The Masseuse

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The Masseuse Page 14

by Dubrinsky, Violette


  Ramsey lifted his head and stared at her. His lips glistened and she knew that was all her. It had been a month after all. “So why was she talking about cocks and dildos...and why did she start ignoring me?”

  She groaned. “She was frustrated. Ramsey, please—please put it inside me.”

  “It?”

  “My cock—my phal, please just fuck me.”

  “I like when you beg.” He slid a hand over her mons. She hadn’t expected him today, or she would have shaved. She briefly wondered if he minded the hair, before that thought vanished. She’d caught sight of his erection already—he minded nothing. “Tell me what you want, Jez.”

  She shook her head. How many times had she already told him what she wanted? “I want you to fuck me, Ramsey. Please. Just fuck me.”

  He cocked his head to the side as if contemplating it, before he smiled. “Maybe later.”

  With that, he went back to lapping at her sex like he was a cat and she was his cream. As her body somehow managed another orgasm, Jezebel closed her eyes and felt drained. He was either going to fuck her into oblivion as she asked or she was going to pass out. Either way, she was going to be knocked out for a while.

  ***

  “I hate you!”

  “You love me,” Ramsey replied with a smirk. She’d never said it, but Ramsey saw it in her actions, in the way she looked at him as if one word from him could erase the stress of a bad day, the way she let herself need him.

  “Let go of my hands!”

  “No.” He tightened his grip on them, stretched over her head as he lay above her soft body, his hips resting easily in the V of her thighs.

  “Move faster!”

  He withdrew slowly, marveling at the tight, wet heat that greeted him after so long a reprieve. If he wasn’t so selfish, he would have purchased her a toy that would have allowed him to come into her much easier, but he—Ramsey Stone—was a very selfish man. He didn’t mind vibrators, but he only wanted his cock in her body.

  “Ramsey!” she whined, looking so frustrated he almost took pity and fucked her like they both wanted.

  “Yes, baby?”

  “I said I was sorry.”

  He lifted a brow. “No you didn’t.”

  She growled, then moaned. “Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to be sorry for.”

  “Ah.” He released her hands and pulled from her body, biting his lip to keep from plunging right back into her heat.

  “No!” she cried out. “What are you doing?”

  Moving onto his side, he rolled her onto him and kissed her lips. “Ramsey, stop teasing me. I need you. I’m sorry...please.”

  He slid a hand between their bodies and gently strummed her clit.

  “Oooh,” she moaned. He eased his hand further back and plunged two fingers into her wet sex. His fingers glided easily, and he removed them, pulled one leg over his waist, and lined himself up with her heat.

  “Yes, yes...oh Ramsey...” He slid into her slowly, careful not to move too hastily lest he hurt her. Most of the strenuous part had been done once her body had taken him again, but he still had to be careful.

  “Like that?”

  Jezebel kissed him, rubbing her breasts against him as he thrust faster into her tight channel.

  “Yes...just like that...oooh, yes!”

  Deciding he’d teased her—and himself—long enough, he gripped her buttocks, and rode her hard.

  She kissed his lips, his cheek, his neck, holding on tightly. When he rolled onto her body, she was eager, spreading her legs wide and gripping his ass to urge him forward.

  “Did you miss me?” He pounded her like he’d dreamed of doing on those lonely nights in Seoul. He’d almost brought her there, would have brought her, if it wasn’t dangerous.

  “So much, baby!” He watched her breasts bounce in time to his thrusts and contemplated stopping to suckle them. Her nipples were large and dark, and each time he saw them, he wanted them in his mouth. “I missed you...so much!”

  He grinned. At least she was being honest now. “Do you want me?”

  She nodded, tightening her grip on his buttocks as he wildly drove into her. “Yes, yes!”

  “Do you love me?” He halted his movement. She cried out softly, but cast her eyes up at his and licked her lips as she answered, “You know I do.”

  He did. “Say it.” Ramsey moved again, slowly, one long stroke in, one long stroke out...

  “I love you,” Jezebel murmured softly.

  He increased his pace. “Louder.”

  “I love you,” she groaned, running her hands up to his back.

  “Louder, baby!” He kissed her harshly, stabbing his tongue into her mouth as his thrusts grew frantic. “I want everyone to know.”

  She mewled. “I love you! I love you!”

  “Who?”

  “I love you, Ramsey!” Her hands were suddenly in his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp. He halted at the shine of tears in her eyes. Was he hurting her? Shit. Was it too much too soon? She was so tight and he was...a savage.

  “Baby?”

  “I love you,” she whispered softly. “I love how you touch me, love me, appreciate me...I love everything about you.” His pussy sucked at him deliciously and it took everything in him to remain still. “Don’t hurt me, Ramsey.”

  It took seconds to realize she meant more than physically.

  “Never,” he replied, finding his pace and continuing on. No one was going to hurt her now, not if he had anything to say about it. “I love you too much to hurt you, baby.”

  She nodded, and kissed him, lifting her hips for a particularly deep thrust. She groaned, and he did too. His pelvis caressed hers as he stared down at her in awe. She’d just taken his entire length. A little smile curved her lips. “Now make me come.”

  Withdrawing slightly, he thrust back into her, loving the feel of her taking him completely. She gasped. He kissed her. “With pleasure.”

  Chapter 12

  “Well, this is certainly the best block party we’ve ever thrown.”

  Before she could control her reaction, Jezebel glared at Maggie, who was chugging a glass of cold water as she stared at the makeshift basketball court in front of Jezebel’s house where Ramsey, Eric, and a few of the younger, more athletic, husbands played. If peach-blond, Stepford wife Maggie hadn’t already made two comments about Ramsey’s attractiveness, one in a half-whisper about his perfect face after Jezebel introduced Ramsey to the neighbors, and the other about his shirtless state as he opted for the “skins” team in the game, Jezebel wouldn’t currently want to rip her perfectly coiffed hair out, but she had…

  An amused chuckle made her whip her head in the direction. Watching her with knowing eyes, was Delilah, who sipped on a glass of lemonade and chewed happily on barbeque chicken as she lounged on one of the deck chairs Ramsey had lifted onto her front lawn. For good measure, Jezebel glared at her too, before shaking her head and returning her attention to the game. She didn’t follow sports so she’d lost count on the score, but she followed Ramsey…and his sweaty, ripped body as he ran around, dribbling the ball, checking people, blocking shots, dunking the ball…and looking so amazingly good it was a wonder she wasn’t stopping the game and telling him to meet her inside. In a way, she could understand Maggie’s fascination. In a limited way. Jezebel smirked.

  It was a hot summer day at the end of July, and the block was having their annual party. Although Jezebel usually donated money for the festivities, in her years of living here, she’d attended two of the events, and never for more than hour. Her car was usually parked on another street so that she could leave whenever she wanted without having to obstruct the barricades. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them—the wives and stay-at-home Moms were very nice—but they’d had so little in common, and Jezebel had been all about work. However, this year, when she’d received the letter announcing the date of the block party, she decided…why not?

  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 n
ormal, 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.

 

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