Rose, Exposed

by Afton Locke

  “You look a little peaked.” Caleb took her bag. “Rough seas?”

  “No, I was just remembering—”

  Pearl linked arms with her. “Don’t think of that. Leroy is eager to see you again.”

  “Where is he?” Rose asked. “I figured he’d be here with you.”

  “He’s at your parents’ home along with his family. They’re all getting…acquainted.”

  Rose couldn’t help smiling when she imagined Wilma Johnson conversing with her father.

  “Why did you arrange this picnic?” she asked Pearl when they reached the car.

  “Because we were tired of seeing Leroy look so heartsick all the time,” Caleb said.

  So he had waited for her. Maybe it wasn’t too late after all. Rose was tempted to tell Caleb and Pearl her decision to marry Leroy, but he needed to be the first to know.

  Not long after, Caleb drove down her parents’ driveway. Rose could hardly believe what she saw. Both her family and Leroy’s sat at a long outdoor table, eating barbecued chicken with all the fixings. It reminded her of the fish fry.

  Leroy emerged from the crowd, wearing his Sunday white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a tie. He approached the car and opened the back door for her. Her gaze latched onto his as she took his hands and stepped from the running board to the ground.

  “I missed you, sweet girl,” he whispered when his familiar arms slid around her waist.

  “Oh God, Leroy,” she cried, burying her head against his warm chest and inhaling his familiar scent. “I missed you too.”

  “You wore my favorite dress.”

  It had been an easy decision to choose the dress she’d worn the first time they’d kissed and made love. Did he realize tonight had another first in store for them?

  He took her hand and gestured to the waiting crowd that watched them. “Shall we?”

  Should she tell him now? The news bubbled up inside her. They’d already waited this long. Choosing just the right moment would be worth a little more delay.

  She hugged her parents first. “Thank you for giving your blessing, Father.”

  He dabbed some barbecue sauce from his mouth with one hand and gave her an awkward pat on the back with the other. “Leroy certainly is persistent.”

  “I forgive you,” she mumbled to them both.

  “Speak up,” Father said. “Enunciation is important, you know.”

  Rose couldn’t help smiling. “It was nothing.”

  “Sit down and eat,” Mother said. “You’re thin as a rail.”

  “I will in a moment.” Rose had someone else to thank first.

  Her knees trembled when she approached Wilma and Sadie. “Hello.”

  “Glad you could come, Rose,” the older woman said.

  “Nice to see you,” Sadie added after her mother elbowed her in the ribs.

  Rose smiled. “Thank you for your letter. It meant a lot to me.”

  Then an awful thought occurred to her. What if Leroy had forged it?

  His mother shrugged. “He needs a woman and you seem to make him happy.”

  Rose took the seat Pearl pointed out. It was across from Leroy and strategically located between the two families. Leroy ate his corn on the cob the same way he did everything else—with passion and gusto. Watching the melted butter drip across his strong fingers reminded her of seeing her passionate juices on his skin. Heat built between her thighs and burned her chest.

  She hadn’t worn underwear or stockings tonight because she didn’t want anything between her and Leroy when they reunited. Hopefully, their families didn’t suspect there was nothing between her bare, wet pussy and the seat except her dress. Did Leroy know? Under the table, his feet enclosed one of hers. Every now and then, he shot her a look steamier than the corn. Maybe he did know.

  How could she ever have thought she could live without him? The nightmare of the rope flashed before her eyes. This love had always been such a blessing in her life, something she’d never doubt again.

  Wilma Johnson, who was on Rose’s right, leaned forward to talk to her mother on her left.

  “What church do you go to here, Mrs. Wainwright?”

  Mother’s fork paused midair. “We worship at home.”

  Wilma’s snort indicated what she thought of that. Even before Father’s plan to make Rose white, he thought the black churches were too common and knew the white churches would never accept them. Their families were definitely different, but not enough to keep her from her man. Not anymore.

  Pearl’s worried gaze darted between the two women. “Everyone worships differently. Mrs. Wainwright, there’s a church not far from here you’re welcome to attend. There’s another on Crab Creek where Mrs. Johnson goes.”

  “You don’t work do you?” Wilma asked next.

  Mother managed to swallow this time, but it resulted in an audible gulp. “No.”

  “So what do you do with yourself all day? Judging by this fancified salad, you ain’t much of a cook.” She picked through it with her fork. “I can’t even identify half of what you put in here.”

  Leroy shot his mother a warning glare. “Mama.”

  Mother blinked, but didn’t look offended. “I suppose you’re right. Rose is good at painting, but I have no talents to speak of. With her out of the house, I do have more idle time.”

  Mrs. Johnson ate a big forkful of beans. “Wouldn’t hurt you to attend church. There’s lots to do there—singing, volunteering, managing the collections.”

  “Money is the best hobby there is,” Mr. Wainwright added with a good-humored laugh. “But a woman’s place is in the home.”

  Mrs. Johnson gave him a withering glance. “Some women got bills to pay and have to work.”

  Mr. Wainwright wrinkled his nose. “Oh, yes. What is it you do again? Shuck oysters?”

  Leroy glanced at Rose with an amused twinkle in his eye. Their families didn’t have much in common, but at least they’d managed to sit here together without killing each other. It was a start.

  After the meal, he stood. “Come on, Rose. Let’s take a walk.”

  She took his hand and wasn’t surprised when he led her to the waterfront.

  “This is where we started courting, remember?” he asked.

  “It seems so long ago now,” she replied.

  The moment to tell him her decision was close at hand, but the thought made her stomach flutter. She was surprised he hadn’t asked her about it yet.

  “Like I said in my letter, I nearly had to tie myself down so I wouldn’t run to Baltimore,” he said as they strolled.

  “I’m almost surprised you didn’t,” she admitted.

  He tightened his grip on her hand. “You asked for time and I had to give it to you.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He’d come a long way since the day he’d picked her up as if she were a sack of feed and tried to force her to comply with his demands.

  “Every time I almost lost you, it was as though I’d lost my father all again, but then the butterfly… I mean, it’s all right now.”

  “Leroy, I—” she began but at the sight of their oak tree, the words died in her mouth.

  When she saw the wooden structure on the limb where they used to sit, a sharp pain pierced her in the gut. For a few horrible seconds, she thought the Klan had decided to hang him after all.

  She grabbed his arm and dug her nails into it. “Leroy, no!”

  He frowned in confusion. “I thought you’d like the tree house.”

  “Tree house?” she asked, a blush burning her cheeks.

  “Yes. Mr. Wainwright gave me permission to build it for you.”

  She clapped. It would be the perfect place to give him her answer. “Show it to me!”

  “I intend to,” he replied as he gave her a foothold to help her up the tree.

  When she reached the top, she realized the structure was a plank of wood with supports under it and that it was big enough for two people to lie on. After climbing
up behind her, he sat beside her and leaned against the tree trunk.

  Inhaling the clean scent of fresh lumber, she ran her fingers over his handiwork. “You’re so talented at this.”

  “Building things takes patience, one board at a time,” he replied with an easy grin. “Building a house isn’t too different from building a future.”

  Who was this new calm person? The angry, possessive man with the flashing eyes was gone. Then he wiggled behind her and clasped his arm around her waist.

  “Remember this?” he whispered in her ear.

  She stroked the skin of his arm, exposed by having his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow. “I remember I almost fell out of the tree. This arm saved me.”

  “With the tree house here now, you can leave my arm there or move it away. It’s up to you, Rose.”

  She pivoted in his embrace, unable to stand the suspense any longer. “You haven’t asked me— I mean, unless you’ve changed—”

  He shook his head and steadied her with the calm warmth of his dark gaze. “I haven’t changed. I know you’ll tell me your answer when you’re ready.”

  Closing her eyes, she recalled the first time he’d touched her in this tree, his thumbs tracing lazy arcs against the undersides of her breasts. The strong calloused hands that had stroked her legs…

  She rested her hands on his shoulders. “Convince me.”

  He cocked his head. “Come again?”

  “Convince me.”

  Understanding sparked in his eyes along with the passion she’d awakened. His hand cupped her breast, as if testing the weight, before his fingertips teased at the swelling bud under the fabric. The scents of their arousal mixed with the fresh wood, making her head buzz harder than a power line.

  She widened her legs under her dress to release the damp heat building there. Knowing what she needed, his hand traveled across her hip, tracing each hollow and indentation. Her skin itched with the need to shed her clothing. She had to feel his hot, dark skin against every bit of hers before she exploded.

  Rose pulled out of his arms to lie, facing him, on the wooden floor. He drew up one of his knees and he rested his arm on it, exposing the hard ridge of pleasure inside his trousers. The pulse in her pussy throbbed so hard, she swore it shook every leaf of the tree.

  “Leroy,” she muttered, pulling a lock of hair off her damp face.

  Bracing his hands beside her on the wood, he leaned over her and teased her mouth open with his tongue. She didn’t need much coaxing. With a sigh, her lips opened to him. Her eyes fluttered closed as his chest lowered to press against hers, squeezing her between his muscular body and the hard wood beneath her.

  “Yes, Leroy, yes.” Her thighs opened to cradle his waist. “Fuck me on this slab of wood. Fuck me hard.”

  “You still like it hard, do you, Rose?”

  He answered her nod with a sharp grunt of desire. The last thing she expected him to do was roll to the side and sigh.

  “I can’t.”

  A bonfire roared between her legs, making it hard to talk. “W-what? What do you mean you can’t?”

  The passion flaring in his eyes dimmed to something remote and cool. “I won’t convince you that way. Not anymore.”

  She sat up and traced his damp jaw with her fingertips. “I don’t need convincing this time. I’ve known my answer for a while now.”

  His eyebrows raised. “You have?”

  “Yes.”

  His beautiful mouth rose and then lowered on one side. “Were you planning on telling me what it is?”

  She grasped his face with both hands. “I just told you. Yes! Yes, I want to marry you, Leroy Johnson.”

  His mouth trembled and his eyes glowed with all the hope and happiness she’d put there. “Truly?”

  “Truly. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

  “What finally took away your doubts?” he asked. “If it was Cali, tell her I’ll build her a mansion to thank her.”

  She shook her head. “I went back to my old homeplace and realized how much it affected me. I’ve felt like a prisoner most of my life.”

  “Marriage must have seemed the biggest prison of all.”

  “Not anymore.” Emotion swelled her throat, making it hard to talk. “Nothing lies between us now. Nothing.”

  He squeezed her hard, burying his face against her shoulder for several long moments. She dared not move, afraid to break the spell. When he pulled away, the fabric was damp with his tears. The realization that she’d moved this big, strong man to such emotion made her sink her nails into her palms as stinging heat built behind her eyes.

  “You just made me the happiest man in the state of Maryland,” he said. “I can hardly believe it.”

  “Believe it.” Tears rimmed her lashes as she spoke. “I just wish I hadn’t put you through so much. God, Leroy. I’m so sorry…for everything!”

  He enclosed her clenched fist with his big hand. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not. Papa taught me nothing worth having in this life is ever easy.”

  “I’ll be the best wife ever, I swear. You deserve it.”

  He caught a tear with his fingertip as it rolled down her cheek and put it to his lips. “I know you will.”

  As the sky slipped into a darker shade of blue with the coming evening, a chorus of bugs serenaded them. She could lie in his arms up here forever, lost in their private world, but her body pulsed with need. Her clitoris and nipples were so hard they throbbed.

  He brought her hand to his mouth, making her shiver when he slipped his tongue between each of her fingers. “You still want it hard, sweet girl?”

  “You know I do.” With feverish hands, she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers over the coarse hairs in the valley of his breastbone. His trousers were next. She moaned as the hot, velvety head of his cock sprang against her hand with the energy of an eager pet.

  She breathed hard while he dragged the hem of her dress up to her waist, exposing her bare pussy.

  “Rose, you naughty girl. You mean to tell me you just sat through our family barbecue with no drawers on?”

  “Yes.” Her giggles stopped when his insistent fingers spread apart her labia and smeared her copious juices everywhere he could reach—between her thighs, across the hairs on her mound and down to the bud of her anus. She wriggled, coaxing him to spear her with a finger. When he inserted two into her cunt, her back arched sharply, making her head hit the wood, but the sweet ache in her breasts blotted out any pain.

  She unbuttoned the bodice of her dress, reached under her bra and squeezed one of her nipples, pulling it hard in anticipation of the pounding Leroy’s stout cock was about to give her. The slab of wood would bang her backside as the brick wall near that jazz club had.

  Searing hot fluid leaked out of her cunt as she scraped the sensitive skin of her buttocks across the rough, splintery surface. Needing his cock more than ever, she spread her legs as wide as they would go, straining the muscles of her thighs almost to the breaking point.

  “Fuck me now, Leroy. Now!”

  After pulling a condom out of his pocket and sheathing himself, the cool kiss of wet, hard rubber slid across her clitoris.

  “Wait,” she called out.

  “Rose.” He grunted his frustration and stopped moving. “What is it?”

  She turned her head to indicate the wood. “Do you think it’s strong enough?”

  The best lovemaking of her life wouldn’t be worth it if they fell to their deaths in the middle of it.

  “Oh, it’s strong enough. Just as strong as our love,” he said as he slid inside her and hammered her with the skill of a true carpenter.

  About the Author

  By day, Afton Locke is a logical programmer, but by night she swims in the mystical world of dreams. Intrigued by all things unexplained, like ghosts and karma, she delights in spinning dark, sensual stories that pull readers below the surface of everyday (and sometimes boring) life to the depths of forbidden fantasy.

  What
else would you expect from someone with her moon in the 12th house/Pisces and Neptune in the 8th house/Scorpio? She lives in the mountains with her husband, dog and spooky black cat.

  Unlock your darkest fantasies with Afton Locke.

  Afton welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

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  Also by Afton Locke

  Candelabra

  Cicada

  Peak Energy

  Plucking the Pearl

  Seven Minutes of Seduction

  Sexual Energy

  Print books by Afton Locke

  Plucking the Pearl

  Sexual Energy

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Rose, Exposed

  ISBN 9781419945205

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Rose, Exposed Copyright © 2013 Afton Locke

  Edited by Briana St. James

  Cover design by Syneca

  Cover photography by Luis Louro, L.F. CHINA/Shutterstock.com

  Electronic book publication March 2013

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