“I tried not to wake you,” she said, her voice strained and husky. Probably from so much damn screaming.
“I knew the instant you left the bed.” He stretched out behind her on the lounge and wrapped his sinewy arms around her waist. He’d pulled on one of the fluffy white robes as well, but it was no barrier to his hard cock pressed against the curve of her ass. Lacey closed her eyes and leaned back against him as she basked in his warmth. He put one hand inside her robe and massaged the weight of her breast. With his other hand, he cupped her hungry sex, already slick and ready for him. She gasped when he pushed his long fingers into her wet sheath and rested his thumb on her needy clit.
Later in the huge slate-tiled shower, the water streamed over his shoulders, and he grunted with each upward stroke as he pounded into her. Legs wrapped around his waist, she held on to his shoulders for dear life. He gripped her ass as he slammed his dick into her as if he hadn’t worked the hell out of her pussy just hours before.
“Yes, Rye, yes,” she cried. Her vaginal muscles clenched him as she climaxed.
Traitor.
Chapter Nine
“No fucking way are you going anywhere dressed like that,” Rye gritted when he eyed the cleavage displayed over her push-up bra.
Knowing it would save an argument, Lacey went back up the stairs and donned a thin cotton camisole to cover her girls. The Thymes was catering Logan’s birthday party, but since she was also an invited guest, she decided not to wear her usual work attire. Instead, she was taking Lisa’s fashion advice by being “daring” with beige-and-white striped seersucker Bermuda shorts and a matching long-sleeved jacket secured by a wide, waist-cinching leather belt. Four-inch strappy sandals and gold accessories completed the look. Obviously it was too much for Mr. McKay.
“Are you happy now?” she asked as she descended the stairs.
He nodded his approval, and it was all she could do not to roll her eyes even though her secret parts got a little heated at his macho display.
When they arrived at the venue, the bar staff and Thymes employees were on-site. Monica, looking fabulous in a fitted red jumpsuit, greeted them and gave Rye a sly, knowing grin. Lacey derailed Monica’s conversation attempts by sending her to supervise the kitchen. The last thing she wanted was Monica stalking Rye for information about their bedroom habits. He took the hint and went to help one of the guys arrange the serving tables. After going over the pre-event checklist, Lacey was satisfied they were ready.
Partygoers started arriving, and by the time Logan made his late appearance, the celebration was in full swing. Soon the place was filled to capacity with genuine well-wishers and opportunists alike.
Logan Tisdale was one of the most talked-about quarterbacks in the league and had the fans and the endorsements to prove it. As far as Lacey was concerned, he was just the boy around the corner who’d followed his dream of becoming a professional football player.
She was looking forward to having a good time, but as the owner of the company catering the party she couldn’t completely get out of work mode. Periodically, she surveyed the standing-room-only crowd to assess the amount of food being consumed, but it also allowed her to be unobtrusive as she kept an eye out for Rye. She hadn’t seen him much since the room became so crowded, and she felt bereft. It was as if she was missing something vital when he was too far away for too long. She was busy supervising and coordinating tray refills with Monica, and Rye was just as busy helping in any way he could. Her staff responded to his request without question.
At first Lacey didn’t see him, but finally, the brightness of his blond hair in the dimly lit building caught her eye. On the second-floor balcony in the VIP area, he was talking to several of Logan’s teammates she didn’t recognize. As if he could feel her eyes on him, Rye looked down at her. Their gazes locked for a moment before he was sidetracked by the transformation of her nipples. They hardened; he grinned and winked. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.
Have mercy, he was potent.
His gorgeous smile and tall, sinewy frame heated her blood to a thousand degrees. He looked delicious in his sky-blue linen shirt with tailored navy slacks and jacket. He wore them so well she was relieved he was far away from the slew of underdressed, overprocessed gold diggers circling the lounge. In fact, there were no women in the VIP area, amazing considering Kyle was in the same general vicinity on the opposite end of the balcony. Normally where either Rye or Kyle wandered, a willing female wasn’t too far behind. Lacey noticed her brother had arrived alone, a first. He must have decided to shop from the plethora of free flesh at the party rather than bring his own.
Oddly, her brother hadn’t spoken to her, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, laughing and talking with Logan and some of Logan’s teammates, which was encouraging. Maybe he was reconciled with the fact she and Rye were together now. It didn’t matter as long as he stayed out of her business.
IF RYE DIDN’T know better, he’d think he had acquired an attention-deficit disorder. He simply could not concentrate on anything the guys around him talked about. The best he could do was nod every so often as the big brutes recapped highlights from their football games. He could give a shit. The only thing on his mind was Lacey. Earlier he was fine because she was within arm’s reach as they worked. Then he’d landed upstairs and hadn’t seen her for a while. The need to have her in his sight was riding him hard. It even superseded the unease of being at the same party with his best friend who hadn’t said a word to him. To his recollection, they’d never been this distant before. Upon his arrival, Kyle had acknowledged Rye’s head tilt with one of his own, but then made a point of going to a spot as far away as he could get. It was clear Kyle still wasn’t accepting any part of Rye and Lacey being a couple.
Rye took advantage of his bird’s-eye view from the balcony to find Lacey. Just as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, he caught sight of her. Through his rapt gaze, he relayed how much he wanted her, how damn good she looked, and what he was going to do to her later. He could tell by the pebbled buds on her sexy-as-fuck chest she got the message, and he laughed at her reaction. Then he had to look away. If he ogled her any longer, he’d be sporting an erection around a bunch of guys, and no fucking way was that happening. He lifted his beer in a quick salute to her and then turned to rejoin the conversation.
That was his intent anyway. The reality was he couldn’t stop glancing back down at her, his eyes dogging her every move. Those delectable long brown legs highlighted by those shorts and sex-me high heels kept him on the edge of arousal. To even pretend to care about the conversation going on around him was no use. He practically turned his back on everyone to watch her float around the bar as she attended to business. She smiled at guests, chatted with her staff, straightened, refilled, and reloaded at least a hundred times, the whole while looking serene and gorgeous.
She was polite when she ignored advances from men who approached her. Rye would’ve felt sorry for the poor saps if each denial didn’t inflate his ego so much. He chuckled under his breath. Lacey was his. Of course she didn’t realize to what extent yet, but she proved it each time she shot another horny bastard to the curb.
Good girl.
His good humor ended, though, when he watched as one idiot refused to move the hell on when she mouthed the word
no
. Rye balled his hands into fists, and his breathing changed as if he were preparing for battle. The only reason he wasn’t already by her side was because she would give him hell for taking over the situation, but he itched to send the guy’s teeth down his throat. By the third time she shook her head at the offensive loser, Rye had enough. He set his beer bottle onto a table and descended the stairs two at a time. One football player’s offer of help barely registered. Rye had to get to Lacey. Just as he approached, he slowed to an unhurried stride. With a deliberate calmness, he curved his arm around Lacey’s waist and clasped his hand on her hip.
“Everything all right, baby?”
Lacey nodded and then stepped closer to him.
Rye made eye contact with the drunken loser who hadn’t moved away. “You need someone to call a cab for you, buddy?” Rye asked, managing to keep his tone even. The man was obviously drunk off his ass.
“Buddy?” The man laughed as he rocked on unsteady feet. “How ’bout that! Buddy. Mighty white of you,” the loser mocked, almost keeling over in his drunkenness. “Surely that’s not the line you used to get this fine sister. You had to do better than that. Let me guess, she went for you because she knew you’d lick her between her—”
Rye closed his hand around the fucker’s windpipe with the intention of cutting airflow and any more hateful words. He didn’t exert as much pressure as he wanted to, but the guy’s eyes bulged, and he gasped for air like a fish long out of water. Two security guards appeared just as the man lifted his hands in an attempt to get free. Rye let him go. The big bouncers secured the man before leading him toward the exit.
A small crowd had gathered to witness the incident, but it couldn’t be helped. Knowing Lacey hated being the center of attention, he pulled her into his arms to shelter her from prying eyes. Tremors racked her body, revealing her fear and making him furious. Rye wanted to tear the guy to pieces, but he was more concerned about Lacey.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered, burying her face in his neck. He let out a deep breath when she wrapped both arms around his middle.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, and her arms tightened.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No. He just got on my nerves,” she replied.
“Don’t give him another thought. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re still shaking.” He gritted his teeth as he pulled her closer and breathed in her unique, citrusy scent. It acted as a balm to the rage making him want to chase down the fucker who dared offend his woman. Lacey would be mad as hell, though.
Chapter Ten
Lacey was resting her head against Rye’s shoulder, enjoying his closeness, when he tensed and cursed under his breath. She frowned and looked up to see her brother coming toward them. His face said it all. Kyle was furious.
“Get your damn hands off my sister,” Kyle growled and stepped closer. His chocolate-brown eyes were as dark as midnight.
Lacey felt Rye’s muscles coil tighter than a rattlesnake ready to strike. Kyle wasn’t the only one looking for a fight. Rye was probably still on edge after the earlier incident, which wouldn’t bode well for her brother. Judging by the amount of testosterone in the air, the make-nice ship had sailed.
“You come and fucking make me,” Rye responded through gritted teeth.
Lacey looked around and was relieved to see they weren’t already the center of attention. “Be quiet. Both of you. Do not say a word.”
She couldn’t believe these two best friends—classmates, roommates, brothers—were speaking to each other with such animosity. Like two dogs circling each other before a territory fight. Ridiculous. Rye was standing his ground, but there was no way Lacey wanted another scene. She cupped Rye’s cheek in her hand.
“Let me talk to him alone, okay?”
“You asking this mothafucka for permission to talk to me now?” Kyle practically barked.
Lacey turned toward her brother. “Shut it!”
“I’m not going anywhere. If he’s got a problem, he needs to take it up with me,” Rye stated in a hard voice.
“Please, Rye. I don’t want an altercation. I’m representing my company tonight too, and I don’t need anyone witnessing us acting like fools.”
“He will not disrespect you.”
“He’s my brother. He won’t hurt me.”
After a few tense heartbeats, Rye gave a sharp nod. “You’ve got ten minutes,” he said, then walked off the dance floor.
Lacey turned and tried to shoot daggers with her eyes at her brother. “Follow me. You will not embarrass me in front of all these people.”
Lacey preceded Kyle out of the crowded room and headed toward the kitchen. As soon as the stainless doors closed, she turned on him. “What the hell is your problem? And how much have you had to drink? You reek.”
“Me? You’re the one laying up with my best friend. And I haven’t had nearly enough to drink,” Kyle retorted. Gone was the ever-charming, indulgent big brother; he’d been replaced by a spoiled bully. His usually handsome, playful features were contorted with anger and maybe hurt. Lacey was not in the mood to care which.
“And what does my choice have to do with you? In case you haven’t noticed, I am a grown woman, and you are my brother, not my father. I don’t need Dad’s permission to see someone, and I don’t need yours.”
A disbelieving look masked Kyle’s chestnut-brown face. “But
McKay?
Lacey, you know how he is with women. You know good and damn well you’re nothing more than another piece to him. He’ll play with your head for a little while; then he’ll move on to the next one in line. I don’t want any motherfucker messing with my sister.”
Lacey’s breath hitched in her throat, and a hot knife seemed to slice right through her chest. It wasn’t just because such cruel words were hurled by her brother, but because they were true. Kyle had said nothing she hadn’t already thought about. To have someone else reaffirm her fears was agonizing. All the doubts she’d felt about being with Rye rushed to the surface. She was in love with him, but what if she was temporary entertainment like all the rest? How long would it take for the thrill of their clandestine hookup to wane? What was the life span of a white man’s new fascination with toasty brown skin? Kyle’s words made her insecurities scurry around in her head like a windstorm, taunting her. Burning in its intensity. And she wasn’t going to let him do this to her.
“Wow. I didn’t know you had such a low opinion of me and my decision-making abilities,” she finally bit off.
He frowned. “What? Why would you say that? You’re one of the smartest people I know. But you’re my sister. I don’t want to see you hurt.”