Midnight Caller (Moonlight Romance)

by Haley Whitehall

  The fattening moon and twinkling stars provided enough light for him to see. While many people were afraid of the dark, it had always meant freedom to him. At night, on the plantation, he would sneak off with his family to attend church gatherings or dances.

  Now he sneaked off to do a different kind of dance.

  Making it to the right neighborhood, his muscles relaxed although his pulse remained rapid. The small house where he would spend the night was whitewashed with window boxes full of red geraniums, orange marigolds, and dainty bluehearts. The curtains were partially drawn revealing a candle burning in the window. That was romantic. It seemed more inviting than all the previous residences he’d been to.

  He rounded the back of the house and his heart tumbled for several beats. The moment before meeting his client and introducing himself was pure terror. Most of the women were gentle to him. Sleeping with a black man fulfilled their wildest fantasies.

  But once in a while, the night was long and revolting. He endured their need for power—braved the anger they held toward the men in their life.

  Frederick licked his lips, took a deep breath, and gently knocked on the door. No one answered. Had she heard him? He waited, staring at the backyard. The barn could use patching on the roof. The woodpile wasn’t well stocked, and the fence marking the property line had a few rotten and leaning posts. Good signs he was going to be with a widow. The bright spot was a well-kept rose garden, many of the flowers climbing and intertwining on a tall trellis against the side of the house. The sweet perfume mixed with the fresh night air. He breathed in deeply. A pleasant feeling bloomed in his stomach.

  The door finally opened. Frederick whirled around and found himself face-to-face with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was young, couldn’t be much more than twenty, her black hair cascading past her shoulders with a slight wave. She had an ample bosom for her petite frame, the red day dress she wore showing off every curve. The red color made her tanned skin look paler. Her hazel eyes seemed so innocent Frederick wondered what he was doing here at all.

  “I was told you wanted company,” Frederick said, wondering why this woman didn’t have every man in town chasing after her.

  She offered a tentative smile and opened the door farther.

  “Yes. Please come in.”

  Frederick stepped into the house and she softly shut the door behind him. She walked around him and her skirts brushed his side, making his stomach clench. She stood in front of him and assessed him as she peeked through her lashes, slowly working her way down his frame.

  He bowed. “My name is Frederick, ma’am. I am at your service.” His toes tensed in anticipation. This was going to be the best night of his life.

  The woman shifted her weight and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Nervous energy filled the room. He knew he was a massive man; hopefully the slight woman was not intimidated. She motioned for him to follow her. They walked through the kitchen into the dining room. “Have a seat.”

  Frederick pulled a chair back from the table and sat. He wanted to drink in her beauty, but that was not polite. He kept his eyes on the table.

  “Would you like tea, coffee? Or perhaps some brandy from my late husband’s liquor cabinet?”

  “Coffee would be fine, ma’am. Thank you.” Some of his clients had him take his clothes off the minute he walked through the door. This woman was a slow mover. He liked that. Unfortunately, she moved so slow he didn’t even know her name.

  She brought him a cup of coffee and sat next to him, drinking a cup herself.

  A few awkward moments passed with the two of them stealing glances at each other. He felt eager and uncomfortable, like he was a youth chasing the girls around the plantation yard all over again. The coffee, strong just the way he liked it, gave him the burst of energy he needed. It slid into his stomach with a bitter kick. This pretty young woman would give him more exercise than the old widows he usually visited.

  “My name is Emma,” she said. “Emma Bennett.” She blushed, her cheeks a delicious red. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “You have nothing to fear, ma’am.” Frederick smiled. “I am here to please you.”

  Emma reached across the table and tentatively held his hand. Her warm skin and soft touch sent a lightning bolt to his core. Lust consumed him. He craved more. He wanted to feel her bare chest rub up against his. To see her eyes brighten by the throes of passion, to hear her moan.

  What was wrong with him? He was yearning after this delicate creature before they even got to the bedroom. Never before had a woman—white or black—gotten to him like this. She is a client. Control yourself.

  He pressed the coffee cup to his lips and focused on the taste of the dark liquid. He rolled the acrid drink in his mouth before swallowing, grasping at any distraction.

  “Why do you do what you do? I mean this.”

  Her absurd question sounded sincere. Frederick nearly choked on his coffee. “For the money. I’m saving for a house.” He didn’t want to spend his entire life on the river. He wanted his own land. One night with a woman earned him double the pay for a day’s work on the steamboat.

  “Oh,” Emma said as if she expected a different answer. She unwound her small fingers from his large hand. Uncertainty played across her face.

  He held his breath, his insides pressed together. Was she going to send him away?

  Finally, her lips settled in a smile. “Shall we go to the bedroom?”

  “As you wish, ma’am.” He managed to sound casual despite his hardening cock. When he took off his clothes she’d find out in an instant how attractive he found her, how much he desired her, the power she held over him…

  Already his thoughts had moved past coffee and to his delightful business. He couldn’t wait to see her naked, know the curve of her breasts, let his hands roam her hips. He’d laid with a lot of women, but never one as young and as sumptuous as this one.

  “Strip to the waist and sit on the bed.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Frederick pulled off his shoes, and then he folded and piled his coat, vest, and shirt neatly on the floor before sitting on the edge of the mattress. The attraction between them was strong and undeniable. He was a bee and she was a beautiful rose. He was sure her nectar would be delicious, if only he would be granted a taste. Whether he would be granted a taste was in her hands. She was paying for an experience, and it was his duty to give her whatever she wanted. It wasn’t in his nature to submit, but the sight of her beauty as she stood before him with that glow in her eyes, made it more bearable.

  He knew his job after more secret trysts than he could count and fell into his role easily. He genuinely wanted to please Emma, though. He sensed her hesitation. He hoped she’d muster the confidence to play her part.

  “Spread your legs.” Emma walked into him, standing between his splayed thighs. She traced every muscle in his chest. The pads of her fingers gently caressed him, almost teasing. He tightened his stomach muscles, but was unable to prevent a tiny shudder.

  Her smile widened, revealing a row of perfectly straight teeth. A thrum of pleasure rushed through him.

  He wanted to wrap his arms around her but resisted. He had not been given permission.

  Her soft skirts pressed against his legs. She took down his dark-colored suspenders and deepened her touch, massaging him now. His sore shoulders delighted in the caring ministrations. Lifting tobacco crates and manhandling cotton bales was going to make him an old man long before his time. She brushed past his nipples and Frederick sighed. If she felt his arousal, she ignored it.

  Her eyes locked with his and she leaned forward for a kiss, both hands cupping the back of his head. Their lips touched and he felt transported to heaven. Her feminine scent of flowers and earth, perfume and passion, went straight to his cock.

  When she leaned into him, deepening the kiss, he held back a moan. His cock twitched, eager to delve inside her channel.

  Her eyes closed, lashes fl
uttering. She was precious, irresistible.

  Damn. He couldn’t develop feelings for a white woman. But he’d never serviced a client so young, and his body had a mind of its own.

  He was going to have the privilege of sleeping with an angel.

  Chapter 3

  She hadn’t planned on tasting Frederick’s lips. It just happened. They were full and thick and begged to be kissed. This man exuded masculinity from every pore. Quite different from Hank’s city-bred refinement.

  The raw power in his eyes was intoxicating. They were the deepest brown she had ever seen. Yet his tall frame remained tense and, despite the lust in his gaze, he had not touched her. Did he not want to feel her? Surely she had more to offer him than Mrs. Dimshire.

  Her hands roamed his steel-hard thighs and then dipped lower. He twitched and then held his breath. She was toying with him, enticing him, and he still hadn’t responded. What more did she have to do? Suddenly a thought occurred to her.

  She picked one of his hands off the bed and guided it around her waist. “You may touch me,” she said, surprising herself with her playful tone.

  Frederick relaxed and reached up with his other hand gently encircling her midsection. “Thank you,” he breathed.

  Emma tilted her head to the side. “Were you waiting for my permission?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I never want to overstep. Sometimes it is part of the game.”

  Emma’s hands worked their way down Frederick’s neck to his back. Every inch of him was hard as chiseled stone. She paused when her fingers ran over raised scars. “You’ve been whipped.” Shock registered in her voice, her eyes widened.

  Frederick looked over to the side avoiding her eyes. “Yes, ma’am. More blows than I care to remember.”

  “Why?” She knew it was a horrible question and regretted it the minute it left her mouth.

  Frederick took a deep breath. “Back on the plantation if you didn’t work fast enough or pick enough cotton you paid for it. Then I got hired out as a roustabout. By day I work on the Comet. I’ve been whipped by the mates. And,” he blushed, “a few of the blows were from women.”

  Emma gasped and took a step back. “Some of the women, your clients they…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Frederick nodded, all emotion drained from his face. “They find it arousing,” he said in a flat tone.

  “That’s terrible!”

  Frederick shrugged.

  “Don’t you,” Emma took long pauses between each word, “don’t you have trouble submitting to a woman?”

  Hank had practically dictated her every move. He never hurt her, but his harsh words when he was displeased were painful enough. With their age difference, she’d come to think of him more as a big brother than a lover. She couldn’t imagine a man following a woman’s orders, especially in bed.

  Frederick laughed; the low rumble stirred her heart. “It don’t seem natural to you, ma’am? Me being black and all.”

  She swallowed hard. This conversation was dowsing the fire in her belly. A dark, handsome man sat on her bed and she wasn’t about to waste another minute. Stepping closer, she thrust out her chest—her bosom eye level with him. “Please help me undress.” More confidence worked into her voice.

  Frederick reached up with his long arms and carefully undid the first button, his fingers brushing the base of her throat. The buttons went all the way down the front of her dress. When he unhooked the buttons covering her chest, she drew a sharp breath. The heat traveling through the cloth made her nipples peak.

  He moved with unhurried grace, so careful as if he was afraid his strong fingers would tear the fabric. He lingered a second longer than necessary before moving to the lower buttons. Her pulse sped. She had never experienced such tender attention before. The thrill wound its way through all her nerves to her mound.

  Frederick slipped off the bed and onto his knees. His fingers worked on the last buttons. When his gaze fell between her thighs, she moistened. The lust in his eyes spoke to her body like nothing had before.

  He wanted her. She relished the thought, savoring it like a piece of chocolate.

  For the first time in her life she felt like a woman worthy of love. She had never felt wanted before. She yearned to form a connection with him. She reached out and grabbed his sturdy shoulders.

  He placed a kiss on the back of each of her hands. She tingled where his lips touched.

  After working her arms free, she let him pull the dress all the way down until the garment puddled at her feet.

  He eyed her petticoats hungrily, but hesitated.

  His restraint increased the adrenaline pulsing through her veins. She held the power. He was there to serve her.

  “You may take down my petticoats.”

  Frederick did as he was told. Now standing in nothing but her white silk camisole and drawers, she shivered, not from cold, but from excitement.

  She hadn’t bothered with the confining corset this morning. The impropriety gave her an unprecedented rush. She spent the whole day in the house anticipating this moment.

  Frederick reached down and took the bottom of the camisole in both hands. Emma nodded and he slowly pulled the chemise off over her head, revealing her light skin a little at a time.

  When he touched her drawers, she quivered. He pulled her drawers down quickly and she stepped out. His touch was so intimate she longed to have him roam his hands over all her curves. He was older than her—perhaps twenty-five and his expression told her he was eager to proceed. He knew much more about carnal pleasures than she did. She would enjoy the experience.

  He stood there, taking in her beauty. His six-foot-three frame slightly bowed, all his attention on her. Like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. Her insides twisted and she felt a conscious blush. Hopefully he liked what he saw.

  “What would you like me to do now, ma’am?” Frederick asked in a husky voice.

  Emma pointed to his trousers. “Finish undressing.” She pulled back the covers and lay down on the bed, waiting for him. She peeked at his full manhood and a low burn heated her cheeks. She wanted to stroke him but was too shy.

  When he joined her, their two bodies did not touch. He lay on his side, gazing at her face with a sensual expression. She could get lost in his eyes—intense, a deep whiskey color—eyes a woman could lose herself in. They awakened feelings inside her she didn’t know existed.

  “How can I take care of you?” he asked his timbre deep and rough.

  Oh Lord, he wanted to take care of her. He probably said that to all the women, but it sounded like it was just meant for her. The need to feel him, all of him, could not be ignored any longer.

  “Touch me.” She raised her arms over her head and opened her legs in invitation.

  He sat up, put a rubber condom, and then crawled closer. He brushed her hair away from her shoulders and then fondled her breasts. Ooh that felt good. His hands were calloused but the roughness was strangely stimulating.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. His voice matched his rugged body.

  She arched into his gentle touch and mewed. Hank had paid little attention to her chest and offered her even fewer compliments.

  His expert hands traveled lower, feeling the smooth plane of her belly. Soon his massive body covered hers, and he propped himself up on his strong arms to keep most of his weight off her small frame. She stretched her neck to the side and he peppered the sensitive skin with kisses. His ridged cock rested on top of her thigh and she moaned. She needed more of him.

  “How can I satisfy you?” he whispered in her ear.

  “I want you inside me. Now,” she panted. It had been close to two years since she had last lain with Hank. Her body demanded attention.

  “As you wish,” he said with a melting smile that seared her marrow. She was paying him, but she was his for the night.

  Slowly he entered her, pulling out and pushing back in an inch more at a time. Finally he was all the way in. Feeling
this full was uncomfortable. She tensed. Hank was not that big. Frederick looked at her, concern etched his forehead.

  “Are you all right, angel?”

  He just called her angel. Was he trying to seduce her, or was he just good at his job? It felt like a jar of butterflies had been released in her chest.

  After a moment her body relaxed. “Yes,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  Her neglected body betrayed her desire to savor the moment. In only a couple thrusts she entered ecstasy. Her channel gripped onto him as if she didn’t want to let him go. And she didn’t. She couldn’t. Her body was on fire, her blood pounding and she felt as if she were flying apart in different directions. He filled her…he held her. She had never felt so alive, so cared for, so contented in her life.

  She rode her climax, his arms wrapped around her. She felt like she was flying and she never wanted to touch the ground. He could carry her across the entire South. The aftershocks ended too soon, despite Frederick’s best efforts to prolong her pleasure. When she softened into his embrace, he ceased his movements.

  She gave him a questioning look. Didn’t he need a release? “Why did you stop?” she panted, trying to regulate her breathing.

  “I am here to service you, my lady. Not myself.” He eased her back on to the mattress and again supported himself with his rippled arms.

  Emma frowned. There it was again. Another reminder she was just a client. One of the many women he had slept with. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She was going to enjoy the rest of the evening.

  “Then,” she said, running her fingers through his hair, “I want you to continue. I want to watch your pleasure.”

  An erotic darkness laced his eyes, turning them almost black. She held his gaze as he began pumping again, building up to a frantic rhythm. He throbbed inside her. Sweat glistened on his forehead and chest making him even more appetizing.

  The tingles of pleasure rippled through her again, slowly building with each thrust. The longer he stayed inside her the more she enjoyed the slick heat.