Somebody's Gotta Be on Top

by Mary B. Morrison

  “I don’t think I can change my mind. If I stay, I won’t be happy.” Ashlee lay back on the pillow.

  Darius heard Ashlee say, “don’t think I can change my mind.” That was a good sign Ashlee probably wouldn’t leave him. “I do love you, Ashlee.” Darius tickled Ashlee’s sides. Ashlee pushed his hands away. “I’ll be in my weight room. If you want to talk some more, come see me.”

  Darius watched the sparkle in Ashlee’s eyes gradually fade. He had no one to blame but himself. Darius should’ve bought Ashlee her own home like he’d done for Kimberly.

  Darius went into his weight room. Time spent traveling to and from a gym was wasted minutes he could invest in lifting. Darius stacked three fifty-pound plates on each side of the bar. He slid the metal locks on each side of the bar to secure the weights.

  “Uuuuhhh,” Darius grunted, hoisting three hundred pounds high above his chest. “Uuh.” One. “Uuh.” Two. Each time he pushed the weights upward he exhaled. “Uuh.” Three. Darius did eight reps. The last two Darius pushed, exerting all his strength. He stood and stretched his arms, then loaded the dumbbells for his biceps curls.

  Resting his elbow inside his thigh close to his knee, Darius slowly curled his arm toward his chest. Gradually he released, concentrating on his targeted muscle. He repeated ten reps then switched arms. The mirrors which covered every wall allowed Darius to admire himself.

  Darius thought about Darryl, then curled his arm tighter, releasing his frustrations. His teeth clenched. Eyes narrowed. “Fuck him. That sorry-ass bastard. One day I might whup his sorry ass just for the hell of it.” Who was really the bastard? Darius thought.

  Ashlee entered, interrupting his thoughts. “Darius, Ciara is on the phone. She said it’s important that she speaks with you right now.” Ashlee handed Darius the cordless.

  Darius answered the phone, “I’m busy. Let me call you back.” Darius hung up, then tossed the phone to the floor.

  The phone rang. “Don’t answer that. I call her back when I’m done.” Darius turned off the ringer. “Come here. Let me teach you how to work on your upper body.”

  Ashlee’s eyes roamed Darius’s naked chest. “No, thanks. I have to get dressed. Maybe next time.”

  “It’ll only take a minute,” Darius lied, coaxing Ashlee to the Nautilus workout area.

  Ashlee’s cinnamon-colored silk gown clung to her curves, defining the split in her cheeks. Her hair smelled fresh. Rosy. Darius stood close behind Ashlee, raising her arms to the bar.

  “Hold on. Grab each side. And when I tell you to pull down, pull slow.”

  “Okay,” Ashlee responded, standing still.

  “Now,” Darius said, guiding Ashlee’s arms with his, “pull slowly. Pace yourself with my movement. This will tone your triceps.”

  “This is light weight.”

  “It’s okay. You need to start off learning proper form. Next time we can add weight.” Darius stepped closer. This time when Ashlee’s arms lowered, he brushed against her breasts. He watched her nipples harden in the mirror. “Take a deep breath and relax. You’re doing good. Just keep your arms still and bend your elbows.” Darius intentionally grazed again, this time touching Ashlee’s nipples.

  Ashlee remained silent. She inhaled deeply. When the bar retracted in place above her head, Ashlee held on. “This is a really good stretch.”

  Darius cupped her breasts. His lips pressed gently against her neck. “I want to make love to you, Ashlee.”

  Ashlee remained silent. Her fingers loosened but didn’t release the bar. Her hips curved backward into Darius’s thighs as Darius pressed his erection into Ashlee’s back.

  “You won’t regret it,” Darius whispered. “I promise.” One finger at a time, he uncurled Ashlee’s fingers from the bar. He interlocked her fingers into his then lowered her hands to the perspiration arch in her gown above her thighs. Darius pressed gently until he saw the imprint of Ashlee’s pubic hairs. Several strands threaded through her gown.

  Watching their reflection, Darius lowered Ashlee’s left strap, exposing part of her breast. Then he slid the right spaghetti string below her bicep. Cinnamon silk trickled to the floor, encircling Ashlee’s feet. Perfect breasts. Flawless smooth skin. Bushy but neat pubic hairs. Darius kissed Ashlee’s shoulders. He licked his lips and kissed down her spine to her cheeks. His thumbs settled in the crevice between her outer lips and thighs.

  Darius’s tongue glided down, but didn’t penetrate the space between Ashlee’s butt. One thumb rotated on her clit while the other entered her vagina. Ashlee parted her legs. Darius stood.

  “Come over here. Stand up on the bench and hold on to this bar.”

  Ashlee quietly followed his instructions.

  Darius parted her thighs. He squatted, lowered his lips to hers, and slowly licked her clitoris. Repeatedly Darius licked. Then sucked. “Relax. Hold on. I got cha,” he whispered before inserting his index and middle fingers into Ashlee’s vagina. His fingers curled forward, teasing her G-spot.

  “Ahhh,” Ashlee moaned her first sounds.

  Darius flicked his tongue. While massaging her G-spot, he siphoned the juices flowing from Ashlee’s clit until her hips swerved in motion with his lips and fingers.

  “Oh, please stop. Stop. Stop,” Ashlee said, pushing his locks away.

  Darius stood and reached for Ashlee’s hand, assisting her off the bench. He guided her body until she straddled the bench. “Sit here.” Darius sat behind Ashlee with his legs on opposite sides of the bench. “Lay down,” he instructed, pushing against Ashlee’s shoulder blades.

  Ashlee’s asshole was tight. She wrapped her fingers around the legs of the bench. Darius separated her cheeks a little more. Tilting her pelvis upward, Darius flushed Ashlee’s thighs against his. His dick slowly penetrated the opening of her vagina. Darius rotated Ashlee’s ass in his palms and thrust his dick deeper inside Ashlee’s warm pussy. She was wet. Hot. Sweet. Sweaty.

  Darius wrapped his arm inside Ashlee’s thigh. His middle finger moved in circular motion against her clit. Surprisingly Ashlee’s muscles gripped his dick. Darius fucked her harder. Faster. His finger moved faster. Darius inserted the tip of his other middle finger in Ashlee’s ass. Her hips moved away so Darius retracted his finger, grabbed her cheeks and stroked faster.

  “Aw, damn. I’m cumming Ashlee. Cum with me.” Darius massaged Ashlee’s clit as fast as he could.

  Ashlee moaned, still gripping the bench legs.

  “Yes, give it to me. Damn, you’re good.” Darius’s cum flowed in waves, flooding Ashlee’s pussy. “Damn, I knew you were the best,” Darius said, slapping Ashlee’s ass.

  When Ashlee stood, clumps of semen plopped on the bench.

  “I know I’m going to regret this. I worked so hard not to cross the line.”

  Darius had no regrets. Not even the fact that he didn’t use a condom. He thought about going to get one but figured Ashlee would’ve changed her mind by the time he returned. Women. They never meant what they said. Ashlee couldn’t resist him forever. She knew she wanted what all the other women wanted. Him.

  Darius said, “It was destiny. Don’t have regrets. We’re meant for each other.”

  “I’m going to shower and go to bed.”

  Darius smiled. Was that all it took to wear Ashlee out? “I thought you had plans.”

  “Had plans,” Ashlee said, picking her gown off the floor.

  As soon as Darius turned on the ringer, the phone rang. “Hello.”

  “Darius I need to speak with you. You either talk to me now, or I’m coming over to your—”

  Click. Darius hung up on Ciara. This wasn’t a good time to reveal his divorce request. By the time Ciara got to his house, Darius would be on his way to Kimberly’s.

  CHAPTER 31

  Ciara fluffed her pillow. Doubling the edge, she tucked the folded pillow under her head, curled into a fetal position and closed her eyes. Tossing the cover over her face, Ciara turned onto her back. She shifted onto her right s
ide into another cuddling position. Keys? Did she hear keys jiggling in the door? The nerve of him to show up at her place. The light switch flipped. Darius slid the sheer veneer against the wrought-iron rail.

  “Another late night at the office I presume,” Ciara said sitting up in bed. The digital clock changed from two fifty-nine to three A.M. Ciara loosened then retied her black headscarf. Normally Ciara would’ve removed the wrap and combed her afro whenever they slept together.

  Darius didn’t respond. He unbuckled his pants, aligned the creases, and then neatly hung the black slacks on a hanger. His polished shoes he set in the closet beneath his slacks. Darius placed his Rolex and cuff links on the nightstand.

  “I thought you weren’t sleeping here anymore. What happened to all those words you spoke the other day? ‘I want a divorce. I’m leaving you. I never should’ve married you.’ Huh, Darius? I agree. And we will get divorced, but not until I’m ready. What I don’t appreciate is you showing up at my house unannounced.”

  Darius remained silent. He eased under the covers and turned his back to Ciara. Oh this nigga don’ lost his mind.

  “Oh, you are going to talk to me. Don’t think you’re not.” Ciara pushed Darius’s shoulder until his back lay against the sheets. “So how long have you been fucking Ashlee? And don’t lie and tell me you’re not because she already told me you are,” Ciara lied. If Ciara could perform an abortion, she’d kill Darius’s child growing inside her instantly. No. That wasn’t true. Ciara wanted a baby. But Ciara also wanted to slap Darius upside his head. But if he raised his hand to hit her back, she’d have to call Monica for backup. That’s right, Ciara recalled, Monica has a new friend. Ciara met the woman once. She seemed nice. Said she was happily married and all.

  Darius mumbled, “Then she should’ve told you how long. Now, may I go back to sleep.”

  “Back to sleep?” Ciara straddled Darius. “You should’ve stayed where in the fuck you were if you wanted to sleep. This my house. You hear me! My house!” Her tensed hands forced his shoulders into the mattress.

  Darius calmly said, “True. But legally it’s mine too.”

  Ciara climbed off of Darius. “Yeah, you take your ass to sleep. You’d better sleep with one eye open.”

  “You know every day you convince me you’re certifiably crazy. If you don’t come to your senses, I’m going to commit you to a mental institution.”

  “Commit your damn self.” Ciara shoved her pillow in Darius’s face. Rage surfaced to her trembling hands. He’s not worth it, Ciara. Just go to sleep. Tomorrow is another day. “Spoiled ass mama’s boy. You need to grow the fuck up!”

  “Don’t hate on a brother. I’m rich. I’m fine. And I’m grown.” Darius turned toward Ciara and asked, “How’s Donavon?”

  Donavon? What? “Don’t try to reverse this. This isn’t about me. Or Solomon. It’s about you. And your lies. And your women. And God knows what else.”

  Darius propped his head on his elbow. “How’s Allen? Or better yet, how’s Romeo? You still hooking up with him when you get to D.C. next week? For what?”

  Ciara sucked in so much oxygen her lungs hurt. How did Darius know? How much did he know?

  Darius yelled, “What the fuck you having some shady-ass PI follow me around taking pictures for? For what, Ciara? So you can present to the judge? What you need to know is I got pictures too. And what the hell are you going to do with Romeo? Fuck him ’til he can’t cum no more? Or better yet, let him fuck you in the ass?! Huh, Ciara? Answer me! Slut!”

  Ciara’s heart lightened, smiling on the inside. Darius could cheat but he couldn’t handle infidelity. Ciara calmly said, “If you know all of that, then you should know ‘for what?’” The demon inside of her moments ago, left her body. Wow, what a trip. In a split second her frustrations were blazing so hot, she could’ve seriously hurt Darius.

  Darius pulled the cover above Ciara’s head. “Go to sleep. Or give me head.”

  “These lips will never touch any parts of your body again.” Ciara eased from underneath the covers and went into the living room before Darius made her a liar. She sat in her favorite seat with pen and paper in her hands and wrote.

  Where did I go wrong? I’m more established, more mature, and definitely more stable than Darius. When I had Solomon I didn’t want him. When he left I wanted him more. After divorcing Allen I felt relieved. After marrying Darius I felt trapped. But how did I get into those predicaments? I’m not selfish. I’m fairly wealthy. I’m not undersexed. I’m attractive. I’m on my fourth husband. First pregnancy. I’m not crazy but sometimes I feel like I’m going to snap. Maybe I need to find me a friend. A female friend and confidante like Monica and leave men alone for a while.

  Ciara dragged her pen back and forth until that last sentence was marked out, then she ripped the page into pieces and tossed them on the coffee table. Ciara went into the bedroom. She shook Darius’s shoulder. “Wake up. We need to talk.”

  Darius looked at the clock. Five-fifteen. “What, Ciara? Damn, what is it?”

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” Ciara wanted to tell Darius the truth about Allen, Romeo, and Donavon, but didn’t. “I’m pregnant.”

  “I thought we discussed this. We agreed. No kids. That’s the only reason I stopped using condoms with you.”

  “You said you didn’t want any kids. I said I wanted two. That’s hardly an agreement.”

  “Well, get a divorce. I mean an abortion. Because I don’t want any kids.”

  “You don’t want kids, or you don’t want a family with me?”

  “Pick one. I don’t trust you, Ciara. I don’t even know who’s the father. Donavon? Allen? Romeo? Me? Do you know? I’m not raising some other man’s child.”

  “Of course I know. It’s yours.” Tears streamed down Ciara’s cheeks. “And regardless of how you feel, I’m having our baby.”

  Darius sighed heavily. “It’s six o’clock. I’ve got to go. Don’t call me at my office with this foolishness. And don’t be late for our meeting with Parapictures.”

  “What? I’m the one who’s acting foolish? Whatever.” Ciara shook her head. She sat on the edge of the bed and waited until Darius showered then left. Ciara showered and left too.

  CHAPTER 32

  First-time home buyer, Kevin Williams, strutted about his new home and smiled so wide his jaws ached. Three thousand square feet of jet black and cobalt blue furniture was arranged by a professional interior decorator. A few gold fixtures were accented throughout his house. The living room, two loveseats, one black, one blue on opposite ends of the gold-trimmed coffee table. Two high-back suede chairs, one black, one blue, were situated to the left of his fireplace. A glass-top table sat between the chairs with a glass chess set on top.

  Soon Kevin would transition from Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top to Parapictures. Leaving Darius’s company meant no more lump sums of cash for NyVek. Tony offered a top power position in the movie production department. Whenever Kevin accepted Tony’s offer, if Darius wanted Somebody’s films to top the box-office charts, Darius would have to depend on Kevin.

  Bing. The sweet sound of authentic crystal wine goblets. The cellar, stocked with libations, awaited his guest’s selection.

  Striking a match, Kevin lit each of the seven tall gold candles on his dining room table. Seven upholstered dining-room chairs, four black, three blue, surrounded a rectangular glass-top table situated atop a life-sized stuffed lion. Never would Kevin have two heads of his dining room. Carefully Kevin basted the duck, stirred the potatoes, then reduced the heat under the steaming carrots and snow peas. Thankfully there were no rodents or roaches since he’d moved in.

  Kevin spread his arms east and west. “This is living.” He kissed his fingertips like Tony. “Mmmmm.”

  Ding-dong.

  “She’s finally here.” Kevin hurried to the door, admired his black slacks and long-sleeve shirt in the foyer mirror, and smiled. His fingers turned the knob to greet his first houseguest. “Welcome
to my home. Come in. You look beautiful.”

  Fortunately Ashlee hadn’t seen his Compton apartment. Afraid he’d transport undesirables, Kevin had left everything he owned at his Compton residence, except his new wardrobe which he delivered to the dry cleaners and shoe shop before storing it in his master walk-in closet.

  Ashlee moved one foot length at a time on the plush gray carpet. “Thanks. For inviting me. Smells good. I didn’t know you could cook.”

  Kevin hadn’t cooked. He hired a mobile chef to prepare the meal and make it appear he’d done everything himself. “There’s lots of things about me you don’t know. But give us time. That’ll change.” Kevin ruffled the shingles on Ashlee’s red poncho. “Nice pullover. I noticed after the rain, August nights can get a little cool.”

  “Yeah, it doesn’t take much for me to get cold. I’m glad you invited me. I needed a break from work. So promise me you won’t discuss work.”

  “Okay, after this one quick question. Have you cut this week’s check to NyVek? I haven’t . . . I mean they haven’t received the check and I haven’t seen the invoice yet.”

  Ashlee frowned. “They called you?”

  Kevin shook his head. “Naw, Angel transferred them to my extension because you were out of town with Darius.”

  Four lines creased Ashlee’s forehead. “The check is in the mail.”

  “Cool, you hungry?” Kevin asked, rubbing his stomach. “I’m starving.”

  Yes! Kevin knew he wasn’t smart enough to outsmart Darius forever. The main reason most crooks got caught was because they didn’t know when to quit and move on. A few more disbursements and Kevin would quit before Darius realized what happened.

  Ashlee selected a bottle of merlot. Kevin pulled out her chair. Ashlee’s knees grazed the lion’s mane. “Wow, this is interesting. I don’t want to know if he’s real.”