Taste of Lacey (6 page)

He nodded and gathered her closer in his arms. “We’ll just have to make it work. I have some errands to run today, but I’ll pick you up around six.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Now back to the most important thing. You’re soft and naked. I’m hard and hurting. What are we going to do about it?” He growled and cupped her breasts. Then he grabbed her knee, draping it over his until her thighs were open high and wide.

With an accuracy resulting from much practice, he inserted two digits inside her aching slit. As usual, her response was swift and intense. Suddenly, her nipples resembled torpedoes, and her feminine lips were moist and swollen. She clamped her thighs together, trapping him. She’d never been near a horse, but the way she rode his fingers was Triple Crown-worthy. Over and over she swerved her hips, seeking relief for her throbbing, shaking core.

“Right there. Yes!”

He obliged her by digging deeper and massaging the spongy patch of nerves capable of sending her into orbit.

Seconds later, she blasted off.

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned when her juices soaked his fingers and ran onto her precious cotton sheets. He reached around her for a condom out of the nightstand drawer. “You’re going to be late.”

She didn’t care.

Chapter Five

Rye blended into the traffic after another driver let him in. He was leaving the Hanover Logistics building, home to his employer’s corporate headquarters and his thirtieth-floor condo—the condo transferred to him free and clear in recognition of his fifteen years with the company.

The June day in Atlanta was a scorcher, but for once, he didn’t mind the suit and tie he wore, an on-site requirement even on Fridays. His meeting with Hanover’s operations officer and a few other senior people had lasted for hours. The proposal was currently under consideration, but Rye was confident of a favorable outcome.

Hell, they didn’t have a choice. Either they’d give him what he wanted, or he would open his own consulting and training firm. In addition to an expense account and the condo, he’d received per diem along with a generous salary for the past fifteen years. Thanks to his frugality and wise investments, he could easily fund a new company and support Lacey if she never wanted to work another day in her life. He chuckled. Whereas the idea of the two of them taking their relationship to the next level suited him just fine, it would drive Lacey apeshit. His baby didn’t do well with situations she couldn’t control.

Even convincing her to ride in the Jeep with the top down was a battle. He grinned and shook his head. Before Lacey, the only place he was concerned about pleasing a female was in the bedroom. Or the living room. Or the shower. Lacey, in all her stubbornness, was in a class of her own. Convincing her to spend her life with him was going to be a son of a bitch.

The interstate hadn’t yet become a nightmare, so it was a quick drive to Pinnacle Development, the construction company founded by Lacey’s father, John Bishop. Rye hated to drop in on Kyle without notice, but this was the only alternative since their schedules hadn’t allowed them to speak in person in several weeks. Kyle deserved to hear about him and Lacey from the source.

He entered the lobby of the five-story building, and the pretty brunette receptionist flashed him a sunny smile. “Rye! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Hi, Pia. Kyle in?”

“He sure is. You lucked out this time,” she said after she connected with Kyle’s assistant through the intercom. “Go on up.”

On the fifth floor, he walked into Kyle’s office. It was still strange seeing his best friend at the helm of the company since Mr. Bishop’s semiretirement last year.

“Wassup, McKay? Heard your ass had landed for a few days.” Kyle greeted him with a palm slap and shoulder bump.

“Yeah, I needed a break. What’s up with you?” Rye sat in one of the plush leather seats in front of Kyle’s desk.

Kyle sighed as he returned to his chair and then propped his feet on the corner of the heavy wood unit. “Working my ass off, but I’m looking forward to some relaxation this weekend. You want me to scoop you up for Tisdale’s party tomorrow night? Nothing but prime pussy.”

Rye chuckled at Kyle’s enthusiasm. “I’ll be there, but with my lady.”

“Damn. Your woman must be hella fine, ’cause your ass is always laid up these days. This is the first time I’ve seen you this fucking whipped.”

“Thanks a lot, Bishop.” Rye cringed at hearing those words in reference to Lacey, although Kyle didn’t know yet. But damn, it was true.

“Hey, I’m not mad. If my dick had just one happy home, I would never leave it.”

“Well, that’s the reason I’m here. To talk to you about who I’m seeing,” Rye said. “It’s Lacey, man.”

A deep scowl formed in Kyle’s forehead as he stilled and seemed to ponder the idea. Then he laughed out loud as if Rye told a joke. “You wish, McKay. She wouldn’t give your ass the time of day. For real, though, who’s got you so damn twisted?”

Rye leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked Kyle straight in the eyes. “Lacey Marie Bishop.”

Kyle frowned as if he was trying to focus. “My sister Lacey? Can’t be.” He shook his head.

“It is. Lacey and I are together now,” Rye reiterated, making sure there was no room for mistake.

Kyle’s frown transformed to disbelief, and he shot to his feet. “I do not fucking believe you,” he snarled. “As much pussy as you’ve run through? Your dick should have its own damn area code. There’s no way Lacey would let you lay a hand on her. Why would you even fucking want to?” His shout reverberated through the room.

“It was the last thing either of us expected, but—”

“Do not try to feed me some Kumbaya bullshit and think I’m going to buy into it. I don’t believe my rational, smart-as-hell sister would volunteer and get in line for your ‘get fucked and move on’ ride. No way.” Kyle curled his hands into fists. “And since when have you been into black women anyway?”

“Don’t even go there.” Rye stood as well and tried to remain calm, but he was finding it hard to do after the insults. “Lacey is an adult. She can make her own decisions. I just didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else. I’ve been trying to get with you, to talk to you face-to-face.”

“Man, what is wrong with you? You’ve known her since she was in grade school! I ought to knock the hell out of you for even thinking about her that way.”

Rye tried not to let it show, but disappointment gripped him tighter than the coil of a boa constrictor. He’d hoped they would have a respectful conversation, but that wasn’t happening.

“There is nothing sordid about my involvement with Lacey. If we have to, you and I will go toe-to-toe,” he bit out. Kyle was his best friend, but Rye wasn’t going to roll over for anyone, brother, friend, or foe. “This is going nowhere, so I’ll leave while both of us are still intact. Lacey and I are together. I care for her. I just wanted you to hear it from me.” Without a backward glance, he walked out of Kyle’s office and headed to his next appointment.

* * * *

Rye sat with the window down, parked on the gravel driveway. He gripped the steering wheel hard enough to form calluses, but the exertion didn’t ease the knot of anger, and maybe hurt, in his throat. He hadn’t expected Kyle to throw a party in celebration of him and Lacey dating, but he hadn’t anticipated outright animosity either. His best friend clearly wanted to kick his ass, and it sucked. There was nothing he could do about it, though. Lacey was his peace, and he wasn’t letting her go.

Sighing, he stepped out of his vehicle. Acorns crunched under his shoes as he walked. The five-acre vacant lot with hundred-year-old oak trees, magnolias, and a full lake view was magnificent. He loved the outdoors, and at this location, all the things he enjoyed would be at his fingertips. Water sports, family gatherings, quiet times. The only thing he wouldn’t do here was his woodworking, which he’d confine to his father’s shop in Lakeview.

School was out for the summer, and he could hear the boisterous voices of teenagers on the lake as they skied, laid out, and probably made out, enjoying being young and living on the water. He, Kyle, and Logan Tisdale had been the same way. Rye wanted his sons or daughters to have a similar experience. For the first time in his thirty-four years, he was giving serious thought to the next generation of McKays, which would continue or end with him. The only son of an only son, he held the family name precariously in his hands. He looked at his watch. Right on schedule, a set of fancy wheels pulled up beside him.

“You upgraded from the Jeep. ’Bout damn time,” Lisa Bishop commented after he opened her car door.

No greeting, no
how are you
. Just straight to conversation. “Thanks,” he returned and smiled.

“I was surprised when you called. Anybody looking at this property has big dreams and even bigger paper, so I hope you’re not wasting my time, McKay.” After taking his hand, she stood as regal as a queen out of the silver Mercedes convertible before going to the trunk.

“I promise not to waste your time, Lisa.”

Leaving the trunk open, Lisa returned with an expensive-looking pair of riding boots, then sat on a corner of her car’s driver’s seat to change her shoes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything other than those high-heeled man killers.”

The piercing look she shot him would make many a man cower and run. Good thing he was immune considering he’d known her since she was born. “I keep boots on hand for when I have to deal with bush and bullshit.”

Rye shook his head. “Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. You never change, do you?”

“Now why would I ever do that?” she asked and then flounced toward a line of mature oak trees. “I had to reschedule an appointment with another client to meet you today. You owe me.”

And her commission wouldn’t count?
“I’d never let you down.”

“You’d better not, cowboy.”

Lisa channeled her full-fledged Realtor persona, giving him the rundown about the property. There was nothing she could tell him he didn’t already know. He’d memorized every detail from the listing and from the information Paula had dug up for him. Lisa continued her sales pitch, never once consulting the slim portfolio in her hand. She was Lena Bishop’s protégé, after all, and she was good at what she did. He just walked silently and listened.

“Of course the boat launch is included. Home-owner’s association dues are paid annually in advance to the association, not to escrow. There is an excellent volunteer fire department only two blocks away, and when you’re ready, the school system is five-star rated.”

They had walked the entire parcel and now stood near the water’s edge.

“Your neighbors straight across the lake are the Bishops—a fabulous family, by the way—the Carters, and the McKays. They’re just a five-minute boat ride away,” Lisa finished. “There’s a lot of interest in this property, and I expect movement soon. Can we put in an offer?”

“Go ahead.” His voice was calm and firm.

“Did you say yes?”

Rye laughed at her shocked expression. “Put in an offer. Full price.”

She whisked a contract from her portfolio. Since she knew most of his basic information, she only inquired to fill in a few of the blanks. “What are you going to offer by way of earnest money?”

He answered, and she continued. After estimating a closing time, she asked about his financing arrangements.

“Cash.”

Lisa raised her eyebrows and nodded but kept writing. “I advise my single clients to title properties with someone they trust if possible. In case of your untimely demise, it keeps the property from becoming a part of your estate. Do you want me to add your parents or Jensen on the deed with you?”

Rye allowed a slow grin to work its way to the surface. The name he gave made her drop her portfolio to the ground, contract and all.

Ever the professional and full of grace, Lisa accepted the items after Rye retrieved them. Then she had him sign and initial the contract in the required places. It was a done deal. The business part was over.

“Now, do you want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Nope, not just yet. And I need you to keep it to yourself until all interested parties have been notified. I haven’t had a chance to do that yet.”

“So in addition to me securing this property for you, I’m supposed to keep my mouth closed about something this major?”

“You got it.”

Lisa shook her head and stomped off. Back at their vehicles, Lisa performed the shoe change in reverse before she slammed her trunk closed. As they were leaving, she pulled her car next to his. “I’m the listing and selling agent, and I was going to waive my commission considering it’s you, old family friend, yada, yada, yada. But since you almost gave me a heart attack
and
you want me to keep my mouth shut, you get to pay the normal six percent,” she said with a toss of her hair and an obviously fake smile.

“Six percent? Fine.” Then Rye looked down at her. “But for the privilege of seeing your reaction
and
for you keeping your mouth shut, I would have paid twelve,” he said, then smiled and winked.

Lisa glared at him before speeding off, leaving a trail of dust in her wake. Rye laughed out loud.

Minutes later he arrived at the guard station serving as the entrance to the Lakeview subdivision. John Bishop had conceived and developed the picturesque neighborhood overlooking the lake almost thirty years ago. Rye’s aerospace-engineer father and elementary-schoolteacher mother built their home here when Rye was eight. They were the second family to move in after the Bishops.

He wasn’t thrilled with the skinny kid next door but made do since he had no one else to play with. Eventually he and Kyle forged a friendship. Whatever concept he imagined, Kyle could make it a reality. Engineer and builder. A yin-and-yang relationship grew, and together they produced things like model airplanes, replica buildings with working elevators, and many other contraptions that cluttered and possibly endangered their parents’ homes over the years.

In fact, their similar interests led them to creating realistic prototypes that, along with good grades, landed them both scholarships at MIT. Later, a kid named Logan Tisdale moved to the street, and the duo became a trio, but Rye and Kyle remained as close as brothers. Aside from chasing coeds, neither of them lost focus of their technical gifts and did well in their respective careers. After working for other renowned firms to develop a different prospective, Kyle had toiled through the ranks at his father’s commercial construction company and took the helm this past year. Rye had enjoyed a challenging and lucrative career with his same employer since interning there his junior year in college.