Given (12 page)

* * *

“Talk to me,” Jacob said.

“About what?”
Mary Katherine lifted her head from his chest to look at him.

“Well, to begin, you were quite uninhibited. That in itself is surprising.”

Blushing, she hid her face against him. “I wasn't that bad.”

Jacob smiled as he took his fingers through her hair. “You misunderstand me; I'm not saying it's bad. In fact, I think your boldness—” He broke off, chuckling when she pinched him.

“I was not
bold
. I was just—”

“Oh, you were bold, all right. I saw you fondling your breasts when I was enjoying a little taste of your clitoris.”

“'Clitoris'?” she asked in confusion. “You called my vagina a 'pussy' earlier. Which is it?”

Caleb laughed loudly and then, taking hold of her arms, lifted her up a bit so he could look into her eyes. “You are serious,” he said wonderingly when he saw that there was no hint of amusement in her eyes.

“Of course I am,” she stated. “I like to learn, and I've never heard either word before.”

He released her, and she settled back onto his chest. “Well, your clitoris is that little buttonlike protrusion you have at the apex of your thighs. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“All right, then. To continue,” he began, thinking that this was probably the strangest conversation he'd ever had with a woman, “the word 'pussy' is used to describe your vagina. It's more of a pejorative term—”

Mary Katherine's head popped up again. “Then why did you use it?”

Jacob studied her face. Again, there was that innocent curiosity in her eyes, and he smiled guiltily. “Well, uh, the word sort of just adds to the general excitement.”

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment longer, nodded, as if in agreement, and laid back down.

He guessed that meant that she was fine with the word, and decided to finish his explanation. “And just so we're clear, even though I like the words very much, I don't want you repeating them outside of our bed, wherever that may be.”

Mary Katherine snorted softly and said, “Of course I would never repeat anything that is said while we're intimate. I'm not indiscreet.”

“Ah, but you
are
bold,” he teased again. His voice lowered seductively. “I liked seeing you touch yourself. Have you done it before tonight?”

Mary Katherine squirmed uncomfortably against him, but she nodded shyly.

He felt it, and his body quickened with renewed desire. “Show me.”

“You want to watch me while I…while I…”

Jacob rubbed her bare shoulder. “While you pleasure yourself, yes.” His voice was barely more than a guttural utterance as he thought about all the possible ways in which she might have brought herself to climax. He felt her nipple distend and press into his chest, felt one of her legs subconsciously saw back and forth between the two of his, and knew she was as taken by the idea as he. He gave her an encouraging squeeze. “Wouldn't you like that?”

She hid her face and tightened her arms around his neck, and Jacob chuckled deeply. He smoothed his hand over and over again from her hair to her back in a soothing motion. “Don't be embarrassed. You don't have to if you don't want to.”

Her voice was muffled, but he heard her. “I do want to…but…but…”

“But what?”

“It's just that it would be difficult to do with you actually in the room.”

Jacob didn't need to hear another word. “Say no more,” he told her and dropped a kiss on top of her head. He slid her off his chest, lifted her chin, and took her mouth, sipping gently from it before he rose from the bed and left the room.

Mary Katherine watched him leave, thoroughly enjoying the view. She quirked a brow.
Even the man's backside makes me feel wanton
. A nervous excitement thrummed through her and heated her blood as she thought about what she was about to do.
And Jacob's right outside the door looking in.

She adjusted the pillows and lay back, resisting the natural urge to pull the covers over herself. She did allow herself a small measure of a sense of privacy and used one arm to cover her eyes. Thinking about Jacob, she trailed her hand over her breasts and, remembering how good it had felt earlier, tweaked each nipple in turn.

She thought about how he'd used his mouth on her, and her thighs opened, making her shiver as her suddenly overly sensitive skin rubbed against the sheets. She circled a nipple delicately with one finger and then pinched the other one before sliding her hand down the center of her torso and to her navel.

She'd never thought much about her navel but decided
why not
? and circled the depression with her finger before dipping it inside and twirling it around. A mild thrill shot straight to her mound, causing her hips to thrust forward. She gasped and, without further ado, began to finger her clitoris. Her back arched, and she cried out. But thinking again about Jacob and his methods, she did something she hadn't done before and slipped her finger into her sheath, pulling it in and out several times. Dissatisfied with the lack of fullness, she tried two fingers.

“Better,” she murmured and started pumping her hips in tandem with her fingers' motions. But it still wasn't enough. It didn't feel like the real thing. It didn't feel like Jacob.

Jacob.

She felt him sit on the bed but didn't open her eyes. When she felt his hand cover hers, she stilled and let him pull her fingers free of her opening. He kept his hand over hers, and she spread her thighs to accommodate both. He guided her hand so that her fingers began rubbing up and down her slit and fondling her clitoris. Her breath caught just as he placed his mouth on hers. “God, sweetheart, you are so beautiful, and this is so erotic,” he muttered before he took her mouth again.

She opened for him, her head pressing back into the mattress as she removed her arm from her face to embrace his neck and hold him in place. She slid her fingers back and forth over herself and reveled in the decadence. Even feeling how wet she was appealed to her sense of naughtiness, and she marveled at the heat building in her stomach and coming on fast. Her breathing was getting shallow now and was also speeding up. She broke away from the kiss and, still holding on to Jacob, pressed her face to his shoulder as her body went wild beneath her hand.

Her fingers raced over her flesh now as she tried desperately to reach orgasm. When it finally hit her, she closed her legs, trapping both her hand and Jacob's inside. Falling back against the pillows again, she closed her eyes and sobbed as wave after wave of pleasure took her.

* * *

“You're going to marry me, Mary Katherine.”

Mary Katherine said nothing to Jacob's edict, just forked up more eggs and chewed slowly. She'd been expecting it and, in fact, was mildly surprised that he'd said nothing until now. They were at her kitchen table, dawn had yet to break the sky, and she'd made eggs and toast for him before he left for his home.

“So when do you want to get married? It will have to be soon, because I'm already finding it difficult to keep my hands off you.”

Mary Katherine smiled weakly at his jest. Despite the fact that they'd made love, she still was not ready to get married. Not only was her independence at stake, but Jacob had said nothing about loving her. She'd seen love in her parents' marriage, and she wanted the same. “Well, I was thinking that perhaps things don't have to change. I mean, we—I-I…” She stuttered to a halt when he slowly lifted his head and pinned her gaze with his.

“We're getting married,” he said implacably. “The only question now is when.”

Mary Katherine's mouth thinned with anger. “Don't be so high-handed, Jacob Adams. There's no law that says I have to marry you!”

“Marriage is the only way. I refuse to sneak over here like a thief in the night every time I want to make love to you.”

She shrugged and looked down at her plate. “Well, maybe we don't have to make love again.”

Disbelieving laughter exploded from Jacob's throat. “Last night is proof that we can barely restrain ourselves. If it hadn't been your first time making love, I'd still be inside you right now, and damn getting home before the town wakes up.”

Mary Katherine kept her head down, knowing he was right about their having to get married; she just wished that he weren't. She didn't want to stop seeing him. He'd opened up a whole new world to her, and she wasn't so willing to turn back now. Besides the fact that it was sinful to make love without marriage, she knew chances were high they'd get caught. That sort of thing always got out. But sinful or not, if Mary Katherine could be sure that they wouldn't get caught—damaging both his reputation and hers—she'd keep things as they were. She did not want to marry a man who didn't love her. If she thought he loved her, she'd feel more confident. Oh, she knew she'd still have qualms about the state of marriage and what that meant for her as a woman, but she wouldn't feel so unsure.

“Kate. Sweetheart.”

She looked up to see Jacob looking expectantly at her and holding his hand out for hers. When she gave it to him, he tugged until she was rising out of her chair. He pulled her down into his lap, then folded his arms around her when she tucked her head under his chin. “It's going to be all right, sweetheart; you'll see. I'm going to take care of you, and before you say anything, I expect you to take care of me as well. We'll be partners.”

Mary Katherine snuggled closer. She needed to change the subject. “Tell me why you went to Sierra Leone.”

“How'd you know I was in Sierra Leone and not out West? Wait. Grace told you, didn't she?”

Mary Katherine nodded. “Yes. Why did your family bandy about the story that you were out West?”

“We didn't. That's just what people assumed, and Papa and Grace and Matthew didn't bother to correct them.”

“All right, so tell me why you went.”

“Oh that's easy. I wanted to taste true freedom. I'd heard about Paul Cuffee and how he used his money to help free Negroes immigrate to Africa, and I wanted to see what it was all about. You've heard of Paul Cuffee, right?”

“Of course,” Mary Katherine replied. “He was a free Negro who made his wealth in the shipping trade.”

“Right.
Well, in Sierra Leone, there's a town called, oddly enough, Freetown, and that's where I went.”

“What was it like?”

“For Negroes, it's like nothing you'd see here. I did feel more freedom there than I've ever felt anywhere, but I needed to come home. There was work to do here.”

“But you were gone for an awfully long time. What did you do to take care of yourself?”

“The same thing that I do here: carpentry. I didn't have a shop or anything. I just hired myself out.”

“Do you think you'll ever go back?”

“No, as I said, there's work to be done here. I couldn't justify staying over there when I knew I was needed here to help on the underground.”