Rose, Exposed

by Afton Locke

With her pulse pattering from a mixture of excitement and trepidation, she did as he asked. Out in the open, they had more of a chance of being seen, but she was just as relieved to escape the cramped shed as he was.

  If only they could dance openly in the moonlight as they’d done at Pearl Point.

  Leroy disappeared into a thicket and she followed without a word. He helped her into the small rowboat, settling her on the plank seat in back while he took the front. A long rope attached the boat to a tree, letting them drift out a little from the bank.

  “This is nice,” she said, breathing in the warm salt of the evening air.

  Fish jumped all around them as steadily as raindrops, and Leroy’s skin looked dark and mysterious in the shadows.

  “I need to ask you something,” he said.

  She sighed. Didn’t he ever give up? “I told you I can’t elope with you now.”

  He held up a hand. “Not that. There’s a fish fry in my old neighborhood tomorrow. I want you to come and meet my family.”

  Dozens of emotions rushed through her mind. “I’d be honored to but—”

  “But what?” He toyed with his plaid cap. “Can’t you skip one day at that school? You’re such a talented artist it shouldn’t matter.”

  She stared at her hands in her lap. “As it happens, there are no classes this weekend. The Carters invited me to their home.”

  “Aw, hell. You said no, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “What if they wonder where I’ve gone? Besides, your family may not like me.”

  “First, you have a lot more freedom at this school than you did at home. Second, my family will love you. You’re going and that’s final.”

  Rose picked up a twig from the bottom of the boat and threw it into the water. “I don’t like being told what to do, Leroy.”

  He moved to the middle seat and gestured for her to sit on his lap. Her muscles weakened at the sight of his tight-fitting trousers. Realizing his nearness would weaken her resolve, she hesitated before sitting sideways across his thighs.

  “I can’t help myself, sweet girl.” He toyed with her long hair, sending waves of pleasure across her scalp. “I’m always so afraid of losing you I have to grab on tight.”

  As if to emphasize his point, he grabbed her hips and pulled them farther up his thighs so his bulging erection pressed the tender hollow between her legs. The heat from his legs and crotch burned through their clothing, igniting her flesh. Her clitoris, tender ever since he’d made love to her, throbbed with need. She glanced around, seeing nothing but water and marsh bushes.

  “Nobody can see us,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m going to fuck you on this boat.”

  She gasped and tried to stand, but he held her hips firmly in place on his lap.

  “You can’t say no to everything,” he complained. “You won’t marry me yet and you won’t meet my family. I’ll make a deal with you. If I can manage to get my cock inside you tonight, you’re coming to the fish fry tomorrow.”

  “Fine,” she said, convinced he wouldn’t succeed.

  Leroy, however, turned out to be a very determined man. He kissed her slowly and deeply, filling her mouth with his tongue as it made leisurely thrusts. Her cunt ached with each invasion, imagining his cock inside her as well. She moaned while slippery heat filled her step-in panties, making her slide on his bulge.

  Next, he pinched her nipples through the cotton fabric of her periwinkle-blue dress. The first tingling sting made her squirm across his legs.

  “Is this enough?” he asked. “I know you like it rough.”

  “Yes,” she whispered frantically. “Squeeze them harder.”

  He did as she asked, turning the sting to deep pressure that rolled her eyes deep in their sockets. She needed him to squeeze her clitoris that way too. Clenching her teeth, she sought to regain control of her traitorous body. She would not let him win and allow yet another decision to be made for her by a man.

  “You’re wet, Rose,” he declared with satisfaction. “I can hear the juices in your pussy.”

  She tried to hold perfectly still, but everything else moved—the boat and the powerful muscles of his thighs. The sound of her sticky arousal competed with the steady lapping of water against the boat.

  When he reached under the skirt of her dress, she was helpless to stop him.

  “I like these bloomers much better than the other ones,” he said. “I can reach your cunt without ripping them.”

  Her eyes squeezed shut when he did just that, skimming his fingers past the loose, silky leg openings and over her lips, then plunging one deep inside. The scent of her desire, no longer fettered by her clothing, mixed with the salty water around them. Her pussy muscles clutched his finger, refusing to let him go.

  “Th-they’re not bloomers,” she told him, barely able to talk. “They’re called step-ins and my roommate gave them to me this morning. She says no one wears bloomers anymore but old ladies.”

  He paused. “You’re wearing a white girl’s drawers? Did she wear them before you?”

  “Of course not. They’re new and Mary had extras.” She wriggled her hips. “Now will you please stop talking?”

  He obeyed, and as if to torture her, he moved his digit in slow, odd angles, echoing pleasures in parts of her body she didn’t know she had. The man knew exactly how to make her mad with desire. Rose’s fingers skittered across his back, clawing, pinching and pulling the green shirt fabric, which was damp with his sweat. It was all she could do not to tear off their clothes and pull them both overboard.

  What would the river feel like all over her aroused body? How would Leroy’s erection feel if it slipped inside her underwater? When he pulled his finger out of her, she swore her burning, swollen pussy would have cried out in anger if it had a voice.

  He pulled a condom packet from his pocket.

  “No,” she said, pushing it away. “We don’t need it.”

  His eyebrows rose. “It’s too soon to get you with child, isn’t it?”

  “I mean we don’t need it tonight. I-I have to go.”

  He pushed her hips farther down his thighs, undid his trousers and released his cock along with a heady aroma of his musk. Despite herself, she closed her eyes and inhaled.

  “You know you need this, Rose.” He swiped the pool of clear fluid at the tip of his penis and held it to her lips. She couldn’t resist sucking every drop off his fingers, where she tasted traces of herself as well.

  “I don’t.” Was that feeble whisper hers?

  The sound of the condom unrolling down his shaft caused her entire body to tremble with longing. Leroy clutched his powerful hand around his sheathed cock. The scent of rubber and aroused man almost made her swoon and fall overboard.

  A raging fire burned in her loins. No longer able to control her movements, she stood on wobbly legs, lifted the hem of her dress and moaned aloud as she faced him and speared herself on his waiting erection.

  “I win.” As if to prove it, he held her for a few moments in an iron grip. Then pulling out of her, he turned her so her back was against his chest.

  “Yes,” she cried as his girth filled her again. “You win.”

  “To prove I don’t want to run your life, I’m going to let you do all the work.”

  She didn’t care who did what as long as his cock didn’t leave her body. The boat trembled in the water. She lifted up until the rounded head teased her clitoris and then crashed down again. The force of her movement shook her womb and possibly every organ in her body.

  Why couldn’t she be soft with this man? Why couldn’t she ever seem to get enough of his hardness?

  The wet condom slid against her drenched flesh. She swore she could feel every bulging vein in Leroy’s swollen penis. Each time she lifted and lowered herself, her pussy swelled, building toward a release as powerful as dynamite. The boat matched her thrusts, sinking low into the water when she descended and rising again when she did.

  “Lord, I’m going to sink thi
s boat,” she said.

  He stroked her leg. “Don’t worry about the boat. Just keep doing that.”

  Each muscle in her groin and thighs tightened so much she could no longer stand up again. The man had made her completely senseless.

  “I can’t,” she muttered, panting.

  “You mean you’re going to let me take over?”

  “Please,” she begged. “Please finish it. Drive your cock into me.”

  He stood, moving her with him.

  “Lean over and hold onto the seat in front of you for dear life.”

  She dug her fingers into the rough wood of the back seat plank, oblivious of the splinter that needled into her finger. Then she felt the skirt of her dress being lifted, exposing her drenched cunt to the air. Leroy gripped her hips and plunged into her, reclaiming her depths as his own. In this position, he penetrated her more deeply than ever before but pleasure soon drowned out the first twinge of discomfort.

  Pounding her hips backward, Rose demanded more. More cock, more power, more everything. In the resulting blur of rapid-fire motion and colliding of slippery, hungry bodies, Rose’s mind disconnected and floated up and down on the excruciatingly intense waves of pleasure.

  The explosion consumed all of her. Her body contracted while her arms gave out. Leroy prevented her from falling, clutching her waist while he shot his seed into the condom. She rolled her head back on his shoulder, unable to hold it up, as the last of their spasms died to nothing again.

  “You win,” she whispered.

  “We both did,” he replied. “Wear that pretty dress of yours with the roses on it to the fish fry.”

  “All right.” At the moment, she would have stood on her head too if he’d asked.

  As Rose caught her breath, she thought about tomorrow. It was hard to imagine meeting Leroy’s family after acting like such a whore. Maybe women like her were prostitutes because they had such hungry bodies.

  Tomorrow would put them one step closer to being husband and wife. The thought roused every butterfly in her stomach to flight.

  He blew out a gusty breath. “I swear, Rose. You’re wilder than an alley cat. How can a girl act so white and proper one minute and want to play so rough the next?”

  She wouldn’t have known what to answer if he hadn’t said play. “Maybe it was because I never got to play rough as a child. Father always told me to act like a lady and wouldn’t let me play with the colored children in the neighborhood.”

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  “The same reason he doesn’t let me play with you,” she replied. “He thought they weren’t good enough, but the white children thought I wasn’t good enough for them.”

  She clutched his hand, fighting against the lonely memories that swept over her. “One day I tripped on the sidewalk on purpose. I soiled my dress and skinned my knee, making it bleed.”

  “Was your father angry?”

  “Furious.” She smiled. “The scrape hurt a little, but it made me feel so…alive. So real. Does that make sense?”

  He kissed her forehead and patted both knees. “I think so, and, Rose, I’ll play with you anytime you want.”

  “What’s your family like?” she asked.

  Did he hesitate for a moment?

  “There’s not much to tell. They’re simple folks.” He shrugged. “Mama has worked hard all her life shucking oysters. She goes to church every Sunday and can cook the best crab soup in the county. Sadie? Well, Sadie is Sadie.”

  Pearl seemed nice enough. She hoped the rest of them liked her more than her father did Leroy.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Rose came inside the house after making love to Leroy in the boat, lightheadedness staggered her steps. Was it the warm evening, all the rocking in the boat or the wild passion? Whenever they were together, they seemed to consume large amounts of energy. Perhaps some food would help.

  She crept into the kitchen, surprised to see Cali sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. When the woman looked up at her with her all-knowing cat eyes, Rose wished she hadn’t come. The rust-colored blouse she wore made them even more vivid than usual.

  “Hungry?” Cali asked.

  Rose sniffed the air. “Something smells very spicy, but we just had plain fish for dinner.”

  “It’s Cajun spices from the beans and rice I had for my own dinner. You want me to heat some up for you?”

  “Please don’t go to any trouble,” Rose replied in a formal voice. “A piece of bread would do nicely.”

  “Sit down, Miss Rose. I made chocolate chip cookies today and the coffee is fresh.”

  She didn’t want to anger Cali by refusing, so she took a seat at the table. Sitting on the hard wooden chair reminded her how tender her pussy was. How in the world had Leroy managed to manipulate her so? After swearing to herself she would not surrender to his charms, she did.

  Cali put a dish of cookies in the center of the table and a cup of coffee in front of Rose. She set down sugar, in a plain bowl to replace the broken one, and picked up a pitcher.

  “Do you take cream?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  The irony wasn’t lost on Rose. She raised her own eyebrow. “What do you think?”

  Cali chuckled while she poured a liberal amount of the white fluid into her cup. To Rose’s chagrin, the sight of it reminded her of the creamy whiteness of Leroy’s semen against the chocolate-brown color of his cock. Her clitoris throbbed to life again. When they married, how would they get anything done? Rose was sure they’d spend all their time making love.

  Even the sugar reminded her of what he called her—sweet girl. Starved, she devoured one cookie, followed by several more. After her hollow belly filled, she became aware of a pair of golden eyes staring at her.

  “Being with a man makes a person hungry, don’t it?”

  Good heavens. Was there anything about her this woman didn’t know?

  “How did you know about that too?” she asked.

  The other woman shrugged. “It’s written all over you. At dinner, your hair was brushed and your dress didn’t have a single wrinkle. I can’t say the same for you now.”

  If only I hadn’t worn the cotton one tonight.

  “Besides, you got that look.”

  “What look?” Rose asked, not sure she wanted to know.

  “That satisfied look.”

  Rose’s appetite faded to nothing as she looked down at her plate. “I must ask you again not to say anything.”

  “Don’t worry, child. I’m not going to say anything. You’re the most interesting girl at this school.”

  “Thank you.” Rose grabbed her cup with both hands and sipped her coffee to steady her nerves. She wanted to be like everyone else here, not interesting.

  “So who is he?” Cali asked. “And don’t tell me it’s Jonathan Carter. You deserve better.”

  Rose suppressed the smile that tried to leap across her face. Thank goodness Cali didn’t know it was Leroy.

  “A woman must have some secrets,” she said.

  Cali stared into her coffee cup as if she could see the future in it. “Agreed. I just want to know one thing. Why are you doing this?”

  Rose shrugged. “I like to paint and I wanted to learn more about it.”

  The golden gaze didn’t blink. “That’s not the real reason, is it?”

  Enough. Rose didn’t owe this woman any explanations, but it was a relief to tell someone about her plight. She certainly couldn’t tell Mary.

  “No, the real reason is my father,” she said quietly.

  The cat eyes widened. “Your father? Everyone here says poor Rose has no parents. You sure have everybody fooled, don’t you?”

  Rose looked down, wishing she could undo all the lies she’d told. “He wants what he thinks is best for me. Living between two races while not belonging to either one is difficult.”

  “I expect it would be.”

  Cali’s face was so impassive Rose couldn’t tell what she thought. Did
she approve and why did it matter?

  Then she remembered something the woman had said earlier. “What did you mean when you said you’d seen paintings of fancy women like me in New Orleans?”

  “Do you know what a quadroon is?”

  “Yes, but I have two white grandparents, not three.”

  “All the same, they used to go to special dances to meet white men and become mistresses. Even got their own houses. Did right well for themselves, even though they were caught between white and black worlds.”

  “I know exactly how they felt.” Rose wished she could have met these women like herself. “Why did you leave Louisiana to come here?”

  Cali took so long to answer Rose wasn’t sure she would.

  “My husband was a sharecropper. He worked until he died. When my sister came north, I went with her.”

  So she was a widow. Rose refrained from offering sympathy, sensing Cali didn’t want it.

  “Is your sister here in Oyster Island?”

  “No, she lives in Baltimore. We took the steamboat here one day. When I saw this beautiful place on the water, it reminded me of Louisiana.”

  “And you decided to stay,” Rose finished for her. “Do you think you’ll ever marry again?”

  Cali’s distant gaze dropped to her cup as she shook her head. “No, there will never be another man for me.”

  An unbidden voice came from deep inside Rose’s chest. There will never be any other man for you but Leroy.

  They sat in comfortable silence for a while. There was no tension here as there was at home.

  “Now what’s all this talk about fairies you’re filling the girls’ heads with?” Cali asked.

  Rose told her how the fairies had kept her company during her lonely childhood. Why not? The woman knew almost everything else about her.

  Cali’s face looked especially serious in the dim light. “You’d best be careful, child. The lwa don’t like to be mocked.”

  Rose frowned. “The what?”

  “Miss Rose, I have a secret to tell you. I’m not a Christian.”

  “Oh, I see.” The revelation temporarily left her short of breath. Everyone she’d ever known was Christian. “Then what…are you?”