The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  “Good afternoon Ms. Frazier,” James Grace greeted once the connection was made. “I took a chance on calling. I hope this is a good time to speak.”

  “Yes, yes thank you for calling,” Jo said, easing a tendril of hair behind her ear as she sat up in bed.

  “Have you made any decisions regarding our proposal?”

  “Forgive me Mr. Grace things have just been so hectic. My sister is hospitalized and it’s just been crazy around here.”

  “I’m so sorry, please forgive my call,” James Grace quickly and softly apologized.

  Jo pushed herself off the bed. “Oh no please, it’s fine. It’ll just take me a bit longer to get back to you on the offer.”

  “Perfectly understandable. We’ll wait for your call, but please focus on caring for your sister.”

  “I will and thank you Mr. Grace.”

  Jo sighed, staring at the phone once the connection ended. Her gaze drifted past the billowing peach drapes leading to her private terrace and she thought about indulging in her balcony past time. Moses had to be asleep by then and she decided it was the perfect opportunity.

  Quickly, she changed into a scant emerald green and gold bikini with adorably ruffled trim around the top that tied at her neck and back. She pulled on a black cover-up and peeked out of her room looking for any sign of Moses. Satisfied that he was still asleep, she headed for the balcony.

  San Francisco summers-its weather in general was often times unpredictable. A July afternoon could easily call for a heavy sweater if the breeze rolling in off the bay carried a chill. Johari celebrated the fact that the day was warm and sunny. Armed with a magazine and her favorite chilled berry tea, she selected her preferred lounge and settled in for relaxation.

  Casting one more look across her shoulder, Jo set the bottled tea and magazine to the short round table near the lounge. She reached for the sunscreen before untying the strings of the bikini top. Once a healthy coat of lotion was applied, he leaned back on the lounge, eyes closed and indulged in her favorite guilty pleasure.

  ~~~

  Moses woke about two hours after he’d drifted off to sleep. Clearly, all the excitement of the last several weeks had drained him as well since he rarely required more than four hours of sleep to get through the day. He noticed Johari’s bedroom door closed and smiled figuring she was still conked out as well. As that was the case, he didn’t bother to dress and strolled down the staircase in only the knee length black Nike shorts he’d worn to bed.

  He took time to survey the condo, loving the artsy décor, further enhanced by her photographic talents. Everything was fresh and spacious-lots of breathing room, lots of freedom. Moses couldn’t help but admire the way the place was the virtual image of its mistress.

  Sounds of Kem caught his ears then and a slight frown marred his features. Slowly, he veered in the direction of the music. He drew to a halt upon realizing Johari was outside. The frown cleared, a smile taking its place as he decided not to intrude. He couldn’t help but take a lengthier glance at the sight of her polished toes wiggling to the sound of the music. Her legs were bare. He assumed she was wearing a swimsuit and chose to treat himself to a simple glimpse. Then he’d leave her alone…he swore. But then he saw a bikini top draped across the table next to her lounge and his heart took a swan dive to his stomach.

  Johari’s eyes remained closed. She was absorbed in the warmth of the day, Kem’s soulful crooning and her favorite luxury. She’d yet to discover her darkly gorgeous houseguest helplessly observing just a few feet away.

  Moses’ mouth had been hanging open since he realized the woman was actually sunbathing. Of course, that wasn’t half as much of a surprise as the reality that she was doing it in the nude. For a split second, his long lashes closed over his eyes and he commanded his desire to quell.

  It’ll only do that if you walk away, brotha.

  Moses hissed a silent shut up to the advising voice and helped-correction: tortured himself with more sightseeing. She was trailing her hands across her bare skin, then through her hair. When she arched and stretched, he groaned. Yes, this was torture indeed and he shook his head to get his bearings. Deciding that Johari had enough ‘alone time’, Moses began to clear his throat in the noisiest manner he could muster.

  Johari gave a start, gasping when she saw him standing just outside the sliding doors. Her head whipped around while she searched for her bikini top only to discover that it was in his hand.

  “You keep this up, you’re gonna be as dark as me,” he teased, moving closer.

  Johari smiled, though her eyes were filled with longing as they raked his chiseled licorice torso.

  Moses’ gaze narrowed when he handed her the top. Watching as she put the skimpy material in place across her breasts, forced him to swallow past the heavy lump in his throat.

  Jo bit her lip when he settled behind her on the lounge. The scandalous tingling between her legs was almost too frenzied to bear. His hands folded over her upper arms to pull her close. He was only assisting in tying the straps at her neck and back, but that did nothing to relieve the erotic undertones it stirred.

  “You do this a lot?” he asked, taking more time than necessary in tying the straps.

  Jo focused on a barge crossing the water in the distance. “I’d always been curious…” she trailed away, looking down to watch his hand scoop inside the top to position her breasts against the material of the bikini. The action drew her next to his broad, hard chest and she knew the crotch of her bikini bottom was seconds away from becoming drenched.

  “You were curious?” Moses prompted, wanting her to finish. He took great care in situating her inside the top-weighing and squeezing her breasts, caressing her nipples. His dimples flashed when he felt her breathing turn into panting.

  “Yes um,” she winced, trying to recall what she’d been about to say. “Yes, I always-always wondered what it’d be like to be naked outside,” she said, pressing her lips together when he took his hand out of her top. “Please don’t tell anyone I do this. My parents would have a fit.”

  Moses chuckled and finally finished with the ties. “You secret’s safe,” he promised. It was then that he noticed the bottle on the table. “You got anything to drink besides coolers?” he asked.

  “Sorry,” Jo drawled with a smile. “And that is only tea.”

  Moses set his hands to her hips. “May I ask you something?” he said, giving her waist a slight squeeze. “Why don’t you drink?” he inquired when she nodded. He leaned back on the lounge when he felt her stiffen beneath his hands. “Sorry for being nosy,” he whispered.

  Finally, Jo shook her head. “I had a problem a long time ago,” she smoothed a loose tendril back into the high chignon she wore. “I don’t go near it now,” she added.

  Moses nodded. Every part of him was tense with the need to ask more for he was sure there was more he needed to know. Then, he forced himself to resist and became taken by the view. “This is incredible,” he breathed, pulling Johari back to lie against him.

  She didn’t resist and they relaxed, enjoying the view. She began to snuggle herself subtly against the broad expanse of his chest. The chiseled dark wall of muscle eventually had her skin screaming with a charge of sensual delight.

  Moses let one hand return to the bikini top he’d tied at her neck and back. This time his intentions weren’t nearly so gallant. Smoothly, his hand delved inside the material covering her breasts. Cupping one of the heaving mounds, his thumb raked the nipple while the rest of his fingers fondled the firm silkiness encompassing it.

  Johari arched against his palm eager to experience every nuance of his touch. When his other hand smoothed along her stomach and down to her thighs she bit her lip to stifle a moan.

  That moan released when his middle finger slipped inside the scant material posing as the crotch of her bikini bottom. Johari heard her moan mingle with his when he felt the creamy need moistening his fingertips. Jo let her head move across his shoulder and began
to massage his toned massive thighs as she circled herself on his thrusting finger. Hands braced on his thighs, she sat up and propped her butt on the crotch of his lounging shorts. Moses followed her up and muttered a curse when she ground against his erection.

  He bowed his head inhaling the fragrance of her hair, squeezing her breast more tightly as his fingers delved higher to produce more of her tell-tale moisture. “Twig,” he could barely say the word. Taking her with his fingers when he wanted to take her with something more satisfying had all but robbed his ability to speak.

  Johari took pity as much for Moses as for herself. She began to tug on the shorts he wore and smiled triumphantly when he assisted in the removal. Her bikini became a memory-discarded on the stone flooring of the balcony. She could’ve cried from the pleasure of his hands on her hips and settling her beautifully upon his arousal. His arms were crossed over her chest and he cupped a breast in each hand.

  Johari moved in a scandalously erotic manner above him. She was as aroused by the feel of his devastating stiffness buried deep inside her she was by the feel of his powerful lean frame behind her. Just the thought of it sent an increased rush of moisture to coat the length of his shaft.

  Moses grunted something incomprehensible, squeezing his eyes shut when he felt the response. Jo was lost in a sea of sensation and need. Moses lost the strength to hold her and fell back on the lounge. He allowed her to take the lead and only held her waist in a loose embrace. The sight and delight of her bouncing eagerly on his hungry arousal had him coming inside her and cursing his unexpected weakness.

  Johari lost what strength she had as well and fell back against him on the lounge. She had but a few moments to gain a modicum of energy. He was hungry for her again all too soon and another sexy interlude began.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tykira frowned a little as Quay approached her. When he took her hands, her frown deepened. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  “No,” Quay sighed, focusing on her wedding ring. “The nurse said we could go right in.”

  “So what’s bothering you?” Ty inquired with a slight tilt of her head.

  “Are you really sure about this Tyke? About visiting Zara?”

  Guessing that’s what he was about to ask, Ty rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what more I could say to convince you,” she groaned, pulling her hands from his and smoothing them across the front of his pine shirt.

  Quay’ dark eyes narrowed. “I just want to be sure.”

  “And clearly you’re not going to be, so let’s just stop talking to each other and go in there and talk to her,” she retorted.

  Nodding obediently, Quay planted a kiss to Ty’s cheek. Then, keeping his hand on her wrist, they headed for the hospital room. After a brief knock, Quay pushed open the door.

  Zara’s parents and Melina decided it’d be best if they weren’t present for the visit. In truth, no one wanted to witness the woman’s distress. When she realized whatever thoughts she’d entertained about a reunion with Quay would not be materializing, it was sure to be an ugly scene.

  ~~~

  Garbed in a lovely satin and lace cream negligee, Zara stood before the windows. Her profile held a calm as she gazed down at the harried scene of ambulances and EMS workers tending business below. When the lever clicked on the door, she turned with an inviting smile on her face. She blinked, her lips parting at the sight of Quaysar Ramsey standing only a few feet away after so many years. Greedily, her eyes surveyed; reacquainting themselves within his beautiful dark features. Shortly however, the stare lost a bit of its warmth when she spied the tall, stunning woman at his side.

  “Hey Zara,” Quay greeted softly, his smile so small the right dimple was effectively masked. “I don’t know if you remember Ty?” he asked, tugging his wife a bit closer.

  Zara smirked, making no effort to put on a friendly front. “Of course I remember. You dumped me for her.”

  Ty pressed her lips together and quickly decided her stay in the room would be briefer than her husband would like. She raised her hand to squeeze his arm and heard a gasp echo in the room.

  Zara had noticed the diamond sparkling on Tykira’s ring fingers. “What is this? Why is she here?”

  “She’s my wife, Z,” Quay announced his voice calm yet firm.

  “Son of a bitch,” Zara hissed, her eyes pooling with tears. “How could you do this?” she breathed, dropping to the edge of the bed.

  “You knew how I felt Zara-how I’d always felt about Ty,” he reminded her.

  Zara shook her head, wanting no memories of that time. “Does this make you feel good Quay? Does it make you feel good to do this to me twice in a lifetime? Does it?! Does it make you feel good Quay?!”

  Ty touched Quay’s arm again when Zara began to cry. When he turned to her, she shook her head telling him silently that she couldn’t stay.

  Quay nodded without hesitation and started to leave with her. Ty pressed her hand to his chest.

  “No. You need to finish this,” she urged, casting one more glance toward Zara before she left the room.

  ***

  Johari couldn’t help but laugh when she stepped off the elevator. Moses had ordered her to meet him in the lobby and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Jo wasn’t about to argue especially when he left fifteen minutes ahead and took her motorcycle down with him.

  “What this all about?” she asked, barely able to conceal her giggles when she found him leaning against the wall opposite the elevators.

  Moses pulled his hands from the pockets of his denim carpenter shorts and straightened. “Follow me,” he requested.

  Outside, Johari saw her Suzuki GSXR 1000 waiting alongside a sleek Hayabusa 1300R. “Yours?” she inquired of Moses, raising a questioning brow towards him.

  He simply shrugged and fixed her with a challenging smirk.

  Jo folded her arms across the front of the gray-blue fleece zip hoody. “Riding skills, Ram?” she teased, glancing back at the impressive machine. “Gotta be rollin’ with the big dogs to handle a Hayabusa. Or maybe…you just don’t want to feel like a punk since I’m right at home on a bike.”

  Moses tugged on the cuff of his moss colored Champion sweatshirt. “I’ve been riding since I was a kid,” he shared, winking when she showed surprise. “Now what do you say we stop all this talk?” he paused to toss over her helmet. “Time to show and prove.”

  Johari tucked the helmet between her thighs and whipped her hair into a high ball. “Try to keep up,” she advised, before jumping on the bike and igniting the powerful engine.

  ***

  Eerie silence filled the room once Ty left and Zara’s sobbing had lulled. Quay couldn’t remember having ever feeling so uncertain. All he wanted was to go, but knew there were things she needed to say and things she needed to hear him say to her. Thankfully, the question of who’d go first was soon taken out of his hands.

  “First you dump me,” Zara began, her voice holding a trace of humorless laughter, “then on the first day we see each other in almost twenty years, you bring your wife-the woman you dumped me for.”

  Quay’s temper heated, but he forced himself to respect what Zara had been through. “I’m sorry,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “I apologize for hurting you then and now. Then, I was a stupid kid who only cared about getting what I wanted and using whoever could help me get it. The only thing I knew was that I loved Tykira,” he said, watching her bristle. “Now, I’m a married man and I do love her Z. More than my own life. I’m sorry for what happened to you, but I won’t apologize for us.”

  Zara’s smile was cold. “I don’t expect you to apologize Quaysar. After all, you’d never apologized for treating me like a slut.”

  Quay silenced the quick response that settled to his tongue. Unfortunately, it was too late to mask the response in his eyes.

  Zara nodded. “Of course, why should you apologize when ‘a slut’ is just what I acted like?”

  “Z, don’t-“

&
nbsp; “The only thing I didn’t do was put out a sign sayin’ come and get it,” she shook her head, clasping her hands beneath her chin. “No wonder Marc snatched me. He already knew I’d fit in so well.”

  “Zara don’t do this,” Quay urged, moving closer.

  “Stop! You just stay away from me!” she hissed, extending a hand in warning. “Did you ever care about how I felt when you dumped me for a girl you never had any intention of becoming involved with?” She asked her brown eyes filled with dismay. “For you, it was just the thought of her and I sure as hell couldn’t compete with that.”

  “I would’ve wanted to know,” he said, grimacing when she flashed him a scathing look. “After we talked, I came looking for you. I wanted to be sure you were okay. I looked everywhere, then when all those days passed…I knew something was wrong,” he said, his dark gaze pensive as he remembered. “That’s when I talked to my dad and we got the cops involved.”

  “Well, on behalf of the sex slaves of the world-I thank you!”

  “Zara-“

  “Dammit Quay, I loved you!” she cried, her dark face shining with tears. “I tried to tell you that so many times, but you never wanted to hear it-you had to know,” she accused.

  “Damn Z, you knew what we were about,” he snapped, loosening a few of the tethers reigning his temper. “It was sex pure and simple. I was up front about that from the jump.”

  “Did you know I was pregnant?” She quietly questioned. “Course you didn’t. I was gonna use it to keep you,” she said when Quay stood rooted to his spot and watching her in surprise. “That was before I…took care of it.”

  The loaded admission drained the strength from Quay’s legs. Cradling his head in his hands, he took the chair next to the bed.

  Zara smiled from her position near the window. “Don’t be too upset. It wasn’t yours. It belonged to another Ramsey and he wanted it about as much as you would have.” At last, her stony gaze wavered with sadness, but she shook her head to prevent more tears from emerging. “I was so scared when they took me…and when I found out what they expected me to do…” she trailed away, conjuring the images of her abduction. “Contrary to the opinion of certain Ramsey gods, I wasn’t in the process of prostituting myself,” she whispered, using the sleeve of her gown to dab a tear from the corner of her eye. “All I wanted was someone to be all about me-the way Mo is about my sister and Yohan about Mel…” her dreamy expression hardened when she looked at Quay. “I knew I’d never have that with you. Then, once I was put into the life, I knew I’d never have that with anyone. But…as time went on, I realized that while I may not have a man who loved me beyond reason, I had a crap load who desired me-desired me. Above their wives, the girlfriends and sometimes boyfriends they were cheating on. It made the life acceptable-almost enjoyable,” she caught Quay’s disbelieving dark stare. “I know you can’t understand what I mean, but I know a shocking amount of woman who’d fully agree with me.”