The Dragon (G.O.N.Y. - Double Dragon)

by Dubrinsky, Violette

  “This doesn’t change anything,” Jezebel managed on a sigh.

  It did.

  Leaning forward, Ramsey kissed her. Unlike his previous kisses, this one was soft and gentle and not meant to arouse. It just was. When he pulled away, her eyes were glazed, her breathing shallow. He pressed her back against the bed, and covered her, careful to brace himself on his elbows before he crushed her.

  He shifted his hips and groaned when his cock brushed her slippery heat. Jezebel gasped, her head falling back before her eyes snapped to his, alert. “Condom.”

  Ramsey frowned. Why? He hadn’t been with anyone…but she’d been with Brandon.

  “Did you use them with Brandon?” he growled. He was jealous. He had no right to be and he didn’t care.

  “Always,” she hissed.

  He was off of her in seconds, moving to the end table beside his bed, and searching for the box he kept there. Ramsey hoped they weren’t expired because if they were, Jezebel would have to come to terms with the lack of condom use. After applying the lubricated rubber, Ramsey moved back to the bed. Jezebel was on her side, watching him. He slid onto the bed and rolled onto her, pressing his lips to hers to prevent her from saying things that would upset him. When her arms slid around his neck, and she began to strain against him, he reached between them and worked his cock against her.

  “Ohh!” Her moans urged him on. He pressed against her entrance slowly, biting his lip as he slid into the tightest heat he’d ever known. Lost in her body, Ramsey kept going, stroking her tongue as she accepted him. When she whimpered, he paused.

  “Okay?” he breathed. He didn’t want to hurt her, especially in her pregnant state.

  Two heartbeats later, she nodded and murmured, “Yes. Just go slow.”

  Heeding her advice, he retreated and pressed back into her, dragging a heated cry from her lips. She’d already taken half of him so he pressed on further, eager to have her take all of him as he knew she could.

  She clutched his arm and he stopped. “Too much.”

  “I’m sorry,” he breathed, kissing her lips in apology. He was hurting her. Ramsey retreated, pulling almost completely from her slick channel, before pressing forward again. He moved slowly, careful to make sure he didn’t press too far against her, before Jezebel began to work her hips against him. Her hands slid down his back, to his buttocks and she moaned, “Faster.”

  “Sure?”

  She nodded. He obliged, feeling her open further for him. She was amazing. Her breasts bounced as he fucked her, and Ramsey was torn between continuing his thrusts and sucking the dark areolas.

  “Ramsey, I’m―” She broke off to moan. “Ooh! Oh! I’m…”

  “Coming?” He moved faster, harder. Leaning close to her ear, he growled, “Come, Jezebel. Come for me like you always do.”

  Her body jerked as her sex clutched him repeatedly. “Ram-Ramsey!”

  ***

  She awoke cocooned in warmth.

  With a smile, Jezebel snuggled further into the blanket, a blanket that was skin smooth with hard muscles. Her smile faded as an all too familiar ache penetrated her senses. Memories rushed back and she barely resisted the urge to groan. Shit! She’d slept with him, both literally and figuratively. Here she was, the scorned ex-lover who’d found out her well-to-do boyfriend was a dangerous gangster, back in his bed. It hadn’t even taken that much persuading. One kiss and her body, pregnant or not, was ready to forget all of the bad things he’d done, all of the bad things he’d continue to do. She was disappointed with herself.

  Jezebel tried to move, to slide out from under his arm and the blanket, but his grip only tightened. Ramsey inhaled deep, which caused her to freeze. He ended up pulling her closer, her back pressed to his chest as his hand slid down her front. He cupped her belly and muttered something unintelligible before his breathing evened once more.

  With a scowl, she spied the digital clock on his end table. The bright green letters told her it was just after midnight. She waited a few minutes, thinking back on what they’d done, how good it had felt, and why it could never happen again, before she attempted to move his arm again. This time, there was no resistance. Trying her best not to make a sound, she dragged herself to the edge of the bed and began feeling her way around it until a thought occurred to her and made her freeze: how was she going to find her clothes in the dark? The answer was simple: she couldn’t. After a few internal groans and headshakes, she made a decision. So what if she turned on the light and he woke up? They’d had sex. They were adults. She was going back to her room.

  Jezebel had made her way over to the end table when a tortured cry made her stop. When moments later, there was nothing but silence, she wondered if she’d imagined it. It was quiet enough in the room to hear a pin drop so it was possible her mind was playing tricks. It came again, and this time, words accompanied it.

  “No!” Ramsey moaned. “Nooo!”

  She flicked on the lamp and gasped at what she saw. Ramsey was twisting in the blanket, his eyes closed, the chords of his neck prominent, his face a mask of such pain, she couldn’t help but feel it.

  “No!” His head shuffled back and forth on the pillow as a fine sheen set his body to glistening.

  “Ramsey!” she called, raising her voice when he didn’t acknowledge her. “Ramsey!”

  He just continued on, twisting, writhing, saying “No” over and over again. It wasn’t until he moaned an anguished “Lily!” that Jezebel rushed forward, climbing onto the bed to go to him. This close, she could see that tears fell from beneath his closed lids. She felt sick.

  “Ramsey!” She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Ramsey, wake up! You’re dreaming!”

  He sat up so quickly he almost bowled her over. “Lily!” Jezebel pulled back just in time, watching as he looked around, his breathing growing steady, and focused. When his eyes caught hers, she knew he was fully aware of what had happened.

  Without a word, he moved to the edge of the bed. His shoulders heaved once, twice, and then he was still.

  “Ramsey.” She whispered it, afraid to say it louder lest she scare him. Right now, he seemed so…fragile, as if the simplest thing could send those broad shoulders down.

  He stood, ran a hand along his face, and walked in the direction of the bathroom. Jezebel watched as he disappeared behind the door. He obviously wanted to be alone. She found most of her clothes, she couldn’t find her bra or panties so she went commando, and dressed quickly. She was at the bedroom door when she paused and turned to the bathroom. Shaking her head because she knew it was a bad idea, Jezebel walked over to the bathroom and pushed the door in.

  Bright light instantly assaulted her and she squinted as her eyes adjusted. Stepping along the cool, almond-colored tile, she walked in, passing a glass-encased shower with warm brown tiles and a large, claw foot tub before she saw him. Standing before the sink, his hair dripping onto his chest and back, Ramsey stared into the mirror.

  As soon as she entered his peripheral, he looked at her, but made no move to speak or acknowledge her presence. “I just wanted to make sure…”

  In the mirror, his moustache broadened as his lips lifted. It wasn’t a smile. His eyes were too dead for that. “Make sure what, Jezebel? That I’m okay? That everything’s fine?” He nodded. “Everything’s fine.” He spread his arms out as if to show her. “See?”

  She nodded. That was what she’d come for, and now that she had seen it, she could leave. Her feet refused to move.

  “Still here?”

  Although she didn’t answer the question, she walked forward, pausing only when she was a few inches away from him. “What happened to your face?” In the brighter light, she could see faint red and purple marks along his cheek. What looked like a small gash was at the side of his head, just above his brow.

  Ramsey shrugged and ran a hand down his face. “The other guy looks much worse.”

  At her hitched breath, he smirked and turned to face her. “Go ahead,” he m
urmured. “Ask me.”

  “Ask you what?”

  “Ask me if the other guy was some poor innocent I beat within an inch of his life because he didn’t have my money.” When she only glared up at him, he seemed to contemplate it then added, “Maybe he was a gangster. You wouldn’t feel so bad if it was a gangster, would you, Jezebel? Of course not because gangsters are evil, dishonorable people who get what they deserve, right?” She looked away briefly and he released a deep breath. “Go to bed, Jezebel.” He turned around and turned the faucet on. She was dismissed. As he washed his face, she knew she should leave, walk away, but again, some part of her refused to leave. Even as she fought a war with herself, her feet remained planted to his bathroom tiles.

  When the faucet went off and Ramsey straightened once more, there was no smirk on his face. He moved around her and she turned. Ramsey grabbed a clean, folded towel and wiped his face and hair. He finished and tossed the towel into a tan-leather box that opened to reveal what she assumed was a hamper.

  “What?” He asked the question in a firm tone.

  “You should see someone about that,” Jezebel murmured. When he lifted a brow, she clarified. “The nightmares.”

  “You’ve never had a nightmare before?”

  Of course she had. Everyone had nightmares, but Ramsey’s initial reaction to the nightmare told her it wasn’t the first time he’d had it. He’d seemed accustomed to it, losing all anxiety once his eyes opened.

  “How many times have you had this one?”

  He shook his head. “You’re not my therapist and you were already serviced, remember? You don’t have to stick around.”

  God, he made her sound like a car or worse, and perhaps more fitting, a mare. At her offended glare, he added, “Anyone could have done it.”

  Jezebel sighed. She didn’t want to fight. Moving in front of him, she spoke, “You should see someone about the nightmares. Good night, Ramsey.”

  He didn’t respond but she hadn’t expected him to. In the hallway, Jezebel faced another dilemma. It was pitch black and she didn’t know where the light switch was. She could walk back into the room and ask Ramsey, but navigating to her room in the empty hallway was preferable. Closing her eyes, she waited seconds for an adjustment to the darkness, before blinking and using her hand along the wall to move. Her bedroom was just two doors down from Ramsey’s. She’d taken countless steps when the light flicked on, blinding her.

  She heard footsteps and turned in time to see an angry Ramsey approaching. He was still shirtless but had put on black boxers. He didn’t stop until he was so close he brushed her body, and then, he leaned down and snipped, “Next time, ask me to turn the light on.”

  Disliking his temper, hers reared its head. “I didn’t need your help. My room isn’t that far from yours and I was doing fine!”

  “And you could have tripped over the potted plants…” He pointed at the large plant a few steps away. “…and hurt yourself.” A terrifying look came over his face and Jezebel took a step back. He followed, until once more, she was braced against the wall. His eyes, already a shiny onyx, grew darker. “Is that what you’re doing? You’re being reckless hoping you’ll have an accident and lose my baby?”

  Of all the stupid, idiotic, bastardly things to say to her, that had to be the worst. If he was trying to make her angry, he succeeded. She pushed him, and when he barely moved, pushed him again. Moving out from between the wall and the hard, angry place that was Ramsey Stone, she spun to confront him. “I know you’re hurt and angry, but you don’t get to take it out on me!” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “I didn’t do anything to you! You lied about everything, you tricked me into loving someone who doesn’t exist, you made me give up my life, you almost got me killed, and now you accuse me of wanting to get rid of my baby?”

  Pain flickered in his eyes but it disappeared quickly. Anger was once more in place. “It would be easier for you and Erickson.”

  “Brandon?” she scoffed. “He has nothing to do with you! Worry about your own personal life before you worry about mine.”

  Jezebel turned to walk away but he caught her arm and spun her around. “You are my personal life.”

  “Fuck you!” she hissed. “I’m my own personal life. This child is a part of you, and when he comes, you can say he’s a part of your personal life. Until then, what I do and with whom is none of your goddamn business!”

  She tugged at her arm, and when he refused to release her, snapped, “Let go of my fucking arm!” God knew she was no sailor, and had never had the desire to swear like one, but Ramsey brought out the bad in her. This was the other reason she had to get away from him.

  “So you can flick off the light, trip over your feet and lose my kid?” he hissed, walking and dragging her along. “I don’t think so.”

  Angry that she was being handled like a ragdoll by the overbearing idiot next to her, Jezebel hissed, “If I was going to get rid of your child, I would have done it when I was lying on the operating table, waiting for the doctor to come and suck him out of me!”

  He released her.

  Jezebel barely had time to revel in the victory because she was back against the wall so fast, she grew dizzy.

  “What did you say?”He might as well have roared it for the impact it had.

  “I said,” she began, going onto her toes just to get closer to his face. “If I wanted to abort this baby, it would have been done months ago!”

  She could have sworn she heard his jaw crack. “You were going to abort my child?” She didn’t feel good about it but Jezebel nodded once. “You were going to abort a child I didn’t even know about?” She remained quiet. Ramsey stepped back and watched her with confused eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Where the fuck were you?” she returned, following him. “Oh, that’s right. I was in protective custody. Do you remember why? Because I came to your apartment and asked you if I needed it since you were the reason I was in danger, and you couldn’t give a shit! Remember that?”

  “You were going to kill my baby.”

  Jezebel sucked in a breath and steeled herself against the traces of pain she heard in his voice. “I didn’t want to bring a child into a world where his mother was on the run and his father was a goddamn mafia gangster!”

  “You were going to abort my child.”

  She swallowed but remained firm. “I didn’t.”

  He turned his back to her. “Go to bed, Jezebel.”

  “That’s it?” she snapped. “Argument over because Ramsey says it is?”

  Ramsey looked over his shoulder, his face calm, almost serene. His eyes told another story. Onyx eyes were bright, glinting with anger. “Walk down the hallway and go into your room, Jezebel.”

  “Giving me orders, Ramsey?” She smirked, trying to appear at ease despite the torrent of emotions rolling through her. “What am I, your dog?” She shook her head. “Your wife?” She laughed. “Your slave? We both know the answer to that one.”

  He turned away from her. “I’m not in the mood to play games with you, Jezebel.”

  “I didn’t know we were playing.” She shrugged. “Next time, you might want to warn me about it ―hey!” Before she could step out of his way, Ramsey grabbed her arm again, and this time, dragged her all the way to her door.

  “Get in!” It was the middle of night and although he spoke in a voice that was just above a whisper, she still heard the threat.

  “I already told you, I am not your goddamn dog!” He pushed the door open, and pulled her in. When the door slammed shut, locking them both in the darkness, she hissed, “Do you get off on dragging women around like some barbaric Neanderthal?”

  “No.”

  She blinked in an attempt to adjust to the darkness. Jezebel could make out nothing. “No?”

  “It takes much more than that to get me off.” Something about the way he said it set off alarm bells in her head.

  “Whatever,” she muttered. “I’m in my room. You can leave
now.”

  Ramsey laughed, but for all the humor it possessed, he might as well have kept it in. “I don’t want to leave now.”

  She swallowed, simultaneously moving her way along the wall. Where was that light switch?

  “I want to talk about getting off.” Jezebel didn’t respond, just continued along the wall, rubbing her hands along to find the switch. It was near the door, wasn’t it? “Jezebel?” She froze as footsteps approached. Suddenly hands were around her waist. “Where were you going?”

  “Get away from me.”

  “No,” he murmured, bracing his forehead against hers as his body boxed her in. “You see, I’m convinced you wanted me to come in here so you can get me off.”

  She scoffed. It was becoming clear that the man was wired wrong. “You have a hand with five capable fingers.”

  “So do you.” He pressed against her and she felt his hard erection against her belly. “See what you’ve done?” When she didn’t respond, he pressed his lips to her ear. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “You’re insane!” she hissed. “You got hard from fighting with me and you think I did it on purpose? You’re out of your goddamn mind…”

  When his lips pressed against hers, she turned her head aside. When he followed, his moustache dragging along her skin until his lips found hers again, she bit him. He hissed and pulled away. Her relief was short lived because moments later, he lifted her clear off the ground. She clutched him…in fear, of course, as he moved around the dark room. When he deposited her on the edge of the bed, she pushed him away. He caught her hands, pulled them up and pressed her into the bed. As he came down on her, half of his body pressed to hers as the other half hung over the bed, she snarled, “I hate you!”

  “Oh, baby,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her neck, her chin, licking her cheek. “Right now, the feeling’s mutual.”

  He kissed her, swirling his tongue along her tense lips until she began to relax. Feeling her resistance drop, Jezebel grew frantic. Turning aside, she bit out, “Didn’t you get enough already?”