by Afton Locke
Before she’d begun shucking oysters day after day.
But she couldn’t work this hard all night. Because the material was so new to her, the review task tired her. The figures started to dance into a blur on the pages.
Henry had been gone so long, she wondered if he’d ever return. If he hadn’t left, she wouldn’t have been able to think at all. She’d never seen a man experience so many erections. Each one had drenched her panties with need. The fabric was finally dry, and she intended to keep it that way.
If she’d been a virgin, she probably wouldn’t want him as much. But she knew what it was like to lie with a man and feel him sliding between her folds. To shatter to pieces inside a pair of masculine arms.
She must not give in. If she did, he’d reject her like Buck.
But her resistance to Henry Rockfield wore down day by day. If it weren’t for the extra money and opportunity to use her mind, she wouldn’t have accepted the assignment. These accounts were in such pitiful shape, she had all the extra work she could want.
A key scraped in the lock of the front door. He was back. Her nipples tingled and jumped to full attention.
He entered and sat with her at the metal kitchen table, which was smaller than the one at home but just as battered. At least their thighs didn’t touch as they had on the couch. Feeling that long muscle against her had been too much.
“My, it’s windy out there.” He glanced at her papers. “How’s it going?”
“That depends on how you look at it.” She pointed to her long list of detailed notes. “The good news is, I got most of the review done. The bad news is, I found a lot of problems.”
“That is bad.” He frowned at her list. “Can you fix everything?”
“I think so, but it will take more than one session. The inventory needs attention first.” She licked her index finger and turned pages in the ledger. “Here and here.”
When she lifted her finger to her lips to wet it again, Henry stared at her with his mouth parted.
“Oh God. Do that again,” he whispered.
She struggled to keep her gaze glued to the book in front of her, but it flew to his khaki trousers. To the tempting ridge she’d seen too often tonight. Good Lord. Was the man permanently hard? It must be painful.
“Maybe you should see a doctor about your…condition.”
She would have laughed if a cloud of wet, throbbing heat wasn’t licking every bit of her below the waist.
“I’m afraid there’s only one cure for it.” He grasped her wrist and tugged.
Unable to sit another moment in her pool of lust, she stood. “What do you want?”
“You.”
“Mr. Rockfield, we agreed.”
“Henry.” He seized her wrist and pressed a hot kiss to the inside of it. “And I’m afraid I have to break our agreement.”
“Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “You’ll tire of me.”
“Never. Grip the edge of the table,” he ordered.
What had gotten into him? Henry Rockfield wasn’t a take-charge man like his brother, but he was definitely calling the shots now. A tingle of excitement shot to her toes. She obeyed him, and her ankles wobbled as she wondered what he’d do.
Stand against me. Please… Let me feel how hard you are.
Answering her prayers, he pressed himself behind her, a bit at a time. He moaned low in his throat, until it rumbled through his chest, against her back, through each of her ribs.
But what she felt farther down threatened to incinerate her panties. His cock was as big as the rest of him. He pressed it to her, sliding it around until it nestled between her buttocks. For a few blinding moments, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The only air flowing was the restless wind outside, banging a loose shutter against the window.
Then, something wild surged through her body. Her back arched, and her hips pushed backward. Rubbing, pleading, needing…
“You have the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen,” he said after a harsh breath.
She cried out when he gripped each hip with large hands, so hard it almost hurt. Molding her flesh, he pulled her harder against him. His erection felt even larger and stiffer. The flesh between her legs swelled and swelled until she had to spread them to ease the pressure.
“We can’t do this,” she hissed.
When he got tired of her body, he’d also tire of having her work for him. She might even lose her shucking job. She struggled to get away from him, but he had her sandwiched too tightly between him and the table.
“Let me go,” she yelled.
His hips ground against hers. “I can’t.”
Instead of attacking her, he seemed to merely be out of control. So was she. She would not end up in his bed. She would not. Not knowing what else to do, she punched the heel of her shoe into his instep.
“Ouch! What the hell did you do that for?”
The force of his body slackened behind her, giving her a chance to escape. And she would have, if his hand hadn’t left her hip to brush across her breasts. She couldn’t tell if the casual touch was deliberate or accidental.
Her aching breasts didn’t care. Hating herself for being so weak, she clutched his hand, pressing it to her thundering heart.
“My foot still hurts.” He bit the lobe of her ear. “What about this?”
She winced from the nip of his teeth, but searing fluid drenched her swollen cleft. She needed more.
“And this?” he asked, pinching her nipple through the fabric of her dress.
She nudged her hips backward, needing his hardness. Whatever decisions she’d made about sexual intercourse were long gone. Having a man want her again was more intoxicating than anything she’d ever tasted. Even if it didn’t last, it might be worth it.
When he slid his broad fingers into her bodice, beneath her slip and bra, she didn’t stop him. Her belly clenched when he contacted bare skin. A draft bathed her legs when he lifted the skirt of her dress and her slip. Would he lift the hem of her loose panties, too? Not fast enough to suit her.
Her entrance throbbed, waiting to receive his hardness. Instead, he rubbed himself against her undergarment, faster and faster, while he thrummed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“But,” she whimpered. Should she make him stop or invite him inside where she so desperately needed him?
“It’s…a…compromise,” he gasped, out of breath.
Tears she couldn’t even identify flooded her eyes. Were they from frustration, admiration of his restraint, or joy because he wanted her so much?
When he lifted the hem of her step-ins, her heart faltered. He’d changed his mind. Instead, he rubbed himself against the bare skin of her buttocks. Fast breaths hissed in her throat from the sensation of his fiery rod, slick with fluid. He must be close to coming.
Unable to control herself, she let go of the table to lift the front of her dress and stroke her panties. Her flesh was so full and hot, the thin fabric covering it practically disappeared.
“That’s it, Sadie,” he said, nipping her ear again. “Rub yourself. Come with me.”
She hadn’t touched herself between the legs in a long time. After Buck left her, she’d buried the womanly part of herself, leaving behind only a worker and dutiful daughter. Who knew a powerful white man would come along and resuscitate it?
Her folds were so swollen, she hardly recognized them. Henry hadn’t just restored her. He’d created something that had never existed before. Her fingers trembled with the wonder of it as she squeezed, tugged, and rubbed in tune to his hard thrusts against her rump.
“Now, Sadie! Now!”
She gasped as the first trail of hot semen squirted across her bare skin. Stroking deeper, she buried her finger inside herself. She gripped the table harder as she succumbed to the blinding spasms ripping through her core. The coffee cup rattled and threatened to fall over.
“Henry!” she cried, utterly helpl
ess.
More streaks of slick fire bathed her buttocks. Each intensified her own clenches. She fell backward against him, into his waiting arms. They ended up on the floor on their knees, panting.
“Next time, I’ll be inside you,” he promised.
With the wave of passion rolled past, she finally saw things clearly. Henry hadn’t kissed her. Hadn’t even looked at her. Who could blame him? She was far from pretty. He’d just wanted any old warm body to rub himself against and scratch his itch.
How could she have been foolish enough to let him? This was worse than having Buck grope her in the dark confines of their bedroom.
“There won’t be a next time.”
She lurched to her feet. With shaky hands, she grabbed the napkin from the table, cleaned herself with it, and did her best to straighten her dress. At the same time, he fastened his pants. She’d never even seen his cock. Just felt it.
“Sadie, don’t quit on me. I need you to fix the books.”
“Don’t worry. I need the job.” She strode to the door and put on her coat. “But the next time you get an urge to hump against something warm, go to a nearby farm and find yourself a cow or goat.”
“Damn, I’m sorry. I thought you wanted it, too.”
She couldn’t deny it, so she didn’t say anything as she unlocked the door.
He rushed after her. “Don’t be angry. I’ll take you home.”
“No need.” She turned the doorknob. “My boat is waiting.”
“Then I’ll escort you in mine,” he insisted.
“No need for that, either. Tomorrow, we’ll have to meet at my place. I won’t come here again.”
“That’s fine.”
Before he could stop her, she slipped out the door. A gust of wind slapped her in the face. Wonderful. Choppy water was the last thing she wanted to deal with. She ran to the Johnson rowboat and tugged the rope off the mooring. As soon as she lit the lantern, she plunged the oar into the water. After a few hundred yards of rowing, she heard the engine of a boat but couldn’t see it. That damn man was probably following her.
By then, seasickness had wrapped its ugly shroud around her. Because she couldn’t see much beyond the circle of lantern light, her other senses heightened. Damp salt bored into her nostrils, and she heard and felt the creek at the same time—splash, rock, splash, rock. The pleasure she’d felt in Henry’s cottage became a hazy memory. It never should have happened.
Wind ripped at her hair, shredding what was left of her emotions. It also dried her tears as soon as she shed them. He’d shown he only wanted her halfway, which was worse than not wanting her at all. If he so much as laid one finger on her again, she’d break it off.
And halfway between Oyster Harbor and Crab Creek, she leaned her head over the side and emptied her belly into the dark, churning water. The other boat still hovered in the distance, out of sight. At least it gave her the dignity of hiding what he’d done to her.
She would deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.
Chapter Five
The next evening, Henry cut back his boat engine as he approached Sadie’s home. He’d brought the company books wrapped in several layers of waterproof sacks. Not that he had to worry. The seas were calm this evening.
Last night had been as stormy as his time with her. Seeing the lantern of her tiny boat bobbing in the surf had nearly torn his heart out. If anything had happened to her because of what he’d done to her in his cottage, he’d never have forgiven himself.
What had gotten into him, rubbing himself all over her like that? Soft, dark skin. Curvy, round ass. How could any man resist such a tempting feast? He’d been one breath away from penetrating her. If he’d fooled around with a woman or two once in a while, he probably wouldn’t have acted like such a lust-starved teenager. But no one else excited him so much.
He sure hadn’t treated his most trusted employee with respect. He could hardly believe she wanted to continue their business arrangement. She must be pretty desperate to escape shucking oysters.
Unless she planned to get revenge.
Tonight, he intended to make up for his crude behavior. After tying his boat to a sturdy oak in her yard, he grabbed the sack of papers and the handful of reddish-purple rosebuds he’d picked.
Not wanting to draw attention to himself by buying flowers, he’d snatched them from the bushes behind Caleb’s old home in Oyster Harbor. If only the town were bigger. Instead, a man couldn’t dine out without everyone knowing what he’d eaten by the next morning. He hadn’t minded until he’d had to join the Klan.
As soon as he walked through the door Sadie opened, he almost turned and walked back out. Her gaze, cold and dead, stabbed through him.
“Good evening, Mr. Rockfield.”
Her voice was even chillier than her eyes. When he held out the roses, he regretted picking them because they looked too pitiful to make up for his behavior.
“If you put them in water, they should bloom.”
“Thank you.” Was it his imagination, or did her gaze soften a bit before she drew a cup of water from the bucket on the counter?
“I want you to know how sorry I am. I made a mistake, and it will never happen again.”
Her eyes hardened once more.
“I-it was so late and I—” he babbled.
But she held up a hand. “Have a seat and let’s get down to business.”
He was glad enough not to discuss last night because he had no idea what to say beyond his apology. As she opened the ledger and turned the pages, he admired her capable, short-nailed fingers. Imagined them slapping him until his skin turned red. Gripping his cock and making him come.
When said member rose inside his trousers, he looked away and tried to force it down. All he needed was her mother to walk out and see him in that condition. He fought the urge to hold Sadie’s hand. To kiss her. To tell her how badly he wanted to court her properly.
But he couldn’t court her under their circumstances. She barely looked at him when she spoke to him. The passionate, angry woman was gone, leaving this cool, dignified lady. He wished she’d yell at him again, but maybe she didn’t want her mother to overhear from the next room.
His chair scraped as he got up. “I’m going to go outside and walk around.”
He hoped she fixed his business quickly because he didn’t know how much more cold formality he could stand. Once he got Rockfield’s on the right track, he could forget he’d ever met her. It wouldn’t be as good as his old life, operating the company buy-boat all day instead of sitting in an office, but it would be a damn sight more peaceful than this.
* * *
On Wednesday evening, Sadie pulled away from the kitchen table in Henry’s cottage and stretched. At least her eyes still felt fresh. It sure would be nice to have an electric light at home.
Mama had asked so many questions after last night’s session, she’d thought it best to return here for tonight’s work. Luckily, the Klan had canceled its weekly meeting because the mayor was sick.
Taking a break, she sat in front of the telephone in a crusty canvas chair that probably used to be part of a boat. The man might as well live on one. He used an old sail for a rug and an oyster bushel basket for a garbage can. The room even smelled like sea salt.
Before going to the Sapphire Crab to buy food for them, Henry had given her permission to call Pearl Point. Food. Didn’t he know she had no appetite when he was around? Mama had asked her to help coordinate Pearl’s baby shower, but that wasn’t the only reason she needed to speak to her brother’s wife, Rose. He confused her so much, she desperately needed to talk to another woman. Someone besides Mama.
As she dialed, her gaze drifted to the brass bed across the room. Then she stared at the kitchen table, picturing herself bent over it while Henry rubbed himself against her. She cursed the tingle of arousal in her core, betraying her pride.
It was a mistake and will never happen again.
She’d never forget those words. If she was prettier, he’d want her again and again the way Caleb wanted Pearl. He would also have faced her and showered her with kisses instead of humping her from behind. It was a wonder he hadn’t turned out the lights, too, so he wouldn’t have to look at her.
But he was right. It definitely would not happen again. Luckily, their relations were on a businesslike footing again. She and Mama needed the money, and she hated shucking oysters more than feeling used.
She dialed the number for Rose’s house and waited for the operator to connect her.
“Hello?”
Sadie winced. Her overprotective older brother was the last person she wanted to speak to right now.
“Hello, Leroy. Is Rose there? I need to talk to her about Pearl’s baby shower.”
“Don’t you have anything to say to your flesh and blood first?” His familiar, peppery voice coaxed a grin to her face.
“Sorry. How are things down there in Pearl Point?”
“Busy.” A tired but contented sigh gusted through the earpiece. “Seems I’m always building or repairing something around here.”
Had it been a year already since he’d moved to St. Mary’s County to help Caleb build the new Rockfield oyster plant?
“How’s Mama?” he asked.
“Fine. And Pearl?”
“Huge.” His chuckle died. “It’s late. Where are you calling from, anyway?”
Her lips froze, and her mind, tired from fixing Henry’s ledger, raced through an inventory of the town’s available telephones. Considering the late hour and the fact she wasn’t white, the list was pretty short.
“Uh, I’m still in Oyster Harbor. I had errands after work because of the baby shower.”
“What? You know I don’t like you rowing that boat at night.”
The thought of yesterday’s rough surf sent a pang of queasiness through her stomach.