Taste of Lacey (15 page)

“Oh, honey.” Her mother rubbed a tentative hand to smooth hair on Lacey’s head that wasn’t out of place. “You know, I have three babies. You may be in the middle of the bunch, but you’ll always be my first baby girl. Do you know that?”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way, but I would hope so,” she replied in a sullen voice.

“It’s my job to shelter you from hurt and harm, even if you’re not a child anymore. I’ve got a few years on you, and trust me when I say I’ve seen and learned enough to know you’ll get hurt. Your father hasn’t seen what I have.”

“I admit I was a little scared about being with Rye at first, but my feelings for him are real. The fact that we have different skin tones is inconsequential. I’d love for you to be happy for me, but if you’re not, it’s your loss.”

“Well, you’ve gone and done it, haven’t you?” her mother said as she placed her hands over Lacey’s clenched ones.

“What?”

“You’ve fallen in love with him.”

Lacey hesitated, but there was no use in denying the truth. Her mother would see through anything else anyway. “Yes.”

Her mother stood and grasped Lacey’s hand firmly in hers. “Come with me.

Lacey followed until they arrived at her mom’s home office. It was a term used in jest because very little actual work got done by her mother these days. She was still listed as the managing broker at the realty office, but Lisa pretty much called the shots. Lacey’s mother spent her time keeping her fifty-five-year-old body fit and fabulous, raising money for her pet charities, and arranging her Sunday luncheons.

“Have a seat,” her mother directed before unlocking the credenza behind the desk. She took out an aged brown leather photo album and then sat beside Lacey on the settee. Her fingers had a slight tremble as she opened the album to the first page.

If Lacey didn’t know better, she’d swear the two young, giggling girls in the photo were her and Monica, but the obvious time frame of the picture made it impossible. Plus, there was obviously a larger gap in age than the month separating Lacey and her cousin.

She scowled and peered closer. “Is that you and Aunt Maddie?”

“That’s us. Two peas in a pod. We’re six years apart, but we told each other everything.” Her mother paused, then gave a cheeky smile. “She even told me about sneaking off campus to see her boyfriend, Adam.”

Her mother flipped through more pages, and Lacey could practically see the years go by until she stopped on a sweet photo of a young lady in the arms of a handsome man, both of them wearing smiles a mile wide. “Is that Aunt Maddie?” Lacey asked, amazed. “Is he…white?”

Nodding, her mother turned another page. There were more photos of Maddie and her boyfriend, hugging, posing, and gazing at each other with a love that was almost tangible.

Oh my God.

“He’s Monica’s father.”

“Yes, baby. He’s Monica’s father and the love of Maddie’s life.”

“What happened, Mom?”

“They met and of course fell in love. They were both so happy, but so young and naïve. They had no better sense than to think his family would accept their relationship with open arms. Poor things.”

“What happened?”

“Maddie got pregnant. Adam wanted to marry her, said he would have asked her whether she was pregnant or not. Daddy was so hurt that his baby girl was expecting and had no diploma. And our mother—whew, Kathryn Bethea was fit to be tied. She was an educator, and she couldn’t believe her daughter was with child after all the talks and lectures about keeping it covered if the legs couldn’t stay closed. If you think Katie’s a handful now, you should have seen her then when she had youth on her side.

“Anyway, his parents knew about Maddie, and they forbade him to marry her. In fact, they wanted her to get rid of her baby. Adam wanted to elope, but his parents did everything they could to dissuade him, including disowning him. He couldn’t have cared less. I believe he really loved my sister. At some point, though, his parents must have worn him down, because one day he stopped coming around, and Maddie never saw him again. She was heartbroken. All because the governor’s son had dared bring home a black girl.”

“Governor?”

“Yep, of the good ol’ state of Georgia.”

“So how did Maddie end up with Uncle Chester?”

“He was a neighborhood boy who’d always been in love with Maddie. He didn’t care about her having another man’s child. After Adam left, Chester went to our parents and asked to marry Maddie, and they assumed he was the baby’s father. They agreed but stipulated she must finish college after the baby was born. Chester was a light-skinned man, so nobody could tell outright Monica wasn’t his. But my sister suffered so much because she fell in love with the wrong man.”

“Oh, Mom,” Lacey said. “So you hate Rye now? Surely you don’t think something like this would happen to me?”

“No, baby, I don’t hate Rye. In fact, I love him as if he were my own. I always have. What I hate is the situation. This is what happens when you pursue doing something
different
. It’s a new day, but it’s too reminiscent of another time, and the world hasn’t changed so very much. I’ve seen this same scenario start off good only to end badly and devastate everyone involved. I don’t want the same for my baby.”

“Mom, please…”

“With hindsight as a guideline, don’t you think our mother would have shielded Maddie from all the hurt and pain—and shame—she had to go through? Maddie ended up marrying Chester, a man she didn’t love. But to her credit, she did her best to make sure he was happy every single day until he was killed in the car accident. He was a good man.”

“But Katie didn’t seem to have a problem with me dating a white man. Since Aunt Maddie went through so much, I’d think she’d be even more against it than you are.”

“Because she and my father never knew about Adam.”

Lacey couldn’t believe her mother was telling her something this major. At times Aunt Maddie seemed to carry a quiet sadness, but Lacey thought it was grief over losing Uncle Chester. Now she knew the whole story.

“Aunt Maddie kept something so important from Katie and Grandpa? And now I have to keep it from Monica. I’m betraying her by even knowing about this.”

“I’ve been trying for years to get Maddie to tell Monica. I don’t want to be around if that child finds out from someone else, but Maddie refuses to talk about it.”

“What happened to Adam?”

Her mother lifted an elegant shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment. “We don’t know. Maddie tried to find him, but she had to give up after a while because she had a difficult pregnancy. And as you know, I was pregnant myself. Over time, she started to believe he didn’t want to be found.”

“But this is different, Mother; it’s not the sixties or even the nineties. I am a college-educated business owner who can support a child if I wanted to. And you’ve known Rye and his parents since he was a boy. Our families often eat at the same dinner table. Why are you comparing us to Aunt Maddie and Adam?”

Her mother sighed and placed the book on the desk. “Because as the old saying goes, the more things change, the more they say the same. At the end of the day, you’re still just a little black girl in love with a white boy, and you might end up hurt.”

Chapter Seventeen

The phone rang beneath the pillow Lacey clutched, and jolted her awake. It was Rye’s custom ringtone. Clearing her throat, she answered in what she hoped was a cheery voice. “Hello?”

“I’m home,” Rye drawled.

“Great,” she said, not wanting to give her sad state away to the person she’d been on pins and needles to see. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“I thought we’d go out to dinner.”

“Um, tonight?” It was Friday, and she was free, but the last thing she felt like doing was going out. “I’m not feeling very well,” she admitted.

“What’s wrong?”

“Rye, I’ll be fine, okay? How about we just see each other tomorrow?”
When my insides don’t feel like they’re trying to check out
. Her suggestion was greeted with complete silence. Had he hung up on her? “Rye?”

The keys jingled; then the dead bolt clicked right before she heard the footfalls of a tall, solid man with a big chip on his shoulder.
Oh, shit, he’d been outside the whole time.

Scrambling, she sat up on the sofa she’d been glued to for most of the day and tried make a run for it. Too late. Rye in all his fine, manly glory was standing over her with a stern look on his face. Her unusual attire of a fitted camisole with no bra paired with cutoff sweats and a tattered blanket should hint at her pitiful state. Her choppy ponytail should be another clue. She preferred her hair be intact unless she was taking a shower or in bed with him. He picked her up and, when she resisted, forced her to sit on his lap.

“Tell me what the hell is going on.”

Lacey glared at him and tightened her arms around her stomach.

“Ah, I see.” He smiled as he looked down at her. “Your period.”

“Don’t look so happy about it. You’re not the one whose body feels like it’s about to tear in two,” she huffed as a painful cramp rent her midsection.

He sighed and pulled her close to his hard chest. “Is it this bad every time?”

“Every twenty-eight days like clockwork,” she confirmed. “You just happen to be on the road every time.”

“Can you do anything to ease the pain?”

“Ally said I can get on birth control. Or get pregnant.”

He coughed. “Which did you choose?”

She twisted her head around so fast she almost got whiplash. “Seriously, Rye? We don’t even know what to do with ourselves, let alone a third person.” Although she wouldn’t admit it to him for a second, she’d imagined having his child, the thought as appealing as it was scary. Children were on her list, but she was just the provider of convenient, albeit very hot, sex to a sexy man, not his wife.

“So we’re going on birth control?”

Lacey rolled her eyes. He could have at least pretended not to be so excited at the thought of ditching prophylactics. Anyway, they’d still have to use condoms a whole month before the pill became effective.

“
We
aren’t doing a damn thing. But yes, I am.” She peered at him. “This is what we both want, right? We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

“Don’t worry, Lacey. I’ll always take care of you. I would never put you or myself at risk.”

The knot of worry in her chest unfurled. It was a big step to entrust her body to him even more than she already was, but she was ready. “I’m glad.”

“Are you taking anything for the cramps?”

“Aspirin. Ally called in something stronger to the pharmacy, but I haven’t felt like going to pick up the prescription.”

Rye scowled. “What about Monica or Lisa? Couldn’t either of them have dropped it by for you?”

“I’m sure they would have if I had asked,” she admitted, and then she thought about it. “Well, I’m sure Monica would have. Lisa is questionable.”

She cringed when he cursed softly; she thought she heard something like
damn woman
. For sure she heard
muleheaded
in there somewhere.

“Which pharmacy?”

She told him, and he left. He returned with a pharmacy bag in one hand and a multitude of Chinese takeout boxes in the other. The combination of him, the medicine, and a full stomach almost made her feel human again. This was an anomaly for her. Every day she took care of ten employees’ needs—physical, financial, mental, and emotional—and she did it without a second thought. Rye was taking care of her, and it was so sweet. If she hadn’t fallen for him already, she’d be head over heels right now.

Two hours later, she awoke and experienced an exhilarating lack of pain. At some point Rye had crawled behind her on the sofa and fallen asleep. He’d been wonderful, and she wanted to return the favor.

She slid to her knees onto the carpeted floor in front of the sofa and pulled at his shorts, anxious to have them out of the way. His cock hardened and lengthened before her eyes, making her feminine folds swell and moisten; she supposed out of commission didn’t mean broken.

She reached for the base of his magnificent tool and wrapped her fingers around him. At least she attempted to. One hand wasn’t enough to encompass the hard column, so she used the other one to help. With a wicked grin, she bent until her open mouth encircled the mushroom-shaped tip, and she smiled at his harsh moan.

Dipping her head, she sucked more of him into her mouth, taking his cues about how much suction to apply and when. Working the base with her hands in a massaging rhythm, she kept his cockhead in the shallow end of her mouth, sucking like it was a lollipop.

“Baby, you’ve got my head ready to explode,” he informed her, his breathing loud and ragged. She continued to lash her tongue against his cock but allowed her gaze to shift to his face for a moment. He looked agonized. His eyes, normally a bright blue, were a dark, turbulent navy with his arousal.

The power she wielded over him made her pussy contract and her clit quiver. She loved his reaction. Most surprising, she liked sucking his cock. For the hell of it, she crossed her arms and slipped her camisole over her head. Her globes bounced free and stopped swaying as the centers pointed at him. His guttural plea and pained expression in reaction to the sight of her breasts was almost comical, and she couldn’t help but laugh. She was on the right track. She cupped their heavy weight until they spilled over her hands, then pushed them together until they formed a tunnel around his thick, hard rod still wet from her mouth. As she’d hoped, he went crazy. She went to work.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled in a tortured voice. Over and over she lifted her torso up and down. In response, his hips jutted up, imitating the motion he’d make if he were buried to the hilt in her pussy. His jaw tensed, and he moved his mouth, but no sound came. With perfect aim, she swiped her tongue across the head of his cock.

“Lacey, ahh, I’m gonna come now,” he muttered, his voice almost incoherent. No sooner than the garbled words left his mouth did waves of hot cum spurt from him and land on her breasts. His agonized grunts and moans as he came made her clit spasm, and she came too.