“Please…oh, please,” County urged, needing to feel him fill her there. She bucked against his mouth when his tongue lunged deep, past the quivering flesh, inside her tight walls. County’s cries mingled with Fernando’s gravely moans. He seemed as affected as she, his tongue thrusting rapaciously as though he were determined to brand her with his mark. County felt his grip ease on her bottom and she began to thrust again, almost fainting from the increased sensation it provided. She was seconds away from climax when he stopped.
“Damn you,” she hissed, slamming a fist against the brick wall of his chest.
Fernando grinned, effortlessly lifting her from the floor to place her on her stomach in the center of the bed. County felt limp as a wilted flower, burying her face in a pillow when her moans showed no signs of growing silent.
His translucent brown stare caressed her sensational form—which he found impossibly sensational from behind. Pulling a condom from his pocket, he unzipped his trousers and let the rest of his clothing fall away. County felt his hands grip her waist and she arched back against him. With protection in place, Fernando impaled her onto his magnificent length. His fingers reached around to fondle her even as he took her from behind. One hand cupped her breasts and kept her in place to take every bit of what he wanted to give her. County chanted his name each time she ground herself against him. Fernando gnawed her shoulder, manipulating her nipple the same way he manipulated the sensitized bud of flesh at her womanhood. All the while his savage thrusts forced her to produce floods of creamy moisture that drenched his manhood and welcomed him even deeper inside her body.
Chapter 12
Not surprisingly, Contessa dreamed of only one man and all the delicious things he’d done to her the night before. She woke with a groan of pleasure the following morning. Her fingers splayed out across the bed in search of Fernando, but only touched cold sheets where he’d rested just hours earlier. She was disappointed and at the same time thankful that he’d gone before Michaela came knocking. Having her find the two of them cuddled in bed together would be too much for Contessa to take from her teasing friend. Still, a feeling of pure contentment warmed her as she stared up at the high ceiling. Her lashes fluttered and another round of sleep seemed like a perfect idea.
Turning to her side, County snuggled deep into the crisp sheets and other soft coverings. She was about to close her eyes when they fixed on her phone book. Bolting up, she grabbed the book and the cordless phone from the brass nightstand.
“Stefan Lyons office, please,” she requested when the switchboard operator inquired on how to direct her call.
“Stefan Lyons office, Sheila McPhereson speaking.”
“Yes, this is Contessa Warren. I’d like to make an appointment to see Mr. Lyons.”
“All right ma’am and may I ask what this is in reference to?”
County’s smile was not humor induced. “This is in reference to his constant and aggravating offers to buy my publishing house.”
“Please hold, Ms. Warren,” Sheila asked after a few seconds of silence.
County propped her bed pillows behind her and hummed along to the O’Jays “I Love Music” for about forty seconds before Sheila returned.
“Will tomorrow at one be good for you, Ms. Warren?”
“That sounds perfect,” County accepted.
“There will be lunch with Mr. Lyons in his office,” Sheila explained.
County tossed her phone book back to the nightstand. “I look forward to it,” she said and clicked off the phone.
Sheila wrote the date in Stef’s appointment book and then looked up at the man himself who sat perched on the edge of her desk.
“That woman sounds like she don’t play,” Sheila noted, leaning back in her chair. “Are you sure about meeting with her? Especially since there won’t be a sale resulting from it?”
Stef smiled and stroked his smooth jaw. “Only another man could understand the desire to meet with a woman who despises him so.”
Sheila’s brows rose. “Okay…” she sighed, reaching for her planning notebook. “So where would you like to have lunch ordered from?”
“You decide,” Stef instructed, leaning forward to press his hand over hers, “before you do that though, call Fernando. This is one meeting he shouldn’t miss.”
“Please don’t forget you share an office with your brother,” Tykira gasped in her husband’s ear.
“Who?” Quay asked, helping himself to the taste of his wife’s ample breasts when they bounced before his face. His attentions to that and other areas of her anatomy had Ty crying out sharply as her fourth orgasm settled in.
Quay was relentless. He never ceased his thrusts amidst her climax and loved the passionate picture she portrayed while straddling him on the chair behind his desk.
When they were both spent, Tykira cuddled close to Quay and her hair draped them in a lover’s covering. “Are you gonna miss me when I’m gone?” she asked, kissing his temple.
“Don’t ask dumb questions,” he warned, absently trailing his fingers along the outside of her thigh. “I do have serious reservations about this trip of yours, though.”
Tykira leaned back. “Why?”
“Because you won’t let me come with you.”
She nudged his nose with hers. “That’s because you have your own business to handle. Besides, a break from all this steamy sex might do us some good.”
“Mmm. Speak for yourself,” Quay groaned, a contented look coming to his darkly gorgeous face as he leaned his head back on his chair.
Ty uttered a helpless sound, feeling him stiffen inside her again. She leaned forward in response to the powerful length beginning to fill her. “I meant, it’d make it even better when I get back from Denver.”
“Damn Ty, could you just hush about Denver for a minute?” Quay asked, groaning as he held her bottom still for his thrusting.
Ty could barely get her words formed as she teased. “Only a minute?”
“Baby, do you want to meet at the restaurant for dinner?” Ty asked while fixing the belt at the waist of her coral wrap dress.
Quay sat watching her and cursing his arousal that was once again taking shape—literally. “We’ll leave from home,” he decided.
Tykira turned and fixed him with a knowing look. “Is that such a good idea?” she asked, sauntering closer to her husband.
Finally, Quay stood and put his own clothes in place. “What’s wrong with that?”
“We may never leave the house,” Ty predicted, laughing when he caught her wrist.
“I’m counting on it,” he growled against her neck and began to kiss her jaw.
Another throaty kiss ensued, but Ty maintained a level head. She managed to wiggle out of her husband’s embrace and blew him a kiss as she sprinted out of the door.
Quay watched her leave and then smiled. His eyes closed and he performed his daily ritual of thanking God for seeing fit to give him a life with Tykira Lowery.
“Yeah Jazz?” he greeted, when his phone buzzed some time later.
“Sorry Quay, but I’ve got a Lena Robinson on the line,” Jasmine announced.
Mind alert, Quaysar thanked his assistant and waited for her to patch the call through. “Hey Miss Lena,” he greeted in the most humble manner.
“Quay, how are you?” In spite of her cordial response, it was clear that Lena Robinson wasn’t eager to have the conversation.
“Miss Lena, thanks for returning my call and I won’t keep you long,” Quay promised, sensing the woman’s reluctance. “I just wanted to know if you’ve seen or talked to Wake? I haven’t spoken to him since late last year.”
“Quay do you think I’m fool enough to give you people my son?”
“Miss Lena, I—”
“I gave Wake to you once before,” Lena interrupted as sobs began to hinder her breathing, “I’ve regretted it ever since.”
“Miss Lena? What—what do you mean?”
“Oh, Quay, I know you’ve always
been a good friend to my baby.”
“I still am, Miss Lena,” Quay swore, his dark eyes narrowed with sincerity. “I’m not out to hurt him, Miss Lena. We all know who’s really responsible for Sera Black, but we need Wake to corroborate certain things.”
“Corroborate? Hmph. Wake has already put his life on the line too many times.”
“With who? Marcus?”
Lena gasped. “How—?”
“When I talked to Wake, he reminded me about how we met. When you came to interview with Uncle Marc…Anyway, that combined with the fact that Houston was responsible for Sera’s death and Marc made it possible for certain pieces of evidence to remain hidden and Wake telling me he was a cleanup man and with your connection to Marc…Miss Lena, putting him and Wake together just seemed to fit.” Quay silenced his lengthy explanation and prayed Lena would respond—confirm.
Shortly, the woman’s light sobbing turned heavy. “That bastard Marc originally made me think Wake would just be running errands, things that could parlay into an internship or a good job with Ramsey afterward. The money was good. A little too good to just be doing errands. It wasn’t until I saw him driving some woman around in one of Marc’s cars that—” She stopped herself to take a deep breath. “It was one of your uncle’s…women. Not his wife and that was just the tip of what I’d discovered. That’s when I quit. But, I—I couldn’t make Wake walk away. He’d never had money, but all his friends did and that’s a tough thing for any child to grow up with or without so to speak,” she cleared her throat and chuckled nervously. “When I finally realized what Marc was like, it was too late. Wake’s hands were dirty—not as dirty as your uncle’s but dirty enough to put my baby away and take his future.”
“Miss Lena will you tell me about it?” Quay probed in his softest tone.
“I’m sorry Quay, but I won’t,” Lena’s voice was firm. “My son has to live what little life he has and what I know…if Marc found out, he’d know it was me who told.”
“Miss Lena, Marc’s got way too much goin’ on to think about that.”
“Sweetie, are you talking about Houston?” Lena chuckled again. “Trust me, that devil has bigger horrors in his closet and you can best believe those horrors are still very much a part of his present. I won’t do anything you hear me? Anything to bring more harm to my son.”
“Miss Lena? Miss Lena?” Quay called, cursing softly when the dial tone sounded in his ear.
“Come in! Come in!” County called out when she woke hours later to heavy knocking on her bedroom door. “Oh, no,” she groaned, dropping her face back into the pillow when Michaela’s round face peeked inside past the door.
“Ooohwee,” Mick noted with a playful glimmer in her amber eyes.
“Don’t start,” County ordered, her voice muffled.
Mick walked in. “Start what?” she asked, pressing the door shut and leaning back against it. “Start asking why you’re all naked and tousled and still in bed at one p.m. or why I saw Fernando strollin’ downstairs looking all smug and satisfied?”
County raised her head from the pillow. “If you weren’t pregnant, I’d—”
“Please! County, this is great!” Mick laughed. “Fernando Ramsey is the last man I’d ever put you with, but now…”
“Go on,” County urged, sitting up in bed and tucking the sheet around her.
“Honey look at you,” Mick sighed, sitting next to her friend on the bed, “men fall to your feet like flies and it never causes you to bat a lash. You walk into a room where Fernando is and you’re like a flustered girl.”
“Flustered girl,” County repeated, her lips curving into a distasteful smile, “makes me sound weak and needy.”
“Not weak and needy. Content and happy.”
“Hmph,” Contessa grimaced, fixing Mick with a sad look. “My nephew/niece is turning your brain to mush. You know, I read somewhere that women are prone to lose brain power the farther along they get in their pregnancy.”
“Anyway,” Mick retorted, rolling her eyes. “And what’s with this nephew/niece thing? Don’t you have a preference? Everyone else does.”
“As long as it’s healthy,” County decided, spreading out the flared hem of Mick’s burgundy tee where it lay on the bed. “And since my being the kid’s auntie and godmother still doesn’t merit me knowing its sex, nephew/niece is the best I can do.”
Mick reached out to smooth a few tousled strands of County’s hair. “Can’t you be patient?”
County shrugged. “I just don’t get all the secrecy.”
Mick’s easy expression grew somber. “I’m just hoping my girl will bring this family closer.”
“Well she’s gonna have to do a lot of work to—wait. What did you say? A girl? I’m gonna have a niece?”
Tears pooled Mick’s eyes and she was only able to nod. She and Contessa laughed and cried while hugging tightly.
“I’ve been afraid of the sort of mother I’d make,” Mick admitted, closing her eyes as she savored the hug. “I’ve been so scared that I’d make the same mistakes with her that my mother did with me.”
County pulled back. “Not a chance.” She swore.
Mick nodded. “I appreciate your certainty.”
“Hell, yes, I’m certain. You’re my best friend, aren’t you?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
County gave her a haughty look. “’Cause I don’t make friends with idiots.”
Again, laughter mixed with tears as another round of hugs began.
“You know I’m going to try talking you out of this more than once.”
“And you know that I have to go,” Fernando told Jeff Carnes that morning when they met in Jeff’s office. “I have to see this for myself. It may be the only way to get my dad out of this family.”
“What if you’re recognized?”
Fernando clenched a massive fist. “I really don’t think that’ll happen.”
“And if it does?”
“That’s a chance I’ll have to take.”
Jeff regarded the powerful-looking young man seated before his desk. “I commend your bravery, son. I sincerely hope it won’t get you killed. These are the sort of people we’re dealing with,” he said, seeing Fernando bristle. “They’re evil, murderous sons of bitches and the fact that you’re Marc’s son will do little to protect you.”
“Hmph, that’s the one thing I don’t need to be told,” Fernando assured Jeff, grimacing at the sour taste that suddenly filled his mouth. “My dad put a crime ship in my name—his own son. Mr. J, I don’t think there’s much else that could surprise me.”
Memphis, Tennessee
Wood Stanton smiled curiously as he leaned against the doorjamb and watched the cloud of fluffy black hair bobbing behind the desk.
“You okay?” he called out finally.
The jet-black cloud ceased its bobbing and rose as its owner peeked over the desk. Melina Dan’s exotic black gaze narrowed even more when she produced a sheepish grin.
“Just a clumsy episode,” she admitted.
“Need any help?” Wood offered, pushing himself away from the door. Of course, Melina could’ve dropped a stick pin and had every man in the building ready to help her find it. Still, Wood wasn’t surprised when she turned down his assistance.
“Thanks anyway,” Melina called, her tone absent. Her fingers were poised over the spilled papers and the letter that had fallen from her desk drawer.
“Melina?” Wood called, noticing the look on her dark face.
“I’m okay, Wood,” she said quickly, gathering the other papers and setting them atop her desk. “Seriously, I’ve got it covered,” she assured, smiling when he nodded and left her office. Letting her easy look fade then, she stood behind the desk with the letter in hand. The French tips of her nails brushed across the envelope which bore only her first name scribbled across the front. She was seconds away from opening the envelope, knowing the contents by heart and knowing they would only torture her
emotions for the millionth time. On cue, it seemed, her private line buzzed.
“Thank you,” Melina whispered, setting the letter back to its resting place inside her top desk drawer. Clearing her throat, she pulled the phone from its cradle. “Hello?” she answered.
“Melina? This is Josephine.”
“Sheila McPhereson.”
County returned the smile to the woman who had just introduced herself as Stefan Lyons’s assistant. She’d just arrived for her appointment with Dark Squires and was more than ready for the meeting to commence.
“Right this way, Ms. Warren,” Sheila said with a wave past her desk. “Mr. Lyons has been anticipating your meeting since you called.”
“Well then, that’s something we have in common,” County said, smoothing both hands across the teal green asymmetrical skirt she wore with a white scooped neck tee. She hadn’t bothered to dress in her most severe business attire for the meeting. Stefan Lyons was not someone she had any desire to impress. Besides, she wanted to be comfortable when she told the man to go to hell and take his bullying, scavenging piece of crap company with him.
The executive floor of Dark Squires vastly differed from its lower levels, which were accessible only by glass stairway to the fifth floor. A visitor had a breathtaking view of the starkly designed company offices and cubicles that housed the loud, fast-talking wheelers and dealers of all sizes and colors. Following Sheila McPhereson down the wing to Stefan Lyons’s office, however, County could tell there would be none of that there. The soft hum of the cooling system could have been relaxing, except it wasn’t. The luxurious carpet, thick and giving beneath the soles of her teal wedge-heeled sandals should have been inviting, but it only reminded her more of the calm before the storm.
Still, Contessa managed to maintain her smile regardless of how faint it was. Her eyes harbored unmasked suspicion and intensity as Sheila opened the doors leading to the office suite.
“Ms. Warren, it’s a pleasure,” Stefan greeted, already heading toward the door as though he’d seen her approach.
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