Hip Hop Heat

by Tricia Tucker

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Hip Hop Heat

  A Ravenous Romance™ Red Carpet Romance™ Original Publication

  Tricia Tucker

  A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publication

  www.ravenousromance.com

  Hip Hop Heat

  Copyright © 2008 by Tricia Tucker

  Ravenous Romance™

  100 Cummings Center

  Suite 125G

  Beverly, MA 01915

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-000-8

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  After another lonely night spent zoning out in front of the TV, 28-year-old Lalana George decided to take a hot shower and go to bed.

  Alone.

  She sighed, tried Kenneth's number one last time, then — as his voicemail answered yet again - resisted the urge to throw the cell phone at the wall. Lalana was sick and tired of the on-again, off-again relationship she was stuck in with Kenneth, and longed for so much more than the occasional fuck he doled out whenever he saw fit.

  Take tonight, for instance. They were supposed to go out to dinner, catch a movie in nearby Lomita, then come back to her place in Carson; where she planned to give him a taste of just how good she was.

  Lalana was confident a taste wouldn't be enough for Kenneth, and spent most of the afternoon fantasizing about the many different ways she wanted him to enter her: so deep, so warm.

  But here she was, two hours after their planned date (admittedly her idea), still waiting for him. Lalana seethed with anger and desire. Kenneth, meanwhile, couldn't even answer his phone.

  Showered and exhausted, Lalana lay naked across her queen-sized bed. Her mind raced angrily through the night's events: from plotting the date, to being stood up, to being unable to reach Kenneth at all. Eventually Lalana's mind wandered to her libido. God, she was horny.

  Lalana remembered the sex toys she kept hidden beneath her bathroom sink. With a renewed sense of purpose and determination, she rushed to the kitchen for a glass of wine.

  "Who says I need a man to get off?" she asked aloud, carrying her full wine glass to the bedroom. Warm droplets of water fell from Lalana's wet hair, sprinkling her breasts and lower back. Her nipples hardened.

  Lalana dimmed the lights and turned on soft music to complete the mood, then retrieved her toys from the bathroom. Everything in place, she pulled a full-length mirror away from her closet door and closer to her bed. Lalana had found watching herself masturbate was just the trick to put her over the edge.

  With the mirror angled just right, Lalana hoisted her cinnamon-colored naked body onto a mountain of pillows atop the bed. Long legs spread wide, she adjusted herself before using moistened fingers to tap her neatly shaven pussy.

  Within moments Lalana felt herself come alive; and anxiously pried her lips apart with those same slender fingers. The sheer sight of her glazed flesh in the mirror triggered something sensual in Lalana's brain.

  "Oooh," she cooed, imagining an invisible lover who might respond with a slow, deep hip thrust.

  Lalana grabbed her vibrator with her other hand and eagerly penetrated herself with enough force to send a shiver up through her core. Rough and tough was Lalana's preference when it came to getting it on. She massaged her full breasts while penetrating herself again and again.

  With the vibrator nestled deep inside of her, Lalana tightened her muscles, convulsed, and released. She closed her eyes and imagined the fingers squeezing her taut nipple belonged to anyone but herself. The smell of her own wetness tickled Lalana's senses even more.

  "Ssshit." Lalana bit down on her lip while pushing the firm silicone stud even deeper. She contracted, using her muscles as a silky velvet trap to held the device tight and secure. Lalana tingled with pleasure as her senses kicked into overdrive. She was sloppy wet. Her toes curled while the toy buzzed inside of her. The more it moved, the hungrier she became.

  The hand Lalana used to palm her breast worked vigorously. She squeezed, released, squeezed again, then pushed her nipple toward her mouth. She sucked and suckled it the way men had done before her, then held the erect nipple between her teeth, biting down. The move sent a sensation swirling into a perfect combination of pleasure and pain. She knew she needed more.

  After moving the vibrator back and forth through her wet pussy a bit longer, Lalana beat at her opening with the toy. The sensation caused her to squeeze her eyes shut and yelp with sheer ecstasy. Her lips trembled.

  With toes dug deep into the sheets, Lalana tightened her cheeks, wiggled her hips, and used the vibrator to slap her silky slit again before shoving the steel-like rod back inside.

  "Oh, God!" she screamed. It felt so good; so real - as though the toy was actually a powerful man who knew exactly how to please her. Lalana closed her eyes and imagined MC ROC, her favorite rapper.

  "Make me come, Daddy, make me come," she begged of her fantasy. Lalana wiggled her hips. Then, with careful precision and saturated fingers, she pulled back the hood shielding her now-swollen clit. Lalana took a peek in the mirror, watching as she used the silicone muscle to massage her throbbing lips.

  It felt real. It felt good.

  Her body temperature rose as this feeling threatened to overwhelm her. She longed for a sturdy tongue to lap her unruly, pink button into submission. But Lalana had grown accustomed to using what she had; and for the time being, what she had worked just fine.

  With these thoughts in mind and her pink button double its normal size, Lalana flicked the vibrator's switch to its fastest speed and set it against her inflated clit. The vibrations tingled her to her core.

  "Uh, uh, uh," she panted.

  The euphoria washing over Lalana fluttered in waves, rushing through her veins with unparalleled speed. Lalana's legs trembled, her lips quivered, and her eyes rolled back into her head. This, she decided, was exactly what she needed. The release as her pussy's walls shook was so intense, so overwhelming, she decided she had done far better than any man could have.

  Chapter Two

  "Look at this." Lalana wrinkled her nose as squished the skin on her thigh together for her friends. "See, how it looks like cottage cheese?"

  Lisa and Tina, both close enough to smell hints of the Ocean Breezes body wash Lalana had used in the shower, looked perplexe
d as they stared at their friend's thigh.

  "I don't know, maybe it's just me. I just don't think it's all that bad," Lisa said, running her hand along Lalana's leg.

  "Me either," Tina added. The girls, friends since their days at Long Beach State University, had very different personalities that came together to form a perfect trio. Tina was peacemaker; often softening Lisa's straightforward, abrasive comments and opinions. Lalana was the sensitive one; second-guessing herself in nearly all decisions, and quietly suffering in silence when Lisa's comments hit too close to home.

  The women met after all three were rejected from the same sorority. They became fast friends. Lalana attended Long Beach on scholarship. She grew up in Texas and moved to Los Angeles with her mother, who followed an old boyfriend to the city after Lalana finished middle school. Lisa and Tina were California natives. In the five years since college graduation, Lalana, Lisa and Tina remained close. They lived near each other and shared in each other's struggles as strong, single women.

  Lalana grabbed another chunk of her thigh, "How could you not think this is bad?" She pulled Lisa's hand to the new section she held. "It makes my stomach churn just to look at it. Even when I don't: Just knowing it's there makes me sick." Lalana sighed.

  Tina pulled back and sucked her teeth. She brought her wine glass to her lips. "I think it's all in your mind," she said before taking a sip. "That's why I don't like watching this shit with you." Tina motioned toward the TV.

  It had been several days since Lalana's evening of excellent masturbation; and the great solo sex - in addition to having her best friends around - renewed her. The wine flowed steadily for more than an hour before Lalana pulled up several episodes of "Doctor 90210" on the Style Network. The show gave an uncensored glimpse of people's plastic surgery procedures.

  "Whaa?" Lalana protested. "I've been wanting lipo way before I started watching this show. I used to have an old pickle jar in college that I saved money in for my procedure."

  Tina and Lisa exchanged glances before looked at Lalana. Smirking, Lisa chimed in. "In all the years I've known you, and it's been quite a few, I ain't never heard you say shit about no damn lipo. Next thing you know, you'll want a boob job."

  Lalana grabbed her breasts, shook them a bit and laughed. "Girl, puh-lee-ze! I think I got that department covered." The girls giggled.

  Hours passed. The friends downed more glasses of wine while gawking intermittently at the graphic TV show.

  "You know," Lisa said, "the 'before and after' shots make the procedures seem almost tempting; but I don't know if I'd feel comfortable going under the knife."

  "If I had a doctor like him, I think I could," Tina countered, pointing a wine glass at the Brazilian doctor on the program, who was in the middle of inserting two silicone implants into a woman's body.

  "Eeewwww," Lisa frowned.

  "They just make it all look so easy," Lalana said longingly. She felt due for some kind of drastic makeover.

  "That's easy to you?" Lisa asked incredulously. "You notice how they don't show us these people's recovery."

  Lalana ignored her. "Maybe I should get a weave, you know, like Beyonce's. I mean think about it - hair running all down to my hips."

  "There's nothing wrong with you," Lisa said.

  "I'd get a boob job," Tina admitted. She was a buyer for Macy's and often complained about the way her own clothes fit - or didn't - as a result of her A-cup breasts. She was also a wiz on the sewing machine, often creating unique outfits of her own.

  "The problem is, once you get one thing done, you get addicted," Lisa said. "First it's your boobs; then your stomach - next thing you know, you trynta' get a rib removed. Not to mention taking out a second mortgage to pay for all of that mess." Lisa was an accountant for a small homebuilder.

  "I just know I need to do something," Lalana said. "Maybe I don't need lipo. But I feel like a change would do me good."

  "Why?" Lisa asked. "Don't tell me Kenneth is trippin' again."

  Lalana didn't respond. She had promised herself it was over with Kenneth. And as far as she was concerned, there was nothing wrong with wanting a makeover. Maybe her girlfriends were right; maybe she didn't need to go under the knife. But she knew for sure she needed some kind of change or excitement.

  Lalana's life had become lame at best. She went to work at a PR job she hated in spite of being quite good at; came home, and occasionally enjoyed happy hour with the girls. At times Lalana was so bored, she started people-watching, trying to guess what strangers' lives might be like.

  Hers, Lalana decided, had boiled down to one humdrum day after another. "I just feel like I'm in a rut," she told her friends. "I don't know how to explain it."

  "Well, I dunno what to tell you," Lisa said, "except that going under the knife is a bit drastic."

  "Maybe to you," Lalana defended.

  "Yeah, you're right about that." Lisa leaned forward. "Maybe to me. But I'll tell you what you need." Lisa sat staring for a moment, studying Lalana for the right diagnosis. "You need some real good dick." Lalana gasped as Lisa continued. "I mean it! You need a good, spine-tingling fuck. I guarantee you'll get a whole new outlook on life."

  The room was silent except for a narrator on "Doctor 90210." Then, Lalana began to laugh. The other girls joined in. Soon they were hysterical.

  Lalana had no way of knowing just how much her life was about to change.

  Chapter Three

  Lalana's panties were soaking wet the whole drive to Capitol Records in Hollywood.

  Two weeks had passed since the wine-and-plastic-surgery-show afternoon with her friends; and everything, at least for Lalana, had changed.

  A few days after the trio had hung out, Lisa had been at Lalana's again watching TV with her friend. An hour into channel surfing, Lalana's phone rang.

  "Ms. Lalana George, please," the caller said.

  "This is she," Lalana responded, speaking in her most professional-sounding voice.

  "My name is Jennifer Price. I'm with Capitol Records, home of double-platinum rap mega-star MC ROC. Did you enter the 'Party with a Rapstar' contest?"

  "OHMYGOD!"

  "Oookay, I'll take that as a yes!" Jennifer said, dryly.

  "OHMYGOD!" Lalana cried even louder. "Are you for real?"

  "Ms. George, you've just won an all-expenses-paid weekend with MC ROC himself!"

  Lalana thought she was about to pass out. MC ROC was her favorite artist, and her favorite masturbatory muse. "You better not be shittin' me!" she rasped. "Wait, is this Tina?"

  Lisa pulled her attention away from BET and turned to Lalana.

  "OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD!" Lalana cried, putting her hand over the phone's mouthpiece. "Lisa, you are not gonna believe this shit!"

  "Whaaat?" her friend hollered back, irritated.

  Lalana struggled to calm herself, but the excitement was overwhelming. She noticed Jennifer was no longer talking on the other end of the phone.

  "Okay, Okay, I'm good, I'm cool," Lalana said, taking a deep breath. "Ma'am, you still there?" she asked, regaining her composure.

  "Yes, I am. I'd like to give you information about where you can go to claim your prize."

  "My prize! Okay, breathe, breathe," Lalana coached herself. She listed as Jennifer rattled off the necessary information.

  "Okay, July 3rd, Capitol Records, before 5, driver's license, okay got it, I got it," Lalana repeated. "Yes ma'am! Yes!" Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. She paced the room; the nervous energy was all but killing her.

  The conversation finally over, Lalana took another deep breath and walked to the sofa where Lisa sat. She'd been watching "106 and Park" on BET. And who else was performing but MC ROC!

  "Did he do his thing yet?" Lalana asked, hoping she hadn't missed his performance.

  Lisa shook her head no. Lalana recognized a strange glance, and knew it was time to dish.

  "Okay, okay, lemme' chill for a sec," Lalana said, still trying to wrap her mind around her great news. Sh
e couldn't believe she had won a date with the most popular rapper in the country.

  "Bitch, you got two minutes to pull yourself together then tell me what the hell is going on!" Lisa snapped.

  Lalana held up a hand, closed her eyes, and shook her head slowly. "Okay, okay." Her eyes snapped open and her face broke out into a wide grin. She stared Lisa straight in the eye. "I just won the 'Party with a Rap Star' contest!"

  Lisa's eyes grew wide. Her mouth fell open.

  "Bitch, what?!"

  Lalana shook her head.

  "What is it? What's the contest?" Lisa screamed.

  "'Party with a Rap Star.' Winner gets a weekend with some famous artist. I won a few days with MC ROC!"

  "You didn't!"

  "Okay," Lalana said, "if I didn't, then why am I going to Capitol Records on Hollywood and Vine two weeks from today?"

  Lisa jumped up from the sofa and blasted the volume on the TV. Soon both women were singing every word of MC ROC's latest hit.

  "Some say it's the way I grab them hips/others swear it's the way I lick them lips..." Lalana sang along.

  "Either way I keeps it hot," Lisa joined in, "chicks linin' up to get what I got..."

  The two sang the chorus together: "I'm MC ROC/12 thick inches strong/Come to me/I'm workin' you all night long/Yeah shorty I'm the real deal/I'm truly hung/I'm a freak for real/bring ya game face 'cause, you buckin' up against steel..."

  Lisa pressed the mute button on the remote and turned to Lalana. "Girl, it just hit me!" she squealed.

  "What?" Lalana asked.

  "Lemme go wit' you!" Lisa cried. "We could rock his world together, you know, tag team him. Remember, just the other day when his song came on the radio and we were talking about whether he could really go all night long like he brags about? Girl, we could do this shit!"

  Lalana looked at her. She didn't want to hurt her girl's feelings, but the woman who called told Lalana to come alone.

  "Look, I am not trying to mess this up," she told Lisa. "You just gon' have to live through me 'cause they said I had to roll solo on this one. Besides, you know I'll come back and tell all his business!"