Soulmates Dissipate (3 page)

The warm water flowed over Wellington’s body. She rubbed Karma Sutra oil all over his body. Teased his hardened nipples. Massaged his chest and abs. And stroked his circumcised penis. He moaned in a deep passionate voice.

Jada’s vagina snapped. Released. Contracted. Her hot watery tongue raced up and down Wellington’s shaft. His muscle slapped her right cheek several times. She kissed, licked, and then sucked him hard—so hard she felt the walls of her mouth cave in and tighten around
The Ruler.
With each deep suck, her nose and lips pressed against his pubic hairs. She never disclosed how she’d learned to deep throat.

“Ow, girl.”

“You taste so good, baby.” Jada drooled.

Her lips explored his inner thighs. Voyaged to his jewels and slowly continued to his knees, his
feet. She embraced his toes with her lips. He shivered and muttered, “Come back up.”

“In a minute.” Jada slid her slippery breasts against Wellington’s smooth feet and fondled them. He wiggled his toes as if to say “Fuck the feet!”

The thought of blue balls convinced her to switch. She started performing her special lemon twist. With oily hands she twisted his dick. Left and right. Up and down. The palm of her hand occasionally covered his head to prolong his ejaculation. Wellington watched Mama work.

“Whose is it?” She slipped his hardness into her hungry mouth.

“Da-Da-Diamond ru-rules
The Ruler.”

Each time his head touched the back of her throat, her juices flowed. This time she held her lips and nose against his pubic hair so hard she could hardly breathe. She didn’t care. She had to reach her other G-spot. She knew Wellington’s excitement heightened whenever she did this. Jada intentionally limited her oxygen supply to intensify her orgasm.

Jada slid her hand under the table and gently penetrated Wellington. Her oily index finger glided in and out of his rectum. His toes curled.” Damn, girl. You sure know how to make me feel good. Don’t stop. Please! Don’t stop.”

She loved it when he begged. Jada’s finger test was pass or fail. If a man became paranoid and rejected the gesture, he was too damn conservative. An experienced man who was secure with his manhood understood that dual sexual stimulation was cosmic.

Steadily, she increased the pace. Not too fast.
She wanted her man to enjoy every second. Wellington could no longer hold back his powerful explosion. He released the loudest and deepest groan she had ever heard.

As he reached his orgasmic peak, he shivered, epileptic-like. She wasn’t finished just yet. Her mouth welcomed the thick creamy fluids that flowed like lava oozing over the top of an erupting volcano. Little by little his sweetness flowed from her mouth while she kissed, licked, and sucked him.

Wellington could barely move. He stumbled to his king-size bed, dripping wet. He fell backward on the brown silk comforter. His arms spread east and west.” Damn, girl.”

“Mission accomplished,” Jada whispered as she kissed Wellington’s forehead. She slipped into her dress and went downstairs.

Melanie was preparing a vegetarian omelet. She held the blue plastic ladle in her hand and asked, “Would you like to have breakfast
again?”

“That depends on what you’re serving.”

Omelet. What else?” Melanie’s cherry-red lips curved. The flawless arch in her eyebrows extended upward.

“Sure. Why not?” Jada sat at the breakfast nook near the window and admired the architectural design of the kitchen. Wellington’s kitchen was designed as if he were a chef. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling. Most of them had never been used. His double stove with eight burners and customized grill rested in the center like a huge island.

Melanie cracked three eggs. She moved about the kitchen like she was right at home. She knew
exactly where everything was located. Melanie held the bowl of diced ham and said, “I’m having a vegetarian omelet. Would you like me to add meat to yours, or have you had your fill today?”

Her sarcasm had grown old. Jada crossed her arms and pivoted in her seat.” Look, Melanie. I really don’t know you. But the way you’re making little snide remarks leads me to believe you’re lacking sexual gratification in your socioeconomic and politically correct environment.”

She delicately folded the omelet.” No, Diamond.”

“Stop right there. Only my father—may he rest in peace—and Wellington use my middle name.
Please,
call me Jada.”

Melanie sighed. She quietly placed the ladle in the sink.” I’ll call you whatever you prefer. But you shouldn’t introduce yourself as Diamond if you don’t want anyone other than
your men
calling you that.
No, Jada
—as you prefer—to answer your question, I’m not lacking at all. I was simply trying to break the ice. So let’s try this a different way.”

Melanie sat perpendicular to Jada, crossed her legs, leaned forward, and said, “My name is Melanie Marie Thompson. I graduated from Howard University in 1987. I’m thirty-two years old. Never married. No kids. My grandmother is a Greek. My mother’s a Greek. And I’m a Greek. Are you a Greek, Jada?” Melanie returned to the stove and flipped the omelet with ease.

Jada unfolded her arms.” No, my mother never believed in affiliations and I feel the same.”

“Oh, so I see. Well, my family has a longstanding history with many
affluent
organizations. Just like Mrs. Jones.”

The omelet was almost ready. The aroma made Jada hungry.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Would you like me to add any spices to your omelet?” asked Melanie.

“No, thanks. I’ve had enough
spice
this morning.” Jada tossed her wet hair over her shoulders.

“See, now you’re the one bringing it up so I’ll just ignore that statement. Here’s your omelet.”

“Thanks. Let’s sit outside by the pool,” suggested Jada.

“Sure.”

Wellington’s Olympic-size pool resembled the number zero on a football jersey. The elevated oval-shaped hot tub—with four diving boards—could accommodate eight people.

It was close to eleven o’clock and closer to one hundred degrees. Jada swooped up her damp hair, wrapped it in a ball, and tucked the ends for security. She looked directly into Melanie’s piercing eyes.” So what’s the real reason you’re here?”

Melanie proceeded to say grace and picked up her fork.” That depends.”

Jada almost choked.”
On?”

“Are you insecure?” Melanie stayed unruffled.” Don’t answer that. I’m just kidding. Loosen up. With a man as fine as Wellington, I
do
understand. Mrs. Jones is my godmother. We hadn’t seen one another in several years. She invited. I accepted.”

Melanie must have graduated head of her class in charm school. After three bites of her omelet, her cherry-red lipstick hadn’t smudged. For jada, Friday could not come soon enough. Insecure? No. Concerned? Definitely.

Jada’s mama taught her how to love and treat a
man but she never taught her how to
find
a good man. Jada searched all her life for a man like Wellington. He was hers—
only time would tell
—forever.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Melanie dabbed the corner of her mouth with the white cloth napkin.

“Valentine’s Day next year. Since it falls on a Saturday, and Wellington is my soulmate, timing couldn’t be better.”

“One day I want to get married and have two children, maybe three, but living in D.C. makes it a challenge.”

“Why?”

“Because most D.C. men want to unwrap the package, use it, and then return it—not for a refund—for an exchange. They move from woman to woman, like it’s open season year-round. You open. They season. You can get Classic seasoning, Charley seasoning, and if you really want some old spice, you can get yourself some Channel seasoning.”

Jada laughed so hard it hurt. Her hands held her stomach. A cute laugh bellowed from Melanie as she stared directly into Jada’s mouth.

“Anyway, girl,” Melanie continued. “You’ve got a good man, and when you guys get married. I want to be in your wedding.”

“Really, girl!” Maybe Wellington was right. If she got to know Melanie, maybe she would like her.

“Yes! Really. My mother’s friend plans weddings for the rich and famous from D.C. to L.A. So I’ll be happy to assist you any way I can.”

“Thanks.” Jada paused. Looked into Melanie’s eyes.” Why do you keep staring at my mouth?”

“Because the way you speak reminds me of this
woman I went to college with. We were partying late one night in my apartment, when—” Melanie swiftly responded.

Jada thought she would sunburn before the story ended.” I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got errands.” She carried her plate inside. Melanie followed. Jada turned and noticed Melanie staring at her ass.

Melanie shifted her eyes.” I’m going to get dressed and go over to my godmommy’s house. I promised to water the plants and feed the tropical fish. Maybe we can get together before I leave. I want to shop and party ‘til I drop.”

“Sure, let’s do that, girl. Before you
leave.”

Jada strolled out the front door. Melanie walked into the kitchen and restored it to its original state of cleanliness. Thoughts of Wellington crept through her mind. Melanie went upstairs to Wellington’s bedroom, but she was not prepared for what she saw. Wellington was sound asleep on his back naked. His erection was fully extended.

Melanie boldly walked into Wellington’s bedroom and stood over him. She zoomed in closer. Wellington snored. Melanie took his penis into her hand and began to fantasize. Damn, he looked so good she could devour him in one gulp. Melanie wanted to experience Wellington for herself. Melanie concluded she would give Jada all the help she wanted but none of what she needed. Wellington was the man for her. Melanie decided there was no need to make a return visit to San Francisco. She simply wouldn’t leave.

Jada Diamond Tanner came across classy and confident. Whenever she became insecure, she masked. Growing up with dark skin hadn’t been easy. It wasn’t until tenth grade that she became popular. The birthday makeover that Henry Morgan and Ruby Denise Tanner surprised her with increased her self-esteem. Prom queen, college queen, she was exquisite. She could have any man she wanted but she was in search of her soulmate. Jada believed her search had ended the night she met Wellington Jones …

Life for Wellington Jones had been predominantly mapped from day one. The private schools he attended. The long-term buddies he had. The career he chose. He believed he was in control but nothing happened in Wellington’s life unless his mother, Cynthia, deemed it.

Cynthia Elaine Jones controlled everything and everyone around her. She knew one day she’d have to account for her wrongdoings. Until then, the show must go on. Her dance with the devil would last longer than she’d anticipated. The only person she truly adored was Melanie. Melanie was the one child she’d wanted but couldn’t bear.

For Melanie Marie Thompson, life was never a dull moment. Money. Sex. Men. Sex. Women. Sex. There was nothing in her life she wanted to do and didn’t. Life was great but she knew her biological clock was ticking. She wanted a family. She wanted Wellington Jones.

J
ada reflected on the commencement of her relationship with Wellington. It was like a dream come true.

Her impromptu decision to paint the town red that night—the night she met her soulmate—had been the best she’d made in years. It was a hot Friday, Indian summer night. One of the few she could enjoy in San Francisco without needing to wear a jacket. This time Jada concluded a bird in the hand wasn’t better than two in the bush. Maybe she’d get lucky. Perhaps Mr. Right wouldn’t end up Mr. Right Now. Her workday was about to end and party time was getting ready to begin.”

Jada, Candice is on line one,” said Karen.”

Thanks. I’ll take the call.” Jada propped the phone between her shoulder and ear. She casually fumbled through her purse.” Hey, girl. I have my car keys in hand. What’s up?”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Going to dinner with Darryl. He made eight o’clock dinner reservations at Cityscape Skylyne. You know the restaurant on the fortieth floor of the Cityscape Hotel.” Jada jingled her keys.

“You mean Mr. Darryl, NBA, sexy-as-he-wanna-be Williams?” Candice’s voice raised five octaves.

Jada looked at the small gold and crystal clock on her maplewood desk. It was five o’clock. The salad she’d bought for lunch sat in the miniature refrigerator in her office. ‘Yeah, that’s the one.”

Jada sat at her desk and flipped through the photos from her prior day’s shoot. Candice thought Darryl was fine, but the pictures of the guy spread in front of her face were sinful.

“Girl, he has a body to die for and you know it.” Candice whispered like she’d just told a secret.

“I can picture him now,” she continued at a normal tone.” Six-nine with his spicy golden complexion. Handsome. Suave. Debonair. I thought you stopped going out with him last year.” Candice must have been born a flirt. She drew attention even when she wasn’t trying. Her get-back booty demanded at least three feet of space.

“How many times do I have to explain? Darryl is on my
Active Reserve
list. Write the categories down this time, Candice. There’s Active, Active Reserve, Inactive Reserve, and Inactive. Besides, Darryl’s still the best fuck I’ve had on the West Coast.” Darryl had been on Jada’s Active Reserve list since twelfth grade.

Women practically threw themselves at Darryl’s feet. The panties and the pussy flew so fast he had to wear two catcher’s mitts. Candice was right. Darryl was handsome and the fact that he was a
multimillionaire didn’t hurt. His mother was African American. His father was Native American. Darryl’s ponytail was kohl black and wavy. The two-carat diamond earring in his left ear turned Jada on. She liked a taste of
bad boy
in her men. She avoided rich boring men like the plague. Jada loved Darryl’s gray eyes, long curly eyelashes, and well-defined cheekbones.

“Well, I can’t fuck you,” replied Candice.” But if you’re interested, I’ve got two tickets to see Will Downing, Rachelle Ferrell, Gerald Albright, and Kenny Latimore at Top of the City Jazz and Supper Club. The show starts at eight.”