thoughts of Jamison Cox. It was strange how being in his presence was like being swaddled in a warm, soft blanket. I let the possibility of us being soul mates sit in my mind just so that I could deconstruct it.
After Jamison had been exposed as a conspirator against my brother’s political campaign, he never got in touch with me. Granted, I’d lost my cell phone while vacationing in Borneo, but I still had email, and the address was on the contact sheet. My ex-boyfriend, Dale Rumor, had torched my heart by being a selfish prick. But although I’d been with Dale longer, the break between me and Jamison hurt more.
Jamison was supposed to be the good guy, my first healthy pick. And that one night he and I spent together had been out-of-this-world amazing. I’d put a lot of effort into trying to forget the details of our lovemaking. My breasts tingled as I recalled how his wet, warm tongue rubbed the tips of my nipples. Jamison wasn’t an overeager or coarse lover. His mouth, body, and movements had been soft and sensual. I recalled how he savored his way down from my mouth to my ribs then sank his tongue into my belly button. My back had curled, my body tense with novel sexual pleasure, and I nearly fainted when his wet, warm mouth devoured my pussy, bringing me to the most potent orgasm I’d ever experienced. Dale hadn’t known how to eat pussy. Jamison had.
Gosh, he was good in bed. Or maybe it was our chemistry that took our lovemaking to a level that was beyond our universe. Sexual attraction wasn’t our only bond, though we weren’t an obvious match. I was carefree, and he was conservative, at least in appearance. Our connection was emotional. On the one and only night we made love, when he wasn’t inside me, we lay shoulder to shoulder and talked.
“What makes you tick?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to figure that out from the day we met.”
I chuckled, feeling buoyant. “Are you referring to the day we formally met?”
“When did we informally meet?”
“On your wedding day.” Then I twisted my mouth thoughtfully. “I guess I met you. You didn’t meet me.”
He chortled. “Then yes, I meant when we met at the restaurant, which might be the best day of my life.”
We stared into each other’s eyes again. I agreed. That had probably been one of the best days of my life too. Lighthearted, I pondered his question. What makes me tick?
“In regard to your initial question, I’m still trying to figure that out,” I said.
After a long pause, he whispered, “Me too.”
Our confessions were our first dive into the well of emotional trust. We talked about money and how having a lot of it had never brought either of us true happiness. I revealed how lonely I’d felt growing up with Amelia Christmas as a mother. He shared that after all these years, he was trying to figure out what sort of person his mother truly was, but he never said more than that about her. I talked about all the schools I’d been kicked out of. He was a straight-A student and high school valedictorian. I shared that when my father would dispatch me to do my Christmas-daughter duties by showing up to some silly event attended by ladies and daughters who lunched, I would pretend to have an accent that came from no particular country. Jamison found that very funny. As night turned to morning, we made love once more. When he left, we planned on seeing each other soon at the campaign office. Of course, that had never happened. But even after learning of Jamison’s betrayal, I’d wondered if he was the soul mate who got away.
“Hi,” the flight attendant said cheerily.
I opened my eyes and stopped smiling as if I was high on good drugs. “Um, yes.” I shifted in my seat. I must have looked ridiculous.
He served me the cappuccino I’d ordered before takeoff and gave the girl next to me, who hadn’t taken her eyes off her phone, another Coke.
After a quiet sigh, I decided not to think about Jamison Cox ever again. Instead, I focused on the lovely wedding weekend that had just passed. My twin brother, Asher, was now the husband of intimidatingly sexy Dr. Penina Ross. I never could picture him having a wife. I couldn't picture myself as any man’s blushing bride either. Despite trying so hard to have healthier relationships,