The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  As expected, Quest’s temper erupted seconds later. He kicked the tires and side paneling of the SUV with such explosive blows that Quay was surprised one of the tires didn’t go flat beneath the pressure. He kept waiting for his brother’s boot print to show in the driver’s side door and noted that the step rail would definitely need replacing for it now hung on for dear life after the pounding it took from Quest’s size fifteens.

  Once he’d deemed it safe, Quay moved close to pat Quest’s shoulder. It was then Quay realized his brother was shuddering. Unaccustomed to the sight of Quest in such a state, Quay only stood squeezing his shoulder for several moments. When the gesture appeared to be doing little good, Quay pulled his twin into a tight hug.

  Tears were added to the shuddering as Quest dropped all pretenses of being strong and unwavering for his sibling. On the deserted parking deck, the two stood embracing for a long while. Quay didn’t bother uttering words to soothe. Quest needed to vent the emotion that was weighing down his ability to do what needed to be done.

  “This will kill her,” Quest breathed into Quay’s shoulder.

  “Yes it will. Even more reason for you to tell her and be there for her, right?”

  “I got no idea how to do that.” Quest admitted even as he nodded. “I know it’s as easy as opening my mouth and letting the words come out but…”

  “I know, I know but I think you’ll come up with the right way. You’re the suave one, remember?”

  Grinning at the tease, Quest pulled out of the embrace and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes.

  “Use this time, man,” Quay squeezed his brother’s shoulder again. “Tell her slowly, but tell her.”

  “What if she hates me for it?”

  “You think she will?”

  “She’s come to grips with it Quay,” Quest massaged his arm and began to weigh the pros and cons once more. “She’s finally accepted that Yvonne Wilson can’t tell her anything that’d make a difference now.” Leaning back against the abused Escalade, he sent his twin a bewildered look. “What if she hates me for opening up all that again?”

  Quay wouldn’t comment, knowing the situation was destroying his brother inside as surely as it would destroy Michaela once she was told. Quest was grasping at the flimsiest straws to reason himself out of doing what was right. Quay knew that until the man had exhausted all excuses he wouldn’t say a thing. Quay could only hope Quest would tell Mick before it was too late. Otherwise, he feared the couple he loved would never be the same.

  ~CHAPTER THREE~

  Michaela took advantage of a rare quiet moment in her ‘mommy world’. She could’ve kissed Sonja who arrived several hours earlier than expected. With the added bonus of a sitter for the evening, Mick hoped she and Quest could indulge in an uninterrupted night of sleep before several nonstop hours of travel the next day.

  Quest however was already getting a start on his rest time. He’d come home a few hours before Sonja arrived and collapsed right on the bed. Mick wouldn’t allow herself to read more into his exhaustion. He was just worn out from all the prep work from the trip and meetings he’ll have to handle, she told herself.

  Not quite ready for bed yet, Mick uncorked a bottle of Riesling, grabbed a glass and carried the treat to the portion of the heated pool outside she and Quest’s split level bedroom. The climate controlled area was shielded for privacy and a seductive oasis Michaela and her husband could enjoy any time of the year.

  Living dangerously, Mick savored two glasses of the wine. She let the drink course through her body in a relaxing swirl that made her eyelids deliciously heavy. The sun was setting on the chilly September evening, John Legend was crooning and she was relaxing on the cushioned padding surrounding the pool. She was in heaven.

  Correction: She was on her way to heaven and arrived there when she felt Quest’s hands and mouth on her body.

  Mick continued to lie on her stomach. “Thought you were sleeping,” she sighed.

  “I’m up.” He covered her with his weight.

  Mick giggled and nudged her bottom against him. “You’re right.” She confirmed suggestively before succumbing to the burp that had built in her throat. “I’ve been drinking.” She confessed.

  “One?” Quest had already spied the wine bottle and glass set a few inches away.

  “Two.”

  He chuckled. “You mind if I take advantage of you?” His deep voice had grown muffled within her glossy curls.

  Mick could scarcely find her own voice for Quest was already ‘taking advantage’. “Please,” she managed and shamelessly whimpered as he plied her with a double caress. He manipulated a firming nipple while his fingers disappeared beneath her navy bikini bottom. “Please do,” she finished, arching against him when his middle and index fingers slipped inside her to rotate amidst the heavy moisture which had settled there. She shuddered, overcome with the desire to turn on her back.

  Quest wouldn’t allow it just then. He alternated between thrusting his fingers inside her and fondling the hypersensitive bud of flesh above her womanhood.

  “Mmm…Quest please,” She nudged his arousal more persistently and opened her mouth to beg again but no words came. He was suckling her earlobe and nibbling her into oblivion while she expected to faint any minute from the pleasure of it all.

  Mick gasped her delight into the foamy cushion she lay upon. Her nails created half moon impressions as she clutched the fabric-she was desperate to feel him against her palms. When Quest finally turned her on her back, he simply trapped her wrists in one hand and raised them above her head. His free hand smoothed across her trembling frame, paying special attention to her breasts. He made quick work of the front ties securing her bikini top and kept his hazy gray stare focused on her face when he brushed the back of his hand across her breasts.

  “Mmm no,” she ordered when he would have released her wrists.

  Quest’s left dimple appeared when he grinned and leaned close. “Kinky wench,” he whispered against her ear.

  “You like it,” she gasped when he nibbled along her jaw. The gasp merged into a moan when his thumb outlined a bare nipple.

  “Jesus Michaela,” He groaned and had to fill his mouth with her then.

  Quest Ramsey did everything well and pleasuring his wife was no exception. For countless moments he feasted on her full bosom, the valley between and the silken undersides. His nose explored every dip and curve inhaling her scent. He paid homage to her bellybutton, tonguing it as she quivered beneath him.

  Mick felt him cupping her bare bottom and realized he’d removed what remained of her bikini without her ever being aware. Seconds later, she felt his mouth on her gliding across the satin triangle above the part of her body that he’d taken complete possession of.

  Maintaining control, he kept hold of her wrists taking one in each hand and keeping them at her sides. Again, he returned to the hypersensitive mound of flesh above her sex. He’d subjected it to slow affecting nibbles that forced the most erotic shrieks past her lips. Quest alternated between driving his tongue deep inside her and suckling that sensitive patch of tissue. His expert skill had her crying his name in another octave.

  Quest squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ward off the need to take her then. Unfortunately, the demands of his sex overruled any intentions to carry out the interlude a bit longer. He released Mick’s wrists and let her tug the cotton boxers past his taut ass.

  Using her toes, she just managed to drag the garment down past his ankles when he imprisoned her thighs and sank deep inside her. Mick thought she’d melt as every part of her weakened in a manner that had nothing to do with the wine she’d consumed.

  Again, Quest trapped her wrists and buried his gorgeous dark face in the dip of her shoulder. “I love you,” he whispered as though he were both tortured and elated.

  Michaela would’ve reciprocated the sentiment but he began to kiss her. His tongue mimicked the lunges of his rigid length which carved a new place inside her. Quest
broke the kiss, bowing his head while adding more heat to his thrusts as if that were possible. Clenching a fist he pounded lightly against the cushion and prayed for just a few additional moments before filling her with his seed.

  “Everything I do is for you,” he groaned into her shoulder. “Everything…”

  Michaela was lost in the exquisite pleasure he brought her. “Yes,” was all she could say.

  “I’d never hurt you, you know that…”

  Even through the haze of lovemaking and one glass of wine too many, Mick felt her concern mount over the phrase. Her concern however drifted onward when he grew impossibly stiff inside her and they climaxed in unison.

  ~~~

  Later, they lounged beneath the starry skies visible through the enclosure’s glass ceiling. Quest rested between Mick’s thighs with his head on her tummy.

  “I didn’t doze off,” She boasted in a lazy, delighted tone.

  Quest frowned. “Should I be flattered?” He asked, sounding hurt.

  “My tolerance is building.”

  “For me?”

  Mick arched her hip playfully, causing him to raise his head. “For alcohol, idiot.”

  Quest sent her a wink. “Congratulations.”

  “Speaking of dozing off,” she noted, smoothing her fingers across his brow before he could lower his head, “you dropped into bed earlier like you were dead to the world.”

  Quest allowed her to see the unease darken his gaze. “There’s a lot going on.” He admitted finally.

  “Well I know there’s a lot of planning involved with the trip.” Mick tilted her head. “Are you sure you want me tagging along? I know you’ve got business to handle and-”

  “Hey?” Quest interrupted and gave one of her curls a tug. “I don’t want you anywhere but with me, understand?”

  “’Kay,” she whispered and bit her bottom lip while her lashes batted madly around her stunning amber eyes.

  Quest could no longer resist and moved up to capture her mouth in a lusty kiss. Mick smoothed the back of her hand across his cheek and kissed him with the same possessiveness he used. She moaned his name out of sheer disappointment when he pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  But for the sound of her trying to catch her breath, Mick was silent. Patiently, she waited bracing her weight on her elbows as she leaned away.

  “What dammit?” She snapped when she saw Quest trying to form his question and then seeming to change his mind.

  “It’s about the talk you had with Taurus during Houston and Aunt Daphne’s will reading.”

  Mick rolled her eyes. “Curse that Georgia Ramsey,” she hissed and sat up with fire in her eyes. “Quest I’m tellin’ you now, that aunt of yours is just itching for me to tell her where she can take all that nosy bullshit. Taurus was in a bad way and I wasn’t about to let him act like he wasn’t affected by it.” She shook her head, recalling the man’s dreadful state just after his parent’s death.

  Quest began to laugh but paid for it when his wife rained down fisted blows across his back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he gasped, still laughing. “I swear I wasn’t talking about that!” Still laughing, he raised his hands defensively to ward off more blows. Tentatively, he leaned close to press a quick kiss to her jaw. “I heard what George said to you. I would’ve stepped in but you handled it just fine.”

  Mick blinked. “Oh.” She muttered and grimaced while trying to dismiss her loss of temper.

  Quest had sobered a bit as well. “I was concerned too. I talked to T later before we left. He told me about what you said…about him not dwelling on Houston or what evil he may’ve passed on.” He cleared his throat and studied the tune his fingers strummed along her thigh. “He said you told him that you’ve wondered the same…about your mother.” He waited then, watching closely for her expression.

  Mick swallowed with noticeable effort and averted her gaze. She said nothing.

  Quest looked away as well. “Taurus said you told him you didn’t need her to validate or predict the kind of mother you’d be because you knew you loved Quinn more than your life and what meant more than wondering about a woman who was pretty much dead to you…”

  “Jeez, he told you a mouthful,” Mick breathed, dragging a hand through her hair. She recalled the rest of the conversation with her husband’s cousin in stunning clarity. “Where are you going with this?”

  “Do you still feel that way? Would you really be content with never knowing why your mother…”

  The buzz and afterglow of lovemaking was effectively doused. Mick pushed Quest away. “Why do you want to know? Where’s all this coming from?”

  “Just that you hardly talk about her anymore-your mother,” He shrugged. “I wanted to ask about it for a while but I didn’t want to upset you.” He winked a bit then. “Your talk with T opened a door, I guess.”

  Michaela watched Quest closely and eventually decided she believed him. After all, how could he know she was searching for information on her mother? A voice inside her head said Moses, but she’d been checking and he appeared to be having as much difficulty getting the goods on Charlton Browning as she’d had.

  You do realize that could be a lie? Michaela ignored the voice that time and focused on her husband. God, he was so worried for her. If that worry triggered his protective streak again, she’d never uncover a thing.

  She kneeled next to him then on the cushioned area surrounding the pool. Cupping his face, she looked into his eyes and lied. “I meant everything I said to Taurus.”

  Nodding once, Quest lowered his gaze and pulled his wife into a hug. Partly relieved and partly unnerved, he took her response as his answer. If she had finally found peace with this who was he to shatter it? A nagging part of his soul whispered that she was lying-pacifying him so that he wouldn’t worry.

  But the part of him that was pleased as punch over not telling her, overruled all the nags and doubts. Standing then, he swung her against his chest.

  “Let’s go to bed,” he spoke against her hair.

  ***

  Chicago, Illinois~

  “Jenean, Spivey says they really need you in there.”

  Jenean Rays grimaced as her assistant’s voice came through the line. It was the third time the woman had voiced the announcement, Jenean realized. “Tell him to keep his boxers on, I just want to scan this email I got from Alan down in shipping.”

  “Okay…” Pauletta Orey sounded skeptical and she hesitated a few seconds. “Just so you know-Alisa Breems decided to come up from South Carolina to take the meeting in person.”

  Jenean’s fingers paused over the mouse. “She’s here?” She fiddled with the cuff of her burgundy blouse while pondering the presence of one of their top mystery authors. “Jeez, this must be serious.”

  “Yeah, she and Janet were about to come to blows before breakfast arrived.” Pauletta shared referring to their senior editor Janet Harvey.

  Jenean waved her hand and turned back to her monitor. “Just give me two minutes.” She urged. Contessa had personally requested that she handle anything having to do with the rather covert publication of “Royal Ramsey”. Following Alan’s voice message that the first shipment had arrived and that he’d emailed the necessary paperwork; Jenean didn’t want to waste time devoting her full attention to whatever matters might surface. This time, a senior editor and top author would have to play second string to the publisher.

  “Finally,” Jenean murmured, spotting Alan’s email in the usual morning slew of correspondences. She scanned the attachments to confirm everything had come through properly. She’d go over them more thoroughly later that day. “Coming Pauletta…” she sang to herself while browsing the attachments, “just a quick check to make sure I’ve got it all and-” She sat a bit straighter in her desk chair. “Review copies?” She clicked on the link. She couldn’t recall having spoken to Contessa about review copies.

  Of course such copies were st
andard procedure. With the situation being what it was however, shipping preview copies was probably not in the plan. Jenean decided to give the list a quick read through, hoping the reviewers would be those Contessa House could depend on to work with them on timing the publication of their respective reviews.

  “Oh my God…” Jenean blinked as though that would make the name Quest Ramsey disappear from the screen. “How the hell did he get on this list?”

  Jenean’s hands went weak over the mouse but the phone bussed again before they could commence to shaking.

  “You need to get in that meeting ASAP.” Pauletta’s firm advisement loomed through the phone’s speakers.

  Flipping a few stray micro thin braids from her face, Jenean ignored her assistant and scoured her rolodex for Contessa’s cell number. Clipping off Pauletta mid-sentence, she dialed the number once it was located.

  “Shit,” she hissed when County’s voice mail kicked in after the first ring. Jenean didn’t waste time with a message but printed a copy of the email and attachment. She scribbled down the fax number. County had provided the information when she informed the executive staff that she’d be conducting business from Seattle for several months.

  Jenean scurried across her sunny, cluttered office to snatch the email from the printer. She circled Quest Ramsey’s name and raced out the office.

  Pauletta’s round vanilla toned face was a picture of relief. “Thank God, Spivey’s screamin’ bloody murder for you to-”

  “I’m on it!” Jenean pulled Pauletta from her seat and turned the woman towards the fax machine. “I need you to send this to Contessa before you do another thing.” She ordered, pushing papers at Pauletta before she raced off toward the meeting.

  ***

  “Enjoy the infant years, because when they start walkin’ that’s all she wrote.”

  Mick laughed despite the words of warning. She was engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with Everett Shepard- the topic: kids.