I send a worried glance Whitney’s way. She sits beside me slack mouthed. She tries to viciously yank her hand from mine but I tighten my hold. Her body stiffens and I know that I have to do something…to say something to quell the tension that’s swirling in the atmosphere.
"Mother, I really don't think that's appropriate," I call her out on her callus behavior. “I love Whitney and I expect you and father to treat her with the utmost respect while she is under the Strong’s household. I have never, ever, disrespected either of you as my parents. But I will not allow either of you to hurt the woman that I hope to one day be my wife and the mother of my kids…Your grandchildren,” I narrow my eyes at the both of them.
My father’s face turns crimson with fury. His lips grow into a straight line. His mouth opens and closes, before my mother reaches over to touch his hand. A look passes between them, before they direct their attention to the two of us. Mother suddenly smiles, concealing the agitated look that was in her blue eyes just moments before.
“I've brought tea." Rosie rolls in a tea trolley, cutting off the rest of my words. On the tea tray Rosie rolls in are bite-sized sandwiches and decadent looking buttery scones on a tiered tray as well. “I figure Hart and his lady can use a tad bit of refreshment to hold them over until dinnertime.”
"Right on time, Rosie. You really do have the most impeccable timing," Mother is the first one to speak.
"Thank you, ma'am. How do you want your tea?" Rosie asks Whitney.
"Two cubes of sugar please but no milk."
Rosie pours the tea up into a delicate china cup and drops two sugar cubes before passing over the teacup and saucer to Whitney.
“Thank you, Rosie,” Whitney says and gives her a friendly smile.
“You’re very welcome, miss.” Rosie begins to pour the rest of our tea and passes them around as well.
“I need to have words with you later,” Whitney whispers to me as I pass her a sandwich from the small tray. I quickly look at her and can see anger sizzling in the depths of her brown eyes.
I draw in a sharp breath and eagerly bite into my sandwich to ward off the tongue lashing I know I’m in for. Without a doubt, I deserve every angry word she throws at me. As long as she doesn’t leave me, I’m good. Her leaving me won’t be an option, whether my parents accept her or not will be their decision, but whether I will allow her to walk out of my life, rests entirely with me.
Chapter 18
WHITNEY
I hope that I don’t regret Hart talking me into staying here. The talk I had with him the day before seemed to comfort me on some level. He assured me that things would get better if I just stuck it out. One weekend won’t be too much to do, I decide. One dinner party, that’s all. I breathe in and exhale to calm my nerves but there is a knot in the pit of my stomach that won’t go away.
Midway through my second glass of wine I realize that I need something more substantial to eat or I’m going to have a horrible hangover in the morning. I don't need to be nursing a sore head or a queasy stomach because Hart’s parents are enough trouble to give me all three.
“Dinner is served,” the announcement is made by a different maid that I haven’t seen since getting here the day before. I’m relieved that I’m about to put something on my stomach. However, my night takes a turn for the worse the moment Hart’s ex-girlfriend, Sabrina Woods, walks through the door. Had I known earlier that she’d be here, I would have not come. I begin to drink wine like it is water. My nerves are literally shot at the sight of her.
I turn up my wine glass to drain the rest of its fruity contents as I look between Sabrina and Hart. She’s dressed in an artistic, short, black dress that clings to her every perfect little curve. Her dress is sleeveless, revealing toned tanned arms that will rival Michelle Obama’s. She immediately begins to sink her hooks into Hart after she arrives and, by the looks of it, she’s winning. She can’t seem to keep her hands off of him and she’s flirting with him every chance she gets. What’s worse is he’s laughing and smiling with her and the other guests as if everything is honky dory.
I look up at the ceiling and wonder how am I going to make it through this dinner. I can feel my belly rumbling just as I follow the rest of the guests into the dining room and sit down at the elegantly dressed table. My name plate is arranged across the table from my boyfriend and his ex. Hart finally looks over at me. Oh, he finally remembered I was in the room, I think as I glare at him with disappointment. As tempting as it is to tuck my tail between my legs and run, my hunger is winning at the moment.
How in the hell am I sitting across from Hart and Sabrina is sitting right next to him? Is he the type of man that lets his parents run his life? The type to let Sabrina play him like a fined tuned piano?
After this fine meal, I’ll tell him and his snooty parents what I think of them. I don’t care who likes it either. Every last one of them can go to hell with gasoline drawers on for all I care.
“Yippy, more wine,” I mutter as the server in all black pours wine into our glasses. I look up at the brilliant beauty of the chandelier before picking up my glass and raising it in the air. I glare at Hart as I lift my glass. In my mind, it’s my farewell drink—an ode to what I thought we had. His eyes soften as he looks at me but mine harden as I tilt my wine glass to my lips and drain its contents once again. I’m not a drinker at all, so dinner passes in a blur.
“Let’s all move into the drawing room, shall we?” Mr. Strong asks.
I sit up straight from my wilting position at the dining room table. I reach for my glass of wine and bring it to my lips, but the glass is empty. “I think you’ve had enough for one night,” Hart’s breath brushes against my ear.
“Where did you come from?” I slur my words. I try to stand, but my legs lazily betray me as I slump back down onto my seat. “Why aren’t you with your girlfriend?” My tongue feels thick in my mouth as I form the words.
“You’re my girlfriend, Whitney,” he replies and half lifts me as he pulls me to his side.
“Are you coming Hart?” I look up and Sabrina is staring daggers my way from her stony blue eyes. “Aha, looks like someone can’t hold their liquor,” her eyes gleam with deviltry and she bares her fangs in a trill laugh. I can feel curious eyes on me as Hart helps me to my feet. I suddenly feel dizzy and grudgingly lean against Hart for support.
“You know what?” I say, glaring at all the lily white faces looking at me as if I don’t belong.
“Don’t Whitney,” Hart tries to quiet me.
“Shush…” I place one finger against his lips. “I’ve been quiet all night, watching you and her.” I point at Sabrina… “Eye fucking each other all night and I’ve had it up to here.” I place my hand at the bottom of my chin. “All of yawl snooty ass’s can go fuck yourself,” I finish before I double over and vomit all over Hart’s shoes.
“Trailer trash,” Sabrina says to no one in particular.
“Enough, not another word out of you, Sabrina.” His voice sounds adamant. “Damnit, Whitney,” he grates out just before he lifts me into his arms and storms out the dining room and up the stairs to his bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I ask as Hart strips me and turns on the shower. He strips as well before urging me into the shower with him. The first spray of cold water hits my skin and I scream from its effects.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Whitney Martin,” Hart says as my teeth start to chatter and goosebumps appear on my skin. I feel like a fool so I remain quiet as the water wash over my flesh. What have I done? These are my last thoughts just before darkness claims me.
I awake the morning, to the pleasurable feeling of Hart French kissing my clit. I am powerless to resist as I place my hand on the back of his head and shove it further into my wetness.
“Mmmm,” he growls against my hairless mound. “Your flavor has me addicted. You are so slippery and wet,” his sexy voice makes me tremble as I grind against his mouth. My legs slide up and my thighs c
lose to clutch about his head as his tongue darts in and out and swirls deliciously inside of my love tunnel. “Fuck,” he roars and I can feel the terrible effort it takes for him to please me as he shows restraint. But my restraint is a goner as I cry out and squirt all of my love juices into his mouth. He laps away until he is filled and climbs up my body to settle between my thighs.
My inner muscles begin to quake as he covers my body and our eyes clash. His eyes continue to hold mine as he thrusts inside me to the hilt. I gasp aloud in splendorous pleasure as he begins to move inside my heat.
He withdraws his cock to the very tip and I cry out for more. He plunges back in, filling me up, as he starts to move inside me faster and faster. A pure sexual intent is driving my hips to meet him thrust for thrust. I cry out as his head bends down to take a hard nipple between his teeth and bite down. The electric shock is inexplicably sharp and pleasurable at the same time.
Hart takes that moment to swirl his hips at an angle and touch a spot within me that’s never been touched before. My inside muscles contract around his hardness and I begin cumming and cumming and cumming like an unrelenting waterfall. My moans are lusty as I cry out over and over again.
Then he grips my hips as his shafts seems to grow even bigger. “I can’t…I’m cumming,” he groans and give up his hot seed to mix with my essence.
His hot seed spurts forth to heat up my insides most pleasurably. His spurts are a continuous flow as his cock is relentless, plunging into my core. I cry out again and join him with another explosion of my own.
Finally, my pulsating pussy releases him. He pulls me to his side and hugs me tightly. “Whitney, we need to have a serious talk, but first I need another nap.” He closes his eyes and is knocked out.
Satiated and thoroughly loved, my eyes close and I join him in sleep. He hasn’t forgotten the debacle I made of myself last night. After all, it lingers in my immediate thoughts, even in my sleep.
Chapter 19
HART
“I’m so sorry about last night, Hart. I don’t know what got into me. Wait, that’s a lie,” she admits. “The way your parents received us and then the way your ex-girlfriend showed up messed me up.”
“I love you, Whitney. You and no one else. I don’t want you to ever doubt me. I’m a one-woman man, when I’m in love and I’m definitely in love with you.”
“In my heart, I believe you. It’s just that your parents…and Sabrina,” she starts to say but I cut her off.
"I don’t think my parents can comprehend how much our relationship means to me. They are confused by it, but they’ll come around after seeing how much you really mean to me. They’ll love you in time, like I do.”
"Hart, I need to be honest with you. It hurts me terribly that your parents don’t accept us. It just feels weird for us to be in a loving relationship or even to date for that matter in a house where I’m not welcome. I can't stay here any longer. I want to leave."
"Whitney, I already know that you're this amazing person and I'm so very deeply in love with you. I can only imagine the pain you feel about my parents and their way of thinking about our relationship, especially when I think about how wonderfully your mother accepted me. I can see why you’re such a classy and beautiful woman. You have a wonderful example to follow. My grandfather was like that. He would’ve loved you from his first time setting eyes on you. He’s who I've always tried to model myself after."
"I understand what you're saying, Hart. I really do. I wish I could’ve known your grandfather too, because if he was anything like you, he would’ve been easy for me to love. I wish your parents could see that true love just happens between two people for good reasons. Why can’t they see that we care about each other and understand why we love each other? I don't see color when I look at you. I see you, my Hart of hearts, the man that I love."
“You are my everything, Whitney. I don’t know if I can say anything to make a situation like this any better. I like to hope that things will get better for us with my family in time, and chances are they will, but who really knows? Still, whatever challenges we will face with my family, remember that you’re not alone. There are lots of people out there in happy and wonderful relationships just like ours. We will make it through, with or without their blessings. You are mine and I am yours...I'm never, ever, letting you go.”
The bedroom door creaks. Both Whitney and my head whip around to see my parents standing in the doorway looking repentant.
“Whitney wants to leave because of you two. If I have to choose between you and her, then by God, I’m choosing her,” anger at their behavior blazes through me.
“We aren’t making you choose, son. Your mother and I talked late into the night last night. We are ashamed of our disrespect of you, Whitney. You don’t deserve the way we treated you. It seems we have some issues to work out that has nothing to do with you but everything to do with ourselves. For that, we are sorry.” My dad discloses.
“Will you forgive us? Sabrina left early this morning…before sunrise. That was my doing and I’m really sorry for inviting her here. Please forgive me, both of you,” my mother adds.
I look over at Whitney and she looks up at me. Her eyes are shimmering with tears that appear like precious diamonds. I pull her close to my side. “I’m telling you both now. The day will come when I’m going to make this woman my wife. She will have my children…your grandchildren. Can both of you accept that?”
There is a pause before they nod and speak. “Yes,” they both reply in unison. I look into their eyes and see no deceit.
“What do you say, my love?” I wait to see what Whitney has to say. Because basically the fate of my parents are in her hands. No one has the right to hurt my Whitney. My parents included.
“I once heard a quote by an unknown. It went something like this: ‘You can only heal if you forgive. You can only live in peace if you forgive. You can only let go if you forgive. Then and only then, can you truly heal and really love and be loved in return,” she recites a quote and then says, “I forgive you both, because I love your son with my whole heart,” she declares.
“I can see that your words are sincere and those are great words you just quoted, Whitney,” my mother says with warmth in her voice
“I agree, young lady, you are wise beyond your years. I think we can learn a thing or two from you.”
“I think we all can learn from each other. I love you, Whitney Martin.”
“You know what?” she asks as we stare into each other eyes and our souls unite.
“What?” I ask as my parents look on with smiles on their faces.
“I love you more than I can say and I feel like the most blessed woman on earth to be loved by Hart…”
THE END
Dearest Readers,
First, I want to thank God, for everything! I hope each one of you enjoyed reading Loving Hart. This is another of my special stories that I really enjoyed writing. To all my readers, I wish you great health, unsurmountable love and happiness. A special shout out goes to one of my wonderful readers, Dominique Whitney Morgan. I’m truly humbled by every one of my reader’s support. Let love flow always.
Sincerely,
Theresa Hodge
P.S. Ladies, please don’t forget to do self-breast checks. If you feel any abnormal lumps, please don’t hesitate in seeing a doctor immediately and get yearly mammograms.
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