The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  “But Quinn seems rather laid back Ev,” Mick told her husband’s co-pilot. “I think she’s gonna be a lot like Quest.”

  Everett was already waving his hand. “Don’t buy it. It’s an act, it’s all an act. She’s already got a list of things she plans to check out the minute you put her little butt in a walker, trust me.”

  Michaela slapped Everett’s jacket sleeve as her laughter resumed. Quest strolled up just then and linked his arms about his wife’s waist.

  “I frown on any negative talk regarding my perfect lady,” Quest warned the duo.

  Mick rolled her eyes toward Everett. “She’s got him completely wrapped around her finger and he’s happy about it.”

  Everett nodded. “I was the same clueless fool once,” his light brown eyes harboring a playful far-away gleam. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Mmm…” Quest murmured though he was moments away from laughter himself. “Steve’s looking for you,” he said instead, referring to the jet’s captain Steven Twols.

  “Yeah, we need to run through the check-list.” Everett explained leaning in to squeeze Michaela’s arm. “I’ll pray for you darlin’.” He said and winked when her laughter lilted forth once again.

  “Hmm…clueless fool, that describes you to a tee,” Mick sighed when Everett walked off.

  “Shush,” Quest ordered, turning Mick and keeping her trapped against her Infinity SUV they’d driven to the jetport that morning.

  Mick smiled anticipating a delightful kiss before Quest’s mouth met hers. It didn’t take long however, for the delightful kiss to go from nice to naughty. Quest’s fingers were already venturing beneath the hem of Mick’s zip front thunder blue hoody. Mick was standing on her toes to take more of his kiss and caress when she heard a throat clearing nearby.

  “Sorry Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey. Sorry for interrupting. Just wanted you to know I’m about to load your bags.”

  “No problem Paul,” Quest greeted the young baggage attendant. “How’ve you been?”

  Paul Yaeger nodded. “Good. Good Sir.”

  “How’s school?” Quest asked, keeping Mick close as he conversed with the young man.

  Paul’s pale face beamed as it usually did whenever the chance to speak with one of the Ramseys presented itself. “Good Sir. My last year. I hope Captain Twols will have a place for me when I’m done with the flight program.”

  “You keep us informed on your progress and we’ll set up a time to talk, alright?”

  Paul nodded frantically. “Yes Sir!”

  Quest chuckled as the boy delved enthusiastically into his task of taking bags from the SUV. He looked down at Mick and pinched her cheek. “You ready?”

  Taking a deep breath, Mick forced herself not to feel guilty for leaving Quincee. It was only for a few weeks, she reasoned. A few weeks of jet-setting, wearing something besides ratty jeans and oversized sweatshirts and dining to the sound of exquisitely erotic music instead of one of the many sleepy time tunes for the baby…Smiling brilliantly then, she tugged on the lapel of Quest’s black fleece jacket.

  “I’ll race you to the cabin,” she challenged.

  They were just setting off when Quest snapped his fingers and headed back to the SUV. He collected the stack of mail he’d taken from the office the day before-mail that contained his very own copy of “Royal Ramsey” by Michaela Sellars.

  ~CHAPTER FOUR~

  Once they were airborne, Mick put her worries to rest and decided to savor the time away with her husband. She hadn’t realized how much she needed a getaway until Quest suggested it. Motherhood was a demanding job for those who cared about doing it right, she thought. Those who held demanding jobs deserved luxurious vacations every now and then.

  With that thought in mind, Mick left Quest talking with the pilots in the cockpit. Eager to reacquaint herself with the posh surroundings, she took a stroll around the cabin with its rich wood grain paneling and large cushioned seating. Mick indulged in a few moments of enjoying the view of the full clouds beyond the windows. Afterwards, she went to freshen up in the private wash area at the rear of the cabin.

  Wash area of course was a poor description of the plushy designed space with its crafted cabinets and mirrored walls. Beyond the washroom’s slide doors was a rest area complete with a maple encased double bed. With the press of a button an overhead screen retracted for a breathtaking view of passing skies.

  Michaela didn’t take time to enjoy the view just then. She’d brought along her cell, but shut down the phone shortly before she and Quest arrived at the jetport. The only person she needed or wanted to be on call for was Quincee. Quest had his phone should Sonja need to contact them for any reason. Therefore, Mick happily decided hers was unnecessary. She was placing the device at the bottom of a lingerie stuffed case when her husband found her.

  Immediately, his brows drew close in pretend suspicion. “What are you up to?” he demanded playfully.

  Mick shrugged. “Would you believe I’m hiding my cell phone?”

  “Ha! Not in a million!” Quest’s rich laughter filled the confines of the washroom.

  Again, Mick shrugged. “See for yourself.” She moved away from the tanned leather overnight bag.

  Quest set out to do just that. Less than a minute passed though before he became sidetracked by all the enticing garments he touched.

  “Jesus,” he breathed pulling out a frilly piece of nothing that he’d never seen. “I want you in this the second we get off this plane,” he ordered his gray stare never leaving the garment he held.

  “Well that’s a thought…” Mick sighed and set her most serious expression in place. “But don’t you think we’d get too many weird looks if I step off the jet wearing nothing but a Baby doll top and a pair of crotch less panties?”

  Again, Quest’s haunting gaze drifted back to the garments. “Crotchless? Good God,” he groaned and began to venture through the bag with renewed intensity.

  Mick folded her arms across her chest. She had the best time watching her husband rifle through the scandalous pieces. His devastating profile held the awe-filled look of a little boy opening the biggest present under the tree on Christmas morning. Lithely, she perched atop the wood grain counter next to her overnight bag.

  “So now that you’ve got me here and have gone through all my underwear, why don’t you tell me what else this kidnapping is supposed to involve?” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and fixed him with a look that was innocence and naughtiness combined.

  Quest dropped a black satin teddy with its pink lace trim. He moved to tower over her on the counter space. “This kidnapping involves you- out of your clothes. Often.” All teasing was removed from the moment following his words.

  “I see.” Mick’s tone was still saucy, though her heart skipped more than one beat beneath the unwavering intensity of his stare. “So I guess if I’m very good, you’ll let me go then?” She breathed, feeling a shiver race her spine when his hand encircled her neck.

  “Never,” He promised using his thumb to lift her chin. A second later, he’d captured her mouth in a sultry kiss. His tongue thrust lazily past her parted lips, traced the ridge of her teeth and the roof of her mouth.

  Michaela whimpered. Her core tensed out of sweet pleasure. The warm ooze of sudden need surfaced then and she was returning his kiss with a sultriness of her own.

  Quest uttered a vicious curse as need tornadoed through him. The experience weakened his legs in such a manner that he gripped the edge of the counter with both hands. The sheer force of his kiss kept Michaela pressed against the mirrored wall behind the counterpace.

  Regaining his strength, Quest released the counter top and captured both Mick’s thighs- parting them to accommodate his frame. Mick uttered something incomprehensible when his thumbs worked the middle of her jeans. The thrusts of his tongue inside her mouth gained intensity and permitted nothing but her equal participation in the kiss.

  She convulsed between the pleasure of his
clever fingers and desperation to be rid of her confining attire. Quest was just as agitated by her clothing and didn’t mind voicing his frustration with muffled curses and grunts of discouragement.

  “Damn jeans,” he muttered while suckling her earlobe and fiddling with the button fly. “Why the hell did you wear these things?”

  “You- you said dress comfortable.” She almost sobbed while eagerly brushing rigid nipples against the slabs of his carved chest. The fact that he was still garbed in the dark fleece jacket did nothing to diminish the power beneath it. “You said dress comfortable,” she repeated when he growled another agitated curse against her ear.

  “Comfortable meant accessible.”

  “Oh.” A high pitched gasp followed when his lips found a nipple only partially covered beneath her violet lace bra- she hadn’t even felt him unzip her top. Mick bit her lip while looking down at him-his sleek brows drawn close in concentration as he tongued the nipple past its confines. “Sorry,” she moaned when he cursed against over the button fly.

  “Hush.” He ordered and to ensure she obeyed, he abandoned her nipples to thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth again.

  After a while, Mick’s jeans and Quest’s; for that matter, were a non-issue. Michaela’s hoody was discarded and she wore only the lacy violet bra. The front clasp had been unhooked and the garment dangled open at her chest. Quest only had to undo the fly of his own sagging jeans and they; along with his boxers, pooled around the hunter green Lugs he sported.

  “Hush up, will you?” He commanded once again. Resting his forehead in the crook of her neck, he secured her leg beneath his arm and took her with a savage beauty. “They’ll think I’m killing you in here,” he muttered into her skin while filling her with his slow lengthy thrusts. “Damn,” he grunted overwrought by the feel of his sex growing stiffer with desire for her.

  Mick wanted to laugh in the midst of pleasure, but that only heightened the shrieking quality of her cries. “Mmm…” she pressed her lips together to silence herself.

  The scent of her was like a drug and Quest was practically drunk with lust for the curvy chocolate beauty in his arms. She gasped his name in the most incredible, ego-stroking fashion. When he bent his head to alternate suckling one breast and then the other, Mick had to bit her lip then in order to obey his orders that she stifle her orgasmic outbursts. Unfortunately, the trembling moans carried almost the same volume and affected Quest just as strongly.

  “God Mick,” he grunted and filled his hands with her derriere. The movement deepened his penetration. Mick rolled her head back and forth against the mirror while arching fiercely to capture every inch of his satisfying length…

  ***

  “This is not fair.” County grumbled and kicked a bridal magazine across Fernando’s usually pristine study.

  Tykira Ramsey; who was seated on a sofa that teemed with even more magazines, didn’t bother to raise her head. “I don’t think those are for kicking but for browsing.” She appeared to be quite interested in the bridal mag she was browsing just then.

  County simply rolled her eyes towards the publications covering the floor. “Damn that Mick, leavin’ me here to handle this mess.”

  Ty looked up at last. “Cut her some slack, huh? I mean what woman wouldn’t drop everything to run off with Quest Ramsey?”

  “Let’s see…” County pretended to be in deep concentration. “Ah! The woman married to his twin.” She sighed, waving a hand towards the woman in question.

  Ty acknowledge the remark with a dazzling smile. “So cut her some slack, why don’t you?”

  County considered that and shrugged. “Lucky wenches,” she muttered and joined in when Ty laughed.

  “Now don’t tell me there’s tension between the soon-to-be newlyweds?” Tykira settled back against the sofa as she voiced the tease.

  “Oh Ramsey,” County groaned while referring to her fiancé. She clicked her teeth. “Everyday he’s bitching about how bad his office looks. Everyday I’m thinking of new places to tell him where he can shove his office.”

  “Lord County can you blame him?” Ty breathed, taking time to glance around the unkempt room. “After all, choosing a gown shouldn’t be cause for this much…disarray.”

  “Easy for you to say,” County grumbled, pulling away a magazine she’d stabbed with the heel of her navy blue boot. “You’ve been in love with Quay since you were five. Probably had your dress picked out by age ten.”

  Tykira took no offense. “Try seven.” She clarified and again the office was filled with laughter. “Alright, enough of this,” Ty slapped her hands to her jean clad thighs. “I think a change of scenery will do you good.”

  “Scenery?”

  Ty pushed herself off the deep sofa. “Try seeing the gown with your own eyes instead of through the pages of a magazine or computer screen.”

  County leaned against Fernando’s desk. “What have you got in mind?” She crossed her arms over the gray scoop neck sweater she sported.

  “Shopping, of course,” she folded her arms across the cream V-neck she wore. “And if we’re lucky, maybe we’ll pick up a wedding dress while we’re at it.”

  County was already grabbing her purse. “My credit cards are ready to beg for mercy and I’m ready to get the hell out of here.”

  The two headed out of the office soon after. Their conversation and laughter drowned the sound of the fax machine beeping to signal the arrival of Jenean Rays’ transmission. The document slid onto the tray just as a gust of air from a heating vent sent it swirling to the floor amidst the slew of magazines.

  ***

  “Have they extradited her yet?” Brogue Tesano questioned Katie Mavins, one of his many contacts inside the county courthouse. He nodded when the woman confirmed that Yvone was still in their custody.

  “It’ll be tricky for you Brogue,” Katie warned glancing across her shoulder to ensure no one was passing her cubicle just then. “They’re about to assign counsel since she doesn’t seem to be opening up to anyone-they don’t want to risk losing her on some technicality because she’s not represented.”

  “You mean she hasn’t requested anyone? Not screaming for a lawyer to shield her?” Brogue inquired straightening a bit in the large leather chair he occupied behind his desk.

  “No counsel’s been requested.” Katie whispered. “It’s like she’s a mute. A few of us are speculating whether she’ll try for some insanity plea.”

  “So she’s not talking.”

  “Not a peep. What are you thinking?” Katie asked when Brogue was silent for more than a few seconds.

  “Just speculating…same as the rest of you.”

  Katie knew the man far too well to believe that.

  “Maybe she’s considering the danger in telling what she thinks she knows.” He continued after a while sounding as though he were weighing the argument to himself. “Maybe she’s wondering what she can get by telling them everything she thinks she knows.”

  Katie tapped her fingers to her cheek. “Which speculation are you leaning toward?” She asked hearing the man grumble a low sound across the line.

  “Not sure yet. The fact that she won’t talk- hasn’t even asked for counsel yet, could be a good sign. There’s no one to advise her that it’d be in her best interest to talk about things that could get her pretty throat slit.”

  Katie swallowed tugging at the neckline of her blouse. She felt the chill in the man’s words as he spoke so casually about something so lurid. Clearing her throat, she cast aside her unease.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Wait, watch and keep me posted.”

  ***

  Los Angeles, California~

  Taurus drew Nile back against him. Setting his arms neatly about her waist, he rested his cheek next to hers.

  “Kids missed you. I could tell.”

  Nile cuddled back into her husband’s solid frame and smiled. “I think the boys missed me. The girls…let’s just say they were so bu
sy drooling over my husband, I can’t be sure.”

  Taurus’ low chuckle rumbled. “Can’t fault them for having good taste.”

  “Or eyes that work.”

  Taurus was poised to utter another tease when he noted the humor leaving her face. “What?” he turned her to face him more fully. “What?” he insisted, giving her a little nudge.

  “Just the damndest thing,” she sighed and focused on the subtle design of the emblem on Taurus’ sweatshirt. “I think I really need to be there for my mother. I need to see her.”

  Understanding, Taurus only drew his wife closer.

  “I know you don’t approve of me having anything to do with her.” Nile spoke into his shoulder. “I don’t blame you.”

  Taurus stifled his response and let her continue.

  “I was all set to cast her off too- to let her rot for what she stood by and let my father do to those girls…I wasn’t even thinking about helping her and then the craziest thing happened.”

  Drawing back then, Taurus waited. His light eyes were narrowed in curiosity over the strangely awed look she wore.

  “During the wedding…everyone I met…they were so wonderful.” Nile spoke in an almost absent manner while she fidgeted with the tassels on her olive green jacket. “They all welcomed me and acted like they didn’t give a damn that I was Cufi Muhammad’s daughter.”

  “That’s because they don’t give a damn.” Taurus leaned in to kiss her nose. “They love you because I love you.”

  “And I felt it too,” Nile’s eyes were wide with happiness. “I’d never laid eyes on some of them until the wedding and they welcomed me just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

  Beyond the sweetness of her words, Taurus could sense that there was something else fueling them. “Where’re you goin’ with his love?” His champagne gaze narrowed while he rubbed a lock of her hair between his fingers.

  Nile bowed her head and braced herself. An utterly insane thought had camped out in the back of her mind since her wedding day. “I could’ve sworn I was looking at my mother when I met your cousin’s wife Michaela.”