“Because I didn’t know you then,” she said reasonably. She went and sat down on the chaise longue, and Leo pulled the wheeled office chair from the desk and sat next to her. He had a feeling this might be a long story.
“I haven’t shown anyone my work,” she said shyly.
“Not even your sisters?” Leo asked softly.
“Especially not my sisters,” Meghan told him. “They’d recognize themselves in my stories. Although all three novels are historical, they’re also semibiographical. The main characters in each book have the spirits of my sisters. The first novel is about Lauren, the second about Mina and the third about Desiree. Of course, the stories are set during different historical periods, but they’re definitely about them.”
“I see,” Leo said. “And you believe that’s something to hide from your sisters because you think they’ll be angry that you wrote about them without their permission?”
“No, that’s not it. I just don’t want them to think I don’t respect them. That I would exploit them for monetary gain.”
“Therefore, you haven’t tried to publish the novels.”
“Right,” Meghan said. She met his eyes, hers bright with excitement. “Writing is cathartic for me. I have to do it or I don’t feel fulfilled. When I finish a novel, my first thought is not of accomplishment, but what I’m going to do next. I’m always working on something. I’m writing about a black woman now, who agreed to be a mail-order bride in the late 1850s to a wealthy rancher in Montana who passed for white. He fell in love with her and had to make a choice—marry her and give up the protective wall he’d built around himself because of the advantages he gained by passing for white in a white-ruled society, or give up the only woman he’d ever loved. The whole marriage scenario tells me I’m writing about Petra, who has an aversion to marriage.”
Leo smiled, fascinated. “Are you going to let me read your stories?”
Meghan stared at him, shocked he’d even ask. “I don’t think I’m ready for anyone to read them.”
“You’ve read mine,” Leo stated.
“Yes, but you published them. Anyone could read them. My stories are in files on my computer.”
“Did you back them up? You don’t want to lose them.”
* * *
“Yes, I backed them up,” she said, smiling because it was sweet of him to ask. Also, she was enjoying talking to a fellow writer. She’d been living in seclusion where her writing was concerned. It felt good to exchange views with another author.
“I’ll think about it,” she said. “But to me, my books are like my babies. I think they’re cute. However, someone else might think they’re ugly. It would devastate me if someone thought my babies weren’t pretty.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Leo countered. “You would eventually grow a thick skin like the rest of us dreamers who are compelled to put their hearts and souls out there for the public to judge.”
Meghan laughed, “We’re dreamers, huh?”
“What else would you call someone who keeps writing even though they’re not earning much? I read that only about three percent of writers are making a great living doing it, and the rest of them aren’t even making a salary equivalent to a part-time job at a fast-food joint. They’re dreamers—wishing and hoping that someone will finally notice their brilliance, and then they’re on their way!”
“Dreamers or not,” Meghan said, “I love them for sharing their souls with us. Books have always been my escape. I love to read them, and I love to write them.”
Leo rose and pulled her into his arms. “Thanks for sharing your secret with me. I love you even more now, realizing that you’re as big of a book nerd as I am.”
Meghan spontaneously kissed him for that. She was so happy to finally have someone in her life she could discuss books and writing with.
* * *
Leo felt himself hardening and broke off the kiss. “Babe, you’re turning me on. Unless you don’t mind postponing dinner awhile, we should cool it.”
Dreamy eyed in a way that told him she was turned on, too, Meghan shook her head. “Dinner can wait. I can’t.”
“Then maybe you ought to show me your bedroom,” Leo coolly suggested.
Meghan beckoned to him as she sashayed out of her office. Leo followed and began pulling off his shirt.
Her bedroom was spacious, with a queen-size sleigh bed made of cherrywood and the accompanying dresser and nightstands. The floor was a light-colored hardwood, and he noticed she had a huge walk-in closet and adjoining master bath. In line with her tastes, the room was sparse in the sense that the furnishings didn’t make the room feel crowded.
The covers on the bed had been pulled back. He smiled at that. She must have thought she was going to get lucky. Well, he didn’t want to disappoint her. He helpfully unzipped her dress. Underneath it she was wearing black lingerie. The lace pattern left little to the imagination. He tried not to salivate.
“Condoms?” she asked, making even that word sound sexy to his ears.
“You don’t have any?”
“No, I haven’t bought them in a very long time,” she told him. “No sex, no need for them.”
He didn’t ask her how long it had been since she’d been with another man. That wasn’t important to him. He was a modern guy who didn’t expect women to be celibate. That didn’t mean he wasn’t pleased she didn’t sleep around. He didn’t, either.
“Then I’ll have to go out to the car,” he said regretfully. “I put a few in the glove compartment, just in case.”
Meghan smiled. “I’ll put on something more comfortable while you’re gone.”
He looked down at her body in her lacy bra and panties. “You look pretty comfortable to me.”
“You’ll thank me later,” she said mysteriously.
Leo’s heart thudded excitedly. He put his shirt back on and turned to leave the room. “Be back in a hurry.”
“You do that,” Meghan said and headed to her closet to pull down a white box sitting on a shelf in there.
The dogs were glad to see Leo as he rushed through the house to the front door. He had to calm them down a bit before they would allow him to open the door. Finally, he was able to close the door behind him and jog down the front steps to his car.
An elderly gentleman was walking his Jack Russell terrier. He seemed very interested in Leo’s movements. In fact, he stopped on the sidewalk in front of Meghan’s house and called, “Hello there! You must be a friend of Meghan’s. I’m Dr. Leland Johnson. My wife and I live next door.”
He walked up to Leo and offered his hand. Leo, a little taken aback by the elderly guy’s temerity, shook his hand. Deciding to give tit for tat, he introduced himself with his credentials out front, too. “Hello, Dr. Johnson. I’m Dr. Wolfe. Yes, I’m a friend of Dr. Gaines’s.”
Leland Johnson nodded and said in pleasant tones, “Wonderful, wonderful. Mrs. Johnson and I look out for Meghan. A young woman living alone and all that. You understand.”
Yes, Leo understood and was suddenly thankful that Meghan had neighbors who kept their eyes open and cared about her well-being. “Absolutely,” he said. “You can’t be too careful. Well, I was just going to my car. It’s a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Johnson.”
“Same here, Dr. Wolfe,” Leland Johnson returned, and continued down the sidewalk with his energetic dog, who was pulling on the leash.
There was another attempt by the dogs to get him to play with them when he got back inside with the condoms tucked in his jeans pocket, but he deftly slipped past them.
In the bedroom, Meghan had dimmed the lights. When he walked in, though, she was nowhere in sight. “Meghan?”
The light in the closet came on and there, framed in the doorway, was Meghan, wearing a white, see-through robe and nothing else. She’d tied the sash as though she were interested in modesty. Leo smiled lasc
iviously. There was no way in hell she could look modest in that particular item of clothing. Her luscious body was plainly outlined beneath it. He felt emotional at that moment. As though he were the luckiest man alive.
Slowly, he loosened the sash at her waist and pulled the garment off her silken shoulders. “You’re a goddess,” he whispered.
Meghan smiled appreciatively. “I’m just a woman in love with a man, hoping that I please him.”
She moved into the circle of his arms and offered him her mouth. This kiss made a promise that what followed would be memorable.
Afterward, Leo shed his clothing right there in the closet and they fell to the thickly carpeted floor.
On their sides, they kissed hungrily and then Meghan straddled him and rolled the condom, which he’d had the presence of mind to get out of his pocket while he was doffing his jeans, onto his hard penis.
She was wet and ready for him. She positioned herself over him and gently impaled herself. Leo couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her eyes were closed as she exulted in the pleasure he was giving her. This knowledge made him even harder than he already was. The urgency to come grew. But he held on because he wanted to witness her face when she achieved the height of her pleasure. Mesmerized by her beautiful face, he thrust upward, his powerful leg muscles burning with the effort after a while. This, however, joined with the passion of the moment and enhanced his enjoyment.
Meghan moaned softly. Her eyes shot open and she met his gaze. “Why didn’t you get here sooner?” And she came, quivering with the release. Leo held her a moment, his eyes moist because she’d undone him with those words. Why hadn’t he gotten here sooner? Dear God, please inspire me to come up with a solution to my problem so I can have a future with this wonderful woman.
He carefully turned her over onto her back and made love to her until she cried out with another orgasm. Then he took his pleasure and they lay on the floor in the closet, their gazes locked, with satisfied smiles on their faces.
Chapter 13
“Okay, this is the last time we’re going to be together for a long time,” Lauren said, raising her glass of cranberry juice and Sprite in a toast to her sisters. “So let’s make this night count!”
They were in a bar that catered to young professionals in downtown Raleigh. It was loud and rowdy, but in a fun way. The music playing on the sound system was a mixture of hip-hop and contemporary rock.
“Let’s get the serious stuff out of the way before some of you get too drunk,” Meghan said. She was limiting herself to two glasses of white wine.
“What serious stuff?” Petra asked, tossing back a whiskey with ease. Desiree, who had earlier promised to take her shopping, had fulfilled that promise and now she was as trendy and fashionable as Desiree in a short dress, sexy, strappy sandals and a short denim jacket. She had her hair in two braids down her back.
“You know,” Meghan said. “Our ‘where are we now’ and ‘where do we want to go’ dreams thing we do whenever we’re all in one place. Are we working on our goals, ladies, and do we maybe have some new ones to add to the list?” She ended by giving Petra a meaningful glance.
Petra laughed, “Not you, too, baby sister.”
“Well, I don’t understand why you couldn’t give Chance a chance!” Meghan said, laughing, too.
“Oh, you’ve got jokes,” Petra said, eyes sparkling with humor. “I’ll tell you why I don’t want to get serious about Chance Youngblood. His family is astoundingly wealthy. His grandfather started out as a newspaperman and built the family publishing business into a multimedia empire. Chance was born rich. I don’t need a man with that kind of mind-set. I want someone who knows what it is to struggle and to have to fight for what he wants. A man like that might be able to keep up with me. Chance would expect to have everything his way. I would be a disappointment to him because I’m stubborn, independent and I don’t give a rat’s ass about living in luxury. I live in the jungle where there are no amenities. It wouldn’t work.”
“Point taken,” Meghan said. “Opposites attract, though. And you did say he was the best lover you ever had.”
“I can count on one hand the number of lovers I’ve had,” Petra said. “He hasn’t had much competition.”
“You like him,” Desiree stated with conviction.
“With a passion,” Mina put in. She was nursing a ginger ale. No alcohol for her since she was expecting.
“We saw the way you two were looking at each other,” Lauren said with a sigh. “When Colton looks at me like that, my clothes are off the moment we’re alone!”
Petra laughed. “I hate it when you gang up on me like this. But I’ll give you this much,” she said in an appeasing tone. “I’m leaning toward doing the show with Chance’s company. My research is coming along well, and I’m looking for more funding. The deal he’s offering is the answer to my prayers.”
“Then you’re going to be working closely with him,” Meghan pointed out.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything,” Petra said firmly. “I made the mistake of jumping into bed with him before I was aware of who he was. Now I’m...”
“Back up,” Desiree cried impatiently. “You mean he deceived you?”
“No, I’m not saying that,” Petra said. “I was in a bar in Manhattan having a drink because I was a little nervous about a meeting I had to go to the next morning. A meeting at which I was expected to impress a potential investor who might be funding my work if I hit a home run, and he sat down beside me. It was lust at first sight. We struck up a very suggestive conversation. Long story short, I liked him, I was lonely and the next thing I knew I was naked in his arms.”
“Whoa,” Meghan said, amazed. “That’s never happened to you before.”
“No,” Petra said. “And it’s never going to happen again.”
“When did he tell you who he was?” Lauren asked.
“He didn’t tell me,” Petra said. “I’m not proud of it, but I sneaked out the next morning and went back to my hotel to get ready for that important meeting I mentioned. Five minutes after I got to the meeting, guess who walked in?”
“How did he know where you were?” Desiree asked, eyes stretched in horror.
“You don’t get it,” Petra said. “He was the investor. I’d slept with the investor and then I had to convince him that the research organization that funds my work is worth backing! Getting up in front of everyone and talking about my work with images of him and me the night before running in my mind was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But, by the grace of God, I did it.”
“I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life,” Petra continued. “I left the meeting while he was preoccupied with one of the suits and hightailed it for the airport.”
“I just have one question for you. Did he agree to support the organization?” Meghan asked.
“Yes, he did,” Petra replied with an exaggerated sigh. “For which I’m grateful, believe me. But I’m not going near that particular rich boy ever again.”
Then she held up her empty glass and called to the nearby waiter, “Sweetie, another whiskey, please!”
The waiter—a tall, good-looking African American in his early twenties, with a hard body and a ready grin—called back, “Coming right up!”
Meghan missed her sisters the next few weeks, but she was so busy, she hardly had time to wonder what they were up to. She made the transfer from Shaw to Duke. It was a longer commute to work, but she didn’t mind.
Also, Leo had been right when he said her new colleagues would be friendly and welcoming. Shari Dunbar, especially, proved to be a fast friend.
Marjorie had assigned her to introductory courses for freshmen, which Meghan wholeheartedly agreed with, since she liked teaching students who had not been indoctrinated in a certain way of studying literature. She wanted them to be inquisitive and eager to learn.
How her students expressed themselves was also important to her. She stressed the usefulness of being a competent speaker as well as a competent writer, along with inculcating in them the love of reading. To her, this method produced a well-rounded student. A student who would grow into a mature scholar who loved literature for the sake of literature, not simply showing enough interest in it to earn a passing grade in her class.
Her teaching style was unorthodox in some ways. This was brought home to her when Leo, as her supervisor, sat in on her classes a few days to observe. When it was time for him to give her his opinion of her performance, he asked her to come to his office.
Meghan was careful not to treat Leo with anything but professional courtesy when they were working. She knocked before entering his office, and when he called, “Come in!” she strode in wearing a dark gray skirt suit with black pumps and accessories, including her briefcase. Her hair was in a neat French braid, and she wore minimal makeup.
Leo had on a dark blue suit with a white long-sleeve shirt, a striped tie and black dress shoes.
He gestured to the chair in front of his desk as he sat on the corner of the desk, a sheet of paper in his hand. “Please, sit down.”
Meghan sat and looked expectantly up at him.
“Meghan, I monitored your class a few times last week,” he began gravely.
“Yes, I saw you,” Meghan told him. When her class was being monitored, she was advised that she should not acknowledge it but simply go on teaching in her normal fashion. Which was what she had done. On the whole, she believed she had all the qualities a good instructor possessed. In fact, she had never gotten a bad evaluation from any of her past supervisors.
So she wasn’t prepared when Leo said, “I don’t think you take this position seriously. You give your students reading assignments and ask them to either write essays relating to those assignments, or they can give an oral report that includes spoken word or rap. Which, I admit, is very entertaining, but does it improve their understanding of the literature they’ve just read?”
Love in San Francisco ; Unconditionally Page 31
