Ties That Bind

A Novel

Brenda Jackson

St. Martin's Griffin

 
Ties That Bind
Book One
1965 – 1968
Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for and sweet for bitter.

 
Isaiah 5:20
One
October 1965
Howard University, Washington, DC
“For crying out loud, Jenna, the least you can do is act like you want to go,” Ellie Stanhope said, glancing at her watch. “What else do you have to do tonight?”
“Study,” was Jenna Haywood’s reply as she turned away from the closet and walked over to the bed to put on her shoes.
“All you ever do is study.”
Jenna glanced over her shoulder at Ellie. “Have you forgotten this is college and getting an education is the reason we’re here?”
“Whoa, speak for yourself. That’s not why I’m here. I came to Howard for a different reason altogether.”
Jenna shook her head. It hadn’t taken long for Ellie to explain when they first met two years ago that the reason she had come to Howard University was to find an educated man to marry who could give her the good life she wanted.
Jenna couldn’t understand any black woman still thinking that way. That had been the norm for women years ago, to go off to college to find a husband. But now all across the country more and more women were demanding equal rights, although for most black women and men, civil rights were the main thing they were fighting for. But still, women were finally coming into their own, getting recognized for their accomplishments. There was even a women’s liberation movement that had recently gotten started. And as far as black women were concerned, thanks to the Civil Rights Act that was passed last year, you could now enter jobs that used to be considered for “white women only”.
Ellie was right. Her reasons for coming to Howard were altogether different from Jenna’s. Jenna wanted to one day become an architect, a field a lot of women had not yet ventured into. Besides, she owed it to her parents, who had scraped and saved their last dime to send her to college to do her very best in school.
“Will you please hurry up, Jenna!”
Jenna turned and saw Ellie impatiently tapping her foot on the floor. “What’s the rush?”
Ellie rolled her eyes heavenward. “Jenna, this is the biggest, most important fraternity party of the year. Everyone who is anyone on campus was invited.”
Jenna smiled. “Then how did we get invited? We aren’t anybody. At least we aren’t anybody important.”
“Speak for yourself, Jenna Haywood. I am somebody. I’m a woman with my eyes on Sonny Cahill.”
Jenna didn’t have to ask who Sonny Cahill was. He was the senior who was the son of New Jersey’s first Negro mayor. And everybody on campus knew that like his father, Sonny had political aspirations. Everybody also knew that he was seeing Terri Whitelaw on a steady basis, who happened to be this year’s homecoming queen. Jenna couldn’t help wondering how Ellie thought she would fit into the picture. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”
Ellie headed for the door. “It’s about time.”

 
The sound of Fontella Bass’ hit single, “Rescue Me,” was blasting when Jenna and Ellie neared the building where the party was being held. Black and gold streamers and balloons were all around the courtyard. Jenna heard that when the Alphas held their annual party, it was indeed a party. She also knew the most popular guys on campus belonged to this fraternity, which no doubt was another reason Ellie was eager to attend. Last year they hadn’t received an invitation. But this year was different.
“And for pete’s sake, Jenna, try not to look bored tonight. A lot of the AKAs and Deltas will be here. I know you aren’t interested in joining a sorority but I am, and I don’t want them to get the wrong idea about me just because we’re roommates.”
Jenna lifted a brow. “And just what idea is that?”
“That I’m a fuddy-duddy bookworm. I have plenty of time to buckle down and hit the books during senior year. Right now I want to enjoy college life and make sure my future is set. Hopefully I’ll have good news for my parents when I go home for Christmas.”
Jenna knew from what Ellie had told her that her parents were the driving forces behind her finding a husband at college. According to Ellie, her parents had met that way at Howard years ago. Her father was a pharmacist and her mother was a schoolteacher. Ellie had also explained that although she didn’t think her parents were in love or anything like that, the most important thing was that they were well suited for each other, which made things even better. Jenna couldn’t understand why anyone would think that way, or why anyone would want their daughter to follow in their footsteps and enter a relationship so clinical and loveless.
Jenna thought about her own parents. Neither had gone to college but her father was proud of his job as a meat cutter and her mother enjoyed working as a cook in the school’s cafeteria. And as far as love was concerned, John and Jackie Haywood had plenty of it for each other as well as for their four children.
By the time Jenna and Ellie reached the building where the party was being held, a number of people were coming in and out, and others were hanging around outside talking and having what seemed to be a good time. There was no doubt in Jenna’s mind that Ellie would enjoy herself tonight. But Jenna doubted that she would. Her mind would be preoccupied with thoughts of the test she would have in her history class on Monday. Because of this party, she would have to spend most of Sunday studying.
As they entered the building Jenna hoped that Ellie wasn’t planning to stay too late. If so then she wouldn’t have any choice but to leave her here, although she didn’t really want to do that. But Ellie was determined to be a part of the in-crowd, no matter what it took. She and Ellie were two different people with two different sets of goals and ambitions. Jenna had accepted that and was fine with it. But she knew Ellie had a long way to go to accept her way of thinking and to understand that there were more important things in life besides husband-hunting.

 

 
“Hey, how about if we ditch this party and go to my dorm and make out?”
Jenna smiled at Johnny Lane as he came to stand beside her just as her favorite song, “Rainbow 65” by Gene Chandler, began playing. Johnny, six foot four, muscular, with good dark looks, was one of the first persons she had met upon arriving at Howard and was a known flirt around campus. “Sorry, Johnny, I have a headache,” she said grinning. “I’m surprised to see you here though. I thought you didn’t do the fraternity thing.”
He shrugged. “Normally I don’t but a man has to eat sometimes and the food here is always good.” He glanced around the room then smirked at her. “I see Princess Ellie was able to talk you into coming.”
Jenna shook her head. Johnny and Ellie didn’t get along. In fact they disliked each other intensely. Ellie claimed he lacked any kind of breeding and polish. On the other hand, Johnny thought Ellie was a snob. “I didn’t mind.”
“Yeah, right,” he said grinning, knowing better. “How you put up with her beats me. She’s operating under the misconception that she’s popular on campus when in fact very few people actually like her.”
Jenna shrugged. Feeling loyalty to her roommate she said, “Ellie’s okay. She just tries too hard at times.”
Johnny snorted. “In trying to get people to like her she somehow manages to get them not to like her.”
Jenna took a sip of her punch. She knew that in the beginning Johnny had had a thing for Ellie. When she all but made him feel he wasn’t worthy of her affections, whatever feelings he’d felt for her had turned into animosity. Jenna hated that because she considered both Johnny and Ellie her friends and often found herself right smack in the middle of their fray. More than once, Ellie had tried making her choose sides but she had refused to do so. As far as she was concerned, whatever Johnny and Ellie felt for each other didn’t involve her.
“So, is Leigh still spending most of her time over at Noah’s place?”
Jenna nodded. Leigh was her other roommate who didn’t get along with Ellie either. Instead of tolerating the situation like Jenna, Leigh spent most of her time with her boyfriend, Noah Wainwright, who lived off campus. He was three years older than Leigh and a law student.
“Can’t say I blame Leigh too much,” Johnny was now saying. “You have to be the most tolerant person on earth, Jenna.”
Jenna smiled. “I don’t let Ellie get under my skin.” Changing the subject to one that was Johnny’s favorite topic lately, namely civil rights, she asked, “I heard there may be another march on Washington next year.”
Johnny shook his head. “Don’t count on it. President Johnson is definitely not John F. Kennedy. Right now he’s too worried about what’s happening in Vietnam to give a damn about a bunch of black folks. But what this country has to realize is that young men like me have no reason to go to some god-forsaken country I know nothing about and shoot up a bunch of people I personally don’t have anything against, when I’m being treated like a second-class citizen in my own country.”
Jenna raised a brow upon hearing the anger in Johnny’s voice. “Are you saying you won’t go into the armed services if you’re drafted?”
“Hey, don’t look so surprised. I heard Muhammad Ali is thinking the same way. He went all the way to Italy and won that gold medal, and came back here and couldn’t go into a five-and-dime store and sit at the counter because he’s black.”
Jenna took another sip of her punch. Muhammad Ali, the famous boxer, who had been known as Cassius Clay until last year when he changed his name, had started speaking out against the injustices against blacks. “I hear the Muslims have held several meetings on campus.”
“Yeah, and I’ve attended a few and found them pretty interesting. Maybe you could go to one of the meetings with me,” he said, knowing full well that she wouldn’t do such a thing. Jenna was a good Southern Baptist girl who wouldn’t be caught associating with any group believed to be of a radical nature, and with such a different viewpoint than her own religion. Not to put her on the spot, he decided to change the subject and discuss a recent rumor he had heard. “Did you hear there may have been a conspiracy with Malcolm X’s death?”
Jenna lifted a brow. She wasn’t surprised. There were some people like her parents who also believed there had been a conspiracy behind President Kennedy’s death, too. Malcolm X, the onetime spokesman for the Nation of Islam and leader of the Organization for Afro-American Unity, had gotten slain earlier that year. “No, I hadn’t heard that.”
After a few minutes of filling her in on the latest rumor, Johnny said, “Well, since you won’t leave this party to go somewhere and make out with me, I guess I’ll move on. I’m sure there’s some woman here tonight who’ll be interested.”
Jenna chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure there is.” She watched as Johnny left her side and crossed the room to a group of ladies standing nearby. She checked her watch. It was close to twelve o’clock already, the midnight hour. She searched the crowd for Ellie. She had only seen her twice since they had arrived. She spotted her standing across the room talking to Tyrone Wells, one of the star players on the football team. Jenna knew that now would not be a good time to approach Ellie to let her know she was ready to leave.
Deciding to take a step outside to get a bit of fresh air, Jenna made her way through the crowd and for the door. Once outside she took a deep cleansing breath, thinking she much preferred being outside than inside.
She happened to glance across the yard where a group of guys stood talking, and blinked when she noticed that one of them was staring at her. And for the life of her she couldn’t help but stare back. From the floodlights shining off Drew Hall she could see his features clearly—he was such a dreamboat! He had medium-brown skin and black curly hair. She would guess his height to be at least six foot four and his shoulders were broad. From the Howard Bisons jersey he was wearing, she wondered if he was a member of the football team. He had, she thought, the most handsome face she had ever seen and that thought suddenly played havoc on her nerves. This was the first time she had seen any guy on campus who had even slightly interested her.
Suddenly, she realized he had left the group of guys he’d been standing with and was coming straight toward her. Jenna felt some sort of an electric current passing between them that was irresistible, undeniable. She experienced a sense of panic and for a quick moment was about to turn and go back inside. But something about the way he was looking at her stopped her, and she somehow knew that even though there was this raw energy flowing between them, she had nothing to fear from him. So she remained where she was, watching him approach. Her gaze locked firmly with his while the sound of Wilson Pickett’s “In the Midnight Hour,” drifted through the air. When he finally reached her, he smiled, took her hand in his and said in what she thought was the deepest male voice she’d ever heard, “Will you go back inside and dance with me?”

 
Jenna thought his hand felt warm as he led her back inside where they joined other couples dancing. As they moved their bodies in formation to do the swing, it occurred to her that not once had she thought of turning him down when he’d approached her.
For the longest time he didn’t speak. Neither did she. They merely stared into each other’s eyes as if they thought dancing together, in this place, at this time made perfect sense. Although they would probably be the first to admit that this intense attraction didn’t. She had never felt anything like this in her entire life, not even for Jeremy Fields and they had dated all through their last two years of high school. They had broken up after graduation when he had decided that he wanted to escape the prejudices in the South by moving to California.
“Who are you?” she finally asked, thinking she should at least know the name of the person who had miraculously warped her senses.
“Randolph Devin Fuller. And who are you?”
“Jenna. Jenna Marie Haywood.”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Hi, Jenna Marie Haywood.”
Jenna could help returning his smile. “Hi, Randolph Devin Fuller.”
“You’re a junior?” he asked with interest.
“Yes. What about you?”
“I’m a senior. Funny we never ran into each other before on campus.”
Moments later when Wilson Pickett’s song ended and a slow number by Solomon Burke immediately began playing, Randolph gently pulled Jenna to him, holding her close, but not too close as to be considered indecent or disrespectful. But it was close enough to breathe in the tantalizing scent of her perfume.
With mixed emotions bombarding him resulting from holding her in his arms, Randolph tried to calm himself down. “So, tell me about yourself,” he said, swallowing hard.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
She smiled. “That would take more than this dance, Randolph.”
He barely suppressed the chuckle rising in his throat as he kept his gaze leveled at her face. He thought she had a beautiful smile. The last thing he had expected when he showed up here tonight was to run into a woman he would find himself irresistibly attracted to. “Then tell me the important stuff like what brought you to Howard.”
Jenna nodded before she began speaking. “I’m in the school of architecture. What brought me here is my parents’ lifelong dream that I get educated at a prestigious college. They worked real hard to send me. It’s my dream to return to Knoxville and open a business there.”
“Knoxville? Is that where you’re from?”
“Yes. I’m the oldest of four kids and the only girl. Now what information would you like to share?”
He smiled. “I’m majoring in business with plans to go on to law school here. The Fullers have deep roots in Richmond, Virginia, where my father was born. My paternal grandparents still live there. My mother’s parents are in Glendale Shores, South Carolina.”
She nodded. She had heard all about Glendale Shores, which some people claimed was the most beautiful of the sea islands off the South Carolina coast. “Do you ever go to Glendale Shores to visit?”
“Not as much as I’d like. When I was a kid growing up, I spent most of my summers there.”
“Do you have any sisters or brothers?”
“Yes,” he replied, smiling fondly, thinking of the brother he was very close to. “I have a brother named Ross. He’s a law student. I heard my parents wanted a third child but once they saw what a holy terror I was, they decided two was enough.” He then studied her features, thinking how young she looked. “How old are you?”
She smiled. “I’m eighteen. I graduated from high school at sixteen. Since my mother worked in the school system, I was able to start school a year ahead of schedule.”
“Is your mother a teacher?”
“No, she’s a cook in the school cafeteria. And how old are you, Randolph?”
“I’m twenty. I’ll be twenty-one in April.”
“April? What day in April?”
“The fourth.”
Jenna blinked. “My birthday is April fourth, too,” she said, grinning from cheek to cheek. “Isn’t that a coincidence?”
“Yes, it is,” Randolph said warmly, thinking she was simply beautiful, although she hadn’t done anything to accentuate that beauty. But in his opinion, she didn’t have to. She wore her hair up in a knot that showed just what a graceful neckline she had. She had applied minimum makeup and was dressed conservatively in a skirt and blouse. But there was something about her that had grabbed his attention the moment she had walked outside.
“Why were you standing outside?” he asked curiously. “Were you getting bored already?”
Jenna didn’t say anything at first. If he was an Alpha she didn’t want to offend him by saying she wasn’t enjoying the party, so she said, “I’m not used to being up this late unless I’m studying. I was hoping my roommate would notice I wasn’t inside and take the hint that I was ready to leave. I want to go to church in the morning, then spend the rest of the day studying for a test I have on Monday.”
“Who’s your roommate?”
Jenna’s gaze searched the room. “Ellie Stanhope. She’s the girl dancing with Tyrone Wells.”
Randolph’s gaze followed hers. “If you’re ready to leave I can walk you back to your dorm.”
Jenna shook her head. “We came together and I can’t leave without making sure Ellie gets back to the dorm okay.”
He smiled. “Then I’ll make sure she does. Come on.” Sliding his hand around Jenna’s waist and drawing her to his side, he began walking in the direction where Ellie and Tyrone Wells were dancing. He tapped Tyrone Wells on the shoulder. “Ty, make sure this lady here gets back to the dorm okay. I’m walking her roommate home.”
Tyrone nodded, smiling. “Okay, Rand.”
“You’re leaving already, Jenna?” Ellie asked. Her voice definitely indicated she wasn’t pleased at the thought.
“Yes. I’ll see you later.”
Ellie looked at Tyrone and smiled. “Yes. Later.”
Jenna shook her head, wondering what had happened to Ellie’s plan to snare Sonny Cahill, since it now seemed she was enamored with Tyrone Wells.
“Ready?”
Randolph’s question intruded into her thoughts. “Yes, I’m ready.”
With his hand curling around her arm, Randolph led Jenna across the room, through the doors and out into the yard.

 
The grounds were well lit as Randolph and Jenna strode along a paved lane that led to several dormitory buildings. They talked about everything, from the Temptations’ newest single, “My Girl,” and how fast it was climbing the charts, to the fact that some white folks had started growing their hair long, hanging big beads around their necks, wearing bell-bottom pants and calling themselves hippies.
Randolph also told Jenna that he had participated in the march on Washington two years earlier and the Selma march earlier that year. “I was there for Bloody Sunday, too,” he said quietly, remembering what had started out as a peaceful demonstration. No sooner had they reached the city line, there had been a posse of Alabama State Troopers waiting for them on Governor Wallace’s orders. The troopers had immediately attacked the crowd who had bowed their heads in prayer, using tear gas and batons and whipping the peaceful demonstrators with no signs of mercy.
“Your parents let you participate?” Jenna asked with keen interest. She had wanted to participate in the march but her parents had not allowed her to, although she knew her father had participated. He had written to her about what had happened and it had been just as Randolph described it. A number of peaceful demonstrators had gotten beaten and jailed.
“Both my parents were killed in a car accident when I was ten. Our paternal grandparents raised Ross and me. My grandfather is a good friend of A. Philip Randolph and he thought it would be a good experience for me and Ross.”
“Your grandfather is friends with A. Philip Randolph?” she asked, making sure she had heard him correctly. Besides Martin Luther King, Jr., Mr. Randolph was one of the most prominent leaders in the fight against segregation, especially in the military and labor forces. He had also been the one to organize the march on Washington two years ago. Jenna had heard her parents speak highly of him on numerous occasions, especially her father, who was now a part of the Teamsters Union because of Mr. Randolph’s fight for fair and equal employment practices.
“Yes. They served in World War Two together. In fact I was named after him.”
They stopped walking when they came to the building where Jenna lived. “You won’t get into trouble for coming in after midnight, will you?”
She smiled. “No. I told our dorm mother that we would be getting back late. She’s usually more lenient on the weekends.”
Randolph nodded. He wasn’t ready to part company with her yet. There was something going on here, something between them that had started from the moment he had laid eyes on her tonight. It was definitely worth exploring since nothing like this had ever happened to him before. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”
Randolph’s question took Jenna by surprise. She hadn’t considered the possibility that he might want to see her again and her heart began beating rapidly at the thought. But another part of her heard her mother’s voice, warning her to be aware of smooth talking guys around school. They were guys who were only out for one thing. She hated to think that Randolph might be that way. She tilted her head and looked up at him. “Why do you ask?”
“I was hoping you would go to the movies with me tomorrow afternoon. James Bond’s new movie, Thunderball, is out and I heard it’s good.”
“I’m going to be busy tomorrow studying,” she responded, playing it safe and feeling awful that she felt she had to.
“What about next weekend? Can we go out then?”
Jenna gazed at him thoughtfully. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
He lifted a bemused brow. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
For the life of her, Jenna couldn’t rightly say at the moment.
A smile came to his lips when she couldn’t provide him with an answer. “I’ll tell you what. How about going to a concert with me two weekends from now?”
“A concert?”
“Yes. The Ramsey Lewis Trio is doing a benefit concert on campus. Would you go with me?”
Jenna hadn’t been to a concert since the free one on campus last year. “Yes,” she said, making a decision.
A huge smile spread across his face. “Good. Can I call you during this week, too?”
She smiled back. “Sure.”
“What’s your phone number?”
As she rattled off the number, he mentally stored it in his head. “Are you going to the game next Saturday?”
“I hadn’t planned on it. I’ll probably be too busy studying.”
He nodded then reached into his pockets and pulled something out. “This is a free pass if you change your mind and decide to come. You can get in as my guest,” he said, handing it to her. When their hands touched he heard her quick intake of breath. He was glad. If being around her was playing hell on his senses he was happy to know that she was suffering that same effect.
“Thank you and thanks for making sure I got home safely.”
“It was my pleasure.” He smiled.
“Good night, Randolph.”
“Good night.”
Quickly turning, Jenna raced up the steps to the building, opened the door and slipped inside.
For a long while after she had gone, Randolph stood watching the closed door.

 
Bronson College, Boston, Massachusetts
“Aren’t you worried about not passing Professor Dunbar’s class?”
Angela Douglass smiled up at a fellow student as they walked together from the library. Already the air was filled with a chill and the weather reports indicated there would be light snow on the ground in the morning. “No, I’m not worried. Professor Dunbar will assign me a tutor before letting me fail.”
“Must be nice to have connections.”
She heard the deep sarcasm in Sandra Sawyer’s voice but chose to ignore it. “It is.” She then glanced at her watch, a present from her parents on her eighteenth birthday two years ago. “I’ve got to run. This is the night Mrs. Hightower is entertaining and I promised her that I would help. See you later.”
Sandra watched Angela until she had disappeared from view, thinking some people had it too easy. Just because Angela was a descendant of Frederick Douglass, everyone treated her like she was a queen. She went to class when she was ready and did half the work and still managed to get good grades, all because her family was close friends with Dean Hightower.
As Sandra crossed the street, heading for her dorm, she thought of how unfair that was.

 
“You did an outstanding job tonight, Angela. The next time I talk to your parents I’m going to let them know just what a big help you were.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hightower.” Whenever she had to deal with Leanne Hightower Angela knew to be on her best behavior. She was well aware that her parents often checked up on her.
“The last time I talked to your mother she said that things were pretty serious between you and that Fuller boy.”
Angela pasted on a smile as she washed the last plate. Tonight the Hightowers had hosted a dinner party for some rich white man named Robert Morgan, who had recently donated a huge sum of money to the all-girl college that she attended. “Yes, ma’am. Everyone is hoping that Ross and I will marry when he graduates. He’s attending Howard Law School.”
The older woman smiled as though impressed. “A Howard law graduate will be a good catch, young lady. Especially one with a good family name. I understand the Fullers are a very respected family in Virginia.” After a while she asked, “I understand he has a brother?”
“Yes, his name is Randolph,” Angela responded to the older woman. And he’s the one I really want and not Ross. And although Ross is the one my parents have selected for me, I will get who I want in the end. She couldn’t help but wonder what it was about Randolph that made her want him so. Her obsession with him had started the first time she had seen him at a birthday party for Massachusetts’ black attorney general Edward Brookes. At the time she hadn’t known that he was Ross’s brother and although he did nothing more than toss a glance in her direction, she had felt a deep yearning inside of her like she had never felt before. She liked the way he walked, the way he talked, the way he looked and the way he carried himself, all self-assured and confident, like he knew exactly what he wanted in life. Ross, although the older of the two, didn’t seemed quite as assured and confident as his younger brother. From that night on she knew without a doubt that Randolph Fuller would be the only man for her and that somehow, some way she would have him. And from that time almost a year ago, she had become more and more obsessed with having him, to the point that she would fantasize about him constantly.
“It’s getting late, Angela; too late for you to walk across campus alone. I’ll have Herbert take you home.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“And you won’t be. Now get your coat while I let him know that you’re ready.”

 

 
Dean Hightower took a few puffs from his pipe as he put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. “Did you get everything?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “I’m sure Leanne appreciated your help tonight.”
Angela smiled. “I didn’t mind. In fact I enjoyed it.”
“What did you think of Mr. Morgan?”
Angela shrugged, thinking of how she had noticed him looking at her a number of times during the evening. “He seemed nice.”
Amusement danced in Dean Hightower’s eyes. “He’s been more than nice by donating a lot of money to the school. It’s money we’ll need to keep things running. Parents aren’t sending their girls to private schools anymore, and I think it’s a sin and a shame. We and Spellman are the only two institutions left for colored girls.”
Angela cringed. She hated it when someone still referred to African-Americans as colored.
A bump in the road snapped her back to the moment and it was then that she noticed Dean Hightower had made a turn down Minger Road. She glanced over at him.
“Leanne expects me to come right back,” he said, bringing the car to a stop and cutting off the engine. “So this can’t take long.”
It will be the first time if it doesn’t, Angela thought.
He was already out of the car and at the passenger side before she could draw her next breath. He opened the door for her. “Come on and sit on the hood. I want it that way.”
She felt heat thicken between her legs when he picked her up and sat her on the hood of his car. Automatically she spread her legs, wondering what Mrs. Hightower would have thought had she known she hadn’t worn any panties tonight.
As she watched Dean Hightower remove his belt and lower his zipper she remembered the first time they had done this, right in the kitchen while Mrs. Hightower took a nap upstairs.
“I wish there was more light out here,” he said, pulling his erection out of his pants. “I love looking at your sex.”
She smiled. That wasn’t all he liked doing to it. He had even tasted it a few times and she wondered if he would do so tonight. She had really liked it.
She watched him hold himself in his hands, thinking that for an old man of forty-five, he was still in good shape. He was big and healthy looking.
“Lie down,” he instructed. He had barely shoved her down on the warm hood when he climbed on top of her. Without wasting any time, he thrust deep inside of her, not bothering with the use of a rubber, knowing she had started taking the pill six months ago.
“I’m flunking English, Dr. Dunbar’s class,” she told him, thinking that now was a good time.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll pass with an A.”
She smiled. He’d said just what she had wanted to hear.
With talk out of the way, he began pumping fast and furious inside of her while holding her in place so she wouldn’t slip and slide all over the freshly waxed surface. To help him along she wrapped her legs around him. Doing that unleashed the oversexed beast within him. He clamped down on her shoulders while he continued to thrust inside of her. Each time he bore his hips down on her he moaned, groaned. He also began murmuring vulgar words about what he was doing to her.
Angela felt herself getting aroused by what he was saying. The ache between her legs throbbed and intensified and his hard, deep thrusts were making it feel better. She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking just how much she enjoyed this. Ross thought she was a virgin. He also thought she was a prim and proper lady because she always carried herself as such around him. If he were to see her now, he would be shocked out of his skin.
“Tell me!”
Dean Hightower’s demand interrupted her thoughts. She opened her eyes. She knew the one word he loved hearing and wanted her to say but she wasn’t ready to say it just yet. Her sex still throbbed and she wanted more.
Her silence made him push deeper, harder, ramming into her, which only aroused her more. She closed her eyes, fantasizing. In her mind, the man having sex with her on the hood of the car was no longer the dean of Bronson College, but the man she wanted, Randolph Fuller. She pretended it was Randolph’s strong fingers that were digging almost painfully into her hips while his sex thrust in and out of her like a lunatic.
She bit her lips to stop from calling out Randolph’s name when she felt herself pulled toward a climax.
“Tell me!” he demanded again.
Yes, Randolph, I’ll tell you anything. When she began shivering toward an orgasm, she uttered the word Dean Hightower wanted to hear that would push him over the edge. “Shoot!”
And he did. As usual that single word fragmented his mind and he shot his semen into the depths of her sex, totally drenching her womb. His snarl of pleasure made her come and she cried out, thankful they were on a road no longer used.
He pushed her thighs wide, taking the word she had shouted literally as he continued to flood her insides. He was loaded with the stuff, and had once told her that once it got backed up inside of him, he couldn’t function properly. She couldn’t help but wonder how many other girls on campus were helping him to relieve himself.
For the longest time they both just lay there, on top of the car, trying to regain their strength. Moments later he slowly lifted his body and his eyes flickered to her face. “Mr. Morgan likes you. I saw how he kept watching you tonight.” He smiled. “I bet he’ll give anything to taste you.”
Angela waited until Dean Hightower had pulled out of her and lowered himself to the ground. She slowly sat up and drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “You mean that he’ll want to … you know?”
Dean Hightower smiled. He knew just how much she enjoyed being tasted. “Yeah. White men prefer doing that sort of thing more than they do sticking it in and shooting off.” He reached out and placed a gentle hand over hers, transforming himself from her lover into the man who was a father figure as well as good friend of her family. “I wouldn’t suggest it to you unless I thought you’d like it. And I think he might give the school additional money if you cooperated. Will you?”
She thought about what he was asking. She had heard stories about white men and their tongues. It was time she found out if what she’d heard was true. “Yeah, I’ll do it if you’re sure it will be for a good cause.”
Dean Hightower’s lips tilted into a smile that reflected both gratitude and appreciation. “It definitely will be for a good cause, Angela.”
She returned his smile. “Then, yes, I’ll do it.”
TIES THAT BIND. Copyright © 2002 by Brenda Streater Jackson.
All rights reserved.
For information, address St. Martin’s Press,
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.