Taste of Lacey(7)By: Linden Hughes
“Ah, yes,” he groaned in an unrecognizable voice as cum shot from him at high speed. Raw sensation ravaged him from the ends of his hair to the soles of his feet. It took a few minutes, but eventually his thudding heart calmed to normal. When his legs worked again, he retrieved a towel from the bathroom.
Lacey flinched at the warm, soapy towel between her legs, but then she seemed to enjoy the soothing ministration. He felt the stirrings of another hard-on, barely noticing when the towel slipped to the floor.
Anyone seeing her right now would know with just a glance she’d just been well and thoroughly fucked. And that she’d liked it. Her skin had a rosy glow, aside from the reddish marks left by his stubble. The wild hair, the heavy-lidded eyes, and the languid expression all indicated complete satisfaction. He was responsible, and it made him want to do it all over again, right fucking now.
If he thought she could take more of his dick, he’d already be between her legs. She’d probably be too sore to move at all tomorrow, let alone walk, but he had to have her again. Had to experience the rarity of a full body-and-mind orgasm many, many more times although she didn’t know it yet. Too bad he had to catch a flight in the morning; if he had a choice he wouldn’t leave.
“You’re so sexy here.” He ran his index finger along the satiny skin on the side of her breast.
“I’m glad you approve.” Sleep clouded her voice as she brushed her hand softly over his chest. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. McKay.”
“Oh, it’s Mr. McKay now?” He chuckled.
“What? You want me to stroke your big-ass ego? Okay. You more than delivered on your promise,” she admitted before giving him a wan smile. “What are you staring at?”
“You.” With an unlined, angular face, high cheekbones, and symmetrical nose, she was beautiful. The pretty girl no one wanted to mess with because of her protective older brother. And her brother’s best friend. The irony was her most attractive feature was her lack of vanity, which was as much of a turn-on as her looks. “How is it possible you’re the same shade from head to toe?”
“You never had a black woman pass through that revolving bedroom door of yours?”
“Nope. Never had the pleasure,” he whispered, his voice once again thick with desire. Just like his cock.
“To answer your question, besides genetics, I guess I don’t have tan lines because I don’t actively pursue the sun. I can’t believe you’re fascinated by something so ordinary to me.”
“Well, I am. You look good enough to eat.” He licked the plump, full breast he was still stroking. After a minute of sucking her citrusy skin, he raised his head. “You okay?”
“Other than not being able to walk?”
He managed a slow smile. “Yeah.”
“Yes,” she said, and then she inched to the middle of the bed. After clicking off the lamp, he pulled her into his arms just as she fell into a quiet, boneless sleep.
Mr. Bishop and Kyle were going to fucking kill him. He shifted until his body bracketed Lacey’s, and then cupped his hand over her warm sex. Hell, she was worth it. He’d sampled heaven, and no way was he giving it up.
“So, Lacey, did you get tuned up this week? And by tuned up, I mean did Rye damn near put your ass in a coma again? I need all the juicy details.” Monica Broussard said with a cheeky grin as she lifted a bowl of seafood mix onto her workstation.
Lacey cursed the poor judgment that ever made her tell Monica a single word about Rye’s dynamic bedroom skills. Of course her cousin loved putting Lacey on the spot, particularly if the topic was s-e-x. In a weak moment, she’d set a stupid precedent, and now Monica was stalking her for more information just like she had over the last three months. That long since her one-night stand had turned into weeks of a sexual haze.
“Oh, La-cey? I know you hear me.”
“Look, we have at least a thousand more shells to fill and a short time to get them done.” Lacey used the sternest voice she could muster, never looking up from her task. “We don’t have time for idle chitchat.”
“I was just wondering because I haven’t heard you mention Mr. Ryder McKay in a few days. I’ve never had vanilla, but hell, in his case, even I would give him a lick. Try. I mean try.”