Wild Sweet Love by Beverly Jenkins
Chapter 11
It didn’t take long for them to change clothes, but leaving the house became another matter. Seeing her enter the parlor clad in her leather trousers and a faded blue work shirt, Madison wanted to linger over her for a passionate moment or two, and Teresa could clearly see the desire standing in his brown eyes. Never shy, she walked over and stood close. This was the first time they’d been alone together in the empty house. “Penny for your thoughts.”
He circled an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you all morning.”
“And I’ve been waiting to be kissed all morning. Where’ve you been?”
His grin was infectious. “Sassy woman. Let’s see if I can’t give this mouth something else to do.”
So he did, and the soft but potent kiss pierced her with its power. Tongues mated beguilingly, hands roamed lazily, and she was instantly entranced. She loved the solid feel of his body against her own, loved his cajoling kisses, and had no defense against the heat they planted in her blood. They both knew they had no future, but at the moment neither cared. Until time came for them to part ways, they planned to fuel each other’s passions, then live their separate lives filled with the memories of what they’d once shared.
At the moment they were sharing ever deepening kisses. Her hands fed on the strong muscles of his arms and back. His hands tingled against the leather encasing her warm, saucy behind. She rained possessive kisses on the edge of his strong jaw, soaring with the thrilling sensations. He soared too, seeking her mouth while he expertly undid the buttons running down the front of her old shirt. The worn cotton was almost as soft as the dark silken skin that he knew lay beneath.
Madison pushed back the halves of her shirt and ran glowing eyes over her black silk camisole. He placed his lips against the hollow of her throat, then slid down the straps. He paused at the sight of the length of gray silk circled around her upper torso. The material wasn’t very wide. It hid her nipples from view but not the soft mounds of the tops of her breasts. The sight was as erotic as it was arousing. He glanced a fingertip over the shrouded nipple. “What’s this for?”
The feather light movements of his finger against the sensitive tips was deliciously distracting. Teresa had trouble forming speech but finally managed to say, “I bind myself when I ride. It’s more comfortable.”
Without a word, he tugged down the silk and covered the freed flesh with his large hand. He watched her eyes as he played with the hardened point, loving the way her long lashed lids fluttered closed in rapt response. Fueled by her, he lowered his head and took the black berry into his mouth. Her body shimmered. He treated her to a series of brazen licks before covering the damp nipple with his mouth once more. His hand moved to the other breast and prepared it for its own sensual feasting, and when he was satisfied that it was ready, he made love to them both.
In the silence of his mother’s house, Madison dallied and teased. He was hard as a rock and wouldn’t be able to ride a horse for a week if he didn’t stop this soon, but he couldn’t. She was too gorgeous, her breasts too tempting and her mouth too sweet. This opening prelude had bewitched him, fired him. He was only a few passionate moments away from finding someplace to lay her down, ease the leathers from her legs, and make wild sweet love to her the way he’d been craving. He wanted her madly, but not here in his mother’s house, at least not the first time. “We need to go.”
“You’re the one holding us up…Teresa couldn’t see. Desire had her vision so cloudy she didn’t even know where she was.
“It’s these beautiful breasts of yours. They won’t stop whispering my name.” To prove his point, he bit them gently, then raised himself so he could watch her face while his palm moved over the buds to make sure they stayed tight and ripe. “You have to close your shirt, Teresa.”
He bent down, circled his tongue around the twin treats, and she crooned. She couldn’t have complied with his heated request if someone held a Colt to her head; his wicked feasting had her throbbing and pulsating everywhere. “Madison…
He captured her mouth again. “What, angel?” His lips moved down and branded the edge of her neck.
“We should get going.”
“I know.” Reluctantly, Madison stepped back. The desire in his eyes matched hers. He did up her buttons, kissed her soundly one last time, then walked with her out to his buggy.
Rebecca Constantine and her husband Miller greeted Madison and Teresa warmly. “We saw you in the papers, Teresa. Guess the jig is up?” Miller said with a twinkle in his old eyes.
Teresa nodded. “Looks that way, but everybody’s been real nice.”
Rebecca asked Madison, “Did Molly and Emma get off okay?”
“Yes, they did, so Teresa and I came out to go riding.”
Miller said, “Help yourselves. Hannibal’s been waiting on Teresa. Gotten so he doesn’t like anybody else riding him.”
Sure enough, when Teresa entered the barn, the stallion lifted his head and nickered a greeting. She walked over and gave him a hug and an affectionate pat. “How are you, boy? Been missing me? I sure have missed you.”
While the grooms accompanied Madison to find him a suitable mount, Teresa took down the tack she’d been using on her visits and led the big animal out into the sunshine. “Wish I’d raised you,” she said to Hannibal. “Then we wouldn’t have to use this saddle. Cloud and I rode bareback most of the time. You’d like Cloud. You two would probably fight over the mares, but he’s a good horse and so are you.”
After throwing on the saddle and tightening all the cinches, Teresa stuck her boot into the stirrup and lifted herself to the saddle. Reins in hand, she turned Hannibal and they trotted over to meet Madison, mounted on a brown stallion named Toussaint, who was almost as large as Hannibal.
Leaving the paddock area, the two riders took a leisurely stroll down the paths that led to the open land. Madison couldn’t remember ever having a more enjoyable morning. Being under the open sky alone and carefree made the rest of the world feel miles away. Here, there was no Richards, Jim Crow, or anything else to keep him from concentrating on the thing he wanted to focus on the most—Teresa. She rode beside him confident and at ease. That she was an excellent horsewoman was evident in her posture and manner. She and Hannibal moved as if they were joined, bringing to mind the image of a beautiful female satyr.
Teresa was also enjoying the lazy pace. She looked up and saw a blue jay, its wings spread against the sky. When he cawed, the sound echoed across the silence. “This is real nice,” she said to her companion. “Sometimes it’s good to ride by yourself, and other times it’s good to be with somebody.”
“I’m enjoying your company as well.”
Teresa’s attraction to him rose. “You ride much?”
He chuckled to himself. “Not as much as I’d like.”
She could see the double meaning in his eyes and her body began to call. “Never had a man try and seduce me while I was riding.”
“No?” he asked with mock innocence. “Then you’ve probably never had a man ask you to unbutton your shirt so he can see your nipples in the sunshine.”
She almost lost her seat. “No.”
His grin was so playful and so male, it made her dizzy.
“And no, Mother doesn’t know about this side of me either,” he offered, his mustache twitching with amusement.
Teresa was wearing one of the well-worn flannel work shirts sent by Olivia in the crate.
“Open your shirt, Angel, and let me pleasure you while we ride.”
Her breath was stacked up in her throat, and under his blazing eyes, she slowly granted his request.
Madison watched boldly as she worked each button from its hole. The movement of her fingers and the sight of her dark flesh being revealed as the fabric opened wider and wider made him steel hard.
Then she was bared. Her nipples, dark as onyx jewels, were open to the sunshine and to his touch. The horses slowed and Madison reached over and toyed lazily with first one and then the other.
Teresa lost all touch with time. His fingers circled, squeezed, and gently plucked. Her breathing increased, as did the warmth in her blood.
“Lean this way…
And when she did, he took the nipple into his mouth and she groaned with welcoming pleasure. He took his time making sure she stayed ripe and hard, filling his hands with her soft weight while he dallied and feasted. When he seemed satisfied that her buds would answer only to him from now on, he drew away, leaving her hard and damp underneath the sun. “Now, we can go on with our ride,” he whispered.
Only instinct prompted Teresa to pick up the reins; everything else was in a fog.
They rode farther into the open wilderness of the Constantines’ property. Still echoing from his pleasuring, Teresa wondered what other shameless courses he would put her through. In reality, she couldn’t wait.
They rode for nearly an hour, and during the journey he made a point of stopping every now and then to open her shirt to make sure her nipples hadn’t forgotten him. She was so dazed she didn’t know where she was.
They eventually rode down an embankment and stopped beside a small stream hidden from view by the thick trees lining the bank. They dismounted, and while the horses bent to drink, Madison fit himself gently behind her. Placing a kiss on her neck, he swept his hands up to capture her breasts inside of her still open shirt, and Teresa melted like water into sand. She could feel the pressure of his manhood against her hips, and she slowly moved against him, mare to his stallion, as he teased her back into arousal. Unashamed to show how much she desired him, she removed her boots, then undid the snaps on the placard of her pants. She turned to face him then, and he met her mouth with a kiss that set them both on fire. Still loving her, he worked the leathers down her hips. When he touched bare ebony skin, he stopped, then looked down with amazed and heated eyes. “Where are your drawers?”
Grinning, she skimmed the leathers the rest of the way down and off. “You don’t wear drawers beneath leathers, city boy,” she said seductively. “They make you a bunched-up mess.”
Watching her stand there naked from the waist down, her nipples teasing from within the old shirt, Madison could have come right then and there. Instead he moved a hand between her sculpted thighs and tantalized the damp vent until she crooned. Taking a moment to remove his own boots and pants while she undid the buttons of his shirt, he looked around and spied the wooden bench a few feet away. He would have preferred this first coupling to have been in his bed, but he couldn’t wait. He wanted her now.
Teresa had never made love with a man sitting down before, but after he placed the rubber on his manhood and she eased herself down onto the sheathed hard prize, the feel of him filling her made her want more.
“Like that?” he husked out.
“Oh, yeah,” she whispered, leaning in to reward him with a kiss for the wanton pleasure. His possessive hands on her hips guided her slowly at first, letting her become accustomed to his size and girth, and then the rhythm began. Her positioning gave him ample access to her breasts. While he brazenly enjoyed her, their bodies instinctively increased the pace. Soon, his lust-fired strokes became focused and true, and the mare rode her stallion scandalously in response to the hands guiding her up and down and back and forth. Her orgasm exploded. His did too. He gripped her silken hips roughly, and thrusting like a man gone mad, his hoarse shout of completion mingled with her sharp cries as they soared into paradise.
Teresa came back to herself cuddled against his sweat damp chest, head against his shoulder. Raising her head, she looked down into his eyes and saw her future. The strange sensation scared the hell out of her, shaking it off, she tenderly touched his cheek with her fingers, then gave him a long meaningful kiss.
Madison didn’t want to move ever. He wanted his entire world to center on the woman sitting so shamelessly in his lap. He gathered her in again and held her close.
They had to leave, however, so they parted the seal of their bodies, shared a few more poignant kisses, then got into their clothes.
Riding back, they kept flashing each other silly grins. It had been a long time since Teresa had been so happy, and Madison felt like a giddy adolescent. They both sensed something special forming, but neither could give it a name. Lust was involved, but it was more than that.
He said, “There’s a show tonight at the Academy of Music. Would you like to attend?”
She shrugged. “Sure. What kind of show?”
“Madame Sissieretta Jones, and R. Henri Strange. The papers call him ‘America’s Greatest Colored Tragedian.’”
“What in the world is a tragedian?”
“He recites Shakespeare. Usually the tragedies.”
“I see.”
He reached into the pocket of his trousers for the handbill he’d brought along for her to see.
She unfolded the announcement and scanned it. A company called the Afro-American Amusement Company was putting on the show, and in addition to Madame Jones and R. H. Strange, there were other performers and amusements listed, including a pie eating contest and a Tom Thumb wedding. “Sure, I’d love to go. Sounds like fun.”
“You’ll have to wear one of your fancy gowns,” he warned.
Teresa blew out a breath of frustration.
“I promise it will be worth it.”
She didn’t know if she believed him, but said, “I’m holding you to that.”
“I don’t doubt that at all. What time does it say the event starts?”
Teresa searched the wording. “Nine. Nine to midnight.”
It was nearly noon now, and Madison’s stomach rumbled in complaint. “I’m hungry. How about you?”
“Starving.” She handed him the concert handbill. They’d ridden out two hours ago, and the early breakfast at Mr. Watson’s seemed like yesterday.
“How about we stop and get something to eat on the way back, then I’ll drop you at Mother’s and return for you around seven-thirty or so.”
“That’s fine, but you don’t have to spend any money for lunch. I’m sure Emma has something stored away I can fix.”
“You cook?”
“Almost as well as I ride.”
“And you do ride well.”
The heat in his gaze made her say, “I’ve never met a man quite like you. Madison Nance.”
“And I’ve never met a woman like you, Teresa July.”
“Good, maybe you’ll remember me for at least a little while after I leave for home.”
Madison knew it would be much longer than that. She sat Hannibal as if she’d been born to ride, and back on the bench she’d ridden him just as well. Feeling his manhood swell in response to the lusty memory, he focused his mind elsewhere lest he wind up searching for another hidden spot so he could have her again. “Race you back!”
He kicked the horse into a gallop. As he and Toussaint pulled away, her outraged cursing made him laugh.
“You cheater!” Teresa and Hannibal took after them. The big stallion hadn’t had a good run all day and he was ready to fly.
It took them a quarter of a mile to catch up, but when they were neck and neck, Teresa looked over at the grinning Madison. She urged Hannibal to increase his speed, and he complied with a powerful stride that inched them past their opponent. Now out in front, Teresa shouted, “Eat dust, city boy!” She threw back her head, gave the Seminole victory cry, then she and Hannibal roared off, leaving the laughing Madison and his mount behind.
A groom was leading Hannibal back to his stall when Madison rode up. Teresa was standing against the side of the barn with her arms folded lazily. “Took you long enough.”
He dismounted and handed the reins to another Constantine groom. “What was the sound you made back there?”
“Seminole victory cry. Learned it from my grandfather, one of the old chiefs.”
“Very memorable.”
“Guess you never heard a Cherokee gobble either, then?”
He chuckled. “No.”
“You need to come West. All kinds of things to learn and see.”
“Maybe I will,” he said, enjoying her smile.
Rebecca walked up. Both Madison and Teresa noticed she had on her leathers. “Teresa, I adore these,” she said. “They don’t hinder my movements. I can ride and not be snagged by branches and brush, but I have to ask you something. Privately.”
“Sure. How about we step over there.” Giving Madison a smile and a shrug, she followed Rebecca to a spot a few feet away, and asked, “What’s your question?”
“How do I keep my drawers from bunching up?”
“You don’t wear any,” Teresa told her frankly.
The eyes in Rebecca’s overly painted face widened. She whispered, “Really?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She seemed to think on that for a while, then brightened with delight. “Oh, wait until I tell Miller.” Rebecca went silent, thinking, then giggling like a young girl, declared, “I do hope Miller took his heart pills this morning. Thank you, Teresa!” And she hurried off.
Teresa laughed so hard she slid down the barn wall to the grass. Madison, watching Rebecca quickly moving across the grounds, had no idea what had transpired, but as soon as Teresa could speak, she told him, and his howl of laughter filled the air.
Still amused, the two of them retrieved the buggy. Not wanting to disturb whatever Rebecca and Miller might be up to inside the house, they drove off without saying good-bye.
Madison made a stop at a diner near Molly’s home and brought the food with them to the house, where he decided it might be fun to have their meal outside. He found an old blanket and they spread it out on the grass by the gazebo. He unwrapped the corned beef sandwiches and gave Teresa one of them, and she set it on a small plate. But before eating she stared curiously at the small brown disks lying on a bed of paper he set on the blanket between them.
“Ever had Saratoga chips?” he asked.
Shaking her head, she picked one up. It was warm, and she bit into it. It was crisp.
“They’re sliced fried potatoes,” he explained, grabbing a few for himself and placing them on his plate. “A Negro chef from Saratoga, New York, invented them back before the war, or so the legend goes.”
Teresa thought they were very good, and a wonderful salty complement to the sandwiches.
While he ate, Madison tried his best not to stare, but because the memories of this morning’s tryst completely filled his mind, he found it difficult. The remembrances of her uninhibited response to their lovemaking coupled with the tastes and scents of her were as vivid now as they’d been then. He ran his eyes over Teresa’s full, tempting lips, her sparkling black eyes, and the thick sweep of her lashes and brows. He now knew that she applied the same indomitable spirit to making love that she applied to life, and he was honored to be the man she’d chosen to teach her passion.
When they finished eating, Teresa walked him back through the house to the front door.
“I’ll be back for you later,” he said, raising her chin and staring down into the face he wanted to memorize for eternity. He kissed her with a slow thoroughness that made her see stars, then with a smile, left her standing dizzy in the foyer.
Teresa took a long, hot scented bath, and Madison filled her mind. The memory of him asking her to open her blouse was powerful enough to knock her out of the saddle all over again. After making love to him, she could now answer unequivocally the question he’d put to her earlier—no, she’d never been properly loved back home, but now she had.
When it became time for her to get ready, she looked through the armoire for something to wear and decided on the fancy midnight blue gown Mrs. Nance had finished a few weeks back. Next to her skin, she wore a thin black camisole with insets of lace. The blue silk corset, trimmed with a thin black ruffle and patterned all over with small red and black flowers, came next. Instead of the whalebone that she would never have worn, the corset’s support came from thin flexible strips of what Mrs. Nance called watch spring steel. It was pliable and offered her both the comfort and support she’d need to fill out the top of the low-cut gown. Pulling on a pair of matching blue silk drawers with short blousy legs, she carefully slipped into the silky, black lisle stockings and tugged on the garters that were needed to hold them up.
Dressed now, she studied herself in the mirror. Even though the gown was not her choice of preferred attire, she liked how she looked. With her hair gleaming and pulled back, and a hammered gold disc hanging from each ear, she thought she’d cleaned up well. Granted, there were probably going to be women in attendance decked out in more expensive gowns and wearing a chest full of jewels, but none were going to be escorted by Madison, so she figured she’d drawn the best hand.
He arrived a short while later dressed handsomely in formal black evening attire complete with silk top hat. He looked her over with approving eyes. She turned around slowly so he could see all and his approval grew. “You’re stunning.”
“Been called a lot of things but never stunning.”
“Stunning, lovely, sensual.”
“Behave now,” she said with mock warning. “You don’t get to take off my clothes until later.”
He laughed, his desire rising in response to her delightful frankness. “Then we should probably leave, because in my mind I’ve already removed your dress and I’m opening your corset.”
The searing words put a wobble in Teresa’s knees. “Out, Nance!” she commanded, pointing. They made sure the lamps were doused, locked the door behind them, and departed.
A hired cab with a uniformed driver up front waited at the curb. Confused, she turned to Madison, who said easily, “Thought I’d spend the ride concentrating on you instead of a horse’s rump.”
He helped her in, and after joining her on the seat, signaled the driver, who started out.
The Academy of Music was located on Broad Street. Modeled after La Scala in Milan, Italy, it was known as the best acoustical theater in the nation. Its doors had opened in 1857, but it didn’t allow all Black productions to use the facilities until 1876.
As the cab joined the slow moving line of hacks, carriages, and buggies trying to get to the front of the theater, Teresa could feel the excitement in the air. The paved walks leading to the theater were filled with people dressed up in their evening finery. They all looked so dignified. She had never seen anything quite like it. There were wealthy people of color out West, but not in the numbers she was witnessing.
As they inched closer to the theater, Madison pointed out the well-heeled hotels spread out along the block: The Windemere, Bellevue, and Stratford, with their fancy windows and doors, were finer than any place she’d seen back home. Teresa was having trouble deciding where to look. The streets, awash in the electric lighting, also new to her, gave the night a rosy glow. She felt like a little girl at the fair.
Looking over at Madison, she found him watching her. “Sorry I’m not more sophisticated,” she told him.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for. I’m enjoying watching the excitement in your eyes.”
She appreciated his kindness and wondered if she’d ever meet another man as special as he. Her attraction was growing into an attachment, she realized, that would be hard to shake when she returned to Texas if she weren’t careful. Offering him a soft smile, she went back to seeing all she could.
Still watching her, Madison wondered what he was supposed to do with the feelings rising inside him. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he could make her stay past her appointed time, but when that day came, would he know all there was to know about the compelling Teresa July? He didn’t think so. She was the type of woman a man needed a lifetime to fully explore.
When they finally reached the theater’s front doors, Madison paid the driver, then he and Teresa made their way to the end of the line that snaked down the street. As they passed those already in line, she was recognized—no doubt because of the pictures in the daily newspapers—and could hear her name being whispered excitedly. A few people even called out to her. Grinning, she called back, saying hello.
They were polite enough not to impede her progress, but some of the newspaper photographers were not. They bade her and Madison stop so they could take pictures for the next day’s editions. Rather than cause a scene, Teresa agreed, then she and Madison moved on.