County tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as his invasion forced a wealth of moisture past the petals of her love. She smiled when Fernando uttered a surprised gasp in response to the subtle contractions she applied to his length.
“Stop,” he groaned, squeezing her bottom in an attempt to control her movements.
She was full of wicked temptation. “Why?”
Fernando only groaned again, his impossibly long lashes fluttering as sensation overwhelmed him. His arousal lengthened and swelled even more each time he felt her walls tense purposefully around his manhood.
Reveling in her control over the massive god with the gentle touch, County assumed the lead. Slowly, she rode him: grinding ever so often, then easing off before he reached satisfaction. His hands were filled with her derriere, but he had no strength and rested his forehead against her shoulder. The foyer came alive with an ocean of deep male cries of pleasure. Soon, Contessa felt as powerless as Fernando. Her hips rocked and rotated as she sought to take all he had to give. At last, his grip tightened and he was thrusting up into her with shocking lunges that sent more moisture tumbling forth and sheathing his granite desire with her creamy need. Thoroughly weakened then, Contessa was merely a trembling mass. She held on to Fernando and increased the intensity of her ride, wanting to bring him to where she was. Fernando tried to resist, wanting the moment to last an eternity. County’s skill triumphed however, and soon he was moaning his approval into the hollow of her throat. Their physical needs were satiated for a time, yet the arousal continued to pulse like a living throbbing thing just below the surface. They remained on the stairs for quite some time, clutched in a heated embrace.
“What?” Fernando probed later, as he massaged her foot, ankle and calf while she lounged on the bed.
County’s smile was a mixture of laziness and curiosity. “I’d love to know how you made the transition from such a bad boy to a gentle masseur.”
Fernando chuckled, instantly igniting the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “That’s a long, ugly story,” he told her.
“With a happy ending,” she said and flexed her toes until he looked at her. “So that would definitely make it worth hearing,” she finished.
Fernando shook his head, his expression turning serious. “When I think about all the crap I used to pull…seems like it was a different guy.”
“What made you do it?”
Again, Fernando shook his head and concentrated on her other foot. “I believe for a while I thought I was just trying to get attention because my dad was so disinterested. That was a cop-out.”
A frown furrowed Contessa’s soft brow. “Why would you think that? It’s a perfectly understandable reason.”
“I’d have done it anyway,” he admitted, leaving her feet and coming to rest his head against her bare chest, “I had a lot of anger inside me, County. It needed a way out.”
“Anger at who? Your father?” she guessed, stroking his hair where it lay at his temple.
“Anger at the way things were,” he explained and clenched a fist near her hip. “Do you know lots of my best friends were guys who had no home, no food, barely had clothes on their backs? And there I was, bitchin’ ’cause my dad worked too much?” he said, pounding his fist to the bed with light, repetitive motions. “Hell, it was because he worked so much that I had everything I wanted.”
County pressed a kiss to his head. “A parent’s time is all a kid really needs.”
“A kid needs to eat, Contessa.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
Fernando grimaced. “It’s hard to look at that when I saw my boys goin’ to a shelter for dinner instead of their homes. Hmph, the ones who had homes were no better off,” he recalled, propping his fist against the side of his face while resting his weight on his elbow. “I met a guy who became one of my best friends while me and Pop were spending a father and son day together.” He grinned. “That was a laugh. My dad spent most of the day dragging me from one business meeting to another. We stopped by one of his apartment buildings. Another laugh,” he said, his brown eyes darkening as they traced the outline his fingers made across County’s stomach. “That building was barely standing. Nobody should have to live the way that guy and his mom did.”
“Fernando,” County soothed, hearing the pain color his voice when he spoke of his friend. She feathered his cheek with tiny kisses.
“That’s when I first started to lose respect for my father. To let a kid and his mother live that way—at least my friend was almost grown. I remember seeing real little kids runnin’ around half dressed, crying ’cause they were cold or a rat had just taken a nip at their toe.” Fernando shook his head and relaxed on the bed again. “I grew real close to that guy,” he said, thinking about Stefan Lyons then, “I was closer to him than my own brothers, I think. Pop even put him through school.”
“Marcus?” County probed, surprised and impressed. “Very generous to help a wayward kid like that,” she noted.
“I believe it was a genuine gesture,” Fernando admitted with a chuckle. “I don’t think my pop was always a conniving jackass. That time, I guess he just wanted to do a good thing,” he shrugged. “Maybe he’s acted so foul all these years because he was so used to everyone thinkin’ the worst of him and he just didn’t give a damn.”
“Is that how you were?” County asked, resting on her elbow to look down at him.
“I guess,” he admitted with a roll of his eyes.
County pressed her lips together and studied the striking breadth of his chest. She decided it would be the perfect time to tell him what was going on. Fernando, however, had other ideas. Her breast nudged his fingers and soon they were fondling and squeezing the nipple until it had firmed.
“Wait,” she whispered, her lashes already fluttering in response. “Fernando I have something to say.”
“Later,” he urged, moving to capture one nipple between his perfect teeth. His fingers fondled the other.
“Fernando…”
He rose, forcing her to lie back as he half covered her with his broad form. “Baby, I’m all talked out. Later? Please?” he whispered, his words growing faint as he buried his face between her breasts.
Contessa heard a low grumbling growl sound from the depths of his muscular torso and succumbed. “Ramsey,” she tried again.
“Let it wait,” he soothed.
Quest and Quaysar stood in a long hug. Their silent bond said more than any words could have. Clearly, they’d missed one another but Quest knew his twin had his reasons for staying away.
“So what now?” he asked when they’d stepped back from one another.
“Guess I’ll try dealin’ with Marcus,” Quay sighed, massaging the tight muscles in his neck, “I know it’ll be impossible to avoid it. Unless his ass is on the run too,” he added, with a grim smirk.
“And you know that won’t happen,” Quest said, slapping his brother’s shoulder as he stepped past.
“You’re sure?”
Stopping midstride, Quest sent his brother a narrowed gray black look. “You’re still on that?” he asked in disbelief.
Quay’s expression was answer enough.
“You still think Marc’s got somethin’ to hide?” Quest persisted.
“Please don’t tell me you think he’s lily white?” Quay snapped.
“Hell no, but murder?”
“It was good enough for Houston.”
“And tryin’ to frame us for it?” Quest challenged. “Remember, it was Houston who always had a beef with Pop.”
Quay rolled his eyes and headed toward the bar in his brother’s den. “I don’t know, Q. I guess I just want them fools out of this family so damn bad…before anymore crap turns up.”
“You say Wake told you he was a cleanup man for this guy?”
“Right.”
“And that the man he worked for hated dad with a passion?”
“Yeah and?”
“And
, it just makes more sense for this to be about Houston than Marc,” Quest decided, taking a seat on the sofa. “After all, it was Pop who took Ma off Houston’s arm.”
“Yeah,” Quay slowly agreed, using his index finger to stir the ice cubes in his glass of bourbon. “Something just doesn’t fit, there’s got to be more to it.”
“Quay—why’re you so worried about this?”
“Been on my mind since I’ve been away,” Quay shared, turning to face his brother. “What if Houston isn’t the only one with skeletons in his closet?”
“I think you’re reaching,” Quest said, crossing his jean clad legs as he rested his bare feet on the coffee table.
Quay’s eyes narrowed almost to the point of closing. “Reaching?” he parroted.
“Hell, yeah, you just want someone to take out your anger on because you can’t get your hands on Houston.”
“Dammit Q, can you blame us! Hell, it’s because of Houston that I lost all that time with Ty and that shit makes me mad enough to kill.”
Quest folded his arms across his chest and studied his brother closely. He knew Quay’s words were no idle threat. His temper was well earned and well feared. “Let it go Quay,” he urged softly. “Focus on what you have now instead of what you lost back then.”
Quest was right, as usual. Quay thought. “I just don’t trust myself to see the man,” he confided.
“I hope you’re not just saying this to get out of coming to the party,” Quest probed, his narrowing gray eyes twinkling with sudden humor.
Quay couldn’t help but chuckle. “Mick won’t have it, huh?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“You know Q, if you talked to her—”
“Hell no. I swear that girl’s gotten stronger since she’s been pregnant. One wrong word from me and she’s liable to hit me hard enough to loosen some teeth,” Quest predicted, joining his brother in hearty laughter. “Seriously though, man,” he said when they sobered, “just take it easy. Marc knows how everyone feels about him. With any luck, he won’t even show up.”
“All right. Tomorrow? Sounds good,” Fernando said as he arranged the meeting with one of the club’s other managers. “Was there any other information?” he asked.
Contessa walked into the kitchen then, wearing a lavender T-shirt that scarcely covered her bottom. Fernando’s attention was wholly focused on her as she went to study the contents of her cabinets. His call ended shortly and then he tossed aside the phone.
County smiled when she felt him behind her, massaging her hips before his hands curved around her thighs. He pulled her snug against his semi-hard arousal and for a time, they savored the embrace.
“Everything okay?” she asked after a while.
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured against her hair. “You hungry?”
“Starving,” County admitted, nudging his chest with the back of her head, “that sandwich didn’t hold out against our earlier activities.”
“Well then,” he said, squeezing her hips before setting her aside, “I should fix you something better. I don’t want you giving out on me later.”
“And what’s later?” County teased, her vibrant browns widening when he turned to tower over her.
“You know what’s later,” the bass of his voice rumbled.
County’s eyes lingered on his lips for a suggestively long time and soon after, she was crushed against Fernando’s chest. His tongue thrust harshly inside her mouth and she groaned, loving the pressure.
Fernando frowned, knowing he had to let her go before his hormones got the better of him.
“Get away from me,” he ordered, putting at least five feet of space between them.
County obeyed and chose a spot on one of the bar stools lining the counter. The easy look she wore seemed to fade after a while and she appeared serious. Deciding then, that the time for stalling was over, she began to speak, telling Fernando all she’d discovered.
As she spoke, his movements slowed. By the time she was done, he’d turned away from the stove and simply watched her. County cleared her throat, dragging her eyes away from the slow steady rise and fall of his bare chest. “You know, I am investigating your family for this book so I have every right to be looking into things like this,” she rambled, not caring for the set look on his face.
Suddenly, Fernando smiled, easing his hands into the deep pockets of the sleep pants he’d taken to leaving at Contessa’s house and which were presently slung low on his hips. “My guys are slow,” he acknowledged softly, “I only got the call about the girls working on the ship while we were in the car.”
“Wait, you—you didn’t know?” County asked, blinking steadily.
Fernando shrugged. “I’ve known about the girls working on the ship for about four hours. It’s why I’m meeting with my managers. I discovered I owned the ship a couple of days ago.” He explained and turned back to the stove. “Why’d you tell me this?” he asked, selecting the temperature for the oven.
County propped her chin against her fist. “Because a woman shouldn’t keep such things from the man she loves.”
Silence held the kitchen captive for the longest time. At last, Fernando turned.
Contessa already knew what words waited on his breath. “I felt this way long before you told me,” she admitted.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked in whisper.
“Pride wouldn’t let me,” she lowered her gaze to the counter. “I couldn’t risk not hearing you say it back to me because at first I thought I was just floating on a cloud of lust and infatuation. Now, I believe it’s more than that.” She looked at him. “I feel I can go a little longer without my mask when I’m with you.”
Fernando stroked the side of his beard. “A little longer? You feel you still need to wear it?”
“I’ve worn it so long,” she sighed, “Mick’s been the only one who could see the real me, but even then…”
“What?” he prodded, taking a stool next to her.
Raking all ten fingers through jet black locks, County grimaced. “I think I’ve let that mask slip into place around my dearest friend. Mick’s got the wrong idea about me on so many things and honestly, Ramsey, I’ve done my best to give her those ideas. For so long I’ve told myself I don’t want or need love. Physical satisfaction would do on occasion because I had more important things to contend with. Hmph, I guess I’ve even been wearing that mask for myself.”
“We all do,” Fernando said, nudging her shoulder with his own. “When there are things we can’t admit to ourselves about ourselves.”
County’s fingers toyed with his while she marveled at the manner in which his hand practically engulfed her own. “I only know that I wanted to be honest with you. I want you to know everything about me and that’s dangerous.”
“Why dangerous?”
“The people who know the most about you can hurt you the most because they have more to hurt you with.”
Fernando watched as she lowered her eyes to shield the pain he knew dwelled there. “You believe I’d hurt you?”
“I don’t know and in spite of that I still can’t pull away from you,” she squeezed his hand. “That scares me.”
Fernando pressed a kiss to the top of her head. This time, it was his turn to debate. It didn’t take him long to decide that the time had come for him to tell her he was part owner in the company trying to take Contessa House. He was opening his mouth to voice the confession when the sound of his cell phone pierced the air.
County amused herself tracing the patterns imbedded within the countertop. She froze when she heard him whisper—“What?” into the phone. With effort, he managed to thank the person on the line and then end the call. She waited, wondering if he’d tell her. She didn’t have long to wait.
“Houston’s in jail,” he said.
Chapter 10
Michaela’s plump, dark brown face glowed more than usual as she watched the limo rounding the horseshoe drive. She screamed when County final
ly emerged from the back of the car sent to fetch her from the airport courtesy of Ramsey Group. The two met on the steps of the massive front porch and hugged for the longest time. They stood talking about everything and nothing—trying to catch up in the span of ten seconds.
“This tummy of yours,” County sighed when they pulled out of another hug. “Are you sure there’re no twins in there?”
“Hush,” Mick chastised, smacking Contessa’s shoulder, “and what’s going on with you? I thought only us pregnant ladies glowed like that.”
“What?” County asked, her voice still colored by laughter.
“You look beautiful.”
County shrugged. “I always look beautiful.”
Mick rolled her eyes. “Well, this time someone other than you can see it,” she jibed, shrieking playfully when County tugged on one of her curls. “Seriously though, you look radiant—even if you’re not smiling.”
“I guess the plane ride was surprisingly good. Not to mention riding in luxury from the airport,” County excused with a flip wave.
Mick folded her arms such that they rested atop her belly. “It’s more than that…who is he?”
“Jeez Mick, just ’cause you’re all goo-goo over love doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” County blurted, averting her gaze to hide her nerves.
Mick was far from convinced. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until you’re ready to share.”
“Anyway,” County groaned, finding a place to slip her sunglasses into her bag, “so tell me about Houston,” she asked, desperate for a subject change.
“Girl, it’s been all the talk,” Mick said, easing both hands into the pockets of her pink linen capris.
“Details?”
“It’s strange,” Mick admitted, her amber gaze narrowing suddenly, “he eluded capture all those months and then gets himself picked up at a restaurant. He was just sitting out in the clear blue like everything’s everything.”
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