Southern Helle (An Interracial Romance Story)

Chapter 3

A week later, I walked up the stairs with a basket of clean laundry in tow. I stopped in Master Belle’s room, to put his laundry in dresser.

His room is quite big. I mean it was the Master’s bedroom. The king sized bed sat in the middle of the room, 7 wardrobes all with mix- and matched color finishes. A desk for reading or whatever was needed. I don’t know why he thought he needed a desk up here when he has a whole study for reading. 

This reminds me, I need to return Master’s book.

I taught myself how to read using Master Belle’s books. That’s why I can speak and tell this story so eloquently. Reading helps pass the time from when I’m supposed to be in bed sleeping and the moonlight keeps me up, which is pretty much every night. My favorite book so far is Pride and Prejudice. 

I placed Master Belle’s clothes in the wardrobes and then continued to August’s room. I opened the door thinking he was downstairs, but he wasn’t. He was sitting on his bed, shirtless, writing in a little brown leather covered book. 

“Oh, I’m sorry August. I’ll come back later.” I told him as I started to back out the door.

“No, it’s okay, Helle.” He approved. I opened back the door and entered his room. It was much smaller than Master Belle’s room, but enough for August. 

I crossed the room and opened the drawer. I started packing the clothes in the drawer. 

“So Helle, tell me something.” August said. I put in the last of shirt and then turned around to face him. He still was shirtless, but his book was closed around his index finger. 

“What?” I questioned.

“Why do you always listen to my dad? I mean, not everything he says is correct.”  I raised my left eyebrow at him.

“I know that, but he’s the boss. I don’t know if you’ve had your head stuck up your ass for the past 20 years, but I’m below you. I must listen to everything he says.” I explained. He got of his bed. His muscles rippled under his milky skin. 

He crossed the room to me until he was centimeters away. I could feel his cool breath skate against my scalp. Every time he inhaled his pecks stroked against my chest. My breaths became shallow.

He cocked his head to the left and then tilted it down so we looked into each other’s eyes. “Rebel, it’ll be fun.” He suggested. 

“Not when I get whipped.” I returned. 

“Don’t worry,” He whispered. He placed his hand under my chin. “I’ll protect you.”

He leaned down and captured my lips with his caressing my brownish, red full lips with his thin pink lips. 

I jerked my head back and pushed him away from me. My eyes widened with horror. I picked up the basket and rushed over to the door. I opened it slightly and then looked back at him. His piercing blue eyes looked at me hopefully. 

I touched my lips where his lips were just a second ago. I scurried out of the room quickly.

I jogged down the stairs not really aware of the salty streams of liquid running down my face. I ran out the back of house and dropped the clothes basket by the back door.

I sprinted through the field of unruly bluegrass. To the west, the sun was setting painting the sky in all these warm pinks and oranges. I plopped down in the grass and held my head in hands. The salt water kept going and going. 

All I could think of was the amount of whips I would get if anyone found out about what August did. They probably wouldn’t even go that easy on me because August is the master’s son.