by Afton Locke
She truly loved this man. What she’d felt and confessed in the shed had been a weak substitute for love. This was real. And pleasure. Dear God, she never dreamed another human being could bring such joy to her body. He made every inch of her want to get up and sing.
A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. Let me be what he deserves someday.
When he inserted a strong finger into her swelling pussy, stretching her nerve endings to the breaking point, she moaned.
“We haven’t got time,” she said, stumbling for breath.
He wiggled his finger from side to side, making her limbs thrash against the big bed. “We have time for this.”
His tongue, wet with her juices, bathed her clitoris from every angle. He poked it, flicked it and sucked it until she thought she would lose her mind. His finger, hot from resting inside her searing channel, slid out, heating the sensitive skin around it even more. Because the stockings covered her legs, every sensation centered in her core.
Despite how good it felt, she needed more. “Bite it.”
He paused. “Are you sure?”
She thrust herself against his face. “Yes. I need your teeth on my pussy now.”
He sucked her folds between his teeth, nibbling gently at first and then harder. The pressure of the hard enamel against her swollen nerves made the breath rasp in her throat.
“Yes!” She shouted, forgetting she could be heard, then lowered her voice. “Oh God, yes. Harder.”
Rose clutched the pillow around her head as if it were a life preserver. She’d lost complete control of her lower body. It was Leroy’s. All of her was Leroy’s, at least for tonight. Tomorrow didn’t exist. A gentle bite on her swollen clitoris nearly undid her. Then his finger thrust inside her with a grinding rhythm that reminded her of last night’s dance.
Her back arched when she came in shudders that pounded the massive bed. Leroy opened his mouth against her as if to drink her waves of pleasure. After he pulled away, he wasted no time. Before she knew it, his sheathed cock pushed between her legs and deep into her pussy. The remaining tremors of her orgasm squeezed his erection, making it feel even bigger inside her.
She wrapped her arms around his back and her legs around his powerful hips. Whatever walls she had built between them tumbled down with each loving stroke as Leroy rocked her body.
I’m yours. I promise. Marriage still scares me to death, but we’ll figure something out when we get home.
But her mouth hung slack, unable to form the words she needed to say. The magic of their bodies made speech impossible. And the last thing she wanted to do was get his hopes up unless she was sure. Instead, she said it in the way she caressed his hair and put tiny kisses all over his face. And the way she opened herself completely to him.
His face contorted while his thrusts grew fast and shallow. Then he gasped, beads of perspiration popping out on his forehead. Invariably realizing she hadn’t climaxed yet, he gritted his teeth and thrust again. Hard. He was still wonderfully hard for her.
“So close,” she muttered, her hips dancing as her second release approached.
He thrust again and again. The bed rocked against the wall or was it thunder? Her nails speared into his back when her hips surged against his. A primitive moan filled the room while spasms of exquisite pleasure squeezed the breath out of her. This climax was even harder than the first.
She descended the height much more quickly than she’d climbed it. Shaky hands caressed Leroy’s sweating face. All her self-restraint had just shattered when she’d come. Before he left this room, he had to at least know how she felt about him.
“Yes, Leroy. Yes!”
He kissed her cheek. “I knew it would be good in this fancy bed.”
“No. I mean I love you and yes, maybe we—”
Before she could finish, a piercing sound split the room in half. Was it her? No. She’d already moaned her pleasure. Opening her eyes, she looked over Leroy’s shoulder.
And saw Mary’s chalk-white face, her mouth gaping wide as she screamed.
Leroy winced when a small vase shattered against the back of his head.
“Mary, stop!” Rose yelled. “It’s all right. He’s not hurting me.”
Aw, hell! How could this have happened? The girl wasn’t due upstairs until eleven. For God’s sake. His cock was still inside Rose’s cunt. He fumbled for the sheet and yanked it over their bodies so he could pull out of Rose.
“I’m really sorry about this,” he said to Mary. “If you could hand me my trousers, I’ll just get dressed and be on my way.”
The girl threw them at him. A moment later, the door closed.
“She’s gone,” he said.
“This is just terrible!” Rose’s limbs shook as she got out of bed. She reached for her discarded evening gown, which resembled a dead rose on the floor, and draped it around her. Then she bit her bottom lip until it bled.
Leroy scrambled into his clothes, cursing himself under his breath, his heart pounding into his throat. Of all the foolish ideas! Why did he have to insist on fucking Rose in this fancy white hotel bed? They belonged at the jazz club, banging against the brick wall.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” she said, echoing his thoughts. “The bed was too soft anyway.”
Rose had been about to tell him something important at the end. Maybe she’d finally come to her senses. But why? He’d never know now. There was no telling what that scared white girl would do. Any minute, the door could break down and some official would cart him off to jail.
“You have to get out of here,” Rose said. “She’ll come back and she’s afraid of you.”
Leroy grimaced. “So I noticed.”
She handed him one of the keys lying on top of the dresser and herded him toward the door. “Go wait in Mrs. Carter’s vacant room next door until I figure out what’s going on.”
“I imagine the two of you will head back to Oyster Island on tomorrow’s steamboat. So will I, but I’ll stay out of sight.”
“I’ll let you know when I know for sure,” she said.
He raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “Rose, I sure am sorry about this.”
“So am I.”
Leroy trudged into the other room and left the lights off. Fancy beds had caused enough trouble tonight so he sat on the floor with his back to the wall. The scent of Mrs. Carter’s powder lingered in the air as though it were disapproval. His hands fidgeted in his lap while he listened to water moving through pipes and footsteps of guests passing through the hall. How he wished he were back in Pearl Point right now.
If only he weren’t so helpless. At the very moment he had Rose in his grip, he lost her forever. But he couldn’t think of that now. There might be more at stake from this escapade than lost love.
The gray light of dawn filled the room when Leroy opened his eyes. Despite his vow not to, he must have eventually dozed off. Rose entered the room and grabbed his arm.
“She never came back,” she whispered, kneeling beside him.
He wiped the sleep out of his eyes. “What? Where did she go?”
Rose’s face crumpled as she put her hand over her mouth. “I don’t know. She left her things behind. I’m so worried.”
Although part of Leroy was relieved no authorities had come for him during the night, he didn’t like this turn of events much better. He wanted the comfort of knowing the girl wouldn’t talk about what she’d seen.
“If something happened to her afterward—” he thought aloud.
Rose stood. “Wait here. I’m going to ask the hotel staff if they’ve seen her.”
An eternity later, she brought up breakfast on a tray. How could she think of food at a time like this?
“Well?” he asked. “What did you find out?”
Rose looked especially pale. “That creepy bellhop told me she hired a driver and left last night.”
Leroy picked up a biscuit and crumbled it to bits in his hands. “I wonder what she told everyone when
she got back.”
Rose sipped a bit of coffee. “Probably nothing, but I intend to find out.”
He stood. “Let’s get out of this hotel. We’ll wait for the steamboat at the dock.”
She nodded. “I’ve already packed my things and Mary’s.”
Several hours later, the steamboat chugged across the Patuxent River. It had been the longest ride in Leroy’s life. This time he didn’t watch the side wheel churning through the water or eat the chicken dinner despite how good it smelled. He just wanted to get home.
From this distance, the people on Oyster Island looked as tiny as ants. Several of them gathered, but that was nothing unusual. The dock was always a busy place, full of travelers and businessmen.
He stood just near enough to Rose to keep her demure white blouse and black skirt in sight. It wouldn’t do for people to notice they traveled together. As he watched the wind whipping her short hair around her face, he knew he’d lost her.
His gaze moved from Rose to the shore. The people were bigger now. Sick fear exploded in his stomach. It looked as if the entire Klan was there, dressed in full regalia. Rose’s face was almost as white as their sheets when she turned to glance at him in horror.
“There he is!” One of them pointed a finger at him. “That’s the man who raped the mayor’s daughter.”
Aw, hell.
“Saves us the trouble of going to Baltimore to search for him,” someone else said.
Jonathan Carter stepped in front of the rest. “Let’s hang him!”
Aw, holy hell.
Leroy swallowed hard, holding back the deep trembling that began in his bones and rippled to his skin. The throb of the engine, along with the smell of engine oil and sea salt, twisted his gut with queasiness. Rose cried out and sank to her knees on the deck. He’d warned her so many times she played with fire by pretending to be white. If she’d only listened. He’d do anything to spare her this pain.
But to him, this was the price he had to pay for their forbidden love. He’d once told her he’d lay his life down for her and he’d meant it.
Chapter Eighteen
When Leroy disembarked from the steamboat, Rose followed close behind, gripping a handful of his white shirt and not caring who saw it. As soon as their feet touched the pier, the crowd snatched him out of her grasp. He dropped the luggage he carried.
“No!” The word screamed inside her body, rattling her bones and shattering every cell, but her lips froze. This couldn’t be happening.
Her eyes, blurred with a glaze of tears, scanned the crowd. It looked as if everyone from Oyster Island was here waiting for Leroy, but why? Why in the world did they think he raped Mary?
Wilma Johnson broke from the pack, grabbing her son and holding him close.
“I won’t lose you too,” she cried.
His sister held her hands, prayer-like, under a face wet with tears.
As soon as the white men snatched Leroy out of his mother’s arms, Wilma threw Rose a look of pure hatred. I know this is all your fault, it said.
Her skin went as cold as a clammy oyster despite the warm breeze. Boats in the harbor danced on their ropes while they bobbed in the water, making her stomach feel the same way. The rhythmic sound of water slapping the hulls reminded her of a funeral dirge. She couldn’t see any dead fish, but the ripe scent told her one was nearby.
While someone in a Klan uniform snapped handcuffs around Leroy’s wrists, Rose found herself face-to-face with Jonathan Carter.
“Are you all right, Rose?” he asked.
Her lips were still frozen and her knees almost buckled as the white uniform blurred before her eyes. How could she ever have lifted a brush to paint this man?
“Y-yes,” she managed to utter, “but there has to be some mistake. Leroy is innocent.”
“That’s not what Mary said when she came home.”
Rose clutched her throbbing head. What did Mary say? It must have been awful, whatever it was. Why would her friend betray her this way?
“Caleb, do something. He’s my family,” a woman said in a high, quavering voice.
“You shouldn’t even be here in your condition,” the man replied.
Hearing familiar voices, Rose turned to see Pearl wringing her hands and then clutching her husband’s arms.
He shook his head. “I thought we could escape this hatred in Pearl Point. I see I was wrong.”
“There’s a big tree in the square,” someone yelled. “Let’s hang him now!”
A tremendous pressure tightened around Rose’s chest, making it hard to breathe. The green grass below her feet glowed blue and the sky faded to brown, then black. When she came to, she felt a pair of arms under her back. Caleb’s blue eyes stared down at her.
“Rose, what happened?” he asked.
Pearl batted at the tears flowing from her eyes. “Surely my cousin didn’t rape that girl.”
“No, he didn’t,” Rose said, still finding it hard to talk. “He made love to me.”
After steadying her on her feet, Caleb marched up to the other men. “Now hold on just a minute. This is the twentieth century. The man is entitled to a fair trial.”
Mayor Carter squared his shoulders. “You don’t live in this town anymore, Rockfield.”
“If you murder that man, I’ll inform every newspaper in this country,” Caleb shot back.
A man with a Klan uniform half on and half off arrived out of breath. His hood sagged over one eye, leaving the rest of his face visible. Caleb turned to face him, hands on hips.
“Afternoon, brother,” he growled. “I was just telling these gentlemen Leroy deserves a trial. Isn’t that right? Or did you bring the rope?”
So much tension vibrated between the two men, everyone watched them. Was this really Caleb’s brother? How could he be in the Klan when Caleb had a colored wife? Nothing made sense today. Nothing.
Henry took off his hood and folded it over and over. “Gentlemen, w-wouldn’t a hanging be better if it was all legal like?”
“He has a point,” Mayor Carter said. “We could make a town picnic out of it.”
Rose swallowed hard against the bile that threatened to rise in her throat. Just before the men took him to the town jail, Leroy’s gaze met hers. There was no blame in it or even fear. Just love. Despite the fact he was about to lose his life because of her, he still loved her. The warmth of his gaze melted the frozen numbness. Tears streamed down her face and she didn’t care who saw them.
How much better off he’d be if he’d never met her.
A figure appeared from behind a tree when most of the crowd dispersed. As soon as Rose saw Cali’s drawn face, the warning the woman had given her hit her in the chest. If only she had listened.
“Cali, I’m so glad to see you. What’s going on?”
The other woman walked toward the school and Rose followed.
“I mean to ask you the same thing,” the other woman replied. “Mary came home in a real bad way.”
The memory of Mary’s piercing scream still filled her ears. She and Leroy shouldn’t have done such a daring thing, making love in that hotel bed.
“She was upset when she found me and Leroy in bed together,” Rose admitted. “She’s always been afraid of him.”
“Is that all that happened?”
Rose nodded.
“From what I hear, that’s not what she said,” Cali said quietly.
Again, Mary’s betrayal stung her. To think she could actually be white and have white friends was ridiculous. She should never have taken such a dangerous gamble. Now Leroy would pay the price.
Rose’s hands curled into fists. “I have to talk to her. Is she at the school?”
Cali shook her head. “No, she’s home in bed.”
“Then that’s where I’m going.”
“The school is closed,” Cali said, “but come by afterward and we’ll pray to the spirits together. I expect that’s all we can do now.”
Rose nodded and touched her arm.
At least she knew now who her real friend was. When she arrived at the mayor’s home, birds chirped in the trees as if this were any normal day. As if the man she loved weren’t about to die. The same butler met her at the door, reminding her of the summer dance, the first time she’d pretended to be white.
Everything had been her father’s idea. Well, she was done listening to him now.
She waited in the parlor, scalding worry bathing her insides. In minutes, Mrs. Carter appeared. The woman’s usually pleasant face was pale and pinched. By the looks of her, she fully believed Mary’s lies.
“Rose, I’m glad you made it back safely.” The woman held out her hands. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Rose said cautiously, wondering how much Mary had told her about what she’d seen. “I came to visit her.”
“She’s been asking for you, but don’t stay too long. Her…ordeal has made her very tired.”
Yes, lying was tiring. Rose knew that from pretending to be white. With her heart thumping in her chest, she followed Mrs. Carter up the stairs and entered the room the woman pointed out.
“Mary?”
The girlish room, decorated in shades of pale blue and pink, contained so many dolls of various shapes and sizes it took a moment for Rose to find her. Then she noticed the lump in the canopy bed.
“Rose?”
The voice was a croak and two bloodshot blue eyes appeared above the bedcovers. Rose walked closer and gasped when she saw the purplish bruises on the girl’s face. Her top lip was swollen and cracked. With her heart beating even faster, Rose glanced at the nightstand beside the bed. A glass of water stood next to a bottle of pills.
Closed windows made the room stuffy and something acrid dominated the smell of perspiration. Fear? The girl she had known was not…this. If everyone assumed Leroy had done this to her, no wonder they were so angry. Something didn’t make sense here and she had to find out what it was.
“May I sit on the edge of the bed?” Rose asked.
“Please.” Mary adjusted herself to sit a little higher against the pillows.
