Authors: Beverly Jenkins
Tags: #Historical Fiction, #African American history, #Michigan, #Fiction, #Romance, #Women Physicians, #Historical, #African American Romance, #African Americans, #American History
"Will you come inside with me?"
she whispered.
"If we go inside, I'll make love to
you..."
His hands were so potent and filled her
with such bliss, she couldn't speak, she could only brace herself against the
strong cradle made by his arm and chest and let him work his magic. His touch
on the point from which all her pleasure spread was luxurious, enticing, slow.
She eased her legs apart, and he gifted her offering with such magnificence,
she moaned and melted from the heat.
The periodic flashes of lightning offered
Nate an erotic view of her taking pleasure from his touch. One flash revealed
her nipples hard and beautiful as onyx, the next, the arch of her waist with
its adorning navel. A particularly brilliant display followed and illuminated
her in all her seminude glory as she rose to meet his hand. "You never
answered my question, Viveca," he reminded her huskily. "Are you
sure?" Nate was harder than he'd ever been before in his life. If she were
not a virgin she'd be straddling his straining manhood right there and then.
Vivid, riding the waves of sensation
managed to reply, "I'm sure."
"And you know what this means?"
"Yes," she whispered.
Nate's heart soared. "Then let's make
you ready...Stand for me."
She didn't want to leave his embrace. She
didn't want to leave the sweet ache he continued to cultivate so beautifully.
When she didn't comply, seemingly content
with her pleasure, he chuckled. "Greedy little Dr. Princess, stand up…hold
up your gown..."
Vivid didn't remember getting to her feet.
One moment she'd been spiraling under his hands, and the next she was standing
with him kneeling before her. "No screaming now," he whispered
amusedly. She had just enough time to brace herself before the first lightning
bolt slid across her shrine. Fired by her responsiveness, he eased his big
hands up to her thighs to hold her steady, then gently brought her forward.
He pleasured her softly at first, letting
the wantonness fill her until she trembled, then he slowly backed away. As she
stood before him pulsing in anticipation, his hands returned to the swelling
jewel and dabbled softly in concert with the hot, alternating licks of his
tongue. The wind swirled around the porch and the lightning momentarily
illuminated the intimate tableau against the night. But Vivid neither heard nor
cared; his masterful mouth was too knowing, his touch too aware of all that
made her woman. When he slid one long finger into her cove, she screamed her
release in tandem with the boom of the thunder.
He carried her into the house, kissing her
while following her directions to the new bedroom. He set her on the bed as the
rains began outside and the wind whipped the curtains furiously. He undressed
against the flashes of the storm and Vivid got her first leisurely look at a
nude man. He was magnificent. The muscles gleamed darkly, the legs looked
powerful, as did the rigid proof of his desire. "You're a well-made man,
Nate Grayson..."
Nate let her look her fill, then said with
a soft chuckle, "Virgins are supposed to cower and cry, princess, not
stare greedily."
"Well, I'm new at this," she
whispered, her voice sultry. "So while you're furthering my medical
education, you'll have to apprise me of all these rules..."
Nate's manhood leaped at the saucy,
heat-filled invitation. It took all the willpower he possessed not to tumble
her back on the bed and apprise her immediately, but she'd never had a man
before; he needed to go slow.
He didn't see how he'd ever manage it,
however, as he joined her on the bed. Her dark skin was as soft as lilies, her
mouth as vibrant as rain. She was born to bloom under his hands, and he was
never going to let her go.
"Am I allowed to touch you?" she
asked as his lips trailed fire along her throat and then the tempting curve of
her shoulder. He cupped her breast then lifted it in offering as he lowered his
mouth to feast. He then raised his head and kissed her lushly. "Touch has
no rules..."
Vivid placed her hand around the object of
her curiosity and felt the warmth pulsate against her palm. She slid her small
hand up then down the satin shaft while marveling at how something so hard
could feel so velvety soft. "Show me..." she coaxed quietly against
his ear.
Nate covered her hand and intimately
showed her the way. He was breathless less than halfway through the lesson, so
breathless he had to still her hand and close his eyes to keep from exploding.
“Did I do something wrong?'' she asked
through the haze of desire. She could feel him throbbing like a heartbeat
within the circle of her hand.
"No. Your hot little hands are making
it hard to go slow is all."
"Then let's not go slow," she
suggested lazily as she lifted her lips to his.
"Brazen woman..."
Nate eased her back on the bed, then
spread kisses over her skin, paying slow, masterful attention to the two buds
on her breasts and the tempting little one between her thighs. When he sensed
her to be on the edge of her second release he coaxed open her thighs and
partially eased his way into her warmth. She was tight, so tight he had to halt
his penetration and let the sensations level for a moment to keep from lustily
thrusting his way home. He was a big man; he didn't want to cause her injury,
nor did he want this interlude to be something she looked back on with fear or
regret. "This may hurt a bit," he confessed, "but only this once..."
It did hurt, but just long enough for the
pain to register, then it slowly faded into pleasure as he began the age-old
dance of man loving woman. Vivid had no idea how she was supposed to respond,
so she gave herself up to his tutoring hands and the magic rhythm spreading
through her thighs. As the intensity increased, so did his stroking. He teased
her intimately, coaxed her brazenly. He gave her the strength of all he had to
offer until she could take no more. The release slammed into her with the force
of a thunderclap. Every cell in her body caught fire as she rode the wave of
the buffeting storm.
Nate could no longer keep himself in
check. Watching her arching so deliciously pushed him into his own release. He
gripped her hips as the tension climbed, then growled loudly as the world
exploded into a brilliant light.
Later, they lay side by side in the
darkness listening to the night. The storm had passed on and only faint rumbles
of thunder could be heard in the distance. Vivid said softly, "I guess
we're doing something more than courting now."
"I think you're right." He
chuckled. He turned on his side and raised himself on an elbow to face her.
"Is that so bad?"
"No, Nate, it isn't."
Her reward was a soft kiss.
Nate drew back and asked, “What made you
change your mind?" Then, like a self-satisfied male, added, "as if I
didn't already know the answer."
"You need to be more humble,
Nathaniel Grayson, you really do."
Nate kissed her until the embers of their
last encounter slowly glowed to life once again. "Thunder Gods aren't
supposed to be humble," he informed her, grazing her nipple with his
finger. "Besides, it's hard to be humble when all I have to do is this, to
know how much you appreciate me." He lowered his mouth and suckled her
until her hips rose and a moan of pleasure slid from her throat.
"See?" he whispered hotly.
He gave her a nibble, then raised his
head. "Now, you were saying?"
His attentions had her body in such an
uproar, she forgot for a moment what she'd been about to say. "I was
saying that your lovemaking played a role, but talking with Maddie made me come
to a decision."
"You talked with Maddie? When?"
Vivid explained the circumstances
surrounding their meeting.
When she paused in the telling, he asked,
"Is she going to be okay? Is she recovered?"
"Yes. The Quilt Ladies helped by
bringing her meals and checking on her until she got back on her feet."
He stared, confused. "Why in the
world would the Quilt Ladies want to help Maddie after all these years of
sniping at her?''
"Because I asked them to."
Nate didn't understand this. The Quilt
Ladies had been a thorn in Maddie's side ever since she'd returned.
Even after she sold the Emporium and
retired to her books and her beloved dogs, they never let her forget she'd been
a whore. To this day the Widow Moss still crossed the street if she encountered
Maddie in town. It took the reverend's fiery sermon on forgiveness and being
Christian to make the old biddies stop hissing at her whenever Maddie attended
church. So he didn't understand their newfound generosity at all. "What
did you threaten them with?"
"I told them I'd tell their husbands
about the poker games they hold once a week."
"The Quilt Ladies play poker?"
"Every Wednesday night down in Miss
Edna's storeroom."
Nate didn't believe this. "How'd you
find out?"
"Miss Edna invited me to play, and
Nate, if you tell a soul, I will never speak to you again."
“Never is a long time, Dr. Princess.
Besides, give me a few moments alone with these dark jewels," he said as
he ran his hands over her nipples, "and you'll speak to me. I
promise."
Vivid didn't speak at all for the next few
moments, she was too busy catching fire.
Nate leaned over and kissed her mouth.
“Oh, by the way, so there'll be no misunderstandings, Lancaster, I will be
marrying you."
"Oh, really?" she replied,
smiling up at him with inner delight.
"Yes, really."
"And suppose I don't care to be Mrs.
Nathaniel Grayson?"
"Then I suppose I'll have to spend
the rest of the night trying to change your mind."
By the time Nate finished changing Vivid's
mind, the sun was rising.
At church the following Sunday the
congregation
J-
m-greeted Nate's announcement of their upcoming marriage
with applause and shouts of congratulations. Vivid stood shyly as the reverend
gave them both his blessing. She looked over at Magic, who had a grin on her
small face the size of Lake Michigan, then Abigail, who had joyous tears in her
eyes. Mr. Crowley, not to be upstaged, made his own announcement, an announcement
Nate was still chuckling over as they rode home.
He told his aunt sitting beside Vivid,
"Aunt Gail, I don't know why you're so mad. It's about time you and Adam
had your arguments under the same roof."
"How dare he tell everyone we're
courting," Abigail said. "He's one of the most bullheaded, stubborn,
and opinionated people on this earth."
"And you're not?" Nate asked.
"That's beside the point. I don't
want to be courted by Adam Crowley."
Vivid simply shook her head and smiled as
the landscape rolled slowly by.
Vivid spent the month of July trying to
escape the miserable humidity, swatting at mosquitoes the size of small birds,
and working herself to the bone. Her practice area had widened now that word
had gotten around about her skills and good nature, making for many more nights
away from home. The Michigan Central Railroad had asked her to doctor their
Black porters and cooks and some lumber camps offered her a stipend to treat
their injured Black employees.
All in all, she was very busy.
And she didn't see much of Nate, either.
He was traveling around the area reporting to the members of the Committee on
the meeting he'd attended in Indianapolis. The Committee, or Council as it was
called in some places, had been formed by a group of Black veterans after Mr.
Lincoln's war. They encouraged Blacks to vote, formed Republican clubs, and
ensured that Blacks, especially those newly freed in the South, were not
cheated in business transactions or in the courts. However, for the last few
years Committee members had been secretly gathering information on the Blacks
in the South, and as Nate reported at the Grove's last town meeting, the
situation looked hopeless. Many Black men had been killed trying to vote in the
South in 1874, and this fall's election promised to be even bloodier. In
Mississippi and Louisiana, whole parishes and counties reported no Black men
alive over the age of eighteen. Those men fortunate enough to escape the
Redemptionist wrath of the White Leagues fled their homes for safer climes,
many times leaving their distraught families behind and taking with them
nothing more than the clothes on their backs. Because of the rampant violence,
some Blacks were calling for migration to Liberia and other parts of Africa.
Nate told his neighbors about a man by the name of Henry Adams and a Tennessee
man named Benjamin "Pap" Singleton, who were trying to organize a
movement out of the South and into the Western territories of Kansas and
Nebraska. The so-called representative Negroes like Frederick Douglass were
sitting on the fence on the migration issue.
Vivid knew that Nate had to speak with
many people before he could come home. But she hoped he would hurry back.