Chapter 9

Wearily she took out the key to the apartment and gently opened the door. Then she stepped inside and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Her sore and aching body twinged with each step and with each movement. The ache and throb between her thighs and at her breasts was a constant reminder of what had happened. With a sigh of despair, she pushed away from the wall and made her way into the darkened living room.

Her eyes adjusted to the gloom, and she became aware of the silhouetted figure sitting mutely in the chair watching her.

"Randy?" she called softly.

His answer was to reach up and turn on the lamp at the side of his chair. The look in his face told her of his disgust and shame.

"I just got a call, Naomi," he told her in a low threatening voice. "A call from three men ... They told me what happened in the library!"

She covered her face with her hands as if to hide from him. But his words tore away the protection.

"Why did you do it? What made you do it, Naomi?" he snapped at her.

She stood there mutely in front of him, unable to answer. Unable to say the words that would make sense to him.

How do I tell him the truth? How do I tell him so that he will understand why I did it? How do I make him believe me!

Randy lashed out at her with angry words when she didn't answer. Words that were designed to hurt and to rip and tear.

"It's true!" he growled. "It's true! You are nothing but a ... a whore! That's the only thing you're good for!"

"No! No!" she sobbed hysterically, throwing herself on her knees at his feet. "Don't say that! Don't say that! Don't say that!"

He wanted to reach out and touch her hair, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was his pride. He leaned back into the chair and lashed her again with his words.

"Then why did you do it! What were you trying to prove? Don't you get enough from me? Don't I satisfy you?"

Naomi lifted her tear-stained face and shouted the words back at him.

"Yes, oh yes! But that's the only way I know. The only way I can ... get acceptance. With my body! At least they want me in bed! At least you want me in bed! Don't you see that? Can't you understand that?"

He looked down at her and studied the acid lines of agony that were etched into the bronzed face, and then he slowly nodded with understanding.

"Don't you see?" she begged with poignant tear-filled eyes. "No one wants me! You can give me money, a beautiful place to live in, lovely clothes and fine jewelry. But that won't get anyone to love me or care about me!"

"Yes, Naomi. I understand. And I care very much about you," he said in low, muted tones.

"No one wants me!" she cried. "All they want is my body. And to have them accept me even on those terms...."

"Naomi," Randy whispered gently. "I understand your feeling, though I know it will never happen that way! You'll never buy acceptance with your body! They will take what you give, then leave you. Those men don't give a damn about you now that they've had their fun!"

The sorrowful expression in her eyes made him agonize for her and he had to force himself to continue to look into her face.

"Why did you leave me there alone?" her voice choked on sobs that would not be stilled. "I was all alone when they came in, when they...."

Randy nodded at her pathetic expression. How could he console her?

"No one loves or wants a black girl," she breathed, looking at the floor. "Naomi," his voice caressed her.

She whirled her face upward to look at him squarely.

"Then what am I going to do!" she demanded, sobbing. "Help me! Please help me!"

But he had no way of helping her, and he knew it. Nothing but time would change people's feelings and their beliefs and attitudes.

His heart went out to the beautiful, golden-skinned girl kneeling helplessly at his feet but there was nothing he could do for her.

What she wanted was normal. What she wanted was right. But he knew he was as helpless to achieve it as she was. And so he ached for her.

Tenderly, he pulled Naomi onto his lap and tried to stroke away the pain with the gentleness and softness of his touch. She buried her face into his shoulder and allowed him to soothe away the ache. They sat there in the darkness and let the warmth of their feelings for each other wrap and protect them in the cotton batting of togetherness. And it wasn't until the first fingers of dawn poked into the room that Naomi stirred.

Lifting her face from his shoulder, she pleaded desperately, "Love me, Randy. Please love me!"

There was a hungry longing in her tone, and he knew that she was achingly lonely, searching for that oasis of being wanted.

With a soft cry, his mouth pressed gently against hers and their lips rocked in a tender kiss. Moments passed and the moisture of their tongues began to wash sensation into their feelings.

She pressed her body to his, and his hands clasped the warm softness of her breasts. The moment of hurt passed when the demanding need within her made her crush deeper into his hands-deeper into the soothing, gentle tenderness of his love.