Chuckling softly, Fernando pulled his hands from his jean pockets and moved behind the desk. Curving his hands over either arm of his chair he trapped her efficiently.
“You’ll never be properly housetrained if I do it for you.”
“I see,” County breathed, tingling from the mere sensation of his nose brushing her jaw.
Fernando took a moment to suckle her earlobe. “If my verbal warnings won’t work then I’ll have to get physical and turn you over my knee.”
The tingling turned to a scandalous throb then,
“If I pick them up will you turn me over your knee anyway?” She bargained.
Fernando chuckled at the devilish intent he saw in her eyes. “I’ll think about it. I love you.” He said, turning serious then.
“I love you.” She arched close to take his mouth with her kiss.
“Clean up my office and come to bed.” He ordered, breaking the kiss. “I’ll be waiting with my belt.”
Contessa giggled. “Promises, promises…” she sighed watching as he strolled out the door. The content on her face turned to agitation when she studied the room.
“To hell with it,” she pushed herself out of the chair and decided to just jump into the cleaning job. Quickly she grabbed and stacked magazines on the corner of the glass coffee and end tables. She was about to shove a loose sheet inside one of the periodicals but took a closer look at the page when she saw Quest’s name circled.
On first glance, she assumed it was something for Fernando. After a cursory second glance she noticed her house logo and fax number at the top of the paper.
“What the hell…” The page slowly grew familiar. It was page two of two so Contessa set off to find page one. She wouldn’t acknowledge the eerie feeling that she knew what the fax involved.
In the carrier tray she located the cover sheet and her heart dropped when she saw Jenean Rays’ name.
“God,” she choked and made a mad dash for the nearest phone.
***
When Michaela returned to the bedroom suite, she carried a silver tray filled with sandwiches, fruits, veggies, dip, juice and hot tea. Quest was done with his shower and sat in one of the armchair facing the raging fire.
He looked relaxed enough in the ankle length navy cotton robe, but Mick knew differently. She could see the agitation still etched on his profile thanks to the firelight dancing against his incredible features.
“No, no that’s okay I’m fine.” She said when he saw her and stood to help with the tray. “There,” she set the burden to the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. “I’ve got it all here. What do you want first?” She propped her hands to her hips and surveyed the spread.
Finally, she tuned in to the silence and turned to find his pitch stare focused on her. Leaving the food, she joined him on the chair and straddled his lap when he caught her hips. For a time, he simply held onto her. Words weren’t needed; Mick rocked him slow, brushing soothing kisses along his temple.
The sweetness of the moment began a slow simmer into something spicier. Quest untied the belt securing her robe and; in seconds, she was bare in his arms. He cupped her breasts and nurtured himself. Mick whimpered and bit her lip in response to the heated mastery of his mad suckling upon her nipples. He abandoned one breast to curve his hand around her body and massage her hips and the small of her back.
Mick was drawn deeper into the embrace and her fingers trembled as they traced the powerful chords of muscle in his chest and shoulders. There was urgency in the way he touched her and she sensed it was fueled more by anger than arousal. She wasn’t frightened and allowed herself to be the tool for the venting of his frustration.
Quest muttered something incomprehensible between her breasts. Seconds later, Mick felt her wrists in one of his hands and imprisoned at the base of her spine. With his free hand, Quest loosened the belt of his robe and parted it. Mick gasped at the sheer strength he exerted when he lifted her easily and settled her beautifully upon his stiff length. With her arms trapped as they were, her breasts were thrust more prominently before his mouth. The frantic pace of her breathing kept her nipples just out of reach of his mouth.
An animalistic grunt rose in his throat and he pressed her arms closer to her back. A helpless shriek lilted from her mouth when he captured a nipple. His teeth and tongue began a dual assault on the sensitized peak.
Michaela watched his sleek brows draw close in concentration as he filled his mouth with more of her body. At the same time, the depth of his thrusts increased and Mick cried his name until she was hoarse. The emotion in the room heightened to a powerfully intense state. Even the pop and crackle of the burning embers seemed to gain volume. Quest ravaged her neck scraping his perfect teeth along the flawless brown column of her neck while her head was thrown back in response to the pleasure he subjected her to.
“Mmm…” she moaned feeling the hot rush of his release filling her then.
Quest weakened, his head sloping forward to rest on her shoulder. His shaft throbbed relentlessly against the walls of her sex as remnants of his desire continued to ooze inside her. A frown fleeted across his face and he gave Mick’s wrists a warning squeeze urging her to still her movements.
She obeyed when all she wanted was to contract and release sex around his rigid length. Her tortured breathing was mingled with the hint of a groan.
Quest’s breathing seemed to calm and shortly he released her arms and circled his own about her curvaceous frame. Mick raked her nails across the silky close cut waves of his hair. Slowly, she began to rock him again.
~~~
“Remind me to never come to work for you.” Mick teased later but bit her lip and waited to see if her husband was in a teasing mood.
The dangerous black of his stare had softened to gray and there was definitely laughter there. “It depends on what you’d come to do for me.” He said, allowing her to see the hint of intensity that crept back into his eyes.
“Ah,” She wiggled a bit on his lap, straddling him while she fed him fruit from the tray they’d taken to the massive bed. “You can be a scary guy to work for,” she wasn’t teasing so much then.
Quest didn’t seem to take offense. He accepted the slice of cantaloupe she held before his mouth and leaned his head back. “I’m not so hard to work for.”
“Ha!” Mick disagreed and earned a smack to her bare bottom as a result.
Quest shrugged. “I only expect my people to do what I ask- no questions.”
“But isn’t that what good business is about? You know…questions, disagreement, discussion?”
“In some cases- others no so much,” Quest grimaced as he considered his reply.
Michaela spent more time than necessary dipping another cantaloupe slice into a bowl of whipped cream. “Would you have fired Jacques Cuary today?” She asked.
“I’d have accepted his resignation.” He rephrased softly. “Once my decision’s made, that’s it.” His deep voice hardened noticeably then. “Person doesn’t abide by that, they’re out and wishing they’d done as I’d asked.”
Mick shook her head and held a creamy cantaloupe slice before his mouth. “Like I said, you’re a scary guy.”
“Damn straight,” he teased and savored the fruit. He caught her wrist to stop her reaching for more. “That’s who I’ve been since forever Mick.”
She blinked. All teasing had evaporated from the room then.
“Quest Ramsey,” he said looking off across the room with clear regret in his gaze. “The man who cleans up the mess. ‘Go to Q, he’ll take care of it. He’ll know what to do’.”
“That wasn’t fair to you. They had no right to expect that of you.” Mick felt a sudden rush of dislike for her husband’s family then. “They had no right,” she repeated, smoothing the back of her hand across his brow.
“Don’t be upset with them. They didn’t expect it as much as I volunteered.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “It’s who I am Mick- part of my soul.
I think if they hadn’t needed me so much I’d have found someone who did.”
Michaela couldn’t fault him. After all, wasn’t she as much a slave to whom she was- who her soul demanded she be? Turning back to the food tray then, she selected a slice of kiwi and fed it to her husband.
“Spill it,” he commanded gently having noticed Mick biting her lip.
“I just um…I’m not gonna butt in on your business again,” she blurted and popped a tiny strawberry into her mouth. “I’ll just stay here or go shopping like a good little wife.”
The left dimple flashed in Quest’s cheek as he smiled over her decision. He nudged her chin with his fist until she met his gaze.
“I really don’t mind.” Mick went on using her fingertips to thrum a little tune across his collarbone. “I won’t even nag at you to tell me what’s happening. When you get here, I’ll take your mind off it all.”
No doubt, Quest thought resisting the urge to fondle her bare body as she straddled his. “You know, at first I wasn’t sure about asking you to come along. I didn’t think I’d be able to focus on a damn thing with you hanging around.”
“See?” Mick nodded her agreement. “Now this way you won’t have to worry about that.”
Quest grinned and let her finish her say. “Have you ever noticed the thing I do when I’m frustrated?”
Mick’s amber eyes narrowed in instant awareness. “You mean when you rub that grizzly brand on your arm?”
Quest managed a nod amidst his chuckles. “Do you know I didn’t touch the thing once during that meeting? I didn’t even think about it? I think it’s because you were there.”
“Oh Quest I-”
“Hold on, let me say this. I could’ve been a lot colder to Jacques had you not been around.”
Michaela stifled a shudder as she imagined it.
“Besides, I promised we’d shop together, didn’t I?”
Mick nodded but still seemed unconvinced. “Please tell me the truth. Are you really sure you want me travelling around with you?”
“Positive. Nowhere but by my side, remember?”
Laughing then, Mick let go of her uncertainties. Quest tugged her into a kiss and they settled down for another lengthy love session.
***
“We need Yvonne Wilson before she makes bail.” Brogue Tesano blew across the surface of the coffee in his mug.
The two men seated across the table at the 24 hour café, exchanged looks.
“You sure she’ll make bail?” One of them asked.
“She’s got counsel now. Claire Boyer has a very recognizable name in the legal community.” Brogue smiled and savored the strength of the regular brew. “Yvonne’s new son-in-law selected one of his very powerful friends to protect her interests. If Boyer gets Yvonne bail, the Ramseys’ll ship her off to parts unknown until her trial.”
“But you’re sure she doesn’t know any of what’s really going on?”
“What she thinks she knows is no good for us either,” Brogue told his other dining partner. “Hell, if she mentions Marc Ramsey or me; for that matter, it’ll bring stress we don’t need.”
“You think anybody’ll take her seriously?”
“Whether they do or not, there would be no choice but to check it out.” Brogue allowed a passing waitress to top off his coffee. “Don’t for a minute believe she wouldn’t jump on the chance to spill everything she knows if there’s a chance to deal her way out of a cell.”
“So what’s the plan once she surfaces?”
Brogue grimaced. He’d stressed over that particular detail in spite of the fact that he’d always known what had to be done.
“B?” The man who’d asked the question uneasily inquired again and straightened on the booth when Brogue looked his way.
“She’s dead.” He said in a matter of fact tone, finished his coffee and left his associates at the table.
***
“Until I met her, I couldn’t believe you’d actually taken the vows,” Drake Reinard mused when Michaela had left the table to take a call on Quest’s cell.
Drake joined Quest and Mick for dinner out that evening. Not surprising, Drake spent the heaviest portion of the night commending his friend’s choice.
“Finally coming round to appreciating holy matrimony?” Quest grinned over the tease.
Drake chuckled even as he shivered beneath the finely crafted almond brown suit coat he wore. “Appreciative only if I were taking vows with a lovely like your Michaela.”
Again, Quest grinned and leaned close to clink glasses with Drake. “You should consider yourself lucky that we’re such good friends with all these compliments of my wife.”
Drake’s resulting apology was playful and delivered with a wealth of laughter surrounding it. Within moments however, somberness was overshadowing the ease. “I suppose Jacques Cuary wouldn’t have minded being a closer friend the other day, hmm?”
“I knew that wouldn’t go well.” Quest grimaced and trailed a finger around the mouth of his glass. “We both know it couldn’t be avoided.” He slid a glance toward Drake.
“Well I-” Drake stifled his remark, his striking ice blue stare warming as he spotted Mick making her way back toward them across the candlelit dining room. “You know, despite my reservations about having her there to witness all that nasty business, I can understand your need to have her close.”
“Oh yeah?” Quest propped his fist to his jaw as he too observed his wife’s approach. “Because she’s so lovely, right?”
“Of course,” Drake purred and accentuated the confirmation with a playful shrug. “Seriously though, a woman like that makes a man feel invincible.”
The friends were clinking glasses again just as Mick arrived. They both stood to greet her. Drake helped her into the vacant chair.
“Everything okay?” Quest reached over to brush his thumb across the back of her hand.
Mick whispered a hushed ‘thank you’ to Drake and then smiled for her husband. “Damon and Catrina decided to take Quinn for three nights instead of one and Sonja wanted to know if it’d be alright to go into the city with friends.” She explained, referring to their sitter Sonja Worliss. “I feel like I just interrupted something serious.” Her vibrant amber stare shifted between both men.
Drake offered a careless wave. “I’m always serious when discussing a beautiful woman.”
Michaela accepted the obvious compliment with a gracious dip of her head. “Still, I’m guessing you’d also want to discuss that meeting a couple of days ago?”
Drake’s ease didn’t wane. However he couldn’t resist slanting Quest a look.
Quest raised his glass to swirl gin and tonic water around the ice inside. “Told you we wouldn’t be able to keep her occupied with talk of all the winter festivals about to take place around here.”
Drake’s laughter was as full bodied as his Belgian accented voice. “You’re right Mick, that meeting is very prevalent in my thoughts, intense as it was.”
Mick seized the opening she’d been waiting on. “I take it the weapons division is near and dear to everyone’s hearts.”
“Near and dear to their pockets is more accurate.” Drake leaned back to finish off the rest of his bourbon.
Mick gave a quick toss of the onyx curls framing her dark face and sighed. “Guess it’s understandable people would be upset by the big money maker being taken off the table by the new kid on the block.” She studied Quest beneath the fridge of her lashes.
“Weapons have been the biggest source of pride for Ramsey since it was first put in place.” Quest shifted in the cushioned chair he occupied. “A black owned company acquiring defense contracts from private and government entities- not the norm by any means. Ramsey was one of the front runners in the game.” His lashes fluttered on the wake of rising disgust. The emotion marred his devastating features as he massaged his hands one over the other. “Somewhere along the way it all got out of control- corrupt. Money poured in like water while we created
terrifying products and sold them at top dollar to any who’d meet our price. Anyone Mick.”
She blinked, in perfect understanding of what he was telling her. She got why it all had to be shut down and the important statement he’d made by being the one to come and do it in person. Subtly, she drifted out of the conversation preferring to watch as Quest and Drake carried the discussion deeper.
Mick’s attention though, was more focused on her husband’s mannerisms. The glint in his striking stare and tone of his voice seemed changed somehow given the topic of talk. She had never felt more riveted or subdued.
~~~
“You okay?” Quest was asking Michaela once they were done with dessert.
Drake had said his goodnights about twenty minutes earlier yet Mick hadn’t felt much like conversing once she and Quest were alone. Clearing her throat softly, she did manage a nod in response to his question.
“Dance with me?” He offered his hand and stood when she put her fingers on his palm.
The soulfully erotic crooning of Les Nubians in the air relaxed Mick almost as much as the feel of Quest holding her snug and possessive against his lean athletic frame.
It wasn’t everyday a woman realized the true extent of her husband’s power. In the span of a week, Michaela’s perception of Quest had gone from knowing him as a smart, instinctive businessman to acknowledging his immense command and importance.
Whether or not he completely understood her mood, Quest was intent on soothing whatever had her unsettled. His beautifully sculpted mouth feathered a barely there kiss from her temple to jawbone. One hand cupped her upper arm, his thumb stroking along the dip at her elbow.
“Quest…” she breathed, lashes batting at the onset of the seductive tingles that threatened to buckle her knees. For support, her fingers curved about the lapel of his black suit coat. Helpless to resist the urge, she rubbed against him in a subtle fashion desperate not to let on to the other dancers how very aroused she was.
It was useless of course. To salvage just a bit of her dignity, she forced herself to still. “Don’t,” she moaned when he began to nip a diamond-adorned earlobe.
The Ramseys Boxed Set Page 129
