Black Lace Read online

Drake was pleased that she’d responded so temptingly. Lacy Green was a very passionate woman, and he could hardly wait to explore that passion to the fullest. He kissed her and said boldly, “Let’s eat, and I’ll make you come again later….”

  Lacy dissolved in response to the sultry promise and to the heat blazing in his dark male eyes.

  Drake was hard as a steel beam as he watched her slowly fix her bra and redo her buttons. He handed her one of the Coney containers. She took it out, added chili, and took her first bite. The suggestiveness of her action was not lost on him or his manhood. “Maybe I should have gotten something less—phallic?”

  She smiled like a siren, then looking him in the eye, slowly took another slow bite of the dog.

  “You’re playing with fire, Miss Thing.” His manhood had flared like the Fourth of July.

  She used the tip of her pink tongue to catch a spot of chili on the corner of her mouth, then responded to his words with playful innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” before taking another slow and deliberate bite of the dog.

  “All right,” he warned, chuckling softly. “Just for that, I’m going to make you scream next time around.”

  The sweet threat made Lacy’s knees turn to pudding, but with her chin raised she said haughtily, “I’ve never screamed in my life.”

  “You will when I’m done with you,” he promised, with eyes that stoked her temperature even higher. “Just wait.”

  Shimmering with anticipation, Lacy finished her Coney. She’d never played sexy word games with a man before, and certainly not with Wilton. Sex had always been about him, and because she’d been so young, it never occurred to her that there might be other ways of going about it. They’d certainly never teased each other this way. Wilton had been about wham, bam, thank you ma’am, and when he was done, the sex was done, too. He hadn’t cared about her needs because he didn’t think she had any. These few encounters with Drake seemed to be proving him wrong. Drake’s kisses and touches had set off something blooming inside that had her so antsy and hot, she was having trouble keeping still. Could he really make her scream? She’d always thought reactions like that happened only in X-rated movies and romance novels. Now she wasn’t so sure, and the scandalous parts of herself that he’d brought to life were anxious to know the truth. She looked his way and found him watching her with a smoky, knowing gaze that set her heart to thumping.

  Drake saw her look go chasing off and he smiled malely. Her mixture of innocence and sultriness was so tempting, it was hard for him to keep his seat and eat when what he wanted to do was make her scream. “You ready for your cobbler?” he asked when she finished that naughty Coney dog.

  “Let me check on this report first. It’s taking forever for the computer to do its thing.”

  He took a sip of his orange Faygo and walked over and stood behind her chair while she peered at the screen. “What’re you working on?”

  “Metro Metals.”

  Lacy saved the results to six disks, then went back out to the dark outer office and clicked on a few lights. The report was fifteen pages long, and she needed at least ten copies. She didn’t want to still be printing pages this time tomorrow on her old, slow machine, so she’d used Ida’s and Janika’s printers in the hope of making the job go faster.

  She didn’t know he was behind her until the heat of his body gently warmed her back. As the printers churned, his surgeon’s hands gently kneaded the tiredness in her shoulders, causing her head to drop in gratitude. He continued his slow dance on the tense muscles, and she purred. “You’re very good at this, Your Honor….”

  He placed a soft kiss on her jaw. “These hands are insured for 2.5 mil. Want to see why?”

  She smiled in the haze resettling over her senses. “You don’t have a modest gene in your body, do you?”

  “None of the Vachon men do…. I told you, we’re special.”

  His hands slid from her shoulders and wordlessly turned her around to face him. When he lowered his mouth to hers, they began again; kissing, nibbling. Fueled by mutual desire, hands began to roam as they both sought to touch and explore. The hot kisses he trailed down her throat made her head fall back, and the faint scents of her skin spurred him on. This time when he freed her breasts, he feasted slowly, fully; making her nipples blossom and answer to his scandalous Vachon finesse. She was glad her hips were braced against the edge of Ida’s desk because the solid support kept her from melting to the floor.

  Drake recaptured her lips and spent an inordinate amount of time playing, teasing, and inviting. His palm moved up and down her hip, squeezing, circling, then over the round curves of her behind. The warmth of her skin radiated against his palms, making him want to find the source of that heat. Not breaking the kiss, he filled his hands with her ripe hips and pressed his need against her. She answered him with a slow lusty rhythm that tantalized him into joining in.

  With him burning hot and hard against her thighs, and his hand roaming erotically over the front of her skirt, Lacy shuddered in response. Her legs parted of their own accord, and he took full and exquisite advantage; touching, exploring, making her croon her pleasure. She’d never had a man do her this way. Never.

  Drake thought she was the hottest little thing this side of the international border. He pushed the skirt up and froze with delight at the tantalizing sight of the sexy little black garter belt holding up the equally sexy stockings. When he spotted the black thong hidden between, he didn’t think it possible for him to get any more aroused, but he was. In fact, he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to keep himself from going over the edge.

  Lacy leaned up and kissed him softly, meaningfully. “Problems?”

  He slid his hands over the bare skin above the stockings and returned her kiss. “No ma’am. Do you dress like this all the time?”

  She smiled and leaned back to look into his face. “Why? Don’t you like it?”

  He teased an expert finger over the center of her soul and she gasped.

  He chuckled lowly. “Oh, yes. Very much. Do you like this…?”

  His “this” made her legs wobble, then widen so he could play. Her response was a strangled whisper. “Very much.”

  Drake was using every bit of discipline he’d learned to keep from lying her down on the desk and taking her until the sun rose. Never in his life had he expected to find such a visual treat beneath the conservative skirts of Lacy Green. Standing in front of him with her skirt raised and her legs encased in that sex queen gear made him want to fall to his knees and pay her the ultimate tribute, but he couldn’t stop touching her, stroking her, teasing her. He also couldn’t turn away from the passion on her face because he was the one causing it. “You ready to scream now…?”

  Lacy knew that the answer was yes; she was three-quarters of the way to orgasm now. She knew how scandalous she must look with her bra undone, her skirt up, and her legs wide, but she didn’t care as long as he didn’t stop.

  He slid in a delicious finger and she groaned. Her eyes closed and her body tightened around the sweet invasion. “Drake…”

  He bent to take a nipple into his mouth. “What, baby?” His wicked tongue made a slow circle around the bursting bud while the finger sensually impaling her began to move in and then slowly out.

  “Lord…” she whispered.

  Lacy answered the rhythm without shame. He was watching her with glittering eyes, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the heat this man had built between her thighs and holding onto it for as long as she could.

  But she was too inexperienced and he was too good. When he slid another finger inside and began to brand her with his own special magic, her body exploded. The world-shaking orgasm broke over her like waves against a sea wall, and she was shuddering and screaming into his suit-covered shoulder to keep from being heard by her mother in Georgia.

  Lacy came back to herself seated on his lap in Ida’s chair. When she met his eyes, he was smiling. “Now, what we
re you saying about never screaming?”

  She dug him playfully in the ribs. “Nobody likes a braggart, Your Honor.”

  He chuckled, and she let him cuddle her closer. Lacy realized that being held this way felt so natural and right it was almost scary; scary in the sense that she could start learning to like this.

  He told her, “Next time, though, we need a bed. I was this close from taking you on this desk. Not that I wouldn’t mind, but the first time should be on a bed.”

  The visual of making love on a desk warmed her cheeks, but she tossed back anyway, “How do you know there will be a next time?”

  His big hand slid up her thigh to the swollen throbbing place still echoing from the sensual explosion, and began to play. She growled softly and her head fell back.

  “That’s why,” he told her in a voice as soft as his touch. “Need another example?”

  Lacy’s hips began to slowly circle in response to his wicked coaxing. “No…”

  “Sure?” His free hand went to work on her still damp nipples.

  The sensations from the hand above and the wicked one below made her breathe out, “Yes.”

  Drake kissed her longingly. “Good.”

  Lacy let herself enjoy the moment for a bit longer, then reluctantly dragged herself away from his spell-casting hands and lips. “I need to check the printers.”

  He nodded. She stood and righted her clothes while he watched, his handsome faced as pleased as a maharajah. Lacy wondered if the pulsing between her legs was ever going to stop. Shaking her brain to get it back in the game, she went to check on the reports.

  The printers were done. She and Drake collated the pages and placed them in labeled folders. The report was ready for tomorrow’s presentation.

  “Thanks for your help,” she said.

  He was standing over by the windows, arms folded and with a look in his eye that reminded of what they’d shared. “Any time,” he said. “Ready to head out?”

  “Let me clean up this stuff we left, first.”

  The two of them gathered up the remains of their dinner and placed the now empty boxes in the trash. “We never ate the cobbler,” she said.

  He shrugged. “That’s okay, the dessert we had was better anyway.”

  Once again heat came to her cheeks and she dropped her eyes.

  “Am I embarrassing you?” he asked with a soft laugh.

  “A little bit, I guess.”

  He walked over and put his arms around her. He kissed the top of her twisted hair. “Sorry. Part of my nature.”

  She looked up. “More of the Vachon charm?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  “No shame in your game?”

  “Not a bit.” Then he added, “Not a lot in yours either, Miss Garter Belt.”

  Lacy dropped her head against his chest. “It’s just underwear. If I’d known ahead of time that we were going to…you know, I’d have probably put on something different.”

  “Oh, no. It’s too late to be changing up now. I’ve already seen your act and I can’t wait for round two.”

  “You are outrageous.”

  “Me? I wasn’t the one screaming the building down.”

  She had to laugh. “Quit picking on me. I’m kinda new at this.”

  “And I kinda like that.”

  They studied each other for a long smile-filled moment, then he said, “Let’s go. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Downstairs in the deserted parking lot, Lacy took out her keys and freed the locks. There were lights flooding the space but because it was so late her car was the only one around. She opened the door and tossed her briefcase and purse on the passenger seat. “Thanks again for dinner and dessert.”

  “Any time. I’d kiss you except there are cameras down here and I don’t want us to wind up on the eleven o’clock news.”

  “Me either.” But she wanted one more kiss, one more feel of his arms around her.

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Their eyes were locked. They both read each other’s hunger.

  “Good night, Drake.”

  “’Night, baby. Drive safe.”

  She nodded and got in. With a wave, she and the coupe roared off. Drake stood and watched until the taillights disappeared down the ramp.

  Twelve

  Lacy was in the tub soaking away the day and grinning at the memories of Drake’s loving when the phone rang. It was Drake.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She used her toes to raise a fluffy cloud of the scented bubbles. “Hey back. Are you home?”

  “Yep. Did I wake you?”

  “Nope. I’m soaking in the tub.”

  “With or without the garter belt?”

  She smiled. “None of your business.”

  They spent the next forty minutes talking, laughing, and flirting back and forth. She had to turn on the hot water a couple times to bring the temperature up but was enjoying herself too much to get out and dry off. They were in the middle of talking about the Piston’s chances of winning another NBA title when the call waiting beep sounded in Lacy’s ear. “Hold on a minute, Drake. I’ve got a beep.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Lacy clicked over. “Hello.”

  “This is Lenny Durant.”

  Lacy went still. “How’d you get my number?”

  “Not important. We found fourteen more barrels on the east side tonight and a shitload of tires on Belle Isle.”

  Lacy let out a very unladylike curse.

  “Exactly,” Lenny said. “I think we may have a lead, though. If it works out, I’ll be in touch.” And he was gone.

  Lacy clicked back. “Drake? You still there?”

  “Yeah. You okay? You sound kinda shaky.”

  “That was Lenny Durant,” she told him, still confused over him having her home number.

  “What did he want?”

  “To let me know that his people have found more barrels, on the east side this time, and somebody dumped a big load of tires on Belle Isle.”

  Drake hissed a curse.

  “Yeah, but how did he get my home number?”

  “You didn’t give it to him, I take it.”

  “No.”

  “Then that’s a good question.”

  “Well, I’ll ask him again when I see him. He said he might have a lead on who’s doing the dumping, but he didn’t give a name. Just said he’d be in touch.”

  “Okay. If he calls back, let me know. In the meantime I need to make some calls on the barrels and get hold of HazMat again.”

  “I’ll call them and meet you back downtown in about thirty minutes. This is my job, you know.”

  “I know, but there’s not much you can do besides watch.”

  “What about canvassing the neighborhood to see if anybody saw anything?”

  “Police can handle that for now.”

  “Drake—”

  “Lacy, I appreciate your dedication, but it’s okay if you’re not riding the first horse into the battle on this one. Believe me, if anything jumps off that needs your immediate attention, I promise I’ll call.”

  “Doesn’t matter the time.”

  “Even if it’s four A.M.”

  “Okay.”

  “You sound skeptical.”

  “Because I am.”

  “Don’t be. If I needed you here, believe me, you’d be here.”

  “All right.”

  “I’ll fill you in when you get to work in the morning.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You get some sleep.”

  “You too.”

  “Good night, baby,” he said softly.

  Her tone matched his. “’Night, Drake.”

  When Lacy got to work the next morning, no sooner did she step in the outer door than Ida appeared and said in a rush, “The Free Press wants you to call them, so does the Detroit News. Channels 2, 7, 4, and 9 over in Windsor want to do interviews.”<
br />
  Lacy stopped. “What for?”

  “The barrels that turned up last night. The papers are calling it an epidemic and want to know what the city plans to do about it.”

  Ida handed Lacy the morning Free Press. Sure enough, there was an article on page one titled: DUMPING SPREE SPREADS. Lacy gave the paper back and started the walk to her office. “Do you know how Lenny Durant got my home number?”

  “BAD’s Lenny Durant?”

  “The one and only.” Lacy set her briefcase on her desk. “My home number is unlisted and I never put it on the business cards that I hand out.”

  “You know, some of his people were arrested a few months back for hacking into the EPA’s computers. Maybe they did something like that to get your number.”

  Lacy didn’t know, but she planned to find out when she saw him again.

  Ida asked, “Why did he call?”

  “To tell me about the new barrels on the east side and the tires somebody dumped on Belle Isle. Has the mayor’s office called down so we’ll know what to say to the media?”

  “Rhonda said to refer all the interview requests to the office.”

  “That’s easy. Anything else on the stove?”

  “Yes, this.”

  Ida handed Lacy a piece of paper. On it was a grainy picture of a man in a ski mask holding a gun. Beneath the picture were the words, Is this the Mayor, a Dope Buster?

  “Where’d you get this?”

  “It was stapled to the light pole in front of my house this morning. I know it wasn’t there last night when I got back from playing cards because Herbert or I would’ve seen it.”

  Janika added. “Everybody in the building’s talking about it. I guess whoever printed these is putting them up all over the city.”

  “What’s a Dope Buster?”

  So Ida explained.

  “Really, and whoever put up these flyers thinks Drake is part of these Dope Busters?”

  “Evidently.”

  “He wouldn’t be involved with something like this.”

  Ida said, “Doesn’t matter. The real people of Detroit, myself included, wish we had more folks like the Dope Busters. Back when the Busters were rolling every night, people cheered when they took down crack houses in their neighborhoods.”