"Will you come inside with me?" she whispered.
"If we go inside, I'll make love to you..."
His hands were so potent and filled her with such bliss, she couldn't speak, she could only brace herself against the strong cradle made by his arm and chest and let him work his magic. His touch on the point from which all her pleasure spread was luxurious, enticing, slow. She eased her legs apart, and he gifted her offering with such magnificence, she moaned and melted from the heat.
The periodic flashes of lightning offered Nate an erotic view of her taking pleasure from his touch. One flash revealed her nipples hard and beautiful as onyx, the next, the arch of her waist with its adorning navel. A particularly brilliant display followed and illuminated her in all her seminude glory as she rose to meet his hand. "You never answered my question, Viveca," he reminded her huskily. "Are you sure?" Nate was harder than he'd ever been before in his life. If she were not a virgin she'd be straddling his straining manhood right there and then.
Vivid, riding the waves of sensation managed to reply, "I'm sure."
"And you know what this means?"
"Yes," she whispered.
Nate's heart soared. "Then let's make you ready...Stand for me."
She didn't want to leave his embrace. She didn't want to leave the sweet ache he continued to cultivate so beautifully.
When she didn't comply, seemingly content with her pleasure, he chuckled. "Greedy little Dr. Princess, stand up…hold up your gown..."
Vivid didn't remember getting to her feet. One moment she'd been spiraling under his hands, and the next she was standing with him kneeling before her. "No screaming now," he whispered amusedly. She had just enough time to brace herself before the first lightning bolt slid across her shrine. Fired by her responsiveness, he eased his big hands up to her thighs to hold her steady, then gently brought her forward.
He pleasured her softly at first, letting the wantonness fill her until she trembled, then he slowly backed away. As she stood before him pulsing in anticipation, his hands returned to the swelling jewel and dabbled softly in concert with the hot, alternating licks of his tongue. The wind swirled around the porch and the lightning momentarily illuminated the intimate tableau against the night. But Vivid neither heard nor cared; his masterful mouth was too knowing, his touch too aware of all that made her woman. When he slid one long finger into her cove, she screamed her release in tandem with the boom of the thunder.
He carried her into the house, kissing her while following her directions to the new bedroom. He set her on the bed as the rains began outside and the wind whipped the curtains furiously. He undressed against the flashes of the storm and Vivid got her first leisurely look at a nude man. He was magnificent. The muscles gleamed darkly, the legs looked powerful, as did the rigid proof of his desire. "You're a well-made man, Nate Grayson..."
Nate let her look her fill, then said with a soft chuckle, "Virgins are supposed to cower and cry, princess, not stare greedily."
"Well, I'm new at this," she whispered, her voice sultry. "So while you're furthering my medical education, you'll have to apprise me of all these rules..."
Nate's manhood leaped at the saucy, heat-filled invitation. It took all the willpower he possessed not to tumble her back on the bed and apprise her immediately, but she'd never had a man before; he needed to go slow.
He didn't see how he'd ever manage it, however, as he joined her on the bed. Her dark skin was as soft as lilies, her mouth as vibrant as rain. She was born to bloom under his hands, and he was never going to let her go.
"Am I allowed to touch you?" she asked as his lips trailed fire along her throat and then the tempting curve of her shoulder. He cupped her breast then lifted it in offering as he lowered his mouth to feast. He then raised his head and kissed her lushly. "Touch has no rules..."
Vivid placed her hand around the object of her curiosity and felt the warmth pulsate against her palm. She slid her small hand up then down the satin shaft while marveling at how something so hard could feel so velvety soft. "Show me..." she coaxed quietly against his ear.
Nate covered her hand and intimately showed her the way. He was breathless less than halfway through the lesson, so breathless he had to still her hand and close his eyes to keep from exploding.
“Did I do something wrong?'' she asked through the haze of desire. She could feel him throbbing like a heartbeat within the circle of her hand.
"No. Your hot little hands are making it hard to go slow is all."
"Then let's not go slow," she suggested lazily as she lifted her lips to his.
"Brazen woman..."
Nate eased her back on the bed, then spread kisses over her skin, paying slow, masterful attention to the two buds on her breasts and the tempting little one between her thighs. When he sensed her to be on the edge of her second release he coaxed open her thighs and partially eased his way into her warmth. She was tight, so tight he had to halt his penetration and let the sensations level for a moment to keep from lustily thrusting his way home. He was a big man; he didn't want to cause her injury, nor did he want this interlude to be something she looked back on with fear or regret. "This may hurt a bit," he confessed, "but only this once..."
It did hurt, but just long enough for the pain to register, then it slowly faded into pleasure as he began the age-old dance of man loving woman. Vivid had no idea how she was supposed to respond, so she gave herself up to his tutoring hands and the magic rhythm spreading through her thighs. As the intensity increased, so did his stroking. He teased her intimately, coaxed her brazenly. He gave her the strength of all he had to offer until she could take no more. The release slammed into her with the force of a thunderclap. Every cell in her body caught fire as she rode the wave of the buffeting storm.
Nate could no longer keep himself in check. Watching her arching so deliciously pushed him into his own release. He gripped her hips as the tension climbed, then growled loudly as the world exploded into a brilliant light.
Later, they lay side by side in the darkness listening to the night. The storm had passed on and only faint rumbles of thunder could be heard in the distance. Vivid said softly, "I guess we're doing something more than courting now."
"I think you're right." He chuckled. He turned on his side and raised himself on an elbow to face her. "Is that so bad?"
"No, Nate, it isn't."
Her reward was a soft kiss.
Nate drew back and asked, “What made you change your mind?" Then, like a self-satisfied male, added, "as if I didn't already know the answer."
"You need to be more humble, Nathaniel Grayson, you really do."
Nate kissed her until the embers of their last encounter slowly glowed to life once again. "Thunder Gods aren't supposed to be humble," he informed her, grazing her nipple with his finger. "Besides, it's hard to be humble when all I have to do is this, to know how much you appreciate me." He lowered his mouth and suckled her until her hips rose and a moan of pleasure slid from her throat.
"See?" he whispered hotly.
He gave her a nibble, then raised his head. "Now, you were saying?"
His attentions had her body in such an uproar, she forgot for a moment what she'd been about to say. "I was saying that your lovemaking played a role, but talking with Maddie made me come to a decision."
"You talked with Maddie? When?"
Vivid explained the circumstances surrounding their meeting.
When she paused in the telling, he asked, "Is she going to be okay? Is she recovered?"
"Yes. The Quilt Ladies helped by bringing her meals and checking on her until she got back on her feet."
He stared, confused. "Why in the world would the Quilt Ladies want to help Maddie after all these years of sniping at her?''
"Because I asked them to."
Nate didn't understand this. The Quilt Ladies had been a thorn in Maddie's side ever since she'd returned.
Even after she sold the Emporium and retired to her books and
her beloved dogs, they never let her forget she'd been a whore. To this day the Widow Moss still crossed the street if she encountered Maddie in town. It took the reverend's fiery sermon on forgiveness and being Christian to make the old biddies stop hissing at her whenever Maddie attended church. So he didn't understand their newfound generosity at all. "What did you threaten them with?"
"I told them I'd tell their husbands about the poker games they hold once a week."
"The Quilt Ladies play poker?"
"Every Wednesday night down in Miss Edna's storeroom."
Nate didn't believe this. "How'd you find out?"
"Miss Edna invited me to play, and Nate, if you tell a soul, I will never speak to you again."
“Never is a long time, Dr. Princess. Besides, give me a few moments alone with these dark jewels," he said as he ran his hands over her nipples, "and you'll speak to me. I promise."
Vivid didn't speak at all for the next few moments, she was too busy catching fire.
Nate leaned over and kissed her mouth. “Oh, by the way, so there'll be no misunderstandings, Lancaster, I will be marrying you."
"Oh, really?" she replied, smiling up at him with inner delight.
"Yes, really."
"And suppose I don't care to be Mrs. Nathaniel Grayson?"
"Then I suppose I'll have to spend the rest of the night trying to change your mind."
By the time Nate finished changing Vivid's mind, the sun was rising.
Chapter 17
At church the following Sunday the congregation J- m-greeted Nate's announcement of their upcoming marriage with applause and shouts of congratulations. Vivid stood shyly as the reverend gave them both his blessing. She looked over at Magic, who had a grin on her small face the size of Lake Michigan, then Abigail, who had joyous tears in her eyes. Mr. Crowley, not to be upstaged, made his own announcement, an announcement Nate was still chuckling over as they rode home.
He told his aunt sitting beside Vivid, "Aunt Gail, I don't know why you're so mad. It's about time you and Adam had your arguments under the same roof."
"How dare he tell everyone we're courting," Abigail said. "He's one of the most bullheaded, stubborn, and opinionated people on this earth."
"And you're not?" Nate asked.
"That's beside the point. I don't want to be courted by Adam Crowley."
Vivid simply shook her head and smiled as the landscape rolled slowly by.
Vivid spent the month of July trying to escape the miserable humidity, swatting at mosquitoes the size of small birds, and working herself to the bone. Her practice area had widened now that word had gotten around about her skills and good nature, making for many more nights away from home. The Michigan Central Railroad had asked her to doctor their Black porters and cooks and some lumber camps offered her a stipend to treat their injured Black employees.
All in all, she was very busy.
And she didn't see much of Nate, either. He was traveling around the area reporting to the members of the Committee on the meeting he'd attended in Indianapolis. The Committee, or Council as it was called in some places, had been formed by a group of Black veterans after Mr. Lincoln's war. They encouraged Blacks to vote, formed Republican clubs, and ensured that Blacks, especially those newly freed in the South, were not cheated in business transactions or in the courts. However, for the last few years Committee members had been secretly gathering information on the Blacks in the South, and as Nate reported at the Grove's last town meeting, the situation looked hopeless. Many Black men had been killed trying to vote in the South in 1874, and this fall's election promised to be even bloodier. In Mississippi and Louisiana, whole parishes and counties reported no Black men alive over the age of eighteen. Those men fortunate enough to escape the Redemptionist wrath of the White Leagues fled their homes for safer climes, many times leaving their distraught families behind and taking with them nothing more than the clothes on their backs. Because of the rampant violence, some Blacks were calling for migration to Liberia and other parts of Africa. Nate told his neighbors about a man by the name of Henry Adams and a Tennessee man named Benjamin "Pap" Singleton, who were trying to organize a movement out of the South and into the Western territories of Kansas and Nebraska. The so-called representative Negroes like Frederick Douglass were sitting on the fence on the migration issue.
Vivid knew that Nate had to speak with many people before he could come home. But she hoped he would hurry back.
The stove Vivid had ordered through Miss Edna finally arrived. To celebrate, she invited Maddie and Eli to dinner. Nate had been gone two weeks now, and Vivid hoped the company would take her mind off how much she missed him. The dinner went as well as she'd hoped. Vivid loved hearing their stories about how they grew up together.
Eli asked Maddie, "Remember the time Nate and Vincent Red Bird had you convinced you could fly?"
"You would have to bring that up," Maddie replied, but she couldn't suppress her smile. "One of the dumbest things I ever did in my life." Maddie turned to Vivid. "Nate and Vincent claimed to have seen an eagle spirit on the way to school one day and they said the spirit gave them the power of flight."
"And you believed them?"
"I was eight years old, Viveca. The boys were my idols. I believed everything they told me."
Eli laughed. "Nate and Vincent lit a fire and did a ceremonial dance. They fanned smoke on her and told her to start climbing. Nobody really believed she'd be half-brained enough to jump, but she did."
"Broke my arm."
"Oh, no," Vivid cried.
"Oh, yes."
"Don't feel too sorry for her. She got her revenge a few days later," he offered wryly. "When Uncle Absalom found out about Maddie's arm, Nate and I got the worst whipping of our lives for that prank. We couldn't sit for a month."
After the meal, Vivid cleared the table of the dinner dishes and brought out the cobbler she'd made for dessert. At her suggestion they all took their plates out to the back porch where it was much cooler. As they ate, Eli regaled them with what he planned to see on his visit to the Philadelphia Centennial exposition. Ten million people were expected to attend and he would see everything from electric-powered lights, to something called linoleum that was supposed to cover floors. He told them about the wondrous telephone that would be in one of the thousands of displays and the animated wax rendering of Cleopatra. Blacks had been barred from the Centennial's construction gangs and for the most part excluded from the displays. Still, the noted Black painter Edward Bannister won a Centennial prize for his painting Under the Oaks, and Mary Lewis Montgomery of the Montgomery family of Davis Bend, Mississippi, won the agricultural award for the world's best cotton, just as she'd done at the St. Louis Fair in 1870.
Vivid walked her guests out to Maddie's wagon at the end of the evening's visit, buoyed by their talk and companionship.
"So," Maddie asked as she picked up the reins, "when's the wedding?"
"I'll know as soon as I receive a letter from my parents letting me know when they can come out. I want them to be here."
"Nate could do a whole lot worse," Maddie said. "I'm happy for you both."
Eli chuckled. "Stop lying, Maddie, you've been in love with Nate since you were nine. You're hoping she gets run over by a train."
Maddie laughed. "He's right, you know. I hate losing, but if I have to lose, I prefer it be to a woman like you, Viveca."
"Thanks, Maddie."
"You're welcome."
She drove off with a wave and left Vivid and Eli standing in the road.
When Vivid awakened the next morning, she and the bed were covered with daisies and black-eyed susans. Nate! Jumping from the bed, she washed up, threw on her clothes, and flew out the door.
"Where is he?" Vivid asked breathlessly after entering the Grayson kitchen like a whirlwind.
Abigail laughed. "You're as bad as Majestic. They're out front."
Vivid hurried through the house to the front door. She could see him in the fr
ont yard with Magic, but rather than run pell-mell outside, she waited until he was finished talking with his daughter. Magic had missed her pa probably as much as, if not more than, Vivid and she didn't dare interrupt their reunion.
Instead, Vivid feasted her eyes on her husband-to-be. He was as magnificently handsome as ever. The broad shoulders and the trim waist evoked memories of how his muscles felt beneath her hands. He was strong enough to be a gentle man not only in lovemaking but in spirit, too, as evidenced by his relationship with his daughter.
Nate looked up and saw her standing in the doorway, her smile warmed him. He'd gotten back as soon as he could, but it hadn't been quick enough. He missed her with each passing day, wondering what she might be doing and if she was staying out of trouble. There'd be no more wondering now; he was home and her smile beamed only for him.
He spent a few more moments with his daughter, then as Magic went off to show Jeremiah the new slingshot her father had brought back from Kalamazoo, he stepped onto the porch.
"So how are you," he said softly, "besides being in need of a good loving?''
"Nate Grayson!" Vivid replied with a scandalized laugh. She glanced around to make sure he hadn't been overheard by Abigail in the house. "I must find you some humble pills immediately."
"Lancaster, I haven't kissed you in over two weeks. You're as hungry for me as I am for you."
"Very large humble pills," Vivid told him, feeling all her senses come alive as she looked into his eyes.
"Very large desire," he countered.
Vivid had never played such verbal games with a man before. His frankness sometimes brought heat to her cheeks, but she found the back-and-forth quite stimulating.
He reached out and slowly ran a finger over her mouth, then kissed her with a welcome that made her wish they were in a more secluded place. The reunion was interrupted when Adam Crowley rode up. He greeted them both, then asked if Abigail was home.