Taste of Lacey (14 page)

Still her mind wouldn’t rest. A contortionist move ended with her straddling his hips, her knees on the bed. She leaned down and, with gentle flicks as not to startle him, painted his flat nipple with her tongue. Every time she put her mouth there, she could count on his immediate and fierce reaction. He didn’t disappoint.

“Ah, baby,” he groaned and opened his lids halfway. “Feels so damn good.”

“I’m glad you’re awake. You like how I’m touching you?” She scraped her teeth a few inches across one hard pectoral as she rotated her center against his straining cock. His breath hissed out, followed by an agonized groan.

“Yes.”

She worked her tongue all around his lean torso with the intent of wreaking havoc on his senses. He was in great physical shape, but his breath came in short, labored bursts, like he struggled to get it out. Good. She wanted him hot and desperate as a result of her touch. And her touch alone. Like he’d taught her, she wrapped her fingers around his thick, hard length and stroked.

“Last night you said I was yours,” she reminded him, pumping her hand in a firm rhythm. “A little one-sided, don’t you think?”

In an audacious move, she rolled a condom over his cock. She stayed on task even as he gripped her thighs so hard she thought she might break. Then she sank down on him and rocked and pushed until he filled her. When he was buried to the hilt, she stopped.

“You forgot to mention just as my pussy is yours, this, you, are mine.”

With a harsh cry, he jackknifed almost into a sitting position and cradled her body, surrounding her. His knees reached midway up her back, and his chest melded with hers, setting off sparks of electricity. He threaded his hands under her arms to latch on to her shoulders, and holding her in place, he surged deeply, powerfully into her.

“God, Lacey, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“Then tell me. Say it,” she whispered, almost pleading to hear the words to make it real, make him hers. Her bravado was gone now, along with the temptress. “Tell me you’re mine too.”

“I’m yours, baby,” he grunted. “This is your dick, Lacey. Yours.”

“Only mine?” she asked as she lifted her hips and then brought them down again.

“
Yes
,” he hissed, and finally she relaxed, content to let him take the lead. She had what she wanted. Instead, he dropped back to the pillow and crossed his arms beneath it. At her questioning look, he shook his head. “It’s your dick, baby. Ride it.”

Her tunnel flooded with her hot juices. There was work to be done. Her internal muscles clenched his shaft as she showed him, told him in every way except with the actual words how much she loved him. She worked her pussy around
her
dick, squeezing and rocking. She had no intention of stopping until his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

RYE LAY BACK and stared, mesmerized by his woman as she made love to him. Nothing in his experience could have prepared him for how fucking content it made him. Lacey was home for him, and it made him breathe easier having realized it.

In slow, sure strokes, she swerved her delectable ass and gripped his cock. It was powerful and humbling to see her owning him.

“Yes, baby. Handle that dick,” he whispered, just managing to keep his hands to himself, to let her be the director and star of this show.

She kept the steady rhythm until he was ready to explode. When the tip of him hit the right spot deep within her, she threw her head back and shook through an orgasm. Her pleasure was his cue to let go.

She collapsed on his chest and rested her cheek above his pounding heart. He wrapped his arms around her and shifted her to the bed beside him, stroking her hair, whispering soothing words of want, of need. Then he watched as she fell asleep.

Chapter Fifteen

Lacey stretched and opened her eyes to look at Rye. Would the glorious feeling of waking up next to him ever get old? She doubted it. Content, she rubbed the ball of her foot up and down his muscled calf.

“Hi, you,” she murmured.

“Hi, baby.” He smiled as he stroked her hip. “I love watching you sleep,” he told her, his blue eyes dark and intense.

Her skin heated. With a few soft-spoken words, her legs were ready to pop wide open as if they were spring-loaded. God, this man had her so whipped it was ridiculous.

“Me too,” she replied and then rested her hand on his chest. She luxuriated in the melodic rhythm of his heartbeat and the erotic contrast of their skin tones. “Have you ever wondered how this happened? How we got here?”

He cupped her cheek and turned her face toward him. “What do you mean?”

“How did we go from one day being friendly neighbors to being a couple? I’ve racked my brain, and nothing makes sense.”

He slowed the stroking of his hand on her hip. “Does it have to be analyzed to pieces? Can’t we go with it because it feels good?”

“Well, you know I hardly do anything simply because it feels good. I’ve always had to have order and logic, and even now I still wonder how we got here.”

“Have you ever considered everything else was leading up to this? We were in the right place at the right time?”

She nodded. “To a certain extent, but it’s not like we had anything going before the night of the fund-raiser, so I’m puzzled.”

His hand stilled. “All I know is I had to have more. And more. And I still haven’t had enough.”

“No one was more surprised than me when you came to see me again. I guess I was a sure thing,” she said with a choked laugh.

“More like I was hoping.”

“Now we’re so familiar you want me to walk around the house buck naked all the time.”

Rye’s chest rumbled with his deep chuckle. “Are you going to grant my wish?”

She tweaked his nipple. “Focus, perverted man. I was making an observation. Just trying to make sense of this.”

“I don’t question it. We were friends, and now we’re lovers. Simple.”

“You never wonder if we’ll fizzle out as quickly as we started?” Finally, she’d voiced the real reason for her concern. Her feelings for Rye were intense and over the top that sometimes she was left with more questions than answers. The giddiness of a passionate new relationship was wonderful, but she had to be realistic too. Things could end in an instant.

“I don’t worry about what we used to have, and I don’t give a damn what anybody thinks. I’m only concerned about you and me. You should take a page out of my book.”

Lacey wanted to be comforted by his words. Sure, she was a worrywart, but he usually managed to soothe her ruffled feathers. She hoped it worked this time too.

“Paula called earlier,” he told her.

She stiffened. “And?”

“I leave for Chicago first thing in the morning. There’s a plant down, and the crew can’t seem to get a handle on it.”

It was news she’d been dreading but still hoped wouldn’t come so soon. She wasn’t ready for him to leave yet. The lover in her wanted to wail and moan and beg him to stay, but then she’d look clingy and needy, and he’d have to leave anyway. Her mature, sensible part had to grin and bear it. “Well, if the party is ending tomorrow, we should make the best of the night, right?”

Chapter Sixteen

Rye was gone, and Lacey ached with loneliness, but she was determined to go about business as usual. She decided to visit her parents after work, her first time seeing them since the luncheon.

“Hi, Mom,” Lacey said as she approached the kitchen where her mother was arranging silverware in the drawer. And just because she’d missed her mother this week, Lacey gave her a hug.

“Lacey, honey, orange looks nice on you,” her mother offered, returning the tight embrace. She smoothed a manicured finger across Lacey’s eyebrow. “Your father is gone to an antique book auction. Would you like to join me for dinner?”

“Sure, if it’s no trouble,” Lacey replied. She went to the prep sink and washed her hands.

“Of course not. This is your home. Let’s eat at the island since it’s just the two of us. Nobody else is going to pop in, right?” her mother asked.

And so it started.

Lacey had hoped to at least make it to dessert before having to arm for battle. No such luck. “If you’re referring to Rye, he left this morning for an assignment in Chicago. He’ll be back soon.”

Her mother pressed her lips firmly together but kept setting the table. “Did you attend church Sunday?”

“Yes, ma’am. The early service,” Lacey replied. It was probably best not to mention she’d purposefully chosen to go at a time she knew her mother wouldn’t be present. “Reverend Thurston spoke about how we all fall short of perfection. It was a great sermon.”

Her mother gripped the fork in her hand until her knuckles paled. Back straight, she finished her task without commenting. The meal was enjoyable considering every bite Lacey took of the succulent chateaubriand fought its way around the lump in her throat to settle like a rock in her stomach. She’d been on edge since her mother’s mention of Rye.

“I take it you were too busy this week to pick up the phone and return either of my calls?” her mother asked as they straightened the kitchen after they finished eating.

Lacey sighed. “I got your calls, Mother. I needed time to regroup after the fiasco Sunday. I’m trying to make sense of why you would treat a guest in your home the way you did. Especially Rye.”

Her mother paused and arched a well-maintained brow. “How should I have reacted to the news about you and him dating? And why couldn’t you tell your mother directly? I didn’t exactly have a welcome speech prepared when he showed up since I was blindsided.”

“But why would you treat him so cold? Because I didn’t get your approval first? Because I didn’t stick to whatever plan you laid out for me?”

“You should be thankful I had plans for you. Thanks to your father and me, you are an educated, intelligent business owner. You could at least acknowledge our contributions by including us in life-changing decisions.”

“Contributions? Because you wrote a check from my college fund to help me start my business, you think you should be able to control me?”

“Not monetary contributions! As your parents, it was our duty to educate you. Since you paid your way with scholarships, you earned what we gave you. I am hurt by the implication that money would ever taint our relationship. I raised all my children to be independent, critical thinkers; why would I be upset because you have a mind of your own?”

Since when?
Lacey’s stomach clenched as she suppressed her need to scream her frustration. If she ever veered off the track, she caught hell, and now her mother claimed encouraging independent thought?
Wow
. “It would be different if you had the same rule for all three of us. But you love to control me, and only me, which I find strange. Kyle and Lisa run around here free as birds, but you want me under your thumb all the damn time.”

Her mother’s face flushed, turning her honey-brown skin a deep red. “Watch your mouth, young lady. And that is not true,” she ground out before throwing the drying towel on the counter.

“No? Why is it when I do something you don’t like, you retaliate with emotional blackmail? I told you I was going to Columbia instead of Clark, and you didn’t speak to me for a month. Kyle and Lisa buck the mold whenever they please. Your only response is to throw your hands up and walk away.”

“Because of your potential! All my kids are talented, but you are the
most
talented.” Her mother’s eyes flashed, and her jaw muscle bulged. “Your grandmother was the first female dean at Clark Atlanta’s School of Business; was it too much to expect her first granddaughter to attend the program she helped create?”

Lacey cocked her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “And my MBA from Clark counts for nothing?”

“Sure, but it was much later than I expected.”

“And what about my becoming a ‘glorified cook’? Not that there’s anything wrong with being a cook, but is my defiance still sticking in your craw?”

“Of course not. I’m proud of your career and how well you’re doing, but would it have killed you to join one of your parents’ businesses?”

Lacey didn’t hesitate with her response. “Yes.”

Her mother heaved an exasperated sigh. “The point is, Lacey, sometimes different is not always better. Sometimes it doesn’t pay to go against the grain. A smooth path will get you where you need to go, even if it’s not where you want to go. Maybe one day your Aunt Maddie will talk to you about that. I’m your mother, and until you challenge me at every turn, I consider myself a pretty good one.”

A long moment passed before Lacey said anything. “You are a wonderful mother.”

“Then why didn’t you just come to me and tell me yourself you and Rye are seeing each other?”

“At first it was something just for me, and I didn’t share it with
anyone
.”

“But what was wrong with that young man Malik who had lunch with us? He seemed perfectly suited to you. Nice, handsome, successful—”

“Black?” Lacey cut in. “Is that what you mean?”

“Is it unreasonable to expect my daughter to date someone of a similar background?”

Lacey could only stare at her mother’s face, beautiful and brown, like her own. She pulled a stool from the edge of the monstrous island and sat with her hands clasped on the table. For the first time in her life, she felt a true disconnect from her mother. Of course they’d had enough disagreements over the years to fill a barn, but nothing that couldn’t be worked out. They shared a loving, trusting relationship 99 percent of the time. She knew her mother had her best interest at heart no matter what the situation, but now she wasn’t sure what to believe. Her mother had cared for Rye and their other nonethnic friends over the years, so this condescending attitude was the last thing Lacey had anticipated.

“I just don’t know what to say. You are the last person I thought would feel this way. Sometimes Rye and I get nasty looks or pointed fingers from ignorant people in the street, but I never would have put you in that category,” Lacey said, not caring that her mother blanched at her statement. “And it has to just be you; Rye talked to Daddy, and he gave us his blessing.”