Forbidden

by Beverly Jenkins

  She trembled sweetly but didn’t pull away. “Your incorrigible side is showing again.”

  He drew her close until her warmth was flush against him and his arm across her spine kept her there. She was tempting, soft and so sweet, he felt as if he’d died and gone to heaven. His lips whispered over her jaw, and the sound of her breathless response thrilled him. The first time he kissed her had left him wanting more, but this slow unhurried taste of desire made him want to undo the tiny buttons of her blouse and savor the heat he knew he’d find against her silken skin. He ran a possessive hand up her spine while he coaxed her mouth to open so he could slide his tongue boldly inside and mate with hers lazily, wantonly. She groaned with pleasure and he couldn’t wait to treat her body to the same fiery dance. “I want to touch you, Eddy.” Putting actions to his words, he moved his palm over the nipple of her breast. “Here.” Unable to resist, he lowered his head and bit the nipple hidden beneath the fabric of her blouse, and she crooned raggedly. He gave the other nipple the same heated salutation, then recaptured her lips while his fingers played with the now hardened buds of her breasts. More than anything he wanted to undress her and fully explore her beauty, but he reminded himself that they were in Sylvie’s kitchen. That joy would have to wait. “I should go before Sylvie comes home and finds you spread out on the table like dessert.” He dipped his head low again for another taste of her breasts, and when he raised it her head was back, her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted passionately.

  As if she’d only then processed his words, her eyes opened sluggishly. “On the table?”

  He kissed her deeply. “Yes, on the table.”

  “Why would you kiss me on the table?” she whispered.

  He smiled at the innocence the question held. “Because desire sometimes happens in the oddest places, little queen. You’ll see.” He traced her lips. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “I did, too. I’m looking forward to our one evening.” No way was it going to be a one-­night interlude. If he had his way it was going to be the first in a lifetime of passion-­filled nights.

  The sound of the door closing in the front room made them both look up. Rhine gave her a quick kiss, then hastily returned to his seat at the table.

  When Sylvie entered the kitchen, Rhine was studying the papers he’d brought for her to sign and Eddy was wiping down the counter with the dish rag.

  He spoke first. “Good evening, Sylvie.”

  “Rhine.”

  Eddy asked, “How’d the birth go?”

  “Fine. No complications.”

  Rhine knew that if he stood, Sylvie would see the proof of what they’d been doing, so he stayed seated. That small short taste of Eddy had left him hard with arousal, and Eddy looked like she’d been thoroughly kissed—­and she had.

  For a few long moments, Sylvie took them in silently—­first Eddy and then him, saying finally, “I hope the two of you know what you’re getting into.”

  Neither of them responded.

  She asked him, “Are those the agreement papers I need to sign?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll look them over and get them back to you as soon as possible.”

  “Thanks.”

  Taking them in one last time, she walked out and left them alone.

  In the silence that followed Rhine said, “All things considered, I think we handled that pretty well.”

  Eddy laughed.

  They fed on each other visually in the quiet kitchen, and he wondered how much of a fight she’d put up when he asked her to marry him. “What time would you like dinner?”

  She replied, “Six? Seven?”

  “Let’s make it six. If we start the evening early we’ll have more time to enjoy each other’s company. “I’ll send Jim around to drive you to the saloon.” He hated that they needed to be discreet, but it was necessary due to the times.

  “That would be fine.”

  Rhine didn’t want to leave her but knew he must. The proof of how much he wanted her had eased enough for him to stand. “I’m going to keep my distance and bid you good night from here because if I walk over there, I’ll kiss you again.” He loved seeing the lingering remnants of desire in her lips and eyes.

  “That might be best.”

  Taking a moment to view her a few seconds longer, he inclined his head, shot her a smile before his departure. Outside, he climbed into his carriage. Driving toward the Union her words came back: Why would you kiss me on the table?

  He chuckled all the way home.

  “So you decided to have dinner with him?” Sylvie asked Eddy on Friday evening as Eddy stood at the kitchen door gazing out unseeingly at Mount Davidson.

  “Yes.”

  “You look very nice.”

  “Thank you.” She had on one of her nice Vera-­made blouses and a lovely brown skirt.

  “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  Eddy looked back. “Yes.” She thought back on her heated encounter with Rhine, and just the memory made her nipples tighten shamelessly.

  “Then you’ll get no lecture from me.”

  “Is there an insane asylum nearby?”

  Sylvie smiled. “No honey, but you’ll have to be very discreet—­both of you will.”

  “We’re only going to have dinner this one time.”

  “That’s what I said about me and Oliver. Passion can change your life.”

  Eddy would be the first to admit that it already had. “Thank you for not judging.”

  “I’m the last person to be judging anyone.”

  Eddy was grateful for her counsel and understanding.

  Jim arrived a few minutes later and handed her into Rhine’s carriage before driving them away. Eddy didn’t want to second-­guess herself but she was terribly nervous and the silence in the carriage was awkward.

  “I made you an angel food cake.”

  That cut some of the nervousness she felt. She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Rhine’s a good man, Eddy.”

  She nodded and wondered who she’d be after their evening together.

  The drive was a short one. Jim halted the carriage at the saloon’s back door then came around and helped her down.

  “He’s in the kitchen waiting for you.”

  She gave him a nod of thanks. As he drove away, she drew in a deep calming breath, turned the knob, and walked inside.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Good evening, Eddy.”

  More nervous than she ever remembered being, Eddy pulled the door softly closed behind her. “Good evening, Rhine.” Looking at him made all the memories of their last visit flood back. He’d left her breathless and eager for more. Now they were embarking on their first evening together and a different kind of nervousness took hold, one fueled by sensual anticipation.

  “Are you as nervous as I am?”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  “Then come, let’s go upstairs and see if we can’t put each other at ease.”

  He gestured for her to go first. He brought up the rear and closed the door at the base of the stairs, effectively sealing them off from the noisy saloon and the world. The gaslight on the wall offered just enough illumination for them to see their way up. The last time she’d been on the stairs, she’d been carried down them in his arms.

  When she reached the top she saw the closed door that led to his bedroom and more memories rose.

  As if able to see into her mind, he said softly, “Welcome back.”

  He ushered her a short distance down the gaslit hallway to the closed door of one of the spare rooms and opened it. “After you.”

  The interior was sparkling with candlelight. She looked up at him questioningly.

  “You said I could have candles.”

  Smiling,
she entered. That they weren’t using his bedroom eased the riot of butterflies in her stomach and she relaxed a bit. The table was set for an elegant meal. Over the years, she’d set many a fancy table. Never once had any of them been set for her personal enjoyment, however, and she was so moved tears stung her eyes. The gleaming china and glassware, the way the candlelight played over the white damask tablecloth, the beauty of the roses elegantly displayed in a cut crystal vase, were her undoing. The table was set as if she truly was a queen. “This is lovely,” she whispered around the lump in her throat.

  “I hoped you’d be pleased.”

  She took it all in again. “I’m usually the one setting a table like this, not dining at it.”

  “Tonight is not the usual.”

  She supposed it wasn’t. The Eddy of old could never have imagined herself in such a situation. Not here with a man like this.

  “You’re not allowed to think about anything except having dinner.”

  “You didn’t tell me there would be rules.”

  “Just a few.”

  “Such as?”

  “That you enjoy yourself this evening and allow me to please you with my wit and charm.”

  She chuckled. “Anything else?”

  He reached out and used his thumb to slowly trace her lips. “Yes. You can think about me being endearing, incorrigible, and of course kissing you.”

  Her knees melted.

  Putting action to words, he gave her a series of soft humid kisses that slowly melted the rest of her. “Endearing enough, Your Majesty?”

  Eyes closed, her body filled with a sweet trembling, she whispered in a voice as hushed as the room, “Very much.”

  He stepped back and once again traced her lips. “Then I’ve passed the first test. Shall we dine?”

  He helped her with her chair before settling into one on the opposite side of the table. The distance allowed Eddy to try and regain her wits.

  Over a grand meal of roast beef and gravy, vegetables, and light-­as-­air biscuits, they were too busy eyeing each other to converse very much. Every time she looked up, his vivid eyes were waiting, filled with a power that warmed her blood and made the sensual anticipation rise higher.

  After the meal, he brought her a piece of angel food cake on a small glass plate. “Would you like a bit of champagne?”

  In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought to herself. “Just a little please.”

  He walked over to the sideboard, opened the bottle and poured some of the golden liquid into a lovely crystal flute and set it beside her cake plate. After pouring himself a portion, he returned to the table.

  “The way the candlelight is playing over you in that beautiful white blouse makes you look like an angel.”

  She’d never been paid such a compliment before.

  “My thoughts are hardly angelic, however.”

  “You’re being incorrigible again.”

  “A beautiful woman does that to a man. How many buttons are on your blouse?”

  She looked down at them and then across the table at him. “Ten, maybe eleven.”

  “Would you undo the first four for me, please?”

  Fork in hand, Eddy paused and studied him.

  “This is about the desire you wanted to learn more about.”

  Realizing she’d set her own trap and hoping he didn’t see the slight shake in her hands, she put the fork down. Singed by the heat in his eyes, she slowly honored his request, feeling her body bloom with each button she freed.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m going to place kisses there when you finish your cake.”

  Eddy dissolved. He was way too good at this. She’d expected kisses, not this pure seduction.

  Although she had enjoyed the angel food cake in the past, she barely tasted it because she was too busy thinking about his stated plans. In need of bolstering, she took a moment to sip her champagne. She then set aside the plate holding the remains of her cake.

  “Done?”

  She nodded.

  He stood. “Bring your champagne.”

  On shaking legs, Eddy did as asked. He took her hand and led her the short distance to a wingback chair upholstered in a beautiful jewel-­like dark blue.

  He sat and coaxed her to sit on his lap. “Hand me your champagne.”

  Having never sat on a man’s lap before in her life, she handed him her flute, and he set it next to his on a small table near the chair. Gathering her in, he eased her close to his chest. The heat of his body melded with hers, and the light scent of his spicy cologne wafted gently to her nose. “I’ve never sat on a man’s lap before. Can you feel me shaking?”

  “I can, so just relax. We have all evening.” He kissed the top of her hair, and after a few moments of being held by him, her tension eased.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” he whispered. “Now, about those kisses I promised.”

  As his mouth descended to hers, Eddy tried to remain in control and not be swept away as she had been a few days ago in the kitchen of the boardinghouse, but she was still as new to passion as she was to the sweep of his fiery hands and lips. His mouth left hers to blaze a trail over the skin exposed by her opened blouse, and her pleasure-­filled moan rose in the silence of the otherwise silent room. The tip of his tongue slipped over the edge of her new lace-­edged shift, grazing the tops of her breasts, and for a moment she inanely wondered if he thought less of her for not wearing a corset. When his thumbs teased her already berried nipples and he slid the garment aside just enough to take the bud into his mouth, she was glad she refused to wear the constricting garment. Apparently he was, too. Rising up, he held her eyes and husked out, “Undo more buttons for me.”

  Eddy felt hot, scandalous, but gave him the boon. He rewarded her by easing the soft cotton down to free her breasts. He feasted in earnest, and a smoldering took root between her thighs. He claimed her lips again, and as his tongue played invitingly with hers, his large hand slid up and down her skirt-­shrouded thigh. When that same hand slipped beneath to explore her stocking-­encased limb, soft gasps escaped from her lips.

  She heard him say, “I want to touch you, Eddy.” Her skirt was rucked up high past her garter, and his palm was mapping the bare skin above it.

  He asked huskily, “Yes? No?”

  Her world was so hazy and she was so caught up in the storm she had no idea what he was asking.

  “Open your legs, darlin’. Let me feel your desire there, too.”

  Feeding on his voice, she complied, and his bold touch followed. She then knew what he’d been asking. Bewitching fingers circled, dallied. She arched and panted softly, “Rhine.”

  “You’re so wet.”

  The storm gathering in her body grew stronger with each indrawn breath. “Rhine,” she cried helplessly.

  “Go ahead, darling, let it come, baby. I have you.”

  Her legs widened, his wicked fingers continued to bestow their enthralling magic. Suddenly, the storm broke, crackling through her body like summer lightning, and she was flung to the stars, hoarsely screaming his name.

  Eddy didn’t know how much time had passed, but when she opened her eyes he was smiling down. Still breathless, she asked, “What in heaven’s name was that?”

  “An orgasm. When your body can’t hold any more pleasure it explodes sort of like black powder. Did you enjoy it?”

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks and she turned away.

  He gently turned her chin so she was again looking into his eyes. “There’s no shame in anything we do together,” he informed her quietly. “Only pleasure. Please don’t ever be ashamed of enjoying yourself.”

  She’d never felt anything like the orgasm before. Even now remnants lingered, slowly beating between her thighs in cadence with her heart and breath.
“Do men have orgasms, too?”

  “Yes, but doing it properly usually results in babies, and we don’t want that right now.”

  “No, we don’t.” But she wondered what a child made by the two of them might look like. Turning her mind away from that, she noted how limp yet full she felt. The logical and levelheaded old Eddy was appalled at how free she’d been with him, while the newly awakened woman inside wondered how long she had to wait to experience it again.

  He repositioned her skirt and righted her shift. She shrugged back into her blouse and redid most of the buttons. “Thank you for the lesson.”

  “You’re welcome.” He slid a worshipping finger down her cheek and he took on a serious air. “Marry me, Eddy.”

  Hearing that, she sighed. “You know I can’t. Please don’t spoil our evening.”

  “I’m not trying to, but I’m serious. Marry me.”

  She looked away for a long moment and wondered why he’d bring up such a subject after what they’d shared. Maybe she understood it but it changed nothing. Yes, she loved him, but that didn’t change anything either. Turning back, she picked her words carefully. “You know what we’d be facing. It might look to be an easy road from where you sit, but it isn’t. You’re not Colored and I’m not White. Us being together is against the law almost everywhere.”

  “But I’m not White either.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. She thought back on all the good she was told he’d done on behalf of the city’s Colored community. “Maybe not inside.”

  “Not outside either.”

  When he didn’t say anything else it was as if he wanted the words to sink in. She met his steady gaze and the hair rose on the back of her neck. Gooseflesh prickled over her and she stared, agape.

  “I’d like to tell you a story.”

  Filled with wonder, she thought it couldn’t possibly be true. A hundred different questions ran riot through her brain.

  “May I?”

  Stunned by the implications, she nodded horselike.

  “I was born to an enslaved woman named Azelia. The man who sired me was her slave owner, Carson Fontaine . . .”