Jarvis forced himself to repress a grin and said sternly, "Brutus! What on earth have you been up to! Slacking on the job again?"

"Uh, no, Mister Jarvis, sir. I-I been tawking with Dahlia here about something," Brutus stammered lamely.

"Uh huh, I'll bet you have! Well, soon as you get your pants up, take care of Marmaduke, now, you here? And you, Dahlia! You better not let Dotty catch you fooling around like this while you're supposed to be working, or she's liable to kick up a big fuss!"

"N-No, sir, Mr. Jarvis, I-I won't, sir!" Dahlia gasped, near tears, and rushed in a frenzy from the barn.

As soon as she was gone, Jarvis guffawed loudly and clapped Brutus on the back. The black buck grinned sheepishly, looking down at his feet in embarrassment.

"You're one helluva lady killer, Brutus, my man," Jarvis said, "But if my dad ever finds out you're poking Dahlia, you'd better start hunting for another job. In another state!"

Brutus got serious immediately.

"You ain't gwana tell him, is you, Mister Jarvis?"

"Me? It's none of my affair who you're fucking, Brutus. Hell, I'd like to get into Dahlia's pants myself sometime! Just keep a low profile, that's all. It's pretty dumb to be fucking around in the barn in the middle of the day."

He handed Marmaduke over to the black man and winked at him before striding out of the barn. As he strode up to the house, thinking about the illicit liaison he had broken up, Jarvis grinned and felt a lazy tug of lust at his loins. Shit, he needed a good fuck himself! And Dahlia was sure a succulent peach of a girl. He'd known about his father and the mulatto wench for years. His bedroom was right next to his dad's, and virtually every night, he could hear Dahlia's moans and screeches of carnal pleasure and the loud squeaking of the bed springs.