Taste of Lacey(8)

By: Linden Hughes

“Plus, I figured you could use some new freaky bedroom tips by now,” Monica continued.

“I don’t need any help entertaining Rye’s dick, thank you very much. He is well taken care of,” Lacey muttered as she loaded another finished tray of food onto the cart. Troy, her head chef, was off today, so she was helping Monica prepare appetizers. The better decision probably would have been tackling paperwork in the office.

“Damn. Using big-girl words and everything. You must have already taken my advice and turned straight hood in the bed.”

Rarely did Lacey allow her thoughts to dwell on Rye while she was working; it made her miss and want him too much. With him, her pussy was ready on demand, which was a bit alarming. She didn’t quite understand her new over-the-top libido herself, so no way was she going to indulge Monica’s voyeuristic fantasies. “It’s all Rye. He just does something to me.”

Monica’s eyes grew as big as saucers. “What do you mean, ‘does something’ to you? Does he want you to do some kinky shit like bondage or something? I knew it. I knew being with a white man was more of a difference than you could handle!”

“No, Monica. Hell no. Our families have been friends for more than twenty years; why would race be an issue with us? I’m just saying he makes it easy to do anything and everything with him.”

Monica calmed and gave a wide, sly smile. “He sexes you that good?”

Lacey flushed and was probably beet red, a hard feat with her brown complexion. “Yes.”

“Ah, so it’s true.”

She stopped in her tracks. “What’s true?”

“What they say about white men,” Monica said with a devilish grin.

Knowing she shouldn’t ask, Lacey did anyway. “What do they say?”

Monica gave a dramatic pause before answering. “They have…white parents.”

Lacey sputtered with laughter. “Monica!”

“I’m just playing. I always thought Rye’s sexy behind had a little roughneck in him. He looks like he could eat you alive. Does he?”

“Does he what?” Lacey asked without thinking.

“When he eats your puss—”


“You are such a prude. No wonder you don’t need a whole hand to count the men you’ve been with,” Monica said through her laughter.

“I’m not a prude. I just don’t broadcast every little thing I do like some people I know,” she said with a pointed look.

“Okay, okay. I’m trying to make sure you can beat any competition for Rye’s attention hands down. I don’t want some hoochie to accidentally fall on his dick and him like it because you’re not up to snuff.”

Lacey frowned. Although she knew her cousin was pulling her chain, the very thought of Rye with another woman gave her pause. “I’m not worried about competition. Rye and I are having a good time.”

“You sure?” Monica’s eyebrows rose almost to her hairline.

No, she wasn’t sure Rye didn’t have other women, and the thought was making her nauseous. “We have to prepare for one of the biggest jobs we’ve ever had. Let’s focus on getting finished.”

“I’m trying to help you out. Rye stays gone for a while sometimes, and I’m sure such a virile man has to have a woman on a regular basis. Have you ever thought about what you’d do if you found out he was with someone else?”

Lacey’s heart sped up, and she found it difficult to suck in enough air without alerting Monica to her distress. Could he be with someone else even as he kept knocking on her door all hours of the day and night? Whispering how he loved making her wet and how hard she made him come?

“Lacey?” Monica called after the long silence.

Lacey started moving again, this time filling the shells in curt, jerky motions. “I haven’t thought about Rye being with anyone else. I just want to complete this batch on time.”

“You should think about it. And you should make sure your brown sugar produces all the sweetness he needs. If you want to keep him, you have to make it so good he can’t even see another woman. Come to think of it, you don’t already let him go raw in you, do you?”