Sadie's Surrender

by Afton Locke

  It was time.

  “Come to bed, Sadie,” he whispered.

  She nodded, pressing her hand into his. The take-charge woman who ran his company wasn’t here. Tonight, she was all docile female. They stopped at the side of the bed.

  A vision of a sunny day in the garden drifted through his mind. Pulling off a dress. Ripping a stocking. Not again.

  He stood with his hands safely at his sides. “Take off your clothes.”

  Disappointment flashed in Sadie’s eyes, but she began unbuttoning her dress.

  “I want to watch,” he added.

  And he did enjoy the show. Her deft fingers exposed more and more dark, velvety skin. His fingers itched to help her, but he couldn’t seem to move. One by one, she tossed her garments across the back of a nearby chair.

  The breeze from her movements sent the candle flames into an erotic dance. They almost looked evil.

  Do it, Henry, they seemed to mock. Kill her, too…

  His fingers contracted until his knuckles ached. He pulled a breath past the heavy blockage pushing against his chest. When the candlelight bathed her curves, it stopped looking so sinister. Her breasts had never appeared more luscious. Burnished gold where the light shone. Black at the swollen tips. His mouth watered, anxious to suck the nipples until they were wet and glistening. A tongue of desire licked his thighs, settling in his groin.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Aren’t you going to undress?”

  “Lie down first.” Was that strangled voice his?

  “All right.” She shot him a shy smile. “I kind of like it when you tell me what to do.”

  When she bent to pull down the sheet, the tantalizing view of her bare ass seized his balls with lust and didn’t let go. After she lay down, he stood beside the bed, still fully clothed. What was wrong with him? It was too late to back out, and he wanted this. His stone-hard shaft was a gale-force wind, ready to blow his clothes to pieces.

  Luckily, Sadie enjoyed being in charge. With the capable hands he loved to watch at work, she unfastened his trousers. In seconds, his erection was loose and playing with her fingers. He leaned his head back and groaned when she handled his balls and then his shaft. As he’d fantasized so many times, she gripped him hard.

  “Harder.”

  Watching her dark fingers flash across his swollen, red flesh made his balls lift and tighten. If he let her go much longer, he’d spill his seed in her palm, ruining their plans.

  “Sadie, stop!”

  She dropped her hand and shot him an annoyed look. “Harder? Stop? Man, make up your mind.”

  Her sass only brought him closer to the edge. What if he made her angry enough to punch him again? Or slap his aching cock until he came? To get his mind off his impending climax, he unbuttoned his shirt and kicked off his shoes and trousers. In seconds, he was as naked as she was.

  “It’s about time,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m a little cold down here.”

  “Not for long,” he promised as he fumbled in the nightstand drawer and pulled out the paper packet.

  I sure hope this one holds up better than the last one.

  Fear and desire wrestled inside his body, like the wind and the sea during a hurricane. Forcing himself to breathe slowly, he unrolled the sheath down his cock.

  “Spread your legs,” he told Sadie. “Let me see how ready you are for me.”

  Her rounded thighs parted, revealing a patch of dark hair and soaked folds. She was definitely ready. Her cunt was beautiful—as lush as the rest of her. A man could get lost navigating those creamy layers of brown, pink, and every hue in between. Best of all was her large clitoris—erect, triangular, and glistening wet. How he’d love to suck on it someday.

  But, tonight, he needed to bury his shaft inside her before he ejaculated. She deserved the best he could give. To make up for her hard life and for helping him with a job he hated. Most of all, he needed to treat her better than the rotten ex-husband who’d left her.

  With his sheathed erection jutting out in front of him, he knelt on the bed between her outspread thighs. And stared at her beauty. He knew she offered him more than her body. She gave him everything. Her trust. Her fears. Her soul.

  What if he let her down?

  He leaned forward, ready to brace his hands on either side of her. Ready to slide into her heat and make her his, once and for all. They’d both needed this for so long.

  Before his eyes, her dark body grew pale and freckled. Her curves shrank to a small, more angular frame, and her upswept black hair turned long and red. Intelligent brown eyes, full of trust, turned to innocent green ones.

  But trust still gleamed in them.

  “Now, Henry,” she whispered. “Now.”

  Even the voice was different. Higher.

  Natalie.

  As if pulled by an invisible hand, his gaze drifted to the juncture of her parted legs. To the spot of blood on the sheet. After all, he’d taken her virginity. But the stain widened to a pool of red. Spreading to the edge of his narrow mattress. Too much. Too late. Natalie’s skin paled before his eyes until she was as white as the sheet she lay on. Not a sheet. A shroud.

  Henry’s arms shook all the way to his shoulder sockets before he could lower his hands. The scent of wax burrowed into his head until it ached.

  “No! No!”

  “No?” Natalie lifted her head. “What do you mean, no?”

  Or was it Sadie?

  “Henry, are you feeling ill?”

  The pressure in his cock leaked to nothing. He had to get out of this cottage. Away from those spread legs. Bile stung his throat. He gasped as he swallowed it down.

  “I-I can’t do this.”

  “What!”

  The voice was strong enough to strip wallpaper. Sadie was back. Hell, she was Sadie all along, not Natalie. But it was too late.

  While he stumbled off the mattress and into his trousers, she pulled the sheet over herself. Her face was a mask of mute shock. Thankfully, she didn’t say or do anything else. As soon as he got his trousers on, he grabbed his shirt and shoes and scrambled out the door. He’d finish dressing somewhere else.

  Anywhere else but that bed.

  Sadie lay on Henry’s sheets, hoping she was just having a bad dream. After taking one look at her, the man had fled in horror. And right before he did, he’d looked as if he was about to throw up all over her.

  Flipping under the sheet, she buried her face in the pillow and screamed into it. After getting a nose full of his scent, she tossed it aside and fumbled for her clothes.

  I’m ugly!

  Hadn’t she always known it? What Henry had just done to her was even worse than Buck leaving her. She should never have come here. What an idiot she’d been. Wearing her best dress. Fixing her hair.

  Her worst nightmare had come true.

  With shaking hands, she buttoned her dress. It took her two tries to get it right. Her heart beat so fast, her head swam with nausea. How romantic. She and Henry made each other sick.

  He’d fooled her, acting like he wanted her during their earlier encounters. Of course, he’d never seen her fully unclothed before. The sight of her body obviously filled him with disgust. Nothing made a girl feel more desirable than watching a man’s erection shrivel before her eyes.

  In candlelight, no less. One by one, she blew out each candle, oblivious of the wax she splattered everywhere. He deserved to have her tip them over. Set this dump on fire. But the last thing she needed was to get arrested for arson.

  Anger ripped through her limbs with the force of lightning. She almost wished he were here to punch. No, she never wanted to see him again. The bottle of wine mocked her from the kitchen area. After stalking toward it, she picked it up and flung it against the wall.

  The shatter of glass and the ugly red stain made her feel a little better. She slipped into her jacket and out the door. Where was Henry? She didn’t care as
long as he stayed away.

  She stumbled toward the pier in her church shoes and got into the family rowboat. God, she hated rowing this damn thing, especially at night. Her panties were as cold and wet as the water around her.

  As she pulled out of Oyster Harbor, the familiar seasickness circled her like a flock of buzzards.

  “Get lost!” she told it. Henry sure wasn’t worth getting sick over.

  Pretending it was his neck, she gripped the oar hard enough to choke it. When she reached the inlet of Crab Creek, her stomach felt a little better. If only she could hide here the rest of her life. But the current caught the bow of the boat.

  Damn it to hell. She was tangled in someone’s crab line. It seemed to be stuck in a splintered part of the wood. Leroy needed to get up here and repair this piece of junk. A wave hit with a sickening lurch. What if she capsized? She wasn’t a very good swimmer. Then again, drowning tonight might be a blessing.

  She practically had to stand on her head to get the boat loose. In the process, she ripped her stockings and stained her best dress with marsh mud. The sickening crack of wood made her wonder if she’d left too much of the boat behind. She rowed like a madwoman to get home before the thing sank.

  “Damn you, Henry Rockfield,” she shouted at the water and the sky. “Damn you!”

  By the time she pulled into her yard, mud and tears streaked her face. Light shone through the window. Her head dropped as she tied up the boat. Why was Mama awake at this hour? This just wasn’t her night.

  Before she’d left, Sadie had told her she might not return until morning.

  “You messin’ around with Henry Rockfield, ain’t you?” she’d asked.

  Sadie hadn’t answered but didn’t have to. Mama had seen the look on her face.

  “Like I told Pearl when she was messin’ with his brother, marry him before he gets tired of you. Because he will. Especially you,” she added. “Because you ain’t nearly as pretty as your cousin.”

  Sadie shook the conversation and sea spray out of her hair. She could not talk to Mama tonight. Not after what she’d been through. When she opened the door, her mother was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee.

  “What are you doing up so late?” Sadie asked, tossing off her sweater.

  “Couldn’t sleep without you here.” Mama eyed her over the rim of her cup. “I thought you were spending the night with Mr. Rockfield.”

  “I told you no such thing.”

  “Then where were you? And what happened to your dress?”

  “Leroy needs to fix that damn boat. I almost drowned.”

  “That’ll teach you not to run around at night like some kind of whore.”

  Whore. Sadie squelched a wry laugh. She wasn’t pretty enough to be one of those, either.

  “Not now, Mama.” Her voice broke. “I’m very tired.”

  But Mama was as stubborn as an old dog. She beat Sadie to her bedroom door and stood in front of it.

  “Now you tell me what you was up to and you tell me right now.” She pointed a demanding finger. “Do we still have jobs?”

  Sadie covered her face with her hands. She hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Henry obviously couldn’t stand the sight of her anymore. It wouldn’t surprise her if he fired both her and her mother.

  “I don’t know yet. Tonight didn’t…go well.”

  “You can’t do nothin’ right, can you?” Mama shook her fist. “Why couldn’t you just do your shuckin’ and mind your own business?”

  “Because I can’t stand that life,” Sadie ground out behind a clenched jaw.

  “No, you had to put on airs. Doin’ that fancy business figuring.”

  “You don’t complain about the extra money, do you?” Sadie retorted.

  “No, but with all those brains, you’re awful dumb to believe a powerful white man would want you. Buck walked out on you, didn’t he? And he’s one of us.”

  Something snapped inside Sadie. She’d always held back because Mama was old and had had a hard life. But, after tonight, she couldn’t take any more of the woman’s criticism.

  “Leave me be!” she yelled.

  “Don’t you talk to your mother that way.”

  “I mean it, Mama.” Sadie stared her down. “I’m beyond tired of your insults. If one more nasty word comes out of your mouth, so help me I’ll rip your tongue out!”

  Mama stared, too, her eyes full of hardness and sass. Sadie gasped, realizing she looked into a mirror. Seeing her older self. To her surprise, the other woman’s face crumpled. With shaking shoulders, Mama ran to her bedroom and slammed the door.

  The sound of her sobs raked Sadie’s chest, making her forget about tonight’s humiliation. She hadn’t cried like that since Papa had died. Why couldn’t they talk tomorrow? Everything would look better then. Couldn’t look much worse.

  She opened Mama’s door and found her sitting slumped on her bed. Her work-worn hand held a ragged hanky to her face. Unlike Henry’s, this bed was bowed in the middle from age. A faded picture of Sadie’s late father hung over it. The woman had never appeared more pitiful and helpless.

  Sadie sat beside her. “Don’t cry, Mama. I’m sorry.”

  The other woman sniffed. “No, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “Could have fooled me. You put me down all the time.” Sadie jabbed the air with her fingers. “How do you think that makes me feel?”

  “I—”

  “I know I’m not as pretty as Pearl, or Rose, or most other women. I don’t need you to keep rubbing my face in it.”

  “You gonna let me explain or not?”

  Sadie pursed her lips. “Go ahead. This ought to be good.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I ain’t pretty, either,” Mama said.

  “You’re not supposed to be. You’re old.”

  “Hmph.” A smile flickered on her lips. “I meant when I was young like you. My mama died young, so I didn’t have a woman to warn me.”

  “About what?” Sadie asked, wondering if her mother was growing senile. She sure didn’t make much sense.

  “About what life is like here for a colored woman. Especially one without the special beauty your cousin’s got. The rejections. The looks of disgust. That is, if people even look at you at all.”

  Life must have been even harder twenty years ago.

  Mama wiped her nose. “If I constantly told you how special and beautiful you are, the rest of the world would hurt you more.”

  Sadie frowned. “You mean you’ve been trying to toughen me up?”

  “I suppose so.” She patted her daughter’s knee. “I guess I overdid it. You’re better off than I was because you’ve got smarts.”

  Had her mother just complimented her? Maybe the whole night was a dream after all.

  “Then why don’t you ever tell me? Would it kill you to be proud of me once in a while?”

  Mama gripped her arm and stared into her eyes with such intense love, Sadie shivered.

  “Girl, I am proud of you. So proud.”

  Sadie covered her mouth with her hand. “Truly?”

  How could she not have realized it?

  Mama nodded. “You take care of us real good. I’m glad Buck left so I have you all to myself.”

  Speechless, Sadie left her mother’s room and drifted into hers. The notes she’d written from the business books, scrawled across her walls, mocked her. If only she and Henry had kept things all business.

  The cracked mirror, loose doorknob, and tinge of mildew reminded her how imperfect she was. She collapsed onto the small bed and rolled to her side, careful not to dislodge the slab of wood supporting its one short leg. After tonight, she’d never lie on her back again.

  She was smart, she reminded herself. Wasn’t that more important than how she looked? And if Mama believed she was beautiful, did it really matter what he thought of her? Not in the long run.

  In the meantime s
he had to figure out what to do with her broken heart. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t find the answer in a business book.

  Chapter Ten

  Henry staggered away from his cottage, dressing himself as he went. Natalie drifted away with each step until she returned to what she’d been for years, a shadow of a memory. Why had he seen her so clearly—so gruesomely—in his bed?

  As Natalie receded, the vision of Sadie strengthened. One by one, he remembered details like the candles and wine. Her pretty dress. The trust in her eyes. Tonight was supposed to be so special.

  Shuddering, he put himself in her place. She had no idea who Natalie was because he’d never told her. To her, his odd behavior must have resembled disgust and rejection. She was so sensitive about her looks, he couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d tried.

  She’d never forgive him. Instead, she’d hate him. Might even seek revenge. Unfortunately, she held Rockfield’s in the palm of her hand. Day by day, he’d given her power. If she wanted to, she could sabotage everything.

  He was as sunk as a boat with a hole in it. Why had he been stupid enough to mix business with passion? He had to tell Caleb. Everything. To finally admit what a complete failure he was. Staring at the black water, he was tempted to throw himself into it.

  Henry stopped and clenched his fists, welcoming the pressure in his knuckles. He was a man, for God’s sake. Not a scared boy. Sadie needed his apology, explanation, and compassion right now.

  Doing an about face, he headed back home to repair the damage he’d done. Most of all, he needed to make sure she was all right. The last thing he wanted was for her to dash off into the night, upset, and drown herself in that boat.

  His cottage was empty and dark inside. She must have blown all the candles out. Any hope for their love was extinguished as well.

  “Sadie,” he called out as he turned on the light.

  The sheets lay in a jumbled heap on the bed, but they were free of blood. How could he have seen something that wasn’t there? But when he turned toward the kitchen area, he gasped. A large, red stain marred the wall and shards of broken glass lay on the floor. She must have thrown the wine bottle.