by Afton Locke
“You learned a lot in a week.” His blue eyes were clear and calm again. “I’m not sure I’ll remember it all.”
“Didn’t I tell you about the test?” she asked.
He chuckled, a low rumble that sent heat to her belly and lower.
“No test, please. I didn’t do well on them in school.”
“Mr. Rockfield—”
“Call me Henry, when we’re alone together.” He indicated the books. “I’d say you’ve earned it.”
She didn’t even bother suppressing the smile that sprang to her lips. The lamp burned lower. It would go out soon if she didn’t attend to it. Rain pattered overhead, lulling her to dreamland. She hoped the roof wouldn’t spring a leak and ruin the mood. Luckily, Pearl’s prior suitor, Jimmy, had helped fix up the house a couple of years ago when he’d wooed her.
Who ever thought her family home could look so romantic with the right man sitting beside her?
“Henry…who else knows about your learning difficulties?”
“Even Caleb doesn’t know the extent of it. No one at the plant must find out.”
No one except her. The fact he trusted her so much warmed her body from fingers to toes. But why did he? It wasn’t as if the man wasn’t smart in other ways. Something existed between them. An indescribable bond, which grew stronger every time they were together.
“It’s getting late,” she said.
After glancing toward Mama’s bedroom door and back at her, he whispered, “You’re beautiful in the lamplight.”
A soft gasp spilled from her throat, until she analyzed the words. She’d worn a plain white blouse and dark-blue skirt because they didn’t have as many patched holes as most of her other clothes. Hardly glamorous. Of course he’d shower her with compliments. She’d just helped him by playing teacher.
“That’s because it’s almost gone out and you can’t see,” she replied.
“Let’s get something straight.” He gripped her elbow. “I may lie to people in Oyster Harbor to keep the peace, but everything I’ll ever say to you is the truth.”
He thinks I’m beautiful.
She scraped her chair back and stood. Because if they kept gazing at each other that way, they’d end up in each other’s arms.
He stood, too. “What are we going to do about this?”
“About what?” They both continued to whisper in case her mother wasn’t asleep.
“What’s between us.”
She looked away. “There’s nothing between us.”
“Then what do you call this?” He planted a slow, soft kiss at the base of her ear.
“Don’t, Mr. Rockfield. Don’t break my heart.”
He clasped her chin, turning her to look at him. “It’s Henry, remember?”
A shudder coursed through her body because fighting the urge to throw herself into his arms took every ounce of power she had. With his book-learning difficulties and the Klan breathing down his neck, the last thing he needed was more problems.
“You can’t be Henry to me, and I can’t be Sadie to you. Not with the Klan watching both of us.”
His index finger stroked her chin, sending tongues of flame through her jaw.
“That’s why working together is going to be so hard.”
“It’s a large plant,” she said. “We’ll stay away from each other. I’ll shuck, and you’ll manage the place, just like before.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible with your new assignment.”
“New assignment?” She pulled his hand away from her chin so she could concentrate.
“You obviously have a talent for business. I need you to help me with Rockfield’s paperwork and books. Can you work the extra hours?”
“Yes.”
“It will have to be done secretly, of course.”
She pursed her lips. A business job, extra money, and a delectable boss. She’d be a fool to refuse.
“When and where do I start?”
“Next week. The plant is too risky. It’ll have to be here or my place.”
His place? Alone? She had a hard enough time concentrating here. Her breath hitched in her throat when his gaze dropped to her breasts. They both watched his hand as he lifted it and brushed the side of her left one. They already felt especially heavy from being near him all night. His unexpected touch hardened her already-swollen nipples.
She squeezed her eyelids shut as her womb clenched. Because Buck had never caressed her so reverently or stared at her with longing. He’d just groped her in the dark.
Henry Rockfield was going to drive her crazy. Straight onto one of the Klan’s burning crosses.
The impulse to slap him rose so quickly, she couldn’t identify it, much less stop it. A red handprint glowed across his cheek, and shock registered in his eyes.
“What the—” He shook himself. “I deserved it. Please accept my apology.”
“Apology accepted, but if we’re going to work together, there can be none of that foolishness.”
And she meant it. Even though she’d give her eyeteeth to lie in his bed, his heavy, muscular body pinning her to the sheets. To inhale his musk until her body wept and contracted in a hundred sweet spasms around his hardness.
He may want her now, but he was a man like the rest. One day—perhaps when he didn’t need her brains anymore—he’d realize how ugly she was and reject her. Just like Buck. She’d rather burn with frustrated longing than go through that pain again.
“You’re absolutely right. We must focus on business.” His mouth opened, as if he might say something else or kiss her, but he stepped back instead.
“Good night, Sadie. I’ll let you know about the paperwork.” He pointed to the books on the table. “Keep them a while longer. You’ll need them, and they’d just get wet on the way home.”
She opened the door for him. The mere sight of the wind whipping the creek into choppy waves made her dizzy. She was glad she didn’t have to get into a boat tonight. Another reason nothing could happen between them. A sea-loving man and a seasick woman had no chance at a happy future together.
“Good night, Hen—Mr. Rockfield. Have a safe trip home. It looks rough out there.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
She believed it. He might not be a book learner, but his quiet strength could battle any storm.
After she closed the door behind him, she leaned against it and slid down a couple of inches. With a life of their own, her fingers picked up where his had left off. Caressing the side of her left breast and sliding across the cotton fabric of her white blouse to the aching peak. Her heart thundered, pulsing the swollen flesh against her frantic touch.
She needed to feel her bare skin. Pretend it was his. Because she’d never wanted anyone so much. She tore at her blouse buttons. He couldn’t leave her this way. Her fingers tangled in the straps of her bra. Aching. Wanting. Needing.
A small moan welled in her throat when her palm finally skated across bare flesh. Mercy, her nipple had never felt so hot. He’d given her a fever. Set her on fire…
The light sputtered, ready to go out. A footstep sounded.
Oh, yes, Henry. Come back! Fix me… Love me…
She plucked and pulled the swollen berry, rolling it between her fingers. Soaking her step-in panties.
But it wasn’t Henry. Mama.
“Sadie Johnson! What in the Lord’s name are you doing to yourself?”
And at that moment, thank heaven, the lamp finally went out.
Chapter Four
Henry’s heart jumped the next night when a tentative knock sounded on the door of his small one-room cottage.
“Come in.” He pulled Sadie’s arm so quickly she tripped over the threshold.
She yanked her hand away. “Watch it!”
“Sorry,” he muttered, locking the door.
“Don’t worry. No one saw me. I couldn’t half see anything myself.”
Her st
rong voice rippled over his skin, irritating and arousing at the same time.
“I’m glad you found it okay.”
He’d debated meeting at her home, but he didn’t want to risk carrying important company papers by boat. Especially after Sunday’s storm. Or did he simply want to be alone with her? Luckily, she’d slap him if he misbehaved again.
He helped her out of her sweater and hung it on one of the wall hooks. Then he sat on the couch and indicated the space beside him.
“Your home is a mess.” She tossed aside a tattered sportsman’s magazine before sitting. “I expected better from the head of a company.”
He fought the urge to grin. She should have seen the place before he’d cleaned up. At least the fishing poles and old oyster tongs were stacked neatly in the corner. He’d even swept the wood floor.
“That’s not a very polite thing to say to the boss.”
Ire flashed in her eyes. “It looks comfortable. Better?”
“I suppose. Let’s get started.”
His fingers hesitated before opening the company ledger on the weathered crate he used as a coffee table. Was he doing the right thing, involving her in Rockfield’s business? She’d only been here a few minutes and they were already snapping at each other.
Even worse, the couch was so small, her warm thigh contacted his. It looked so soft and round where her black dress clung to it. Heat settled in his groin. He’d rather study her bare thighs instead of these papers.
He obviously didn’t have much self-control around her. Caressing her breast, especially with her mother in the next room, hadn’t been planned, either. And she knew how dumb he was when it came to book learning. If she decided to use that discovery against him, he was sunk.
The only reason he’d told her was because he had little to lose. By getting her to help him in secret, he could satisfy her intelligent mind and save his company without hiring some outsider to take his place.
His plan had to succeed. It would, if he kept his hands off her.
“Now, then. If you would look that over,” he began.
But she already had it on her lap. Her brow puckered with intense concentration, drawing his attention to her smooth skin. Her eyebrows, though thick, curved as seductively as her hips. His finger tingled, wanting to trace the flared edges.
She flipped back and forth between two different pages, frowning even harder.
“Did you find a problem?”
“I’ll say,” she replied. “There’s a large discrepancy between inventory and payables for the oysters you buy.”
His stomach sank. Things must be worse than he thought. “Can you fix it?”
“I think so, but I need to review everything first to so I can see the forest instead of the trees.”
Can’t see the forest for the trees. An expression Caleb used often. A pitfall Henry was supposed to avoid as a manager. A couple of different employees entered things into this book, and he reviewed it periodically. At least he was supposed to. Mostly, he stared at the numbers until they gave him a headache then approved everything.
He couldn’t resist tucking back a lock of hair that had come loose over her ear. Why did women wear so many pins? She stiffened and closed her eyes for a second. Because his touch disgusted her? Or did she want more?
She glared at him. “Do you want to get slapped again?”
His cheek stung from the memory of that quick, hard, and painful strike. It had aroused him like nothing else. The urge to rip open the front of her dress so she could slap him again and again had overwhelmed him.
On the way home, he hadn’t been able to keep his hand out of his trousers. Battling the storm in his small boat had only intensified his arousal. He hadn’t stopped rubbing until he’d shouted her name into the thunder, spilling his seed across the rain-soaked deck.
Suddenly, he wanted her to slap him everywhere. Across his chest, inside each thigh, all over his rear—until the flesh was rosy red—and especially his stiff, aching cock.
“How long will it take?” He cleared his throat. “Fixing the books, that is.”
She flipped through the pages. “Even a review would take all night.”
All night? Henry’s semi-stiff shaft jumped to full attention. He could think of a few things to do to her during that time, and reviewing his books wasn’t one of them. He squeezed his fingers against his palms. The last thing he needed was to bed this employee. They were already under the Klan’s scrutiny. And once he’d sampled her sweet, dark flesh, he knew he’d want her again and again.
What he did need was help with his business. He wished they’d met at her home again so they’d have a chaperone.
“I can’t ask you to stay here so long. Maybe we can do the task in stages.”
“I don’t mind,” she replied. “I’d rather row home at daybreak and pick up Mama than in the middle of the night.”
Henry slapped himself in the temple. “I didn’t even think of that. I wouldn’t want you in a boat so late by yourself. I’d have to take you.”
And risk being observed by the Klan unless they left very late. He couldn’t expect her to work all day and all night, but the more sessions they had, the more they risked ending up in bed. Their arrangement was turning out to be more complicated than he’d predicted. It was too bad her brother, Leroy, didn’t still live at home. Caleb had told him about how the boy had taken Pearl home from her after-hours job.
“And I can’t concentrate with you sitting so close.” She glanced toward the kitchen area. “That table looks perfect.”
When he stood, he realized his mistake. He’d done nothing to hide the erection straining against his trousers. Sadie’s gaze dropped to that exact spot and darted away. Her breasts rose and fell more rapidly. Knowing his hardness made her breathe faster squeezed his balls until they ached.
“I’ll carry this for you.” He took the book from her hands and held it low, shielding his obvious desire for her.
Maybe they should go to bed and get it out of their systems. Then they could concentrate on work. Caleb had told him he’d seduced Pearl bit by bit because she was a proper young lady and a virgin. Sadie was no virgin, and Henry didn’t have his brother’s finesse. Once he gave in, he wouldn’t be able to stop until he’d stripped her and fucked her. Hard.
Just like he had Natalie… A shiver of dread coursed through him as his erection vanished. Intercourse created babies. If he got Sadie with child, the Klan would crucify him first and Rockfield’s second.
He flipped on the overhead light. Once she was seated, he brewed a pot of coffee and poured her a cup.
“I made it strong,” he warned.
“Exactly the way I like it.” She didn’t look up from the ledger. “Do you have any cream?”
The memory of Natalie retreated at the erotic image of filling Sadie with his cream. Her hand, her mouth, her cunt... He didn’t care as long as he filled her and claimed her. Hoping it would cool him off, he opened the small refrigerator. He opened the bottle of milk and sniffed it because he had no idea how old it was.
She was right. He did live like a pig. Since Natalie, he’d had no time or desire for a woman in his life. Until now. But Sadie was probably a novelty. Her dark skin made her different and fascinating. A different breed of fish. A new brand of boat engine.
It would pass. Maybe that’s why she held him at arm’s length. Thank goodness something did.
He set a spoon and the bottle of milk in front of her. “Help yourself.”
When she sniffed the milk, too, a bark of laughter shot from his throat. Must be the tension.
She grinned. “It’s a habit because I was raised not to waste food.”
“Do you need anything else?”
“Some paper to take notes on. We ran out at home.” She laughed, more softly than he had. “I took so many notes from those books you lent me, I had to write some on my bedroom wall.”
Were the Johnsons so poor t
hey couldn’t even afford paper? The oil lamp and outhouse at her place told him they didn’t have electricity or plumbing. One of the reasons he’d chosen to meet here was to give her plenty of electric light to work by.
How could she laugh at such grim circumstances? No wonder she’d thrown oysters in someone’s face. He might have done the same thing in her shoes. Why had he been born white from a successful father while she’d been born poor? Was it up to a toss of dice in the heavens? Sometimes life made less sense than the business books.
And she was willing to work all day and night to earn money for her family and better herself. The woman definitely had more to admire than generous curves and an intelligent mind. Whatever happened, he vowed to treat her well. Shouldn’t that be more important than saving his family’s company?
“Paper, coming right up.” He snatched a pad of it from a shelf and handed it to her. “Anything else?”
When she nibbled the pink eraser on the end of her pencil, he pictured something else, pink and round, in her mouth instead. He thrust his hands into his pockets.
“Yes,” she replied, staring at his crotch. “Keep that thing out of my sight so I can concentrate.”
He chuckled again, realizing he hadn’t laughed much since Caleb had put him in charge here. The woman was more refreshing than a strong sea breeze.
“Good idea.” He headed to the door and grabbed his jacket.
“Where are you going?”
“To the dock for a while, so you can get your work done.”
And to cool his aching balls. Nothing calmed him better than water. If he stayed in the cottage one more minute, he would not be able to keep his hands off her. And having sexual relations with her would not be treating her right.
“Oh.” Did she sound disappointed? “All right.”
“Keep the door locked and don’t let anyone else in,” he warned.
The last thing he needed was the Klan to find her here.
Hours later, Sadie paused to rub her eyes. Her watch read after midnight, and the hum of the refrigerator threatened to lull her to sleep. Where had the time gone? Applying the precious knowledge she’d learned from the books had been the most challenging task of her life, but enjoyable, too. She hadn’t felt this excited since she’d chased butterflies as a child.