Taste of Lacey (8 page)

She shrugged. “Some people still make a big deal of race, but I don’t care. Does it bother you?”

He reached under the table and placed her hand on top of his hard cock. “Does this feel like it bothers me? Or does it feel like I find you so sexy tonight I would fuck you here and now if I could?”

Moisture rushed to her core, and her feminine folds tingled. Mercy, he was potent. She looked around self-consciously, as if every other patron knew how aroused she was, how close she was to climbing on the table, opening her legs, and letting him do just what he said—fuck her right here and now. Her need for him was out of control, and she had to get herself together.

How she made it through ordering her meal, she had no idea. Rye had made her head spin and her pussy quiver, but somehow she managed to smile at their server and make appropriate responses. She felt like a damn fiend because she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was so long and lean, and his tailored clothes caressed him like an anxious lover. The spot where his shirt opened into a V at his neck, where she’d licked this morning, mesmerized her. His fineness was throwing her equilibrium off.

Their server left, and Lacey cleared her throat. “Is this the type of behavior I can expect from you the rest of the evening?”

He sent a heated look over the rim of his glass. “I’m humoring you even by letting you stay here for this long,” he said, his gaze revealing with no uncertainty what he’d rather be doing.

“So far, this place has been great,” she commented as she sipped the full-bodied house wine.

“I thought you might enjoy it. When your woman is an executive chef, it’s a bit of a challenge to find an acceptable restaurant.”

Shards of lightning ran down her spine.
His woman
. Was she his woman? What did he mean? She was losing her mind over two little words.

Calm down.

“As far as I’m concerned, not having to prepare the food gives it an automatic awesome vote in my book. I should bring the entire Thymes crew here to let someone else wait on them for a change. Can’t you see Monica barking orders to her minions?”

Rye chuckled and nodded. “We’ll all suffer if you give that girl more power.”

“I know, but if it makes her happy, so be it.”

“She’s important to you, huh?”

“Yes, she is. Without Monica, there would be no Seasoned Thymes. She didn’t call me crazy when I came up with the harebrained idea to open my own business. She rolled up her sleeves and put in as much sweat and tears as I have.”

“I know what you mean. I feel the same about Paula. We were paired together right after I started with the company full-time, and she has never left my side.”

She took another sip of wine. “Does Paula ask why she has to call me when you’re out of town?”

“No.” He frowned. “Why would she?”

“Well, she’s known me only as your best friend’s younger sister all these years, not as your lover. I wonder if she thinks it strange to contact me with updates on you.”

He peered closely at her. “You’re embarrassed,” he said, his voice hard.

“What? No! Not embarrassed. Just…private.”

“You care too much about other people’s opinions. I don’t give a damn what anybody else thinks about us being together.” The muscles in his jaw jumped a mile a minute.

“No. It’s just, she has to know things about us. About what we do.”

“Oh. You don’t want her to know we fuck well and often.”

“Rye!” She looked around to make sure no one had heard him, scowling when he laughed out loud.

“What are you afraid of? Someone telling your daddy? Too late.”

Her lids narrowed to slits, and her entire body stiffened. If it was possible, steam would be coming out of her ears. “Ryder Jackson McKay, explain right now.”

“I talked to your dad today too.”

Beads of sweat gathered at the small of her back as she considered Rye’s announcement. She hadn’t so much as mentioned a male friend to her parents since her ex-fiancé, and now Rye had taken it upon himself to invite her father into her business? Fury rushed through her until she was shaking. “Let me get this straight. Not only did you talk to my brother about us, but you also spoke to my father without discussing it with me first?”

“I let him know you and I are together now. Is there a problem?”

“Yes, there’s a problem. We aren’t even a real couple. What exactly did you tell him? That you and I screw sometimes? That we get naked and—”

“Enough, Lacey,” Rye cut in, his steely voice startling her into silence. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to keep us a dirty little secret. Does the thought of our friends and family knowing not appeal to you?”

Her heart raced so fast she thought it might jump out of her chest. “Don’t be ridiculous! I just can’t imagine what you told Dad since you and I haven’t discussed ‘us’ ourselves.”

“Okay, let’s back up.” He sighed and leaned back against the leather-covered booth. “I may have jumped the gun a bit, but we
are
together.”

“Okay. Meaning what? As far as I can tell, we’re just having a fling.”

“It means we spend time together, and we enjoy each other.” He ended the sentence with a resounding period. Case closed.

It was killing her not to ask a million questions and demand answers, but judging by the hard look on his face, she wouldn’t have them tonight. Fine. Tolerance didn’t come easy to her, but common sense did, and she knew better than to push him. But surely one question wouldn’t push his buttons too much.

“What did my dad say?”

Rye curved his lips into a roguish smile. “He reminded me of how spoiled his daughter is and wished me luck. He said I was going to need it.”

“Rye!” she sputtered. Then her laughter turned into an agonized groan. “Oh my word. What about my mother?”

“She wasn’t there, so calm down. Mr. Bishop thought it best to talk to her himself—when the time is right.”

She heaved a sigh of relief. “Well, that explains why my phone hasn’t spontaneously combusted.”

“Hell, forget the phone. I’m surprised
I
haven’t gone up in flames,” he half joked.

Mrs. Lena Bishop was a force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to her children. She could kick ass and take names with the best of them, which made her legendary in Atlanta’s real estate community. The only person she didn’t usually cross was Lacey’s father, John. Anybody else was fair game.

Lacey and Rye shared spirited conversation, although his high-handedness stayed on her mind. She would have preferred he at least let her know he’d planned on talking to her family, but staying mad about it was a waste of time and energy. Her family accused her of having a stubborn trait, but Rye could teach the class. Right now, though, she just wanted to enjoy being with him.

Their food arrived, her grilled lobster entrée was cooked to perfection, as were the sides with it. He ate his porterhouse and all the trimmings, and then she watched in fascination as he finished everything left on her plate. After seeing it in action many times over the years, she still couldn’t believe someone so lean could consume so much food.

“Should we get the waiter and order more?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

“Nope. That was enough to fuel the energetic activities I’ll be engaging in later,” he said with a wicked smirk.

Heat started at the roots of her hair and then spread to her face. “Are you assuming you’re gonna get some tonight?”

Rye shook his head. “Not assume. Know.”

Her libido had been on a low simmer since he picked her up, and she also knew how she wanted the evening to end, but she kept her little secret to herself.

“Play your cards right, and we’ll see,” she taunted.

“Yes, ma’am. Tell me about the clients you had while I was away.”

She obliged, knowing he was always interested in the colorful characters she came across. “Two mothers of the brides acted like complete fools over nothing when they forgot it was their daughters’ weddings, not theirs. Then there were an ex-girlfriend and baby mama who crashed one wedding and caused all kinds of damage to the church dressing room. But the absolute best scene happened when a groom’s boyfriend ran down the aisle crying and sobbing. Reality TV-worthy.”

She laughed at Rye’s horrified expression before asking him about his recent jobs.

He spoke, and his tone grew more and more passionate, revealing how much he truly enjoyed his profession. It was tedious and sometimes dangerous, but obviously in his blood to take things that were broken and make them work again.

“Lots of travel is just part of the territory. There’s a plan in the works to cut down on my road time, though.”

“You at home would be wonderful,” she commented in a sedate voice, even as she had to calm the shout trying to get past her lips. The very thought of him being around all the time made her heart flutter and her panties wet. A visit to the washroom to freshen up was very much in order.

Chapter Seven

Rye’s gaze followed Lacey’s every step as she strutted to the restroom near the front of the restaurant. She passed by two men recently seated at a neighboring table, who also watched the play of her apple-shaped backside. He couldn’t hear their comments, but he saw their nods of appreciation for her attributes. Rye’s nostrils flared, and he gritted his teeth. She was his. Did he need to put a sign on her chest?

Damn, he had it bad.

But he couldn’t agree more with their obvious assessment of Lacey’s beauty. She was a walking wet dream. In addition to her delicious curves poured into a damnably fitted dress, her toned brown legs looked a mile long in those high heels. With each step, her hips swayed, giving new meaning to poetry in motion. His dick rose as the unfamiliar feeling of jealousy also reared its head. He couldn’t blame any man for wanting her. He was ready to tear either of them to pieces if they spoke one word to her, but then a thought calmed him: at best, they could only imagine what Lacey felt or tasted like, whereas he knew for certain. He’d be the one between her legs later tonight, feasting on her pussy, making her scream his name. His ire left as quickly as it had arrived.

Lacey returned to the table, smiling as she approached. Having motioned to the waiter to put the check on his tab, Rye stood beside her.

“Ready to go?”

“Yes,” she replied.

He rested his palm on her waist and proceeded to lead her out of the maze of the restaurant. When they passed the gentlemen’s table, he lowered his hand to give a subtle stroke over the curve of Lacey’s behind.
Mine
. Satisfied his claim was staked, he guided her toward the hotel’s main lobby.

LACEY’S EYES WIDENED in surprise when they breezed through the entrance of the jazz club on the other side of the building instead of going home. After they found a table and ordered, she sipped on a glass of wine and shimmied her shoulders, signaling her impatience to be on the floor.

“I take it you want to dance.”

“How’d you know?” she returned with a smile. He led her to the small space, rested a large hand on her waist, and held the other up high as he twirled her around. “So what was the hand-on-the-ass bit about in the restaurant?”

“Cold busted, huh?”

“You think?”

“I didn’t want those guys having any ideas you were available.”

He was half a foot taller, but she still managed to stare him down. “I am not some toy on the playground to play keep-away with.”

“No, you’re a beautiful woman, you’re with me, and I made sure they knew it.”

Her chest expanded and almost burst at his possessiveness, but she let the issue drop and continued dancing. She was not going to reveal how much his little display turned her on; she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t observant either. As one upbeat number blended into another, they moved in intricate steps, back and forth, side to side. Rye kept up with ease, and Lacey was surprised he was able to anticipate her well-practiced pace.

“Why, you’ve been holding out on me. I didn’t know you had those kinds of moves,” she drawled, smiling.

He gripped her waist and pulled her close for a moment. “You didn’t think this white boy had rhythm, eh?”

“Nope.” She laughed and shook her head, shaking her behind provocatively to the music.

“Yes, you did.”

“Rye, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you dance before tonight.”

He bent until his lips touched her ear. “No, not on a dance floor, but you should be able to tell from other…activities…how gifted I am.” Then he proceeded to whisper about his abilities in explicit detail.

By the time he lifted his head, her legs could barely hold her up. He reminded her about the strokes, turns, and twists in bed, and never had truer words been spoken. She recalled, even as recent as this morning, him working his hips in a magical dance as he pounded her pussy until her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Just the thought of him inside her made her hot.

He laughed out loud when her expression changed to concede his point. After another pair of up-tempo numbers, the band granted her silent request and made the next selection a slow one. She was desperate to feel him, sighing when he tightened his arms around her. He nipped the curve of her neck with his teeth; she moaned and stepped even closer. As they moved in sync with the singer’s husky alto, it was easy to imagine they were alone in the dim room, letting the smooth notes wrap them in a sensual sheath.

She curved her arms around his shoulders until her breasts meshed with his hard chest. “Thank you. For our date. It’s been great.”

“Thank you for being so beautiful. And for being with me tonight.” He brushed his lips against her ear. She shivered, and her nipples hardened. He put his hand on her hip in a tight grip, letting her feel his arousal, and then buried his nose in her hair. “I wish I could bottle your scent and take it on the road with me. Even if I can’t touch you, I would have a part of you. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night thinking you’re next to me, only to be devastated when I realize it’s a dream.”

She tilted her head back and looked into his turbulent blue eyes, amazed. She thought she was the only one who couldn’t sleep for the constant desire.