Hip Hop Heat

• Title Page
  
• Copyright Page
  
• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
• Chapter Eighteen
  
• Chapter Nineteen
  
• Chapter Twenty
  
• Chapter Twenty-One
  
• Chapter Twenty-Two
  
• Chapter Twenty-Three
  
• Chapter Twenty-Four
  
• Chapter Twenty-Five
  
• Chapter Twenty-Six
  
• Chapter Twenty-Seven
  
• Chapter Twenty-Eight
  
• Chapter Twenty-Nine
  
• Chapter Thirty
  
• Chapter Thirty-One
  
• Chapter Thirty-Two
  
• Chapter Thirty-Three
  
• Chapter Thirty-Four
  
• Chapter Thirty-Five
  
• Chapter Thirty-Six
  

Hip Hop Heat

A Ravenous Romance™ Red Carpet Romance™ Original Publication

Tricia Tucker

A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publication

www.ravenousromance.com

Hip Hop Heat

Copyright © 2008 by Tricia Tucker

Ravenous Romance™

100 Cummings Center

Suite 125G

Beverly, MA 01915

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-000-8

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

After another lonely night spent zoning out in front of the TV, 28-year-old Lalana George decided to take a hot shower and go to bed.

Alone.

She sighed, tried Kenneth's number one last time, then — as his voicemail answered yet again - resisted the urge to throw the cell phone at the wall. Lalana was sick and tired of the on-again, off-again relationship she was stuck in with Kenneth, and longed for so much more than the occasional fuck he doled out whenever
he
saw fit.

Take tonight, for instance. They were supposed to go out to dinner, catch a movie in nearby Lomita, then come back to her place in Carson; where she planned to give him a taste of just how good she was.

Lalana was confident a taste wouldn't be enough for Kenneth, and spent most of the afternoon fantasizing about the many different ways she wanted him to enter her: so deep, so warm.

But here she was, two hours after their planned date (admittedly her idea), still waiting for him. Lalana seethed with anger and desire. Kenneth, meanwhile, couldn't even answer his phone.

Showered and exhausted, Lalana lay naked across her queen-sized bed. Her mind raced angrily through the night's events: from plotting the date, to being stood up, to being unable to reach Kenneth at all. Eventually Lalana's mind wandered to her libido. God, she was horny.

Lalana remembered the sex toys she kept hidden beneath her bathroom sink. With a renewed sense of purpose and determination, she rushed to the kitchen for a glass of wine.

"Who says I need a man to get off?" she asked aloud, carrying her full wine glass to the bedroom. Warm droplets of water fell from Lalana's wet hair, sprinkling her breasts and lower back. Her nipples hardened.

Lalana dimmed the lights and turned on soft music to complete the mood, then retrieved her toys from the bathroom. Everything in place, she pulled a full-length mirror away from her closet door and closer to her bed. Lalana had found watching herself masturbate was just the trick to put her over the edge.

With the mirror angled just right, Lalana hoisted her cinnamon-colored naked body onto a mountain of pillows atop the bed. Long legs spread wide, she adjusted herself before using moistened fingers to tap her neatly shaven pussy.

Within moments Lalana felt herself come alive; and anxiously pried her lips apart with those same slender fingers. The sheer sight of her glazed flesh in the mirror triggered something sensual in Lalana's brain.

"Oooh," she cooed, imagining an invisible lover who might respond with a slow, deep hip thrust.

Lalana grabbed her vibrator with her other hand and eagerly penetrated herself with enough force to send a shiver up through her core. Rough and tough was Lalana's preference when it came to getting it on. She massaged her full breasts while penetrating herself again and again.

With the vibrator nestled deep inside of her, Lalana tightened her muscles, convulsed, and released. She closed her eyes and imagined the fingers squeezing her taut nipple belonged to anyone but herself. The smell of her own wetness tickled Lalana's senses even more.

"Ssshit." Lalana bit down on her lip while pushing the firm silicone stud even deeper. She contracted, using her muscles as a silky velvet trap to held the device tight and secure. Lalana tingled with pleasure as her senses kicked into overdrive. She was sloppy wet. Her toes curled while the toy buzzed inside of her. The more it moved, the hungrier she became.

The hand Lalana used to palm her breast worked vigorously. She squeezed, released, squeezed again, then pushed her nipple toward her mouth. She sucked and suckled it the way men had done before her, then held the erect nipple between her teeth, biting down. The move sent a sensation swirling into a perfect combination of pleasure and pain. She knew she needed more.

After moving the vibrator back and forth through her wet pussy a bit longer, Lalana beat at her opening with the toy. The sensation caused her to squeeze her eyes shut and yelp with sheer ecstasy. Her lips trembled.

With toes dug deep into the sheets, Lalana tightened her cheeks, wiggled her hips, and used the vibrator to slap her silky slit again before shoving the steel-like rod back inside.

"Oh, God!" she screamed. It felt so good; so real - as though the toy was actually a powerful man who knew exactly how to please her. Lalana closed her eyes and imagined MC ROC, her favorite rapper.

"Make me come, Daddy, make me come," she begged of her fantasy. Lalana wiggled her hips. Then, with careful precision and saturated fingers, she pulled back the hood shielding her now-swollen clit. Lalana took a peek in the mirror, watching as she used the silicone muscle to massage her throbbing lips.

It felt real. It felt good.

Her body temperature rose as this feeling threatened to overwhelm her. She longed for a sturdy tongue to lap her unruly, pink button into submission. But Lalana had grown accustomed to using what she had; and for the time being, what she had worked just fine.

With these thoughts in mind and her pink button double its normal size, Lalana flicked the vibrator's switch to its fastest speed and set it against her inflated clit. The vibrations tingled her to her core.

"Uh, uh, uh," she panted.

The euphoria washing over Lalana fluttered in waves, rushing through her veins with unparalleled speed. Lalana's legs trembled, her lips quivered, and her eyes rolled back into her head.
This
, she decided, was exactly what she needed. The release as her pussy's walls shook was so intense, so overwhelming, she decided she had done far better than any man could have.

"Look at this." Lalana wrinkled her nose as squished the skin on her thigh together for her friends. "See, how it looks like cottage cheese?"

Lisa and Tina, both close enough to smell hints of the Ocean Breezes body wash Lalana had used in the shower, looked perplexed as they stared at their friend's thigh.

"I don't know, maybe it's just me. I just don't think it's all that bad," Lisa said, running her hand along Lalana's leg.

"Me either," Tina added. The girls, friends since their days at Long Beach State University, had very different personalities that came together to form a perfect trio. Tina was peacemaker; often softening Lisa's straightforward, abrasive comments and opinions. Lalana was the sensitive one; second-guessing herself in nearly all decisions, and quietly suffering in silence when Lisa's comments hit too close to home.

The women met after all three were rejected from the same sorority. They became fast friends. Lalana attended Long Beach on scholarship. She grew up in Texas and moved to Los Angeles with her mother, who followed an old boyfriend to the city after Lalana finished middle school. Lisa and Tina were California natives. In the five years since college graduation, Lalana, Lisa and Tina remained close. They lived near each other and shared in each other's struggles as strong, single women.

Lalana grabbed another chunk of her thigh, "How could you
not
think this is bad?" She pulled Lisa's hand to the new section she held. "It makes my stomach churn just to look at it. Even when I don't: Just knowing it's there makes me sick." Lalana sighed.

Tina pulled back and sucked her teeth. She brought her wine glass to her lips. "I think it's all in your mind," she said before taking a sip. "That's why I don't like watching this shit with you." Tina motioned toward the TV.

It had been several days since Lalana's evening of excellent masturbation; and the great solo sex - in addition to having her best friends around - renewed her. The wine flowed steadily for more than an hour before Lalana pulled up several episodes of "Doctor 90210" on the Style Network. The show gave an uncensored glimpse of people's plastic surgery procedures.

"Whaa?" Lalana protested. "I've been wanting lipo way before I started watching this show. I used to have an old pickle jar in college that I saved money in for my procedure."

Tina and Lisa exchanged glances before looked at Lalana. Smirking, Lisa chimed in. "In all the years I've known you, and it's been quite a few, I ain't never heard you say shit about no damn lipo. Next thing you know, you'll want a boob job."

Lalana grabbed her breasts, shook them a bit and laughed. "Girl, puh-lee-ze! I think I got that department covered." The girls giggled.

Hours passed. The friends downed more glasses of wine while gawking intermittently at the graphic TV show.

"You know," Lisa said, "the 'before and after' shots make the procedures seem almost tempting; but I don't know if I'd feel comfortable going under the knife."

"If I had a doctor like him, I think I could," Tina countered, pointing a wine glass at the Brazilian doctor on the program, who was in the middle of inserting two silicone implants into a woman's body.

"Eeewwww," Lisa frowned.

"They just make it all look so easy," Lalana said longingly. She felt due for some kind of drastic makeover.

"That's
easy
to you?" Lisa asked incredulously. "You notice how they don't show us these people's recovery."

Lalana ignored her. "Maybe I should get a weave, you know, like Beyonce's. I mean think about it - hair running all down to my hips."

"There's nothing wrong with you," Lisa said.

"I'd get a boob job," Tina admitted. She was a buyer for Macy's and often complained about the way her own clothes fit - or didn't - as a result of her A-cup breasts. She was also a wiz on the sewing machine, often creating unique outfits of her own.

"The problem is, once you get one thing done, you get addicted," Lisa said. "First it's your boobs; then your stomach - next thing you know, you trynta' get a rib removed. Not to mention taking out a second mortgage to pay for all of that mess." Lisa was an accountant for a small homebuilder.

"I just know I need to do
something
," Lalana said. "Maybe I don't need lipo. But I feel like a change would do me good."

"Why?" Lisa asked. "Don't tell me Kenneth is trippin' again."

Lalana didn't respond. She had promised herself it was over with Kenneth. And as far as she was concerned, there was nothing wrong with wanting a makeover. Maybe her girlfriends were right; maybe she didn't need to go under the knife. But she knew for sure she needed some kind of change or excitement.

Lalana's life had become lame at best. She went to work at a PR job she hated in spite of being quite good at; came home, and occasionally enjoyed happy hour with the girls. At times Lalana was so bored, she started people-watching, trying to guess what strangers' lives might be like.

Hers, Lalana decided, had boiled down to one humdrum day after another. "I just feel like I'm in a rut," she told her friends. "I don't know how to explain it."

"Well, I dunno what to tell you," Lisa said, "except that going under the knife is a bit drastic."

"Maybe to you," Lalana defended.

"Yeah, you're right about that." Lisa leaned forward. "Maybe to me. But I'll tell you what you need." Lisa sat staring for a moment, studying Lalana for the right diagnosis. "You need some real good dick." Lalana gasped as Lisa continued. "I mean it! You need a good, spine-tingling fuck. I guarantee you'll get a whole new outlook on life."

The room was silent except for a narrator on "Doctor 90210." Then, Lalana began to laugh. The other girls joined in. Soon they were hysterical.

Lalana had no way of knowing just how much her life was about to change.