When Somebody Loves You Back

by Mary B. Morrison

“Love yourself first.” Fancy reminded herself of what was most important. She was. That’s why Desmond was in her bed and not Darius. Michael Baines had phoned, inviting her to partner on a REIT, Real Estate Investment Trust. The deal was too lucrative to say no to. But would she end up fucking Michael? He was a good catch. Tall, dark, handsome, wealthy, sparkling white teeth, the brightest smile, and Michael was always happy. Never spoke negative about anyone.

  Would Desmond move to California or would she move to Atlanta? Fancy didn’t want Darius to think she was following behind him. Was she? Would she? If that was as close as she could get, maybe.

  “Mind if I join you?” Desmond asked.

  Opening her eyes, Fancy admired Desmond’s sexy physique. Unlike most men, Dez was so sincere. Genuine. Gullible. Henpecked, as the older generation would say.

  “Sure, I’d like that,” she answered. She welcomed a distraction from the marathon of thoughts racing in her head.

  Desmond stepped into the Jacuzzi. “Dang, this water feels soft. What’s in here?”

  “My secret ingredients. Come here. Lay your head on my pillow. Relax.”

  Fancy reached for the softer sponge. Dipping it into the water, she washed Desmond’s neck, shoulders, chest, and back, ever so gently.

  “Umm, that feels so good. I never had a woman bathe me before.”

  Why didn’t that surprise Fancy?

  “Consider this my way of saying thanks for taking care of me.”

  The sponge traveled under the water, dipping in the waves of Desmond’s abs, around his sides, to his lower back. Fancy swiped the sponge between his cheeks, massaging his asshole.

  “Hey, whoa, not too deep.”

  “Relax,” Fancy said, swishing Desmond’s balls.

  Her hand wrapped around his shaft. Slowly she moved her hand up and down, over his head, then back down, delving into the deepest part of the base. “You know, Dez, if you start exercising this part”—she squeezed the muscles hiding at the base of his pubic hairs—“your erection can become ten times stronger. If you do what I tell you your dick will be superhard and amazingly strong. Just contract and relax. Contract, yeah, like that, now relax. Move your dick up and down without touching it. Now hold it down with your hand and apply upward resistance. See if you can make your hand move.”

  “How do you know so much about a man’s dick?”

  Fancy smiled, then answered, “I read a lot.”

  Straddling Desmond in the Jacuzzi, Fancy squatted on his head.

  “Umm, I’d forgotten how good you feel, Dez.”

  Lowering her hips a little at a time, Fancy rolled back and forth, teasing her G-spot.

  “I love you, Fancy.”

  “Uh-huh. I know, Dez.” She moaned his name, riding him halfway down, then back up.

  Her pussy was hot, wet from the inside out. Quickening her stride, Fancy kissed Dez, then leaned her head back, placing his hands over her breasts. Dipping into her pot of honey, Fancy stroked her clit.

  “I’m cumming, Dez. I’m cumming so hard.”

  “Me too,” Dez grunted, forcing her hips lower.

  Slowly Fancy closed her eyes, moaning, “Fuck me, Darius. Fuck me, Daddy!” She yelled, then swallowed a gulp of water.

  Breaking through the layer of water covering her body, Fancy swiped her face, gasping for air. “Huuuh. Huuuuh. What’s the hell wrong with you?”

  Silently, Desmond stepped out, dragging bubbles and milky water over the side.

  Puzzled, Fancy said, “O-kay, then let’s get out, why don’t we? Dez, what is it?”

  Drying herself off, she watched Desmond do the same. She wanted so badly to finish making love, but what was Dez’s problem? Lying on her back beside him, Fancy stared at the ceiling.

  Desmond’s hands cupped his dick like he was hiding it from her.

  Fancy kissed Desmond, then rolled over. “I’m exhausted and sleepy. We can continue this in the morning,” she lied, knowing she’d be out of the bed well before Desmond woke up.

  CHAPTER 38

  Darius

  When Darius returned from Atlanta, he was putting his dad out of his mom’s house. Darius carried his packed suitcase into the hallway, setting the brown designer bag by the rail. The first day of training camp was tomorrow.

  Knock, knock.

  “Yes,” Candice answered.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure, it’s open.”

  Turning the knob, Darius entered. “Got a minute?” he asked, sitting on the bench.

  Surrounded by pillows, Candice sandwiched one between her thighs, sat in the center of the bed, folded her legs, and listened. The head bandage was gone, but a small scar remained.

  “I guess that means yes. Look, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day and just wanted to say, you’re right.”

  “I’m right?” Candice repeated.

  “Yes, and wrong, but I know beneath all your snooping, you have my mother’s best interest at heart. Please look after her until I get back.”

  Candice had known his mom before he was born. Considering his dad was being kicked out soon, Darius feared that if he ostracized Candice and if Auntie Jazzmyne left, his mom would be all alone. Darius was moving too far away to personally take care of his mother.

  Candice chuckled. “Your dad’s got that covered. Besides, I’m perfectly content staying out of the way. The less I know the better. I’m here in case she needs me, but after the funeral, I’m gone.” A tear fell from her eye.

  “There’ll be none of that,” Darius said, extending his hands.

  “Don’t leave my mom. She needs you.”

  Candice gently placed her palms atop his. “Give me a hug.” As she moved closer, Candice’s breasts pressed hard against his chest. “Good luck in Atlanta.” Her face nestled into his collarbone as she kissed him softly. “You know you want me too.”

  If this ain’t the realest. “I gotta go.” Darius stood so fast, Candice fell over the bench onto the floor. He didn’t look back. Darius loved pussy. Ten, maybe fifteen years his senior was cool as long as there were no gray hairs, which he was almost certain Candice had a few. The first time he saw one he threw up between the woman’s legs, slapping her thighs together. Darius couldn’t remember her name, but he’d said, “Shave that nasty shit off!” then left. Candice was fine. Not that fine. The thought of being with a woman more than twice his age was downright nauseating.

  Darius closed Candice’s door. Standing in the hallway, he thought, Go on, get it out of the way, dawg.

  His mother was better but not her normal self. Darius got her to do things others couldn’t, like she’d finally agreed to make Wellington’s arrangements.

  Darryl felt Darius was infringing upon his time and invading his space, so Darryl eagerly encouraged him to go, saying, “The assistant coach doesn’t need a reason to act a fool. Leave. Now.”

  Knock, knock.

  “Yes,” his dad’s voice resonated from inside his mother’s bedroom.

  “Ma.”

  “Come in, sweetie.”

  Afraid he’d see more than he desired, Darius opened the door six inches, standing outside. “Ma, I’m headin’ out to Atlanta for a few days. I’ll be back when you set a date for the services.”

  “No, come here. Why are you leaving me?”

  Darryl interrupted. “He’ll be back, honey. I’ll be here with you. Darius has to go.”

  There was something chilling about the way his dad said “Darius has to go” that made him angry. That’s my mom, Darius thought, entering her room.

  “How long? Why, Darius?”

  “Not long, Ma. I promise. You my girl, remember that,” he said, kissing his mother’s forehead, then her cheek. “I love you. I’ll call as soon as I get in. Now give me a kiss.” Darius leaned his cheek beside his mother’s lips as she puckered.

  “Okay, sweetie.”

  Emphatically, Darryl said, “Good-bye, Son.”

  Flatly, Darius replied, “Bye, Dad.
And do not let Kevin step foot in my office.”

  Damn, Darius wished he had time to hire new staff and fire his dad.

  “Don’t forget who helped you get that NBA contract. One phone call and you’ll never see your first game.”

  “Don’t you forget who owns my multimillion-dollar company,” Darius returned, fire fueling his words.

  “Billion-dollar company sweetie,” his mom said, slapping Darryl repeatedly. “Don’t you dare talk to my baby like that, like he owes you something. Darius has done more for you than you’ve ever done for him.”

  Good. Sucking his teeth, Darius closed his mom’s door. So that’s why he was eager to step in. Darius was clear on what he had to do but had no idea before today that he was a billionaire.

  Tapping on Candice’s door, Darius peeped inside. Candice sat beside the bay window staring outside. “Do me a favor. Let me know if my brother Kevin conducts any business for my company while I’m away.”

  “What? You’re asking me to spy for you?”

  “It’s what you do best. Yes. Thank you and good-bye.”

  Exhaling, Darius raced downstairs with his suitcase. “Should I fire my dad, demote him, or leave him alone?” Being a family for the first time felt more strange than natural. Darius exited the front door, tossing his luggage in the trunk.

  “You don’t have to worry about that right now, baby. He’ll give you the answer,” his auntie Jazzmyne said, sitting on the sofa. She never turned around.

  Kissing her cheek, Darius said, “Keep an eye on him for me.”

  “I’ll keep two. Now you get out of here.”

  Opening his car door, Darius stopped and smiled as a familiar car drove up. He mouthed, “Ladycat.” His heart began beating fast but damn near stopped when saw a man in the passenger seat.

  Fancy parked beside his car. When she got out, dude got out too.

  “Hi, Darius. Desmond, can you get the sympathy card and flowers out of the car for me please?”

  “Sure, baby,” Desmond answered.

  Darius thought about the conversation he’d had with Fancy’s mother. “Hey, Ladycat,” he said, holding her close. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. I hope you’ve forgiven me.”

  What was Fancy doing with that loser who damn near broke his neck getting back to her?

  “I have forgiven you.”

  But not the way Darius wanted her to. “Can we talk? I mean can I listen to what you have to say?”

  Desmond shook his head.

  Fancy replied, “This is not a good time.”

  “For me either. I’m on my way to NBA camp.” Compete with that, you little unemployed runt.

  “Besides, I’m not sure you heard my side objectively the first time.”

  Great! Fancy had given Darius the perfect opportunity. “Oh, you mean when we spent the night together at my house in Oakland last week? Baby, don’t. Don’t do this to us. Please, I’ve been dying inside without you.”

  Desmond rattled the flowers. “You lied to me. Again. Let’s go.”

  Darius’s eyes locked into Fancy’s. He could feel she’d give him another chance if he didn’t fuck it up before she decided.

  “Darius, this is my fiancé, Desmond Brown. Dez, this is my ex-fiancé, Darius Williams.”

  That was a jacked-up introduction.

  “What’s up, man?” Desmond said, squaring his shoulders, then extending his hand to Darius.

  Staring down into Desmond’s eyes, Darius shook his hand. “Congratulations, man.”

  Desmond smiled. “Thanks.”

  Darius thought Thanks, my ass, with that punk-ass handshake, then boldly said, “On finding your own woman. Fancy is mine.”

  Hugging Fancy for what seemed like forever, Darius was pleased when she didn’t pull away from his embrace. His lips pressed against her ear as he whispered, “I love you, Ladycat. Please. Come back home.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Jada

  Once an adult, three times a child.

  Infancy to childhood, teens to late twenties, and after fifty, men were like kids. Immature. Selfish. Know-it-alls.

  Jada stood in Wellington’s study. His bookshelves spilled over with nonfiction, accounting, investing, and, kneeling to the bottom row, Jada scanned a series of subjects on anticancer diets based on whole foods; and vitamins, minerals, enzymes, and herbs used to strengthen the body’s ability to eliminate cancer cells. Hypnosis. How to boost your immune system to combat and destroy cancer cells.

  “My God,” she said, sitting at Wellington’s desk. “That silly, silly man.”

  Jada fumbled through Wellington’s personal items and newspaper clippings. The last time she’d snooped through his personal items his PDA schedule had Melanie on the calendar. When Jada made that discovery, she’d flown all the way to San Francisco to confront Wellington while he dined at the Cheesecake Factory atop Macy’s with Melanie. The entire ordeal was ludicrous. Jada couldn’t keep a grown man from fucking even if he was her husband. From that day forward, Jada promised herself never to invade Wellington’s privacy.

  Jada’s curiosity was an intrusion of sorts because Wellington had hid so much from her. Didn’t he trust her to have his best interest at heart? He’d saved the articles on Coretta Scott King’s death. Well, she too sought alternative cancer treatments. There had to be some theory behind the vast options, but where was the proof?

  “Goddamn greedy Americans can spend billions of dollars to put a man on the moon, but with all the money we’ve donated to cancer research they can’t find a cure.” When was the last time researchers found a cure for any disease? “All these new medications with more side effects that keep people sick…You bastards helped kill my husband!” Jada yelled, flinging recyclable paper into the trash. “This isn’t news, this is propaganda.”

  Cleaning out Wellington’s safe, Jada wasn’t surprised as she picked up one of dozens of bottles that fell out. She read the label, “Detox pills; chemo replacement enzymes.” Shaking every bottle, she saw they were all empty and had expired over a year ago.

  “That childish man tried to treat his cancer naturally only to find out the disease had spread rapidly throughout his body.”

  Alternative medicine. He had to have gotten it from Mexico or Melanie. Either way it hadn’t worked. Jada really didn’t know enough about the treatments, but why didn’t he tell her? Early surgery could’ve prolonged his life. Maybe he could’ve done both. Well, it was too late now.

  Closing the safe, Jada opened the file cabinet. She thumbed through the Ls once, twice, three times. The file labeled Living Trust was gone. No telling what Wellington had advised his attorney or who removed the file and why. Jada could speculate forever and not find the answer. Wellington would be her first guess, then Darius, Darryl, Jazzmyne, Candice, everyone who had access.

  Exiting Wellington’s office, Jada sat in the living room for the first time since Wellington’s death. She held Darryl’s hand, thankful she didn’t have to manage on her own. That sneaky husband of hers.

  Exhaling, Jada said, “At least he was consistent.”

  Jazzmyne sat quietly watching. Jada was sure Jazzmyne didn’t approve of Darryl being in the house but hadn’t commented.

  “I’m ready,” Jada whispered. “It’s time.”

  “What?” Jazzmyne said softly.

  “I’m ready to handle all of Wellington’s affairs. I have to find the copy of his living trust, but we can proceed without it. I must’ve misplaced it and can’t remember.” Jada paused, hoping Jazzmyne or Darryl would speak up. Neither of them spoke a word. “Where’s the phone?”

  Darryl asked, “Are you sure? Sure you’re ready to handle this? So soon?”

  Jazzmyne frowned. “Don’t you think it’s time? My brother’s body is lying cold in a morgue. He deserves better.”

  That was debatable, Jada thought. But no one except her knew the whole truth. She was kidding herself if she believed Wellington had told her everything, but Jada prayed she knew mo
re than Melanie and Simone.

  “Give me the phone, the number to the funeral home, and Wellington’s attorney’s.” Jada couldn’t remember to eat, let alone recall details.

  Jazzmyne offered, “I can do this for you.”

  “No, I have to do this myself. I’m ready to bring closure to this part of my life.” Jada looked at Darryl. “And start anew.”

  Dialing the number to Wellington’s attorney first, Jada said, “I’d like to arrange a preliminary probate hearing in two days. Messenger me Wellington’s latest living trust.” She needed to see what the attorney would present.

  “That’s incredibly short notice, Mrs. Tanner. Can we do it next week?”

  “Next week is fine. A few more days won’t matter. But make sure I receive a copy of the trust today.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” Jada hung up, then dialed her pastor. “Yes, Pastor.”

  “Hello, Sister Tanner. Praise God, you’re finally ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know you don’t want to delay Brother Jones’s services. I’m available tomorrow. Or the next day.”

  “Tomorrow is fine.”

  Jazzmyne moved to the edge of her seat, shaking her head. “Tomorrow is not fine. You can’t just put this off, then all of a sudden bury my brother without giving his out-of-town clients and friends an opportunity to attend.”

  Jada looked at Jazzmyne and said, “He was my husband. Not yours. I don’t mean to sound rude or insensitive, but I have to let go. The sooner the better. He’s gone. My soul mate is gone.”

  Darryl wrapped his arm around Jada’s shoulder, reminding her of what Wellington had said.

  “So, probate is next week?” Darryl asked.

  “Yes, I need to call Simone and Melanie. Did either of them go into Wellington’s study?”

  Suddenly avoiding eye contact, Jazzmyne said, “Not that I know of, but I can text them if you want.”

  “I’ll do it. I prefer to call.”

  Jada dialed Simone’s number first.

  “Simone, probate is next week. The funeral is tomorrow. Did you go into Wellington’s study?”

  “Tomorrow,” Simone said. “We can’t make it tomorrow. I need more time.”