“Come here,” he said, after she’d finished. He lifted her gently, effortlessly, from the couch and walked into the bedroom. He tenderly placed her on the bed and began removing her shoes.
“What are you doing?” Millicent began.
“I’m just going to help you relax,” Jack said.
“Really, Jack, I should probably go back to my room,” Millicent said, although leaving Jack is the last thing she wanted to do.
“Only if I come with you; I don’t want you to be alone tonight.” Jack didn’t want to be alone either, but that was beside the point.
Jack encouraged Millicent to lay back and began massaging her feet. Millicent was tense at first but with Jack’s expert ministrations, relaxed quickly. She felt his hands on her calves, her thighs…. This feels good, she thought. And then she fell asleep.
When she awoke, it was to a pair of loving, crystal blue eyes looking down at her. Jack was slowly, lazily, brushing up and down her arm with one finger. It took her a moment to realize she was naked, and another one to realize it felt perfectly right. She’d bared her soul to Jack the night before. In comparison, baring her body was easy.
“What happened to my clothes?” she asked timidly.
“I took them off,” Jack replied.
“Obviously,” Millicent said, suddenly self-conscious. “But why?”
“Didn’t want them to get wrinkled,” he said matter-of-factly. “Plus, I remembered that you sleep in the nude. And so, since you were sleeping…” He smiled an impish, boyish smile.
Millicent tingled. “I don’t know whether to thank you or slap you for being insolent,” she said, trying to sound stern. Just then, a thought came to her. She reached under the sheets. As she’d suspected, Jack was naked. “You’re nude, too!” she exclaimed, this time with real righteous indignation.
“You never asked,” he said calmly. “But I, too, sleep in the raw.”
Jack continued to caress Millicent’s arm, shoulder, face. A part of Millicent felt she should stop him. This was her pastor, after all. They were friends, friends. They hadn’t even gone on a date! But another part of her, particularly the lower part of her body, wanted him to continue. It had been so long since she’d been loved. Her practical, sound mind was fighting a losing battle with her pulsating pussy and humming heart. She tried to summon some will, some anger, but with Jack drawing lazy circles around her taut nipple, it was very hard to do.
Jack kissed her. His lips were soft, tongue strong. He plundered her mouth with raw passion, his hands aching to explore every inch of her. But he refrained.
Millicent kissed him back. Jack’s passion became her own, their tongues swirling, arms entwined. Jack’s workouts were evident as Millicent rubbed his large, hard chest. She placed a leg over his, silently consenting to the moment. It was almost Jack’s undoing.
“Let me love you, Millicent,” he said, even as a scripture popped into his head. Behold, old things are passed away. All things become new. It was as if God were talking to him. “Yes,” he said, and then to Millicent, “let me make you new.”
Millicent simply nodded and reached for him. It was all the encouragement Jack needed. He kissed a trail from her mouth to her breasts, feasting upon each one, even as his finger found her soft nether lips, and began its exploration. Millicent moaned, her hands beginning a journey of their own. She paused when she reached his manhood, balls big and heavy, shaft long and thick. Oh, goodness, she thought, a smile on her lips.
Goodness gracious, Jack thought, as he cupped Millicent’s slender, tight bottom, pressing her up against his hard rod. He was ready to plunge into Millicent’s wetness with abandon, but not yet. First, he wanted to savor every square inch of her honeyed sweetness. With that thought in mind, he started at her toes, blowing and sucking first the big toe, then the rest, and worked his way up.
The sunlight kissed Millicent’s skin, waking her. She stretched, her hand hitting Jack’s rock solid form. For a split second she was confused, and then she remembered. Her sore yet sated body was further testament. She hadn’t been dreaming; she’d spent the night, all night, making love to Theodore Jackson Kirtz.
She turned to face him and softly touched his forehead, pushing his tousled grayish blond curls away from his brow. Jack’s eyes fluttered, then opened.
“Good morning,” Millicent said, her voice shy, tentative.
Jack kissed her lightly. “Good morning,” he replied. He pulled her close.
“Thanks for last night,” Millicent began. “For everything: saving me from a scene with Hope and Cy, bringing me here, loving me….”
Jack touched Millicent’s mouth softly with his finger. “There’s no thanks necessary,” he said tenderly. “It is what a bridegroom does for his bride.”
Millicent turned to look at him, the question in her eyes.
“Yes, darling,” Jack said, answering the unasked. “I fully intend to make an honest woman out of you. And, no, this is not the proposal. I know you well enough to know that I’ll have to…how do the kids say…come correct?”
Millicent laughed at his slang. How had she even for a moment thought to pass on this blessing? Her thoughts drifted to the night before, how Jack had made love to her. He’d been tender yet thorough, with a passion she’d never before witnessed. But it hadn’t simply been physical; she’d felt their minds and their souls connect, as well as their bodies. She had felt the oneness of sacred sex.
“Last night was amazing,” Millicent said softly. “The way you made me feel. It was incredible, so wonderful, so right, like, like…” Millicent searched for the word.
“Like love, like hallelujah,” Jack whispered, completing the sentence and hugging her tighter.
“Yes,” Millicent agreed, hugging him back. Hallelujah was the perfect word. Millicent stared upward, toward heaven, and thanked God for Love.
There’s more scandal on the way…
Don’t miss
Reverend Feelgood
Coming in February 2010 from Dafina Books
1
Generations
Nate Thicke yawned, casually stretched his six-foot-three-inch frame, and gave the woman beside him a kiss on the forehead before getting out of bed. He strolled from the king-sized bed to the master bath in all his naked glory. At twenty-eight, he was in the best shape of his life, thanks to a mindful diet and the recent addition of a personal trainer to his church’s official staff.
His administrative assistant and the woman in his bed, Ms. Katherine Noble, admired his plump, hard backside and long, strong legs as he left the room. She especially loved how his dark brown, blemish-free skin glistened with the fine sheen of sweat that had resulted from their lovemaking. They’d been lovers for a long time, and while she knew their relationship would never be more than that, had known from the beginning, she had fallen in love with him, anyway. Even though she knew the day would come when he would take a wife and start a family. Even as she hoped he could continue to be her spiritual covering, her sexual satisfaction, as both his father and grandfather before him had been. Katherine had been a Thicke woman for generations.
Katherine rose and walked to a floor-length mirror that occupied a corner of the elegantly decorated bedroom, the black, tan, and deep purple color scheme her design. She eyed herself objectively, critically, turning this way and that. At fifty-three, her body still held its firmness, her butterscotch skin still smooth and supple. The stretch marks from her single pregnancy thirty-two years ago were long gone, rubbed away with cocoa butter and the luck of excellent genes. She tossed her shoulder-length hair away from her face and brought her image closer to the mirror. The fine crow’s feet around her eyes and on her forehead were deepening slightly, she noticed, and she detected a puffiness that hadn’t been there five years ago. There was a slight sag to her chin, and even though she’d been the same weight for twenty-five years, it looked as if her cheeks were sunken, hollow, and not in a good way. These imperfections were not noticeable to the ave
rage looker. Most people who saw Katherine either admired or envied her for the attractive woman she was.
She turned to the side and continued her perusal, a frown accompanying her critique. Her butt had never been big, but it had always been firm. Not now. Now it hung loose and soft, like a deflated balloon, obeying the gravity that she tried to defy. A discernible dimpling of unwanted cellulite challenged her vow not to age. She cupped her cheeks, pushed them up, and thought about butt implants.
“Get out of the mirror. You’re still fine.” Nate walked from the bathroom into his massive closet and began to dress.
“I’m sure you say that to all your women,” Katherine responded, without rancor. “But even if you’re lying, it sure sounds good.”
Thirty minutes later, a showered and dressed Katherine sat across the desk from Nate in his roomy, masculine home office. She looked the epitome of decorum in her black skirt, which hung below the knee, and pink-and-black-polka-dotted blouse with a frilly lace collar that tickled her chin. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, and black, rectangular reading glasses sat perched on her nose. Anyone entering would see a scene of utmost respectability.
The “matronly” older woman who had known Nate since he was born, Katherine had been considered the perfect choice as his assistant when he became senior pastor four years ago, the perfect barrier between him and all the young, single female members who clamored for his “counsel.” Her position was the perfect cover for their ongoing liaison. No one ever questioned why she was in his home; no one guessed that she spent as much time in his bedroom as she did in his office. Of course, Nate’s residence in a gated and guarded community was beneficial as well—few eyes could pry.
“You had something you wanted to discuss with me?” Katherine asked after Nate had finished a call with a church deacon.
“Yes,” he answered.
Katherine waited. In bed, at first, she had been the teacher, he the student. She had been the older woman, he the enthralled teenager. She’d been in control. But those roles had reversed a long time ago. Now he was her boss, and the more experienced lover. He was now clearly in control. So now, even though she could tell that his mind was in turmoil, she didn’t push, but waited until he was ready to speak.
Nate cleared his throat and began toying with a paperweight on his desk. It wasn’t so much that he was getting ready to talk with Katherine about what God had told him; often she’d been a sounding board. It’s just that this time he wasn’t sure how she’d react to what he had to say.
“The Lord has spoken to me,” he began in a tone of authority. “He has given me confirmation on who’s to be my wife.”
Katherine let out the breath she’d been holding. Is that all? she thought. At once, she quelled the surge of jealousy that rose to the surface, determined not to deny this woman what she knew she could never have, Nate’s hand in marriage. It was why she’d denied her own feelings when Nate came to her four years ago and said he’d been led to become Simone’s biblical covering. How could she protest his decision to have sex with her daughter? Katherine, along with the older Thicke men, had been Nate’s mentors, his example, encouraging him to indulge his conjugal rights as a spiritual leader in their church. That’s how he had wound up in her bed. And now, this is how she would always have a key to his home…as his mother-in-law.
Katherine was certain of God’s message to Nate that Simone was to be his wife. After all, she was perfect. The two were good friends, had practically grown up together. At thirty-two, Simone had never been married and had only one child. Like her mother, Simone was a stunner, the family’s Creole blood prominent in her features. Three inches taller than Katherine’s five foot six, Simone had beautiful hazel eyes, a full, pouty mouth, large breasts, and long, black hair. She was educated and cultured, perfect “first lady” material for a prominent, up-and-coming minister. And, to top all this off, Simone had the voice of an angel. Beyoncé, Rihanna, Mariah: these younger women had nothing on her daughter, either in looks or voice. This is what she’d envisioned on that first night when she knew Nate and Simone were sleeping together, when she had to make room for her daughter in her pastor’s crowded bed. And now her dream was coming true!
She reached over and placed her hand over Nate’s. “Don’t worry, Nathaniel. I knew this day would come. Everything is going to be fine, trust me. Simone is going to make a beautiful bride and a fabulous wife.”
Nate’s dark brown eyes met Katherine’s hazel-green ones. He forced himself not to squirm or break the stare. He had heard from God, and knew in his heart that his decision was right. For the first time since walking into the office, he blessed his longtime lover with a dazzling smile of straight, white teeth set against skin so dark and creamy smooth, one wanted to lick it.
“Katherine, you’re right, as usual. The woman God has chosen for me will make an excellent wife and be the perfect first lady. But it isn’t Simone.”
Katherine snatched back her hand, stunned into silence. Within seconds, however, she found her voice. “Well, uh, I mean, who could it be, if not my daughter? There’s nobody in our congregation who compares to her!”
Katherine thought back to Nate’s busy schedule, and the increasing amount of time he spent ministering in other churches.
“Oh, my God, that’s it. You’ve found someone outside of Palestine. Is it someone from Mount Zion Progressive, or one of those silicone-injected, weave-wearing minister chasers in LA?”
Katherine stood and walked to the window behind Nate’s desk. And then she stopped, put her hands on her hips, and swirled his chair until he faced her. “You know I respect your anointing. I’ve never questioned your ability to hear God’s voice. But, Nathaniel, I have to question it now. I’m positive that Simone is the woman you should marry.”
“And I’m positive that it’s her daughter, Destiny. Katherine, your granddaughter is the one who will be my wife.”
Don’t miss Lutishia Lovely’s
A Preacher’s Passion
Available now wherever books are sold!
1
Is That You?
People say Passion was fast from the womb. That when she heard men talking, she’d make a motion in her mother’s belly that felt like a tickle. When she heard women, her mother got gas. Even before Passion was born, she decided that men were to be loved; women, tolerated.
She had one real girlfriend growing up, Robin Cook. They got along like two peas in a pod from the moment they met at Martin Luther King Jr. Elementary School in Atlanta, Georgia. For one, they were big tomboys, bigger than most girls their age. For another, they both hated their female classmates and constantly baked up evil schemes to right some imagined wrong done to them. Whether it was putting cayenne pepper in a girl’s food, glue on her seat, or beating somebody up at recess, they were always getting into trouble, and usually together. But Passion and her family moved from Georgia to California when she was fifteen years old. She hadn’t seen Robin since.
Passion sat in her living room, flipping through an Essence magazine and watching the MLM channel, a new, progressive, Black-owned network that was finally giving BET some competition. A minister, Derrick Montgomery, was speaking at a convention hosted by a group called Total Truth. Passion decided he looked as good on TV as he did in person. That man is fine forever, she thought, as she turned up the volume.
Passion wasn’t a member of Montgomery’s church, Kingdom Citizens’ Christian Center, but the church she belonged to, Logos Word Interdenominational, fellowshipped with KCCC often. Passion loved Pastor Montgomery’s fiery style, not to mention the way his body blessed a designer suit. She could always expect a good word plus some men worth watching when she visited Kingdom Citizens, and was one of many who’d visualized Pastor Montgomery sans suit or wife. Either him or Darius Crenshaw, KCCC’s hot minister of music whose latest hit, “Possible,” had spent months at the top of both gospel and secular charts. Pastor Montgomery was fine, but Darius could sing, play several instruments,
and looked like “thank you, Jesus.” Add the fact that he was single, and as far as she knew, available, and he was the obvious choice.
For all her salacious wonderings, Passion couldn’t see herself actually sleeping with Pastor Derrick or anybody else’s husband. She admired Pastor Montgomery’s wife, Vivian, who was good friends with her first lady, Carla Lee. Even after news broke that Pastor Montgomery had an older son from a previous relationship, a son he supposedly knew nothing about until two years ago, his and Vivian’s marriage remained strong. Word had it that the boy was even living with them now and playing basketball at UCLA. No, Passion would never act out inappropriately with Pastor Derrick. Well, other than the lusting in her heart for which she was already guilty. She’d probably not send love notes or nude pics to Darius Crenshaw either. But he was definitely daydream material.
An hour after the television program went off, Passion pulled into her favorite strip mall. It housed an inexpensive clothing shop, video store, nail salon, Chinese food restaurant, and the reason for her trip, Gold’s Pawn Shop. Passion loved this store. Pawning had kept her lights, gas, or phone on many times right after her divorce, when she’d been struggling to raise her newborn daughter. She’d pawn gold, diamonds, anything she could to make it to payday. She prided herself on the fact that she always bought back her stuff and in the process would sometimes find a couple bargains, enough to where she continued to make regular visits even after her finances improved.
She stepped inside the store. As she’d expected for the middle of the day, it was quiet. Lin, the Korean owner, was behind the counter, helping his one, lone customer.
“Hey, Lin,” Passion said cheerfully.
“Hey, Passion,” Lin said. “What you buy today? I got tennis bracelet you like—just came yesterday.”
“How much you want for it?” Passion asked. “I might be interested if you give me a good deal.”
“I give you very good deal,” Lin said. He unlocked the showcase and pulled out a bracelet set with tiny diamonds, effectively shown off in a black, faux-velvet case.
Love Like Hallelujah Page 26
