A Lover's Mask (13 page)

More on edge now, County rubbed her hands across the capped sleeves of the peach T-shirt she wore with matching boy shorts. “What are you doing here?” she asked again.

“Contessa…” Fernando's drawl clearly answered the question.

County shivered and rolled her eyes. “What are you
still
doing here?” she rephrased.

Fernando nodded, deciding to be serious. “Quest and I kept talking after you left with Mick. We put a serious dent in his liquor stash and I didn't think it'd be a good idea to get behind the wheel.”

“Very conscientious.”

“Not really,” he admitted, the eye-crinkling grin appearing. “I had ulterior motives.”

County propped her hands on her hips. “Nooo,” she sighed.

Strolling slowly, Fernando stalked until the distance closed between them. A lone finger extended to outline her breasts thrust so prominently against the snug tee.

“Ramsey…” County warned, even as her lashes fluttered in response to the sensation.

“Are you resisting me?” Fernando asked, crowding her space with his massive frame.

“We're not alone.”

Fernando's laughter filled the room. “Love, anyone who spends a night with Quest and Mick knows they always put guests on the other side of the house unless there's some big soirée. I can pretty much guarantee they're already…busy.”

“And you came here to follow in their footsteps?”

“Ah County, you wound me,” he murmured, his lips feathering her brow, temple, the curve of her cheek. “I thought what we did tested new boundaries.”

County felt her nipples grow rigid against his chest. “I'm flattered,” she breathed.

“I'd much prefer you agree.”

“Do you ever stop?” she laughed.

His hand curved around her neck. “Not until I get what I came for.”

“Me?”

“Mmm…”

Words were pretty much irrelevant then. Fernando's head dipped and his lips came down on County's in an erotic wave of emotion. Her cries were muffled in her throat as his tongue thrust deep, hot, relentlessly and he left no part of her mouth unexplored. She tried to be an eager participant in the kiss, but found that she much preferred Fernando's suckling her tongue, outlining her lips and caressing the roof of her mouth.

Her ample bottom more than filled his big hands. Fernando felt his arousal swell a bit more in an instant reaction. Placing her on the oak dresser, he worshipped her shapely legs and thighs with wet, openmouthed kisses and leisurely strokes from his tongue. County tugged her bottom lip between her teeth in an effort to smother her moans. He pushed her thighs farther apart, bringing his mouth to the extrasensitive junction he discovered. County jerked in response to his lips and teeth nipping and his hair roughened face grazing the satiny skin he found there. When his tongue thrust fiercely against the middle of her shorts, she arched closer for more of the torturous caress. His mock feasting on her womanhood was almost as satisfying as the real thing, County decided, feeling her own moisture soak her clothing. She was aching to arch her breasts into his hands when his fingers squeezed and rubbed the nipples still hidden beneath her top.

An impatient grunt rumbled within Fernando's chiseled chest and soon he was pulling Contessa from the dresser and placing her on the floor. She treated herself to a moment of feeling helpless and at his mercy while looking up at him from her spot on the luxurious black carpeting. Her fingers trailed the length of her body, disappearing inside the crotch of her shorts as she watched him undress. She cried out when she touched the velvety folds of her sex. His shirt cast aside, Fernando felt a stab of jealousy when he saw where her fingers were. Going to his knees, he pushed them aside, and then set about stripping the clothing from her body. He held her wrists on either side of her head while his teeth grazed her nipples. A devilish smile curved his mouth when her helpless gasps filled his ears.

“Please,” County sobbed, her toes insinuating themselves at the front of his trousers. Feeling the indescribable power straining near his zipper sent more moisture flooding onto her thighs.

Fernando left her breasts, traveling the length of her body until his nose caressed the bikini waxed, satiny smooth skin above her womanhood.

“Did I make you do this?” he teased, noticing the white cream upon her honey-toned thighs.

County was so weakened by desire she could only smile in response.

Fernando curved his hands beneath her bottom and began to dine on what he craved. He gave her a warning squeeze when she instinctively thrust against him. County splayed her fingers upon the carpet and tried to obey his silent request. Unashamed, she let loose her cries when his tongue ventured just slightly past the silky petals of her love.

He remained there for a while, lightly exploring, nibbling the bud of flesh he hungered for.

“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.

N
ot 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.”