“I don’t want to be whinny,” she said.
Quest leaned close to her against the railing. “From what I understand, it’s something wives tend to be,” he feigned discomfort when she punched his solid abs.
Her smile held sway, but briefly. “I miss him…Driggers…he was my family-like my father,” she sniffled, “it’s what I considered him. Except for County, he was my only family.’
“But that’s not true anymore, babe,” he pushed off the rail, came over to enfold her in his embrace. “I won’t pretend to have any insight into Drigger’s magic touch when it came to you,” he kissed the top of her head, “but I’ll spend the rest of my life perfecting my own.”
“That sounds very good,” she snuggled back into him, sensation jolting through her when he eased his hand down to cup her mound still hidden inside her pants.
“It’ll feel even better than it sounds,” he touted, his kisses drifting from her head to pamper the shell of her ear and her nape. He was content working her through her pants, but not for long.
Mick cried out into the early evening air when she felt his fingers against her bare flesh. His touch held the sweet deliberation of warm syrup. Eagerly, she allowed it to take her over a sensual incline.
With dusk fully in session there was little need to worry over an onlooker noticing what the newlyweds were up to. While Quest fully intended to have his wife nude and soon, he was then too maddened by desire to have her slake the intense craving she so easily ignited within him.
He pleasured her consistently until Mick felt passion-drugged. When he had what she considered being, an insane idea to relieve her of his touch, Mick gripped his wrist to keep his hand where she wanted it. Lazily, she rolled her head back across his chest and shamelessly freed her gasps and sensation-tortured cries into the wind.
Quest kept her happy with the two finger massage that sent orgasmic pressure steadily building inside her. His thumb launched a wicked play upon her clit, encircling the sensitive nub. He accommodated her by pressing down on it when her hands flexed over his wrist and she awkwardly rode the digits to find her release.
“Please,” she urged, hoping to encourage his cooperation when she angled her head back and up to kiss him.
Quest delighted in the gesture, kissing her with mind-melting intensity. Michaela moaned, a wavering moan that gave credence to how thoroughly aroused she was. She was so absorbed by the relentless drives from his tongue plundering her mouth, that she paid no mind to his free hand slowly working the Yoga pants from her hips and over the lush curve of her bottom.
Her next moan held more of a smothering undertone to the previous gurgling intensity. She felt the night air kissing newly bared flesh, below her waist and shivered in response to it and the distinctive sound of his zipper descending.
The kiss broke in tandem with Michaela feeling the unmatched delight of being filled, stretched and ravished when she and Quest became one. She rested her hand over Quest’s where his curved over the vine-entwined railing. Her head dipped, shielding her vision as curls tumbled forth.
“Christ Mick…” he groaned, wanting their impromptu love scene to last. He was equal parts frustrated and satisfied by her ability to drive him to the edge so powerfully. An approving smile curved his fantastic mouth seconds before he buried his handsome face in her hair.
He pummeled her with a relentless surge of beautiful thrusts that had them both groaning in shameless abandon. Supreme pleasure had its way and showed no signs of abating. Quest was as much aroused by the way her inner muscles fiercely clenched his cock as he was by the breathy cries she emitted every time he took possession of the haven that was his alone to explore.
Michaela had never felt more alive. Quest’s low, affected groans mainlined radiance through her veins as deftly as his powerful frame at her back enveloped her in a cocoon of security.
~~~
“How long will you keep the house?” Quest asked afterwards as they lay on the gazebo floor upon the tangle of clothes and soft vines.
Mick couldn’t open her eyes; she was still so very content. “Haven’t thought about it,” she snuggled her head into a more comfortable position against the broad expanse of his chest. “Not much reason to, I guess,” she raised her head, feeling him stiffen beneath her head, following a soft sudden rush of breath.
“Does that make you mad?” she asked.
“No. Just curious,” he tugged on one of her curls. “Why do you think you need to keep it? because of Driggers?”
“Giving it up…” she looked toward the house, golden lit against the night sky. “Makes it too real-the fact that he’s gone.”
Quest tugged, until she lay flush against him. He pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. “Keep it forever, then,” he ordered, kissing her again. “But you should know I plan to try like hell never to give you a reason to want to move back here.”
Laughter filtered through Mick and she glided the back of her hand across his smooth jaw, hard jaw. “I plan to try like hell never to give you a reason to want me to.”
They sealed the words with low laughter and commitments’ kiss.
~~~
The newlyweds returned to the house where they made love again in the shower and ordered take out Chinese made nicer as they dined by candlelight.
“The Shelanon book was my favorite,” Quest shared while popping the bottle cap on his second Heineken. He took a swig and then tilted the bottle in Michaela’s direction. “Why didn’t you put your picture on it?”
She shrugged, smiling as if suddenly shy. “It was about them, not me.”
“Understood, but a real let down for the reader, I have to say.”
She laughed, catching the playfulness in his uncommon stare. “A let down!”
“Hell yeah,” he gave a lazy shrug. “I was already a pretty big fan when I met you… knowing what you looked like,” he shrugged as though he were about to make an obvious point, “knowing what you looked like would’ve taken my adoration to another place entirely.”
She laughed again. “So you’re saying I could’ve been treated to a first-class trip to Seattle long ago?”
“Damn right.”
“Mmm…but then that wouldn’t have been because of my writing but my picture on the back.”
Quest winced teasingly, acknowledging that she’d correctly assumed his motives. “I’d have made time for discussing the book.”
“Right!” Her laughter rushed out more abundantly.
“Seriously- it would’ve been our pillow talk.”
The need for more laughter then was fueled by Michaela’s own amusement as well as the fact that her husband’s sense of humor was nearly as potent as his looks. “It would’ve been good conversation,” she boasted, stabbing a plump broccoli bud from the shrimp lo mein on her plate.
“The Shelanon story got a lot of buzz,” she pointed her fork in his direction. “I did a few book shows and interviews- you would’ve been able to see me then,” she reciprocated Quest’s actions when he winced again and snapped his fingers as if to signify regret of a lost moment.
Michaela shrugged. “The book was a success, but never rang with total triumph for me.”
“Why not?” Quest set his chin to his palm as he watched her.
“Never got the chance to talk to the family’s black sheep.”
“Hmph, they only had one? I’m impressed.”
“He made the other black sheep look gray from what I heard,” Mick spoke around the heap of noodles she’d shoveled into her mouth. “Jacob Shelanon- they said he took his share of the family’s fortune and just poof! Withdrew from society, carved out some kind of retreat in the base of this mountain.”
Quest let out an impressed whistle. “That must’ve been somethin’ to see,” he said while reaching out to snag the last of the Crab Rangoon.
Mick shrugged. “I guess…only no one in the family knew the location. The stories came from folks who’d been on the construction team, but they didn�
�t stick around long. I was told they were paid well to get lost and to keep quiet about it. I did make use of the contact information the family gave me, though.”
“Ahh…so he wanted to keep in touch in case there was more money to be collected.”
Mick bounced an index finger at Quest to confirm his guess. “Anyway, it didn’t do me much good. The guy changed his number after I’d called a few times- the family worked through a lawyer to track any residual earnings his way.”
“Sounds like a man who valued his privacy.”
“I get that,” Mick took a swig from her water bottle. Her amber stare flashed with something intense then. “I was never trying to make light of how important that is, Quest.”
“I know,” he sighed, understanding that she was speaking of the circumstances that had brought her into his life, “but privacy and distance weren’t things I craved as much from the outside as I craved it from my own family.”
“The drama element,” Mick noted, smiling wanly when he nodded to confirm.
Quest grinned. “Ramsey should be a synonym for drama- it’s existed among us for a long time. My uncle West- he’s the oldest of us. He wanted to distance himself from the family before me or any of my cousins were even born.”
“Hmm...lemme guess...your uncle Marcus had a lot to do with that?”
Chuckling, Quest nodded. “I’m sure he had a lot to do with it- but none of the younger generation ever really got all the story there so…” his expression tensed. “He and my aunt Bri went through a lot. Couple stuff...when they had Bill she was like a blessing for them- they had a lot of misfortune in the child department.”
Michaela nodded then, thinking of her husband’s cousin SyBilla.
“He didn’t want any of the crap this family’s capable of, touching his family- his closest family.” Quest reached out lightly entwining his fingers with hers. “That’s what you are to me Mick- I never want you to regret marrying me.”
“Baby no…” Michaela soothed, clutching Quest’s hand as she traded her chair at the table for one closer to his. “I’d never want that and I saw your aunt and uncle together at our wedding- they looked as newly-wed as we did.”
“Yeah,” he smiled, “it’s obvious aunt Bri loves my uncle with every part of her only... my guess is there were days when she wished his last name wasn’t Ramsey.” He drew up Mick’s hand, kissed the back of it. “I think that’s why I didn’t want you around them when you first got to Seattle,” he gave another wince. “Didn’t want to give you any reason to go too soon and that became even more important to me once I’d decided to convince you to marry me.”
“Ah...interesting plan,” Mick scrunched her nose and smiled when she saw that the gesture made her husband laugh. “But you do realize that if your last name wasn’t Ramsey, County wouldn’t have thought you were interesting enough for a book.”
The couple dissolved into roaring laughter which curbed once their lips met in a sweet kiss.
“Quest?” Mick smoothed the back of her hand down his cheek. “Why me? Why’d you come after me?”
“Because you were cute as hell, why else?”
She laughed and dropped a playful slap to his cheek. “So it was all just superficial?”
“At first,” he admitted, sobering. “But by the time you finished that meeting with Quay, it was about more than that.”
“And about more than that when you found out you were my first?” she guessed.
He had the nerve to appear accepting of the fact. “I won’t lie and say that it wasn’t a very nice surprise,” he squeezed her hand, tugging until she was snug in his lap.
“Knowing you were mine- all mine that way...it just made me want to be the one to give you as much of myself as I could and later when I knew even more about you, I wanted to give you all the security you deserved.”
She cupped his face, put a soft kiss to his mouth.
“When you left my office that day to go back to Chicago,” he set her more snuggly against him, “you took a piece of me with you and I couldn’t function without it.”
“I could’ve given it back to you,” Mick teased.
He smirked. “Wouldn’t have been the same, since it belongs to you now. Won’t work properly unless it’s in your possession.”
She hugged him. “I love you.”
“I love you and you’re never getting rid of me,” he swore.
“Is that a promise Mr. Ramsey?” She countered, laughing when he stood and took her with him.
“For you, Mrs. Ramsey, it’s a guarantee,” he said.
They branded each other with a searing kiss that was a promise of delights to come that night and all the nights ahead.
***
This Ends Lover’s Muse: An Interlude
And Now:
A Lover’s Pretense
A LOVER’S PRETENSE
The Ramseys Book II
PROLOGUE
No way. It was impossible. It was simply not possible that this man could be any more magnificent since she last saw him seventeen years ago.
Tykira Lowery pondered what was to her, such a huge improbability as she headed into Damon and Catrina Ramsey’s immaculate country estate just outside Seattle, Washington She’d given into her mother’s insistent demands that she attend Quest Ramsey’s wedding. In truth, she hadn’t experienced the urge to back out of the engagement. Besides, she’d been almost afraid to say anything other than ‘yes’ to the woman. Roberta “Bobbie” Lowery rarely demanded, never yelled and certainly never delivered ultimatums.
But she’d done just that and Ty really couldn’t hold her mother at fault. After all, she hadn’t set foot in Seattle since leaving for college in Hampton, Virgina in the fall of 1990. Bobbie had abided by her daughter’s wishes and spent time with her only child anywhere but the state of Washington. Once Ty was financially able, she flew her mother out to one exotic locale after another. Clearly, Bobbie had simply been biding her time, waiting to play on her daughter’s emotions and guilt for never visiting home. Ty couldn’t blame her and she cursed herself for not being more attentive to her mother’s needs.
But now, Ty owned up to the fact that it had been a mistake to give in to her mother’s emotional manipulating. As her cream pumps clicked across the gray and black marble checkered foyer in the sunken ballroom and the ruffled hem to the skirt of her rose blush crepe suit flipped flirtatiously with her every step, Ty realized that she had indeed gravely underestimated how powerfully she’d been affected by being there. More specifically, by seeing Quaysar Ramsey again.
It should have come as no surprise. She’d suspected that she’d be more than a little shaken to see him. And shaken she was. She knew he’d attend the wedding, but he was actually the last person she expected to see the moment she arrived.
Tall and muscular, he still had the power to make her feel incredibly small and feminine-something she never admitted to liking. But, being a woman two inches shy of six feet, feeling less dominant was quite often an exquisite luxury. Quay Ramsey had not only the ability to make her feel that way, but when he looked at her, she forgot every and anything else. Those bottomless, pitch eyes were set so deeply beneath the sleek brows that slanted above.
He was still fierce looking and irritatingly arrogant. Confidence personified. He’d had no idea who she was- that was clear. She’d reveled in the power of his confusion as she verbally slammed him for almost hitting her SUV when she arrived a few minutes ago. Of course, during her ‘verbal slam’ she was constantly trying to hear her own voice above her heart which beat a thousand drums in her ears. Still, she managed to coolly order him to park her car and the look on his face was sheer delight on her part.
The smug smile curving her full mouth diminished slightly. What would happen when she came to return her keys? She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Uh-oh, no time to do so now, she told herself. A woman who looked like Catrina Ramsey was eyeing her with that almost certain look of recognition. Tykira smiled and wi
ggled her fingers in a tentative wave.
~~~
Quay was strolling back into the foyer then. He jingled the keys against his palm and tried once again to place where he’d seen her. He’d certainly recall having met someone like her- all that rich, black hair; glossy and bouncing to the middle of her back, molasses skin just like his own. Although he was willing to bet his last dime that her skin was supple and satiny with a soft desirable fragrance clinging to it…
Dammit! Who was she? He glanced toward the keys again as if they held some answer. She knew him quite well as she’d been so kind to share during their run in out in the courtyard.
Then, there was her height and he preferred his women tiny and curvaceous. Of course that was a preference he’d developed in yet another vain attempt to keep his mind off of- Hold it. No way.
“Can’t be,” Quay breathed, his eyes gleaming with a new determination as he bounded toward the ballroom.
He scanned the crowd, knowing she’d stand out. After all, how many Amazons with silky midnight skin, amazing tresses and the most entrancing doe eyes could there be in the world? And suddenly, there she was, swaying to a soft classical tune the quartet performed in the alcove. His steps were halted, just briefly before they resumed and he headed straight for her.
How could he have not known it was her?
They’d been in one another’s lives since infancy. Tykira Lowery had taken an immediate and surprisingly intense liking to the overtly sensual and clearly outspoken Quay as opposed to his quieter, more serious twin brother Quest. She’d loved him before he even admitted to liking girls, was Quest’s usual tease.
Quay loved her too, but a small voice warned him of the dangers. He couldn’t let anything happen to Ty especially when his feelings for her were just as deep and overwhelming. He’d felt the need to protect her no matter the cost. Still, over the years, the man in him had daydreamed of Ty. He wanted just a moment, just one moment to allow himself to pretend they could be a normal couple- loving and living without fear. Quay knew she’d hate him forever afterwards, but he believed he could take that for just another minute in her arms.
The Ramseys Boxed Set Page 24
