remark, he had to go. No doubt Lorenzo realized Darius could have Ginger if he wanted her. Consumed with thoughts about Ginger, Darius almost didn’t notice Candice and her husband, Terrell, entering the doorway.

  Darius blocked Candice’s path. “Hey, Candice. Just the person I need to see.” Darius hugged Candice, then shook Terrell’s hands. “Hey, man. Lookin’ good.” Darius gave Terrell a compliment and a lie at the same time. Terrell was an aging actor trying to stay young by wearing twists with a tuxedo.

  Candice smiled. “Hi, Darius. I’m not talking business tonight so don’t ask me any questions about the screenplay. Have you seen Ciara?”

  “Who?” Darius asked.

  “Ciara. Ciara Monroe.”

  “I don’t know Ciara. But I do need to ask you a question about the contract.”

  “You don’t know her, yet. No questions. Not tonight. Call me next week.” Candice walked away.

  No Candice did not walk into his mother’s house acting like she was running things. Darius mumbled, “That’s cool,” then he returned to the living room to find Ashlee sitting next to a woman with cantaloupe breasts.

  Sitting between Ashlee and the woman, Darius extended his hand. “If we’re this close I should introduce myself. Hi, I’m Darius Jones.”

  The plunging V-neckline commanded Darius’s attention. If she’d perm that afro, her high cheeks and full lips would look softer.

  She extended her manicured hand that was disproportionately small compared to her plus-size figure. “I’m Ciara.”

  “Monroe,” Darius said at the same time.

  Ciara smiled then gave him one of those quick scans that women do when checking him out. “Why, yes.” Ciara looked him down then up, again.

  “So you’re Candice’s friend?”

  “Not exactly. But Candice did invite us. That’s my man, Solomon, over there talking with Terrell.”

  “Well, have you met my,” Darius hesitated then said, “friend, Ashlee.”

  “Nice meeting you, Ashlee.” Ciara stood. “You too, Darius. Any relationship to Wellington?” Ciara asked.

  Darius smiled at Ciara’s partially exposed double-Ds sandwiched together. “That’s my dad. Can’t you see the resemblance?”

  “Honestly? No,” Ciara replied before walking over to Solomon.

  Had Ciara noticed Darius didn’t look like Wellington or was she being sarcastic? Women. Darius glanced around the room. No other prospects. Everyone worth pursuing was paired off. Thinking of being paired off. Where were his parents? Darius hadn’t seen them in over an hour. Knowing them, they were probably upstairs fucking or as his mother called it, making love.

  Darius removed his cellular phone from his pocket. Thirty minutes before midnight. The party was boring. He dialed his driver’s number. “I’m ready.” Darius looked at Ashlee. “Coming to this party was a waste of my time. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Sunday morning. New Year’s Day. Darius awoke on his family room floor with Ashlee sleeping beside him. Leaning on his elbow, Darius stared at Ashlee. Dark thick eyebrows. Slender nose with low cheekbones that blended smoothly down to her rounded chin. Yeah. Ashlee had been special to Darius since the day they’d met. On the first day of kindergarten his mom stood face-to-face talking with Ashlee’s dad while Darius bragged to Ashlee about attending Duke University. Early in his childhood Darius’s mother often talked about him going to college. At five years old, Darius didn’t care about college. He had more important things to think about, like how soon was recess so he could take off his navy blazer and swing from the monkey bars on the playground.

  When Lawrence married his mom, Ashlee’s mother moved to Texas and took Ashlee with her. That was the day Darius thought he’d lost his friend. Almost as sad as the day his mother’s eyes stopped shining when she saw his face. His mom became sad after Wellington had met Simone. Darius realized early in his life that a man could control a woman’s feelings. For years Darius pretended he didn’t miss Ashlee. Now they were grown and Ashlee was celebrating the beginning of another new year with him.

  They’d fallen asleep hours ago, around three o’clock in the morning, on a white down comforter pallet covered with blankets. The log in the fireplace burned to ashes. Kemistry’s CD played so low that if Darius hadn’t recognized the melody he wouldn’t have softly sung the lyrics “In your love I will bring my dreams to life.” A pleasant coolness floated around his face. Two empty champagne bottles lay on the white carpet next to empty flutes.

  Still staring at Ashlee, Darius’s eyes signaled his brain to sample her lips. So he did. But first Darius cupped his hand over his mouth, huffed into his palm, and then inhaled. Not bad. Darius flossed, brushed, and rinsed his mouth with Listerine three times a day. He licked his lips and watched Ashlee’s eyelids as he moved closer. Darius was ready to take their relationship to an intimate level. This time he wouldn’t have to use his fingers to press against a photographic image. Darius softly kissed Ashlee. As her eyelids fluttered, he kissed her again, this time sliding his moist tongue over her closed mouth. Ashlee tasted cotton-candy sweet. Probably the sugary residue from the champagne.

  Darius moaned, “Umm. Your lips are so soft. Kiss me, Ashlee.”

  Wiggling from underneath him, Ashlee sat up, pushing Darius away. “Darius, what are you doing? We can’t do—”

  Ashlee’s mouth opened wide enough for Darius to slip his tongue inside. He held her close. All the years he’d wanted her, Darius refused to stop his pursuit. He hugged her tight until Ashlee’s black spaghetti straps fell below her shoulders. Gently Darius bit her bottom lip. Ashlee moaned. Her petite body quivered in his arms.

  “Don’t fight the feeling. I want you, Ashlee. And I can tell you want me too.” Darius’s mouth searched for the vein behind Ashlee’s ear, traveled two inches down, then suddenly he sank his teeth into her neck. Darius applied a little more pressure, then stopped but didn’t release his bite.

  “Ummm.” A quick sharp breath entered Ashlee’s nose as her body stiffened. “Umm.”

  Lowering his head, Darius bit Ashlee’s nipple through the silk negligee. Squeezing both breasts, Darius softly gnawed on Ashlee’s other nipple. Desperately Darius craved Ashlee’s lips caressing his hard-on. He felt precum oozing from the tip of his caramel-colored dick, wetting his silk pajamas. Ashlee’s mood might change if he nudged her head toward his waist, so Darius leaned Ashlee back onto the blanket then buried his face between her thighs.

  The tip of his tongue circled Ashlee’s clit. “Ahh,” Ashlee moaned so Darius spread her lips, exposing her shaft and smothering her clit with kisses. Ashlee’s butt tilted upward as her hands rubbed the doo-rag covering his locks. Ashlee pushed hi
s face closer to her pussy. Her thin thighs suctioned, covering his ears.

  Darius lapped his moist tongue over her opening, then drank Ashlee’s juices until he brought her to the verge of cumming. Just when Ashlee’s back arched, Darius stopped. He removed his pajama pants, and straddled her face, pushing his dick toward her mouth. Ashlee’s mouth shifted to the right so Darius moved his dick to the right. Ashlee turned her face to the left so Darius pushed Slugger to the left. Ashlee dodged his erection until his dick went limp.

  What the hell? She enjoyed him doing her but she refused to do him. Bump that. The one thing Darius hated was a selfish lover. Darius slid his hand underneath his pillow and grabbed his condoms. Ashlee pulled the spaghetti straps over her shoulders then slid the gown below her waist. Did Ashlee intentionally keep her breasts covered? Forget it. If he wasn’t getting laid, he didn’t need to see her titties. Darius’s mouth curved to one side as he tightened his lips and shook his head. His dick started growing again, pointing toward Ashlee’s lips. Before he became angry at Ashlee, Darius left Ashlee lying on the floor, went into his bedroom, and locked the door.

  Ashlee didn’t have the only pussy in the world but she’d have a lonely pussy if she expected Darius to sexually pursue her again. Picking up his cell phone, Darius dialed 3-1-0 . . . and waited for an answer. “Please be home, mommy.”

  “Hey, daddy! Happy New Year!”

  “Happy New Year to you too, man. How’s my girl?” Funny how Kimberly didn’t mind when Darius called her man but would get pissed when he called her Kim. Some dude from her past must have had another woman by the name of Kim or something.

  “We’re fine. I just finished her daily grooming,” Kimberly said then laughed.