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Authors: Brenda Jackson

BOOK: Ties That Bind
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“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.”
Howard University
“Aren't you going to tell me about last night?”
Jenna lifted her head from her book and looked across the room at Ellie. “What is it you want to know?” she asked dryly. She really did need to study. Tomorrow's test would cover an entire segment on the Revolutionary War.
“Everything.”
“I don't have time to tell you everything, Ellie, I'm trying to study. Can you be more specific?”
With a definite frown on her face Ellie crossed the room and dropped down on the floor in front of Jenna. “I want to know about Randolph Fuller. You do know who he is, don't you?”
“Yes, he's a nice guy I met last night and who walked me home,” Jenna replied, hoping that would be the end of the conversation but somehow knowing it wouldn't be. Ellie was interested in her love life or lack thereof.
“Randolph comes from a family of prominent attorneys. I understand his grandfather once dated Josephine Baker and is good friends with A. Philip Randolph.”
“Umm,” Jenna said disinterestedly, returning her attention to her book.
Ellie became annoyed. “Doesn't that mean anything to you?”
Jenna looked back up at Ellie. “No. I don't measure a person's worth by his family or his family connections. I thought Randolph was a nice person and appreciated him seeing me home safely. He was a gentleman to do it. That's all there was to it.”
“Are you saying you aren't seeing him again?”
Jenna thought about the football pass in her dresser drawer as well as their plans to attend the concert together. “Possibly. I don't want anything or anyone to take my mind off school work.” And she knew Randolph could certainly do that. He was doing so already. She had awakened that morning thinking about him, and that thought made her a bit uneasy. Her main focus was finishing up at Howard and going back home to open her own business. Then she would be able to help her parents send her three younger brothers to college. All three had dreams of attending Morehouse.
“Well, I wouldn't put too much stock in anything developing between you and Randolph anyway if I were you.”
Jenna met Ellie's gaze, wondering why she would say that with such confidence and certainty. “I hadn't planned on doing so but I'm curious as to why you would say something like that.”
Ellie shrugged. “You and Randolph don't fit. His grandmother is on the board here and I've seen her a few times at various functions on campus. She's one of those women who're the epitome of style, grace and elegance. I heard she's handpicked Randolph's brother's girlfriend, who is a direct descendant of Frederick Douglass. She intends for them to marry when he finishes law school. The girl goes to some private all-girl college in Boston.”
Ellie stretched out on the floor as she continued talking. “The reason Randolph was never on my list of eligible men is because his grandmother will probably pick out his future wife as well. And not to sound mean or anything, but I doubt you have a chance. Rumor has it she's looking at Lena Weaver.”
Jenna didn't have to ask who Lena Weaver was. She was a stunning-looking girl; a senior on campus. Her grand-uncle, Robert C. Weaver, was rumored as being President Johnson's top pick for secretary of Housing and Urban Development, a new cabinet position that been
added that year. If Johnson chose him for the position, it would make him the first black cabinet official in U.S. history.
“So if you're interested in Randolph, you're only wasting your time.”
Jenna snapped her book closed, bothered by what Ellie had said and not wanting to hear anything about Randolph any longer. “I think I'll go down to the Blackburn Center and finish reading,” she said quietly.
Ellie stared up at her. “I hope you don't think I'm being cruel by telling you this, Jenna, but I wouldn't want you to be hurt by Randolph.”
As Jenna grabbed her sweater and headed for the door, a part of her thought that she was already hurt, just a little. She had thought Randolph was different. Last night he'd acted like he was interested in her and all along he already had his future wife picked out for him. Her mother had been right. You had to be aware of smooth talking guys.
 
The next afternoon Jenna sat on the bench in the park near campus studying the designs of the buildings she saw, jotting down information about each for her Architectural History and Theory class. As she glanced at the Washington Monument that loomed in the distance, she thought the nation's capital was such a beautiful city. You could scarcely look anywhere and not see some historical building or landmark. Where most cities had skyscraper buildings that jutted discordantly into the sky, what you got in DC was a scene that resembled a rural theme park, complete with grassy fields and large reflecting pools of water.
After finishing what she was doing, Jenna packed everything into her tote bag and began walking back toward campus. She thanked her lucky stars Ellie hadn't been there when she'd gone to her dorm room after class earlier. Ellie had been spending a lot of time with Tyrone since Saturday night. He had come around yesterday afternoon to take her to a movie, and from what Leigh had said, he had shown up again today to take Ellie to the library so they could study together. The thought of Ellie studying was almost comical.
“Is he the one she's selected for her husband?” Leigh had asked,
grinning when they had seen each other earlier that day. “Maybe she'll get so wrapped up in him that she'll stay out of our business.”
Jenna doubted that, but she had kept her thoughts to herself since she knew how Leigh felt about Ellie.
She had just reached the Aldridge Theater when she saw Randolph and Lena Weaver walking together on their way to class. Jenna's grip tightened on her tote bag. At first she hadn't wanted to believe Ellie's allegations, but now she was seeing Randolph with Lena with her own eyes. She inhaled deeply, thankful they hadn't seen her. Feeling the need to walk off her hurt and disappointment, Jenna headed in the opposite direction, not ready to go to her dorm yet.
 
It was late afternoon when Jenna opened the door to her room just in time to hear the phone ringing. The private telephone in their room was a luxury that she, Leigh and Ellie had agreed to chip in and pay for for the convenience of not having to use the public one down the hall. She quickly crossed the room and picked it up, thinking it was probably Noah calling for Leigh. “Hello.”
“May I speak to Jenna, please?”
Jenna frowned, recognizing the deep, masculine voice immediately. “This is Jenna.”
“Jenna, this is Randolph.”
“Yes, I know,” she said, wanting to add,
And I know you have a girlfriend, so why are you calling me? I saw the two of you together.
“How did you do on your test today?”
“I think I did all right. Thanks for asking.”
Resist him!
her mind screamed.
Tell him good-bye and hang up
! it screamed again.
Tell him that you know what game he's playing and you don't want to be a part of it.
“I forgot to ask what time you wanted me to pick you up for the concert next weekend.”
Jenna swallowed. She had forgotten about their plans for the concert. “I've changed my mind about going. Maybe it will be a good idea for you to ask your girlfriend.”
“My girlfriend?”
“Yes, your girlfriend, Lena Weaver.”
There was a slight pause then he said. “Lena is not my girlfriend. We're just friends.”
“Yeah, right. Look, I'm sort of busy right now. It was nice talking to you.” And with that closing statement she hung up, thinking he probably wouldn't ever call her again.
 
“So, you got short with Randolph Fuller because of what Ellie said?” When Jenna didn't respond quickly enough to suit her, Leigh Murdock continued. “When are you going to learn not to take Ellie's word as gospel? Most of the time she doesn't know what she's talking about, Jenna.”
Jenna took a sip of her Coke. “But this time she did. I saw Randolph and Lena, Leigh. They were walking on campus together,” she said with a sad smile.
, “Is that all? Noah walks to class with a lot of girls and they mean nothing to him.”
“Well, it really doesn't matter.”
Leigh reached out and captured Jenna's hand in hers. “Try telling that to someone else, Jen. We've been roommates for over two years and I can tell when something really matters to you.”
Jenna knew Leigh was right. “Okay, it does matter,” she confessed moments later with a shy smile. “I kind of liked him.”
“And you should. He's a nice guy.”
Jenna lifted her brow. “You know him?”
“Not personally but I've heard nice things about him. Noah and Randolph's brother, Ross, are best friends and share a house off campus. And from what I understand, Randolph isn't going with Lena Weaver, so he wasn't trying to pull a fast one over on you.”
Jenna's conversation with Leigh stayed in her mind as she got ready for bed later that night. She couldn't sleep, since she couldn't stop thinking about Randolph Fuller.
Moments later when she finally drifted off, her mind was still filled with thoughts of the guy with dark eyes and warm smile who had walked her home from the party on Saturday night.
 
 
Two days later Jenna glanced across the length of the Founders Library and saw Randolph at the exact same moment that he saw her. She suddenly remembered their last conversation and how short she'd been with him and wondered if he would simply ignore her.
Then it occurred to her that he couldn't ignore her any more than she could him. That same attraction that had brought them together Saturday night was pulling at them again with an intensity that almost scared her. A shudder rippled through her with his intense stare and a purely feminine unease settled deep within her when he began walking toward where she sat. Her heart skipped a beat when he stood before her table.
“Hi, Jenna,” he said, smiling warmly at her. He was also looking deep into her eyes and the sheer power of his gaze made her tremble inside.
“Hi.” She didn't know what else to say.
He glanced around and saw the librarian looking at them, to make sure they kept it quiet. He met her gaze again. “Is there someplace where we can go talk?”
His voice was deep and throaty. It was also gentle, she thought, looking back at him. “Uh, sure.”
After she gathered her things, they walked outside. Jenna was grateful she had brought her sweater. The weather had turned chilly since she had entered the library a few hours ago. For a few minutes they didn't say anything to each other, they just continued walking. She was letting him take the lead and wondered just where they were headed.
“You been doing okay?” he asked her moments later.
“Yes. What about you?”
“I've been doing fine. I'm just ready for this semester to be over.”
She couldn't help but smile. “It just started last month.”
He laughed. “Yes, I know.”
When they got to the Blackburn Center he held the door open for her. “I thought we could sit and eat something while we talk. You don't mind, do you?”
She shook her head. “No, I don't mind.”
“Good. It will be my treat.”
“You don't have to do that. I can pay for my own.”
“I want to. Please let me.”
She met his gaze and nodded. “All right.”
They got a table near the jukebox and then he asked what she wanted.
“A hamburger and a milkshake.”
“What flavor?”
“Strawberry.”
He nodded. “Will you share an order of fries with me?”
She smiled, knowing he was teasing her a little. He was doing the very thing he had set out to do from the first. Take her out. Anyone who saw them together sitting at the same table, sharing a meal, would assume they were dating or something.
Before walking off he moved to the jukebox and selected a couple of songs. Her breath caught when “In the Midnight Hour” began playing. It was the song that had been playing the moment they had noticed each other in the yard Saturday night. She knew he had played it deliberately to make her think about that night. And she was thinking about it as she glanced around. There were a number of couples sharing food and talking. There were also people alone, sitting at tables studying. Usually she was one of them. But not today. Randolph had seen to that.
Moments later he returned with their food. After he had spread everything out in front of them, and after taking a sip of her milkshake, she asked. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

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