Apprehension (15 page)

Raising his head, he began flicking her protruding nub.

Burying her hands in his hair, her fingers massaged his scalp as she pressed him closer to her sweet cunt. With her back arching off the shower wall, she climaxed, causing her hips to buck toward his face. Catching the refreshing piquant liquid in his mouth, he greedily consumed the flow of her orgasm.

Standing, he gazed into her warm brown eyes, which were glowing with ecstasy.

"You're mine," he told her, needing to place his claim on her the only way she allowed.

"Always."

The single word of confirmation made him feel feral and dominant. Lifting her against the wet stone, he positioned himself between her legs.

Robert loved how Danielle was never tentative about kissing him after he tasted her delectable sex. Leaning in, she kissed him deeply as they worked together in unison. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he buried his dick inside 106

APPREHENSION

her in one sure thrust. His ears rang with their moans of passion and the sound mingled with the splashing water and reverberated around the room. Grinding into her, he gave her pleasure. She undulated against him, returning the favor.

Entwined in each other's arms, he and Danielle climaxed.

He couldn't say whose orgasm sparked the other's, neither did he care as long as they were together.

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"Sweetheart, I don't want this to end." Robert leaned over Danielle in his bed, tracing the cocoa colored tip of her nipple. "I want more."

"Well, if I want to walk tomorrow, we're going to have to stop eventually," she giggled, misunderstanding his words.

Stilling his hand, he looked into her milk chocolate brown eyes. "Not sex tonight. I mean us."

Her hand sifting through the hair on his chest stopped. The eyes that had been clear moments ago shaded as if blinds had been drawn over her soul.

"As in?"

She tensed under his hand, a deer prepared for flight.

Placing a hand on her waist, to keep her from going before he said what was in his heart, he began, "Danielle, I want to be able to tell everyone I'm with you. See you in the morning when I wake up if I want to. Sit across from you in a restaurant."

"Robert, we've been down this road before—"

"Let me finish, sweetheart." He moved his hand to her lip.

"I'm not asking because I want you as some trophy on my arm.

But, I want you to understand how much I care about you. I want you as a permanent fixture in my life."

"This will never work." She shook her head and sat up.

"It will if we want it to." He gazed up at her.

"This county is not ready for us to be the first interracial couple."

Sitting up, he grabbed her hands. "I don't care about this town's opinion. You're what matters and how much I lo—"

"Don't say it." Launching herself off the bed, Danielle held her hands up as if warding him and his words off.

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He was beginning to get upset. The tension in his jaw was causing his teeth to clench. Not following her, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Why the hell not?"

"Because we'll both be hurt. This is a fantasy, Robert, and soon we
are
going to have to wake up."

"Bullshit!" he exploded and got off the bed then. "If this is all some damn dream we've been living then why did you move to Claremont?"

She retreated to the bathroom. "Let's not do this, Robert.

Please." She called from the other room.

"Not this time, Danielle, we're going to put everything on the table and deal with it. Then we can move forward. Together."

Stomping out of the room dressed in her leggings and sports bra, she said, "Deal with it?" A harsh dry chuckle came from her lips. "No."

Seizing her arm, he said, "Why would you rather run away instead of face our problems head on?"

"You know me, Robert, running is what I do." Pulling out of his grasp, she snatched her shirt over her head. One arm, then the other came out of the side. "You're the prince of Claremont County, Robert, with a big bad general of a father ruling this town. They don't want this." Her finger waved between the two of them. "I don't know why you try to ignore that fact." She jammed her feet in her sneakers.

"You want facts. How about I thought you were the most beautiful girl I've ever seen when I met you? Fact. I've never stopped thinking about you since I went away to college. Fact. I couldn't even study for the bar exam without hearing your laugh or seeing your smile. Final fact. My father may be a general, but he taught me not to stop fighting for what I want. I want you.

Us." Now he was even more pissed and shocked when he heard himself yelling. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he stepped to her and prepared to pull her in his arms.

She moved out of reach. "How can you want and care about someone you don't really know?" Her voice was low, almost making it difficult to hear.

Robert tried to read her features, but they remained neutral, not giving anything away. "I know you, sweetheart. Inside and out." He gave her a wicked smile.

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Not returning his smile, she asked in a hollow voice.

"What's my name?"

What game is she playing now?
"Seriously, honey?"

"What's my name?" she repeated the question.

"Fine." He threw his hands up. "Danielle Smith."

"Wrong." Exiting his bedroom, she walked up the hall.

His long strides allowed him to reach her, steps away from the living room. "Hold up a second. You can't make a statement like that then leave. How can I be wrong? You've had the same name since I met you eight years ago."

"Not legally at that time."

Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood formidable as a wall, refusing to allow her to pass. "If Danielle isn't your real name, why lie? I didn't know you."

"I lied because I liked you. From across the room, you astounded me. It took everything inside of me to approach you.

All the way over to you, I thought about introducing myself, then I considered the shock on your face when I told you my name."

"I wouldn't have cared, Danielle. I desired you. Every randy hormone was shouting inside my body when you walked up to me. I was sitting outside because none of those other girls even grabbed my attention. Black or white. I was getting ready to find my friends and tell them let's go."

Squeezing past him, she entered the living room. "I should have let it end eight years ago." Stopping at the door, she turned.

"But I couldn't stay away no matter how much I tried."

"So, who are you?" he asked, standing behind his couch.

"LaQuesha Taleshia Danola Smith." Shrugging her shoulder, she said, "My mom couldn't make up her mind, so she gave me all of her inventions. My friends always called me Danni. So, I applied to college in Atlanta and put Danielle Smith on the application. A year later I got it legally changed. I've never looked back."

"That explains a lot." Running his hands over his head, he sighed.

"Like what? That I'm a girl from the wrong side of the city?" she guffawed.

"No. Why I couldn't find you."

Shock registered on her face.

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He was glad he was finally in the other seat. It was time for him to knock her off balance. "Christmas of my sophomore year, I came home. I drove to Valdosta and made some inquires about Danielle Smith. No one had ever heard of her." He crossed the carpet toward her. "I had a Rip Van Winkle moment. I thought that maybe I slept that summer and dreamed you."

Her eyes became glassy as they filled with water. "It wasn't a dream. But, this is still not going to work."

Reaching out, he held her face between his hands. "It has to, because just like when I'm inside of you and you need me to move harder and faster for you to come, I need you in my life so I can breathe."

Stretching up on her toes, she kissed him. "I have to go."

She turned away.

As he watched her, she grabbed the rolling case she'd placed by the door after they straightened up after dinner, then pulled the door open and left.

He allowed her to leave this time, knowing they both needed time to absorb the information. But, his heart was light.

A plan was formulating in his mind to prove to her his feelings were real.

* * * *

Squeezing them together and blinking, she cleared them. She knew if she gave in to tears now that she would be in hysterics.

The thought of losing Robert hurt her to her soul. But, it was probably inevitable.

It was almost midnight and most of the neighbors on Robert's street were sleeping or in for the night. She had parked a block away, not wanting anyone to see her car in his driveway for extended hours. Increasing her pace, she arrived at her vehicle and deposited the food bag inside. Still feeling emotionally charged from the conversation with Robert, she decided to go for a run. This set of houses was almost a perfect mile around the block. She needed to expend some of the energy or she would never get to sleep.

Starting out in a light jog, her strides lengthened to a quicker pace as she settled into the rhythm and her thoughts began to race in her head. She questioned whether she was 111

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making the right decision. If possible, she was allowing fear to hold her back from the man she loved. She loved Robert. There was no doubt in her mind. He'd asked her why she had come to Claremont and it was because of him. Not to have a relationship with him because she thought he would've been married to some country club girl, but mainly just to be around him. She knew it was pathetic. However, the years without him had been grueling.

Many things had happened to her since they parted that summer, but she had to question whether or not she was allowing her past pain to hurt her future with Robert. Maybe she was being a bit ridiculous. This was a new year, new era. The browning of America was happening all over the country, maybe now was the time for it to occur in Claremont.

The weight on her shoulders began to lighten, but her steps faltered slightly when she considered the reaction of Robert's family. She'd had a run-in with the general before and he was one person who probably would not be smiling to see her arm linked with his son's.

Taking a deep breath as she rounded the corner that would take her past Robert's house for the third time, she decided it was time for her to meet him halfway in the relationship.

Seeing the police and a cluster of Robert's neighbors standing outside, Danielle slowed down to a light jog, progressing toward the crowd.

A small gray-haired white woman in a long robe with a floor-length housedress peeping out of the bottom, was speaking loudly while her arms waved around in the air toward the officer.

Danielle wondered what had happened in the twenty minutes she'd been running. Steps away she heard the woman say, "Something has to be done. I don't even feel safe anymore in my own neighborhood."

"Let's try and be calm about this, Ms. Hanscom." Brantley's bulky frame stood out among the others. He'd pulled a double shift because one of the other officers had gotten sick.

Danielle smiled to herself as he attempted to push his verbal authority over the little woman.

"Don't tell me to calm down! My house was vandalized twice with eggs and toilet paper and one of my trashcans were stolen on trash day and I know—"

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"Ms. Hanscom!" Brantley barked, his frustration evident.

"We already have your report down at the station about the defacement, but why did you call tonight?"

Danielle wanted to laugh. The station knew Ms. Hanscom as the town busybody who refused to consider that her house could get TP'd during the high school home games like anyone else. But the old lady chose to believe that someone was out to get her personally. Spotting Robert out of the corner of her eye as he approached, he raised an eyebrow at her. She knew he probably wondered what she was still doing here, but she refused to look at him or give him an excuse. Tomorrow she would call him with her decision. Let him stew and worry tonight. Biting her lip, Danielle hid her smile.

Ms. Hanscom stared at Officer Brantley and the other onlookers. "I've been watching every night to see if those vandals would come back. Jessica Fletcher always said that criminals come back to the scene of a crime. She was right…because I saw them scoping out our houses tonight."

Moving closer to the pack, Danielle frowned. Great. Just what the department needed tonight, an old woman doped up on reruns of
Murder She Wrote
and thinking she's a detective.

Pulling his small issued notepad out of his pocket, probably to humor the hysterical old woman, Brantley asked, "What did you see?"

"That woman." Hanscom's accusing finger aimed directly at Danielle.

Danielle was speechless as she looked down the accusing finger of Ms. Hanscom, seeing the old woman's suspicious eyes.

Glancing around her, Danielle noticed the questioning shocked looks of the other neighbors mingling around. "Me?"

"Her?" Brantley and Robert called out simultaneously.

"Yes, her," Ms. Hanscom declared. "What is she doing here? She doesn't belong in this neighborhood, it's a private residence."

Heat and anger traveled along the blood moving through Danielle's veins. She was pissed.

Brantley's laugh broke the tension. "You're mistaken."

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Finally dropping her pointed finger, Ms. Hanscom folded her arms under the small sagging breasts the sizes of prunes.

"How do you know? There aren't any blacks that live here."

"Because…" Robert began.

Danielle looked at him and gave a slight shake of her head.

If he was thinking about confessing their relationship, now was not the time. This moment made it clear to her that maybe she'd been correct in her argument with Robert. The Ms. Hanscoms of Claremont were not ready for them.