Dinner passed happily along with several rounds of drinks. Once Contessa and the others arrived, the evening was full of old stories from days in Chicago. County’s own knack for storytelling had tears of laughter filling everyone’s eyes. Michaela laughed loudest of all, until she caught sight of her husband across the room.
Certain she had to be imagining things, or that it was the affect of too much wine, she squeezed her eyes shut tight. Then, she looked again. Nope, it was Quest Ramsey alright. As if she could ever truly mistake seeing him anywhere.
~~~
Johari was reaching for her ginger ale when she noticed Mick’s expression. She glanced across her shoulder. “Oh…yeah,” Jo’s verbal skills deserted her when Mick’s gaze snapped to her face.
“The guys got here last night,” Melina chimed in for her cousin.
“Last night?” Mick’s voice was a whisper.
“Calm down, girl,” County ordered, “you weren’t in any mood to hear about Quest last night.”
Mick flopped back in her chair. “Oh, you mean like I’m in a mood to suddenly see him sitting across from me in a Las Vegas dining room when he’s supposed to be in Seattle?”
County’s eyes glinted toward her best friend. “Don’t start, Mick.”
“We were surprised to see them too, Mick.” Ty intervened before Mick could speak. “They just took it upon themselves to show up.”
“Quest had nothing to do with it,” Johari finally found her tongue. “They made him come along. He’d been holed up in your house for two days tryin’ to drink himself to death.”
Mick swallowed her gasp, yet her expression was still lost and she tried to focus everywhere except the table where her husband sat. Unable to make it work, she pressed a hand to her mouth.
“’Scuse me,” she murmured, pushing back her chair.
Across the room, Quest watched her leave. He was pushing his own chair back from the table a split second later.
~~~
Mick left the piano bar through a rear exit and strolled around for a while. Her thoughts were deep and wholly centered on the man she loved. Part of her toyed with just saying ‘to hell with it’ and doing whatever she had to do; begging included, to get him to forgive her. Quest was all she wanted. She was almost weak with wanting him- wanting to feel him against her, inside her…
Eventually, her steps carried her back to her suite. She didn’t bother turning on lights preferring the dark with illumination only from the moon, stars and glitter that signified the elaborate nightlife of Las Vegas.
Stopping in the middle of the living room, she kicked off the chic peek a boo pumps that were beginning to ache her toes. Massaging her neck, she then applied the same pressure to her scalp while padding through the plush suite and into the bed room.
On the adjoining balcony, she chose a cushioned chair and leaned forward to brace her elbows to her knees while observing the busy view. The scene was surprisingly soothing and for a time, she felt at peace.
Mick turned away from the view, sensing his presence before she ever saw him. Quest stood there in the balcony entrance, a picture of humble uncertainty. If he’d had a hat it would have been in his hand.
She didn’t hesitate and neither did he.
“I’m sorry.”
They spoke in unison. Both blinked and cast their gazes elsewhere before looking back at one another.
Mick had but a moment to come to her feet before Quest had bounded over and dragged her against him. Their mouths met in a collision of want and regret. Smothered cries jumbled in Michaela’s throat as his kiss practically stifled her breathing. She welcomed the force of it all and thrust her tongue just as eagerly- just as powerfully.
Quest’s legs gave beneath him them and he took her down as he went to the floor of the balcony. Deftly, he removed everything she wore. He didn’t bother with the straps and clasps on the gold frock that accentuated her delicious curves. He simply tugged to bare more of her to his darkening stare.
Mick tried to help, but those chic dress straps proved to be effective restraints once Quest had tugged at them long enough. Her head arched back into the stone flooring and she almost cried amidst the exquisite and missed sensation of his mouth on her body.
He cupped both her breasts and alternated suckling the firming nipples. He soothed the taut flesh and with wet languid tongue strokes.
“Mmm…Quest…mmm…” she wanted so much to touch him. Sadly, her hands were not only trapped in the straps of her dress but they were too weakened from the pleasure he subjected her to.
His darkly beautiful face was a picture of intensity as his hungry mouth continued its descent. His lips grazed the satiny undersides of her breasts. His nose followed, outlining their shape, reacquainting itself with their scent. Then onward, he tickled her mercilessly when his tongue explored her navel.
At last, he discarded her dress and Mick felt the extent of the cool stone slabs against her heated flesh. Her only attire was the sheer stockings her husband hadn’t seen fit to remove.
Quest smiled when he lifted her from the floor and heard the moan of disappointment. “I’m not done,” he promised and cradled her against him silently giving thanks for the chance to hold her again.
Mick felt the soft decadence of the bed beneath her then. Instantly, her hands went to the dark jacket he wore over a black crew shirt. She was obsessed with having him out of his clothes and tugged the material from his shoulders-elated when the coat was a distant memory.
Quest helped her tug the shirt over his head. An instant later, Mick’s French tips were grazing the carved perfection of his torso. Needing to feel her next to him, Quest stripped away what remained of his clothing and covered her with the length of his body.
“Christ, Mick,” He shuddered when they touched flesh to flesh. For a time he rested his head against the crook of her neck and cherished the reality of having her in his arms.
“Don’t leave me again. Don’t ever leave me again,” he squeezed his eyes shut as if to compel her to obey.
She needed no urging. “Never. I’ll never go again Quest.”
He gathered her close as she wrapped her legs around his back and began to mimic tiny thrusting movements with her hips. Feverishly, she reached down and attempted to direct him inside her. She cursed her frustration when he brushed away her hands.
“Please Quest…”
“Count on it.” He dropped ragged open-mouthed kisses along her dark chocolate form.
“But I want you,” she insisted when he cupped her bottom in his hands and prepared to take her with his tongue. “I want you.” Her voice was a mixture of elation and torture when his nose grazed the silken petals of her sex.
“Count on that too,” he reiterated seconds before he began to make love to her with his mouth.
Michaela buried her fingers in her curls, arching and rotating on his wicked tongue until a potent orgasm hit her hard and fast.
He was inside her before she came down off the addictive high. “Wait…Quest, please wait.” The overload of sensation threatened to burst her heart.
“I thought you wanted this?” He teased while deepening the strokes inside her.
“Too much…” She was caught between a dizzying world somewhere between the last orgasm and the next one rapidly approaching. She curved into a perfect bow beneath him and cried out.
He chanted her name fierce and passion-filled when a warm stream of her need oozed and drenched his manhood. His need erupted then and; gripping each other desperately, they relished the desire and love that engulfed them.
~CHAPTER FIFTEEN~
“I thought you hated me.” Mick shared much later when they lay exhausted in the tangled bed.
Quest raised his head from her chest. “What?” His incredulous expression was visible only by the sparse lighting streaming in through the balcony. The disbelief however was vividly clear in his voice.
Mick smoothed the back of her hand against the sleek molasses dark of his
chest. “I came back after we…fought. I saw you tearing down your office, saying ‘damn her’, ‘damn her’…it wasn’t hard to figure who-”
“Yvonne,” Quest said, bowing his head as he recalled the scene. “I meant Yvonne Wilson and I do hate her, Michaela. I hate her for what she did to you. I hate myself because I let her…resurfacing in your life cause me to hurt you.”
“Shh…” Mick arched up to brush her mouth across his. “You were only looking out for me- protecting me…I can accept that now.”
He dipped his head again and a splice of light captured the harsh grimace he’d set in place. “I’ve spent my life protecting my family- working things out for them…and they never questioned how I did it.” Smiling then, he toyed with the curls framing her face. “I’m not used to having a partner bold enough to tell me that my protective nature is bordering on power-tripping obsession. I’ve got no idea when I’m doing it so I’ll need you to help- to show me.”
Mick smoothed the back of her hand across his face. “You know I’m always available to slap some sense into you.”
Quest caught the dig and laughed, sparking his left dimple. “Just please don’t hit me as hard as you did that day in my office.”
“I promise.” She kissed his cheek but the playfulness in her eyes dimmed with regret. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“I felt proud when I first saw the book. The fact that you defied me- didn’t let my passive bullying persuade you.” He kissed the mole above her heart shaped mouth. “This is why I love you.”
Mick laughed. “Because I can whip your ass.”
“Because you’ve got the nerve to try.”
“Ah…” her sigh merged into a giggle as another kiss ensued.
“I thought you hated me too.” He confessed once the kiss had ended. “For keeping what I knew about your- your mother.”
“How could I ever hate you?” She reached over to turn on the stout bedside lamp. “That could never happen.” Soft gold light illuminated her face and the love radiating there. Turning the tables, she pushed Quest to his back and draped herself across him.
“I could no more hate you than I could Driggers. Those boxes I had sent home from Chicago?” She prompted when he watched her in confusion. “I found a letter in one of them. It was from- from her to Driggers.” Mick sat up over Quest as she remembered. “She came to my place, met Drig, and wanted to see me. I must’ve been at a homecoming game- Wiley State.” She gave a perky toss of her curls. “I started going up there more frequently once I began choreographing the girls’ routines…” She rubbed her hands across her bare arms to ward off a sudden chill. “He never told me she’d come there. I never suspected a thing and I don’t know what would’ve happened to me had I known then.”
Absently, she raked her nails across the rigid array of muscle in Quest’s abdomen. “Guess I’d have gone off on some wild goose chase to hunt her down. Hmph, might’ve gotten myself killed in light of what she was involved in.”
“And I would’ve never met you.” Quest acknowledged and drew her down into a hug.
“He always protected me.” Mick snuggled deeper into her husband’s embrace. “He looked out for me even when I didn’t know it and I love him more now than I ever did.”
A muscle flexed in Quest’s jaw. “And Raegan Crawford?” His gray eyes shimmered with the hint of uncertainty. “He protected you too, right?”
Mick eased up, propping her fist to her cheek and nodded. “I used to play with Rae when we were kids.” Her expression was tender as she smiled on the memories. “His mom was a teacher- she was the teacher who found me. She’d come by that first day when I wasn’t in school but I hid in the closet- too scared to answer the door.”
A low sound grumbled deep in Quest’s throat. He gathered her close, holding her tight and thanking God for watching over her and bringing her to him.
“You know I saw her?” Mick shared after they’d embraced for a while.
Quest pulled her up to search her face.
“The day Houston and Daphne were killed. She was talking to Johnelle and Josephine. I thought maybe it could’ve been her. Anyway, next thing I knew, shots were ringing out and you were pushing me to the floor.”
“And what about now?” Quest made her sit up and straddle him again. “Do you want to see her?”
Mick pressed her lips together and considered the answer that came without hesitation. “If I said ‘no’ I’d be telling you the truth, I swear.” She added when his gaze narrowed. “But how could that be? How could I not want to see her? I’ve waited a lifetime, haven’t I?”
Quest tugged lightly on one of her curls and watched it spring back into a coil. “Maybe you realize there’s nothing for her to say that would hold value for you, for what you’ve become.”
Mick responded with a saucy wink. “Wife, mother, girlfriend, author…”
“And my very best friend.” Quest emphasized as much with his words as he did with the look in his eyes.
Mick cupped his face in her hands and drew him into the sweetest kiss.
***
Nights in Las Vegas had a tendency to be brisk, but the guests soon to arrive on the rooftop would be quite pleased. Sabra had arranged for her club there, aptly named Sabra’s Rooftop to be closed for a private party for her family.
The party was a celebration of all being right in the world again. As far as Quay, Tykira, Contessa, Fernando, Yohan, Melina, Johari and Moses were concerned Michaela and Quest’s return to stability set all their hearts and minds a little easier. While they were all happy and content in their respective relationships, seeing Quest and Mick back on track was further verification-no matter how corny- that love conquers all.
The group begged Sabra to join them for the evening. After all, having the couple holed up in the same area and being thrown together had proven to be the greatest weapon in forcing them to face each other.
Alas, Sabra had had enough of couples- happy or otherwise. She left instructions with her wait staff to inform the group of her absence and asked them to tell her cousins and the women they loved to enjoy themselves.
~~~
Enjoyment was certainly the order for the evening. As the arrival in Vegas was rather unorthodox, everyone was in separate rooms. Therefore, guests arrived at the party in a singular fashion. Ty was first on the rooftop and spent the first five or ten minutes swaying to the sounds of Kool and The Gang’s “Summer Madness” while she enjoyed the stunning view of Vegas at night. Her serene smile merged into one more sensual when the dress straps crossing her back were smoothed aside to make way for gliding lips.
“Mmm…” Ty leaned back into the caress. “My husband’s around and he’s got a pretty bad temper.”
“Screw him,” Quay growled into her neck.
Turning with a wicked glint in her mahogany brown gaze, Ty walked her fingers up his chest. “I’d love to,” she purred.
Quay chuckled but soon his expression grew solemn and he leaned in for a hug.
Through their embrace, Ty could sense what felt like the weight of a burden being lifted. He squeezed her tight and held on for a long moment.
“You were afraid for them?” She asked, already knowing while smoothing her hands across the fabric of the wine colored shirt which hung outside his navy trousers.
“Terrified,” Quay admitted in a voice muffled against his wife’s shoulder.
“Because they’re the stable ones of our group?” She felt him nod in response.
“Everything’s always been right with them…no ugly pasts…hurt feelings to move beyond…” He cleared his throat and pulled away. “Seeing something like that come out of nowhere and rock them like that was pretty scary.”
“But they survived it.” Ty’s gaze lowered. “Are you wondering if we could?”
The muscle along his jaw danced when he looked down at her hands clasped tight within his. “All I know is that I don’t want you to keep anything from me. No matter how much you think I ma
y not want to hear it. You tell me.” He gave her a little jerk. “You tell me, Tyke.”
She nodded immediately. “Does the same go for you?” Her voice sounded small, but she continued. “No more hiding things or doing outrageous acts in the name of protection.”
The heart-melting right dimpled grin appeared. “Right. Protection…the word we use to justify all our idiot moves.” He laughed softly. “No, no more of that. No more of that.” He shook his head and turned serious again. “I swear it, Tykira. I swear it.”
Quay drew Ty into a branding kiss that she returned with her own branding power.
~~~
Melina was busy checking her thick, bouncy hair in the elevator’s shimmering gold siding when the car stopped and her husband stepped in. She couldn’t get past how; in all the years she’d known him, he could still make her heart somersault clear to her throat.
Yohan didn’t bother with a greeting, but moved straight in for a kiss. Mel savored the feeling of being taken down by overwhelming arousal. She engaged his tongue eagerly with her own while raking her nails across the flawless pitch black of the taut skin stretched over the dark loveliness of his face.
A sound of guttural need rumbled someplace deep within the massive expanse of his chest. Mel knew instinctively that the wispy coffee toned wrap dress she wore was about to meet its demise.
“I’m not gonna be presentable for the party,” she moaned when he freed her mouth to drag his down her throat.
“You’re plenty presentable for what I’ve got in mind.” The words seemed to vibrate through him.
“Mr. Ramsey, the things you say to women you find in elevators.”
“You have no idea.”
Within seconds, the vampy act got the better of them and laughter filled the gleaming confines of the elevator. Tears filled their eyes and were soon streaming their cheeks. They each leaned on opposite sides of the car, clutching their stomachs and trying to catch their breaths.
“Whew,” Mel blinked away the tears still clinging to her lashes. “I pity the person who walks on this elevator now.”
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