Cornbread & Caviar (6 page)

* * * * *

Once in my room, I lie on the bed and wallow in the circumstances. How could Hilton's father have been so cruel as to keep such an important secret? Although I know the reason, he could have arranged a buy out of some sort.

Now, Tory can get his treatments and Mama can pay her debt to Spider. Though I didn't know what my share is worth, I'm sure I can buy Casey out, and then fire him, if I want to. While I think on all these possibilities, something horrible dawns on me.

Due to Hilton Maxwell's honesty, he's destroying his own home. I'm positive black people don't live in Sherwood Estates. However, Hilton can buy me out. That way, he can keep his estate, and I can move on with my life. But wouldn't life be grand if Hilton and I could share the home as husband and wife? I can't deny I have strong feelings for him.

Chapter Thirteen

Hearing a knock on the door, I roll over and get to my feet. I pad softly to the door, knowing that Hilton is on the other side. After opening the door, I sit on the side of the bed, my hands placed neatly in my lap.

Hilton removes his coat and loosens his tie, then he moves slowly toward me. He lifts my chin. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm just confused." I reach for his hand. "I appreciate your honesty. You could have kept your mouth shut, and we would have never known a thing."
"That is true," he says, sitting down beside me.
"Did you know Tory is sick."
Hilton shrugs. "Honesty, I didn't. I found out about Tory's illness the night of the auction."
I look at my fingers. "Then you had no idea?"
"No." He whispers. "But I realized I needed to help you while I unraveled the estate."
Searching his ice blue eyes, behind rimless glasses I say, "Thank you."
Hilton squeezes my hand. "Randi, whatever you decide to do is going to impact the entire Maxwell estate."
"I know," I reply, sighing quietly.
"I have an obligation to you." Physically, Hilton is closing in on my space.
Indiscreetly moving over, I ask, "How do you feel about this?"
Hilton shrugs. "I'm willing to share. That's why I watched you for so long. You're hardworking and tough."
Tears stood in my eyes. "Hilton, give me time to process all of this." I avert my gaze and rub my shoulders. "It's just too much, too soon."
"I know," he whispers, sweeping a curl from my face.
"You're making me nervous," I say, pulling the curl from his grasp.
"I'm sorry, Randi. I've had time to weigh my options. I stand to lose a lot, but right now the heat of the moment has me mesmerized."
A smoldering look in his eyes says he has more than important papers on his mind. "Are you trying to come on to me?"
"Yes." He brushes my cheek with his lips.
"Why?" I ask, moving from his lips. "I thought you hated prostitutes."
Hilton chuckles. "Randi, you're hardly a prostitute. I promise, if you make love to me, nothing will change regarding the estate."
Mr. Maxwell is causing quite a chemical change in my system, but I still own the will to push him away. "This is not a good idea."
"Sure, I understand." Hilton takes his hand and pushes hard against his growing member. "I've rarely been turned away."
"So, do you consider me a challenge?" I push against his broad chest. "Have you ever made love to a black woman before?"
"To answer your question, yes. But, my attraction for you goes much deeper."
"How?" I ask.
Hilton places his lips near mine and I push him away. Impervious to my rejection, he continues to talk. "Those pictures of your great grandmother are all over my home. As a young boy, I would gaze into her dark, mysterious eyes and wonder what my great grandfather saw in her. Now, I know."
Placing my hand over my mouth, I stifle a giggle. "You did what?"
"Simple. I fell in love with a beautiful painting. And now, that painting has come to life."
I have heard some weird things before, but I can hardly fathom what Hilton is saying. "Paintings of
my
great grandmother."
"I have a fetish—much like my great grandfather. I love beautiful black women."
"You-are-kidding-me."
"No, when I saw you, it was like someone took a key and unlocked my soul." He gestures toward his heart. "Suddenly, I came alive with desire."
In a dead tone, I ask, "So, you only want to hump me?"
Hilton bursts into laughter. "No, sweetheart. I don't want to
hump
you. I want you in my life. I know you don't know me very well, but I know you. I've studied you for months, although I didn't know little Tory is sick. His father is Boogie Washington, which is really his legal name."
Now, I'm laughing. "I had no idea."
Hilton closes in on me. "I know your birthday, your shoe size, your likes and dislikes, and I know your real father."
"My real father," I ask, bulging my eyes with amazement.
"Yes, we checked out all heirs. He's very old now, and quite feeble, I might add." "That is true. He's quite a bit older than my mother."
"Now, Randi, grant me this one wish. Things might change when we leave this room, but right now, grant my one fantasy." Hilton kisses my eyelids. "And I'll never bother you again. Nor will we discuss it, ever."
"Our little secret." I gaze into his striking, soft blue eyes.
"Our little secret." He crosses his heart. "You're wealthy now. There's no need to earn money. You can walk away, but I beg you not to." He kisses the curve of my ear. "Let me lay with you, just one time."
"Protection?"
"Only the finest." Immediately, Hilton removes his glasses and tosses his shirt upon a chair.
What we want is consensual. He unfastens the top of his slacks. I'm curious and speechless. I can't pass up an opportunity to make love to Hilton Maxwell.
Here is a man who can have any woman in this world. He's untouchable to most, yet he wants me, a young black woman from Dutton.
Hilton unzips my sundress; it separates in the rear, leaving the shoulder straps in place. Taking his fingers, he pulls the thin straps away from my shoulders. His breath quickens at the very thought of what lay beneath.
Hilton's tenderness is melting my cold heart. As if I'm a queen, and he, a gallant knight, he honors every act as a sacred ritual. When I let Hilton have his way, it isn't because of
who
he is; rather, it's because he's intriguing and terribly meticulous. There is no doubt, I will be satisfied.
He pulls the braless dress downward, and my breasts feel abandoned, cold, waiting for the warmth of his touch. Once they're displayed, the caramel rosettes grow taut under his scrutiny. He cuddles their firmness, closes his eyes, and inhales their perfume.
Without warning, he presses his sweet lips to my breasts, flicking his tongue eagerly over my ripened buds. I cup my breasts in my hands, stroking my tips against his cheeks and mouth. With mouth agape, he trails after them, fighting to suckle, to hide my swollen tips in the deep recesses of his warm mouth.
Placing his forehead against mine, Hilton slants his face and connects with my lips. My soul cries out as he seeks the sweetness of my nectar. Inside my mouth, his tongue caresses me. Moans of delight escape us, our union drawing passions of extreme delight. When we part Hilton kisses the light juices around my tender lips with a familiar tease.
After Hilton abandons my lips, he gently places me upon the plush comforter, then places my feet upon the bed. Once he has me positioned, he gets on his knees astride my body. With strong, warm hands, he caresses me from my belly downward, with firm strokes. His expert moves rush reinforcements toward my hidden treasure.
With desire almost at peak, my body prepares to fight anything that hinders its urgent need to release. Glowing with anticipation, I feel creamy, his firm, slow, movements nearly bringing me to ruins.
Powerful hands remove the satin covering that separates us, and he tosses my panties absently aside. His eyes widen with excitement, his nostrils flare at the sight of my passion engorged cunt. Studiously, he examines me. Using two fingers, he gently pinches my sensitive clit. Immediately, it flinches, throbbing angrily, irritated by his insistent prodding. My body quivers with involuntary shudders begging to be released.
While on his treasure hunt, Hilton discovers juices, lush, sweet, ripe, overflowing from my swollen fountain. "Mmm," he moans. He closes his eyes and dips his head to drink eagerly. A soft whimper erupts from my being. I close my eyes and enjoy the fruits of his labor. While his lips masterfully nibble at my fleshy folds, pleasure sensors are awakened, trembling with currents of ecstasy.
Blissful waves of paradise are unlocked, set free. My cries are hushed beneath the kindness of his soft lips, only too late. Roaring waves crash against the walls of my cavern, cleaning them with the purest of all fluids.
Knowing the consequences of his labor, he hastily cleans the spoils of his valiant conquest. "If you only knew how much this means to me," he whispers. "Just look at you, glowing, trembling. I can hardly contain myself."
He disrobes and joins me in bed. After shrouding himself in protection, he turns onto his back. "I want you to sit here."
When I see what he wants me to sit on, I'm reluctant. "Where the hell do you intend to put that?"
Hilton's smile becomes a sarcastic grin. "What?"
"Hilton. That's much too large for normal sex." I draw back in disgust. "I can't do this."
"Randi, I need you so much." He seems so helpless.
Getting astride Hilton, I try to ease upon the massive rock. Although my ripened core is willing, I doubt I can take the entire package. I shake my head. "I can't do this."
"Sweetheart"—Hilton points to the massive structure—"it isn't that large."
I grab his member and place my hand around the base; my fingers don't meet. "Hilton! That's at least ten inches, and the head is as large as a small apple."
He chuckles and ignores my complaint. "Make love to me."
"No, seriously, no. I don't think I can." I shake my head again.
"I promise I'll hold back. I promise." He turns his palms upward as if pleading. "I won't hurt you."
Hilton has been kind to me, and I want to make love to him, but I can't imagine satisfying his needs.
"I can't." Humiliated by my task, I lower my eyes. "I don't know what to do with something like that."
"You're doing fine," he says. "Your body can accommodate me. It's designed to accommodate something much larger."
Frowning, I slug Hilton in the chest. "You're talking about giving birth, fool."
Getting out of bed, I stare at his cock.
"No way." I walk to the foot of the bed and eye the monstrosity from a different angle. "I've heard about guys like you."
Hilton strokes himself. "I imagine you're probably nice and tight."
"And I intend to stay that way," I reply. "I'm sorry, I can't help you."
Hilton becomes visibly upset. "So, you're just going to give up?"
"Yes." I raise both brows and fold my arms. "You're ruptured or something. Did you take some of that stuff to make you look like that?"
Hilton rolls over on his side. "I don't need stuff," he says, slightly aggravated.
I get in the bed beside him. "I'm sorry. I admit I have feelings growing for you, but I must draw the line."
Hilton seems disappointed; he rolls onto his back and folds his arms, and the enormous statue stands firm.
Then, I beam. "I have another idea," I say, getting out of bed.
That morning, I fulfill Hilton Maxwell’s fantasy, but not in the conventional way. Taking complete control of his cock, I place my lips over his shaft. His cries are my roadmap to his ecstasy, and guide my every move. Like a seasoned whore, I milk him to a fiery victory. From the grin on his contorted face, I can tell he's utterly satisfied.

Chapter Fourteen

After a few days in New York, my life changes forever. The ride back to Dutton is splendid and simply magical. As we sit adjacent each other on the plane, I catch Hilton staring at my profile. Being Randi, I call it to his attention. "You're staring at me, aren't you?"

"I'm not sure," he lies. "I think the window beside you lacks the proper care." "Oh." I moisten my lips. "Then you don't want to kiss me?"
Hilton becomes silent and turns his head. "Should we discuss our feelings now?"

he says softly.

"Feelings, Hilton." I take a sip of my Coke as he turns to face me. "We hardly know each other."
Hilton raises his glass of Coke as a toast. "I think I know
you
much better."
When I turn my head again, I catch him staring. "There
is
something wrong," I say. "Just give it to me straight."
"No, no." He shakes his head, brushing imaginary lint from his trousers. "Everything's perfectly all right."
There is a peaceful glint in his eyes. His body seems totally relaxed as he smiles to himself.

* * * * *

When we land, instead of Hilton taking me home, our first stop is the Maxwell Estate. This time, I'm on the other side of a bad situation. Hilton walks me toward the living room and offers me refreshments.

"You may have anything you wish," he tells me. "Hobbs can whip up a snack for you."
"No, thank you. After what we've eaten, I think I'll be full for days."
"Please be seated. I'll be back directly. I've an urgent matter that demands my attention."
I sit blinking. "You've gotta pee, huh?"
"Yes." He chuckles. "I do need to, pee, as you call it. All this time, I've called it urination, but pee sounds appropriate. Yes, I've got to pee."
Hobbs walks in the room while Hilton grins broadly. "Hobbs, my good man." He slaps him on the back, playfully. "Give this lady anything she wishes. I've gotta pee."
Hobbs stretches his eyes and his brows knit a frown. "Yes, sir." He shoots me a fiery glance, then walks away.
Immediately, I feel bitterness emanating from Hobbs' thoughts.
As I take in my surroundings, my heart quivers in my chest. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine standing in the Maxwell Mansion talking business with Hilton.
Beholding the simple elegance of the home, I sigh. Extravagant treasures, antiques, and costly paintings are displayed tastefully.
Within minutes, Hilton returns. "Now that I've finished my regiment, I'd like to show you around."
"I'd love that. Mama and Tory were here this weekend, right?"
"Yes." He extends his arm. "I'll show you the nursery first."
"Fantastic." Hoping Mama has not stolen anything, I stood up, then placed my arm inside his.
On our way to the nursery, Hilton shows me his prized possessions. Of those possessions, my grandmother's portraits are among his favorite items.
"And this is one of my most favorite paintings." He points to a picture of my great grandmother. She's dressed in riding gear and sitting on a black stallion. "Ah, she looks so regal, does she not? Can you also ride a horse?"
I place my finger thoughtfully to my forehead. "I probably could, if given the opportunity.”For some strange reason, I've always been fond of horses."
"It's in your blood, Randi. Your great grandmother was a superb rider."
While I soak up this information, Hilton opens another door. "This is my room. I'm very proud of the décor."
I step ahead of him, anxious to see his surroundings. "Please excuse me, but I must see this."
When I step inside, I notice that the evening sun illuminates the large room through a window. There's rich mahogany furniture, with royal blues and soft hues of lighter blues.
However, Hilton is not particularly interested in showing me his room. Immediately, he pins me against the closed door with the weight of his body. Shoving his hands into my palms, he lifts my hands and holds me captive against the door. Astonished, I widen my eyes, unsure of his intensions.
"This is out of character for me, but I must try. At the hotel, I asked you to grant my wildest fantasy, and you did. Would I be asking too much, if I have you once more?"
My heart thumps. His stare is intense, and I feel anxious. "This behavior is not in our contract," I manage to say.
"I know, I know." He releases my hands. "But I can't seem to control my urges." He places his palm against the side of his face and runs his fingertips over his mouth. "I'm frustrated as hell! What's happening to me?"
"I don't know," I whisper, moving from his grasp.
Running his fingers through his hair, he contorts his face. "When I'm not with you, I'm thinking about being with you. And when I'm with you, I'm thinking about, when I'll next see you again."
I shoot him a look and then pause. Terror electrifies my being. "Oh my God, Hilton." Walking into his arms I ask, "What's happening to us? I'm feeling that very same way. I was afraid to tell you earlier."
Hilton closes his arms around me. "Damn you, Randi, I'm not ashamed. I want you."
Pulling back from his grasp, I say, "This is too sudden, you know that, right?"
Hilton tosses his head with aggravation. "Hell. My affections are controlling my behavior. For the last few days, I've felt like never before. It's as if you've torn down some sort of wall. You're fresh. You make me laugh. I can't seem to get enough of you."
I cup his face in my hands, then placed my lips near his. Searching his eyes, I ask, "Is this real, Hilton? What's happening to us?"
"It's real, Randi." He nods as I place my arms around his waist. "And yet, I feel strangely liberated. It must be a curse of some sort." He leaves the warmth of my arms. "Am I a reincarnation of my great grandfather?" He turns abruptly. "And you? Are you the mysterious Pearl coming back to haunt me?"
I mirror his eyes and shake my head. "Do you understand what you're saying?"
"Randi, something or someone has taken over my soul. I feel nothing but utter love for you, and I shouldn't."
"Is that so bad?" I ask, urgently.
"No." He shakes his head. "But it's too sudden." Hilton walks toward the window. "Please understand, Randi. It's as if nothing else existed until you walked into my life. Then, I woke up. My heart starts racing when I see you. Going by Casey's was becoming a habit for me."
I turn him around and place my fingertips to his lips, but he pulls away.
"Don't stop me, Randi. This is something I need to say." Hilton grasps my hands in his. "I would have given you ten million dollars if you needed it."
I part my lips and my breathing grows shallow. "Oh, my God."
Hilton kisses my forehead. "Take everything that I have. You can have it all, as long as I have you."
"You're doing drugs, aren't you?" I back away from his unfounded insanity.
"No. No, I haven't. I've walked around this place with a surly demeanor for years. I let Satin have her little playhouse to honor the written wishes of my father. I never wanted that vile trash in my home." He softens his voice. "No, no. Something was missing from my life, and that something—that someone—Randi Ranes, is you."