The Masseuse (18 page)

Since Ramsey’s return just over a month ago, they’d spent most weekdays and weekends together. He’d met her sister over dinner, and had withstood two hours of intense grilling from Delilah without breaking so much as a sweat, or losing his smile. Even Delilah had been impressed, though she’d also said he was “too cool.” Ramsey had also taken Jezebel on “picnic dates” with Lily, whom Jezebel fast understood was one of the most important people in Ramsey’s life. Although he was Lily’s uncle, the young girl treated him more like a father, calling him “Uncle Ramsey” while calling her own father “Bastian” in the tone one reserved for an annoying sibling. Jezebel found it odd, but didn’t question it. Ramsey always clammed up when she asked about his relationship with his brother, and although he’d told her they were close, she sensed there were major unresolved issues there. Considering Ramsey’s mother was in Korea, and he had issues with his brother, she wasn’t sure she should be so bothered that she hadn’t met any of his other family, but the fight they’d had at his apartment made her push for a “meeting.”

He’d been concerned about her meeting his aunts, uncles and cousins, which told her they were important to him. As such, she’d hinted that this meeting needed to happen and soon, and Ramsey had been accommodating. Two weeks from now, Ramsey was hosting a dinner party at his home for family members, and well, she was the guest of honor.

Ramsey suddenly stole the ball from Eric, sidestepped Jennie’s husband, Winston, leapt into the air, and dunked it. His Nike shorts and sneakers, which he’d brought over for morning jogging, had finally come in handy.

“Definitely the best block party we’ve ever thrown,” Jennie murmured, and both she and Maggie shared a laugh.

“You girls aren’t ogling my husband, are you?” The question came from the only sane woman left in her circle: Dani. Maybe that was because her man, whom Jezebel admitted was beautiful if one were into, well, men…was being ogled too. He was a shirt, but the thin white shirt he wore was plastered to his body, and the
eight-pack
he had was on perfect display. Eric Marx was quite beautiful, she thought in the most technical way possible. Sandy blond hair and pale blue eyes made him favorable to the ladies.

Maggie and Jennie denied any such behavior, flushing to their bleached roots as they professed their undying love for their husbands. When they were finished, they looked guiltily at both Dani and Jezebel before focusing back to the game hastily.

“Well, I guess I’m the only hussy here because I’m ogling all of the skins and some of the shirts,” Paige murmured, shocking even Jezebel as Paige was the timid wife. She wasn’t as beautiful as some of the other women, but that was because she hardly put effort into her appearance, instead tending her garden and the gardens of anyone who allowed her access. Paige was the nature lover; her husband, the botanist.

“Paige!” Joanne chided, trying and failing to suppress her laughter.

“Joanne, it’s not funny!” Jennie muttered, but her eyes were twinkling. “It’s not!”

As they all laughed, even Dani, who was trying to keep up her glare, Jezebel decided she could either be mad with them all, or be damn proud of Ramsey’s magnetic sex appeal.

At that moment, someone called a timeout, and Ramsey, shiny from sweat, hair and body glistening, made his way over. She grabbed a bottle of water from the small cooler at the foot of her deckchair and held it out for him. With a grin, he took it, uncorked the top, and drank a few mouthfuls, before handing it back to her.

Before she could do anything else, he leaned down and caught her lips. His cool lips were welcomed, and she opened her mouth for the icy press of his tongue. Ramsey pulled away slightly to ask, “Enjoying the game?”

She could care less about the game. “Enjoying the view.”

For the briefest of seconds, his eyes narrowed. “Which view?”

Ramsey Stone had never struck her as the jealous type, but more and more, she realized he was. He just kept it hidden. “This view.” She allowed her eyes to run down his chest, and then back to his face.

“I’m glad I’m keeping you entertained.”

“You are.” She looked across to the other married women, and realized they were eyeing both Ramsey and Eric, who’d come for water from Dani, as if they couldn’t decide who they wanted to ogle more. “You’re keeping all the wives entertained as well.”

Ramsey shrugged. His eyes moved down her body and he lifted a brow and grinned. “I love these things.”

The “things” he referred to were her strapless or thin strapped summer dresses. If there was one thing she adored about summer, it was the bright colored dresses and sandals. Even a workaholic like herself liked looking good and staying cool, and maxi dresses made it happen.

“I’m sure you do.” She rolled her eyes. He liked the easy access. Because of the thin, flimsy material, he could undo a strap here and lift the dress there, and have her exposed in seconds. He’d done it a few times at parks when the sun was setting, and more than a few times in her backyard, as they lay out in the sun…well, as he lay out and she kept him company.

“Scores 15 Skins, 13 Shirts,” Clark the botanist announced. He was the scorekeeper.

“Give me something for luck, baby,” Ramsey murmured.

Jezebel could swear she heard more than a few sighs. Leaning forward, she kissed him, sliding her fingers into his wet hair, and sucking on his tongue a bit more intensely than she would have had three married woman not been ogling him. She wasn’t worried about Dani—she had her own eye-candy—or Delilah, she was her sister and knew better.

When she pulled away, Ramsey lifted a brow, grinned, and nipped at her bottom lip. He moved off, and she turned to find the three staring at her with stupid smiles. Jezebel watched Ramsey play. They could ogle him all they wanted. It wasn’t like any of the broads—yes, broads—stood a chance.

The block party ended when the sun went down, but Jezebel wasn’t outside to find out. After Ramsey and the other Skins had won the game, she’d followed him into the house, where she’d taken advantage of her sweaty, musky man. Ramsey had been all about showering and rejoining the festivities, and she’d been all about to inhaling his manly musk as he rode her to completion. She’d gotten her wish. Well, they both had. After he’d taken her against the bedroom wall, Ramsey stripped her out of her barely attached clothing, and showered with her. If not for partial heat exhaustion, Jezebel might have made good on their time in the shower as well, but she was damn tired. Ramsey sensed it, and instead of pawing at her body as he usually did, settled for massaging her shoulders, her back, her arms, as he soaped her skin and washed her clean.

By the time she was towel dried, she was shivering slightly from the central air and ready for bed. Jezebel briefly remembered Ramsey slipping a thin lingerie piece over her head and placing her under the covers.

“Ramsey.” She gripped his hand, trying hard to fight sleep. Why was she so tired? It wasn’t like she’d just played a game of basketball in the hot sun. She’d done very little today, though she had been up since 5 a.m. preparing chicken and steak for Ramsey to grill. And it had been hot outside. Maybe she was suffering from heat exhaustion.

“Sleep, baby.”

“Are you going back outside?” She didn’t mind. Not really. Okay, maybe she did mind him being ogled by a
bunch of wives
while she wasn’t around.

“Just for a few minutes.” He stroked her cheek. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

Would that make her seem needy? Jezebel wondered. She wasn’t turning into one of those women, was she? She almost shuddered. Not if she could help it. “No.”

Ramsey smirked. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

Nodding, she rolled onto her side and allowed the darkness to claim her. “Okay.”

***

“Where’s Jez?”

Ramsey barely suppressed his urge to grab Eric Marx by the throat and shake him for referring for Jezebel so intimately. In the past month, he’d had his fair share of encounters with Danielle and Eric Marx, and while Danielle seemed normal, there was something about Eric that goaded Ramsey. The man was cocky, overly sure of himself, and seemed to think he could do whatever he wanted around females because he was attractive. Ramsey guessed that was the perfect attitude for a successful salesman, but that didn’t mean he had to like or tolerate it.

“Her name’s Jezebel,” he replied, using tongs to place the left over pieces of barbeque into plastic containers. Delilah was helping as well—she was currently giving out bottles of water and soda to the neighborhood children who were still running around as if the weather wasn’t pushing a hundred degrees.

“Ah, of course,” Eric muttered with an easy laugh. “Sorry, mate. I just call her what Dani calls her.”

Ramsey looked directly into those strange blue eyes. He hated them along with the man’s English-American accent. They only seemed to make him more appealing to females. Ramsey had caught Jezebel staring at him curiously a few times and though he knew she wasn’t attracted, he hadn’t liked it. “Don’t.”

“Got it.”

As he nodded, Eric looked around. “So, are you thinking of joining the club?”

“What club?” he asked drolly.

“The husband’s club?” Eric chuckled when Ramsey lifted a brow. “The guys are curious. We see you here almost every weekend, so we figured it’s just a matter of time.”

“Do the guys also knit together and hold book club meetings?” he asked in a serious voice.

Eric’s smile never faltered. “They might, but I’m curious because I’d like to start a basketball team…you know, just for fun. Maybe we can play other block associations.”

It was a decent idea, Ramsey guessed. If Clark or Winston or any of the others had brought the idea to him, he would have been far more accommodating, but it was Eric…shirtless, blue-eyed, Eric who irked him.

“Tell you what…”

“What?”

Eric smiled. “You think about it, let us know? You’re pretty good and the guys could definitely use you.”

Ramsey nodded once and watched him walk across the street and two houses over to where Dani stood, waiting. She waved to him and he lifted a hand. Just because he didn’t like her husband, didn’t mean he had to dislike Dani. He’d learned that Dani was half-black, half-Chinese, and every-time he saw the exotic looking woman, he couldn’t help but think about his future children. They’d look similar. The thought made him smile. He wondered if his sleeping beauty had thoughts like that.

Making his way into the house, he placed the containers into the refrigerator and walked upstairs. Delilah was spending the weekend and still outside. She’d close up when she came in. He’d stripped out of his shirt and was about to get under the covers with Jezebel when his phone beeped.

Vince.

Stepping into the bathroom, he closed the door and answered. “Yes?”

“We’ve got a problem.”

Obviously. Vince didn’t call him unless there was a problem or he was reporting on an assignment. Since he’d had no assignments for the past month, it could only be a problem.

“What?”

“Pigs.”

Ramsey frowned. Pigs, rats, they were all the same. At the end of the day, they still squealed. “How many?”

“Could be one, could be many.”

“On our side?”

“Can’t tell right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He heard the sound of a keyboard clacking the distance. “Everything’s too perfect. Numbers don’t lie and these add up too well. Plus, everything’s been very quiet…abroad.”

If Vince thought they were pigs, they’re likely were. Vince was hardly wrong about these things, and even when he was wrong, it was because something legitimate set him off.

“Find them.”

“On it.”

Ramsey hung up, and stared down at the phone in his hand. Turning on the faucet, he held it under the water until the light dimmed and it went out, before tossing it into the trash. If they had a squealer, they likely were being trailed, which meant phones were bugged, houses, apartments…

He looked around Jezebel’s bathroom, stepped out and looked around the bedroom. Everything seemed in order, but they were good, and had gotten better. It was impossible for them to touch his apartment—it was too secure and they knew it—but Jezebel’s house was fair game. There were no cameras and her security system was weak at best.

Ramsey went to the bag he kept in her closet, and reached in, pushing past clothes to the box at the bottom. Retrieving it, he removed a new cellular phone and charger before replacing the box, and closing the closet door. He attached the charger and plugged the phone in to charge, memorizing the number at the back, before lifting up to survey the room again.

“Ramsey?” He looked to the bed, where Jezebel now sat up, red-eyed and staring at him curiously. “Is everything okay?”

He made his way over, sliding under the covers and allowing her to make herself comfortable against his chest.

“Everything’s fine, baby.” It wasn’t but it would be.

“Sure?” she asked in a scratchy, sleepy voice.

He kissed her forehead and nodded. “Yes. Just fine.”

***

Jezebel awoke screaming. She was having a nightmare, but she’d awoken, and the nightmare still continued. Bright lights were shining in her face. She could see nothing but bright lights, and hear the sounds of men and women screaming, telling her to keep her hands above her head.

“What’s going on?” she cried, doing as they said but turning to her side. Where was she?

Someone grabbed her hands and then she was being pushed down, face first onto the bed. Her wrists were yanked cruelly behind her back and through her terrified and painful cries, she heard Ramsey…yelling. Lifting her head, she saw through the bright lights that they had him against the far wall, and he was looking at her. His face was a cold mask of rage.

“Ramsey, what—?”

Something was suddenly around her wrists—cold steel, handcuffs. She’d been handcuffed!

“You don’t have to say or do anything, Jezebel,” he told her in a calm, but hard voice. “This is harassment and they’ll be paying for it.”

“What?” she cried out. Harassment? Money? Why the hell were there cops in her house?