Taming of Jessi Rose (38 page)

“Right now?” She turned to look up at him.

“Sure, why not? Didn't you set down a challenge a few weeks ago?”

“Well, yes I did, but this is our wedding night. I assumed you'd be more interested in stripping me naked and making me do shameless things?”

“Oh, don't worry, that's coming, but right now, I want to play marbles.”

“Where?”

“Right here.”

“But marbles won't hold on this smooth wood floor.”

“You're right, so we'll use this.”

He gestured to the rug under their feet. Jessi looked down at the circle and grinned. “You've thought of everything, haven't you?”

“Just about. So how about it? I figured if we play in
here behind closed doors, we won't have to chance you being seen crawling around half naked.”

She had no idea where he might be headed with this snare, but she took the bait anyway and let herself be reeled in. “Why am I going to be crawling around half naked?”

“Because, my very sweet wife, that is what we will be playing for—your clothing.”

“My clothing?”

“Yep. Every marble I win, wins me one article of clothing.”

His eyes were ablaze with such brazen promise, her desire blossomed to life. “And what about your clothes? Will my boon be the same?”

“Yes, but since you aren't going to win any marbles, it isn't going to matter.”

“Griffin Blake, you are the most arrogant man I've ever met.”

“And I can't wait to see you crawling around dressed in nothing but your drawers, Mrs. Blake.”

He was right. Jessi didn't win a single marble. She lost her beautiful emerald dress first and then the chemise underneath. As the game continued she forfeited her camisole, stockings, garters, and shoes. Jessi Rose Clayton Blake, who at the age of ten could whip any boy around at marbles, was now crawling around the rug dressed in nothing but her drawers and the new gold circlets in her ears as she tried to set up her very last shot.

Griffin of course was still fully dressed. He'd opened a button on his fancy shirt only because he'd grown so warm watching her add to the growing pile of clothing at his side. When she lost her camisole, he'd consoled her by suckling her softly until her breath stacked up in her throat and then let her take her turn again. Throughout the game, he touched her, stroked her, and kissed
her until they were both bursting with need. Griffin had indeed stripped her and now with the last shot about to be played, the time had come to make her do shameless things.

Jessi didn't know why she was trying to concentrate on this last shot. Each and every time she'd lost a marble he'd removed a piece of her clothing with wandering hands and tantalizing kisses. Because of that she couldn't concentrate—hell, she could barely see. He'd left her throbbing everywhere.

Her last shot went wildly astray. The game was over.

“Stand up,” he whispered thickly.

She got to her feet slowly and stood in a passion-induced haze while he took her last piece of clothing, her drawers. He then proceeded to boldly show her that maybe losing to him wasn't so bad after all. He carried her to the bed and neither of them went to sleep until dawn.

The next morning, Jessi was still asleep when the nude Griffin came charging into the room yelling, “I'm going to kill them with my bare hands!”

After such a prolonged night of marital passion, Jessi had trouble trying to discern what he was bellowing about.

“Read this!”

Still half asleep, she almost asked if it was really necessary to comply with his request, but she pushed the covers aside and took the piece of paper from his adamant hand.

She read:

She looked up from the note and into her husband's blazing eyes. “Well, darling, you said yourself you
didn't expect them to stay. I admit, they took off a lot faster than either of us thought, but—”

“Read on.”

“Okay.” Jessi read on:

Jessi's eyes widened.

It was signed
Neil July and Two Shafts
.

Jessi set the note aside. She could see that her irate husband found no humor in the note at all, but she did and began to laugh.

“This isn't funny, Jessi.”

“Oh, it is too, and you know it. They're tricksters, you said so yourself.”

“Damn those Twins.”

“They are terrible, aren't they?” Jessi added, unable to suppress her chuckling. She'd no idea what Griffin had planned for the money, but now it didn't matter.

Griff grinned and shook his head. “Guess I'll have to wire Dix and tell him they're on the loose again.”

Jessi smiled. “Guess so.”

She missed the Twins already and hoped they would come back to visit real soon. “You aren't going to town right now, are you?”

The sassy look in her eyes made him ask, “Why, do you have something more interesting in mind?”

Feeling quite brazen after last night, Jessi Rose Blake
slid the covering off her nude, sleep-warmed body and said, “Maybe. If you're up to it.”

Griff grinned, “Oh, I'm up to it as you can see.”

Jessi gave him a grin in reply.

Later, as completion sent them both soaring into love's heaven, Jessi knew Griffin would always be her light, and that she'd never have to walk in darkness again.

I
do hope you enjoyed reading
The Taming of Jessi Rose
and the historical information surrounding the contributions of pioneering African-American Texans. If all of the mail I received after the 1997 publication of
Topaz
, my fifth book from Avon Books, is any indication, westerns seem to be a particular fan favorite, so thanks for all the feedback and encouragement. One of the most interesting geographical facts I learned while researching this book had to do with the sheer size of the original Republic of Texas. It encompassed over 100,000 square miles, and included parts of what are now New Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas, Wyoming, and Colorado!

As always, I'm passing along a list of books for those of you wishing more information on the historical aspects highlighted in Jessi and Griffin's story.
Knowledge is power, but shared knowledge empowers us all
!

 

Patterson, Richard.
Train Robbery
. Johnson Publishing. Boulder, Colorado. 1981.

Durham, Philip, and Everett L. Jones.
Negro Cowboys
. University of Nebraska Press. Lincoln. 1965.

Love, Nat.
The Life and Adventures of Nat Love
. Black Classic Press. Baltimore, Maryland. 1988.

Williams, David A.
Bricks Without Straw: A Comprehensive History of African-Americans in Texas
. Eakin Press. Austin, Texas. 1997.

Texas: A Guide to the Lone Star State
. American Guide Series. Hastings House. New York. 1940.

Katz, William Loren.
Black West
. Anchor Books. Garden City, New York. 1973.

Brown, Dee.
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee
. Henry Holt and Company. New York. 1991.

Burton, Arthur T.
Black Red and Deadly
. Eakin Press. Austin, Texas. 1991.

 

In closing, let me give a shout out to all of you who've taken the time to write me this past year. If you've not received a reply, please know that due to the volume of mail I'm receiving it's becoming increasingly harder to answer each of you individually, but I do read and keep each and every piece, so keep them coming. I would also like to thank the following individuals for keeping my feet on the path: Lucia Macro; Monique Patterson; N. Yost; Rochelle Hardy, aka The First Fan; Ladies in Line and the members of the Beverly Jenkins Fan Club; Felicia Wintons, owner of Books for Thought and bookseller extraordinaire; all of the bookclubs nationwide who've invited me to their meetings or featured my books on their lists; the ladies of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, for their support during their national convention in New Orleans; Shirley Covington in Greensboro;
and G.O. in Chicago; and of course, my family. Until next time.

 

Peace,