A Lover's Mask (10 page)

County let her lengthy lashes flutter close and enjoyed the light, yet satisfying caress until it stopped.

Fernando's expression had hardened and he muttered a wicked expletive. “Are you sure?” he demanded to know.

Terence Newsome, one of the club's managers sighed before repeating his news. “The girls who left are working as hostesses on a ship called
The Wind Rage
.”

“Doing what?”

“Well, Fern, it's a gentlemen-only ship, so…”

“Damn,” Fernando could only whisper, bowing his head to massage the bridge of his nose.
He was the proud owner of a sex ship. Yippee!

“What you want me to do, man?” Terence asked.

“Nothing right now T, I'll be in touch and we'll meet before I leave for Seattle.” Fernando decided. “Talk to you later.” He clicked off the phone.

County had already fixed her clothes and sat watching him. “Everything okay?” she asked, not caring for the set look to his profile or the way his hand smoothed across the front of the blue-and-gray paisley print shirt he sported.

“Business,” he explained after a silent minute.

“Wanna talk about it?” County asked, folding her legs beneath her.

“Not at all,” he said.

There was no coldness in his voice, but County could tell whatever the
business,
it had him in an awful mood. “Why don't we postpone tonight so you can go handle it?” she encouraged.

Fernando's grin appeared, sparking the adorable crinkle of his eyes. “No way are you getting rid of me tonight, Ms. Warren.”

“But you're obviously upset,” County argued, though she loved the sound of his words. “You may not be in the mood for—”

“Yes, I am upset and being with you is the one thing that has a chance in hell of relaxing me.”

County propped her elbow against the seat and rested her cheek next to her fist. “Why Mr. Ramsey, you say the sweetest things,” she said, pretending to gush.

Fernando was serious, however. “The words are easy to say when they're true,” he said and pulled her snug into his lap.

The cool teasing in Contessa's brown eyes grew warm with passion. “Oh” was all she cold muster before he captured her parted lips in another explosive kiss. Eagerly, she suckled his tongue when it thrust savagely past her teeth. Her body was weak with desire, but she couldn't resist grinding herself onto the arousal rising beneath his navy trousers. When he cupped her hips to situate her in a more accommodating manner upon the stiff ridge of his manhood, County ordered herself to slow things down.

“No,” he refused, when she tried to move.

“We should eat,” she suggested.

“Later.”

“Now,” she decided, cupping his face in her palms, “I don't want any interruptions when we get to my place,” she repeated his earlier words.

Fernando winked. “Good point,” he said and effortlessly placed her back to her side of the car seat. “Now let's see,” he said, returning his attention to the bag of food.

“Yes, I'll certainly miss this,” County lamented, resting her head back against the seat, “for the next two weeks, anyway.”

“Explain,” Fernando urged, passing County her toasted chicken salad sandwich.

“Mick's shower party?” she clarified, “I'll be going to Seattle next Friday.”

“Oh, yeah.” Fernando grinned, adding extra tomatoes to his monster turkey sub. “She called and demanded my presence too,” he remembered. “So why are you leaving so early? The party isn't until the end of the month.”

County cut her sandwich in half. “We've really been missing each other. We just want some time together beforehand.”

“So you can't make time for me during those two weeks?” he asked, biting down into the sandwich.

Contessa's brows rose, but she offered no response. Instead, she took a huge bite of the zesty sandwich. Munching filled the car for several moments. Fernando was halfway through his sub, when he noted that she had not uttered a reply.

Meanwhile, County went on eating and enjoying. It didn't take long however, to feel the beckoning translucent stare fixed her way. “What?” she questioned innocently.

“May I have an answer to my question?”

“Ramsey, I don't know how much time we'll have,” she replied flippantly. “I mean, it's been a while since Mick and I really got together.”

“That really it?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest and watching her try hard to swallow. “Spill it,” he said. “Contessa,” he called, when she stubbornly refused to talk.

“Dammit Ramsey, I don't want them to know about us, all right?!”

“Them? Who? Mick and Quest?”

“Your entire family.”

“Why?”

County fixed him with a look that practically radiated the phrase
you're an idiot.
“Are you joking?” she said instead.

“Do you see me smiling?” Fernando challenged the brows above his deep-set gaze drawn close.

“Why? you ask,” County repeated, bracing her elbows on her knees as she clasped her hands. “
Why,
because my House is working on a tell-all book about them.
Why,
because I don't want to have to deal with Mick and her questions.
Why
because your father is a jack—sorry. Let's just say he wouldn't take this well.”

Fernando's caramel brown face was a picture of confusion. “Do you care? Because I don't,” he confided, watching her hold her head in her hands. “Is this how you want us to be? Seeing each other in secret?”

“Listen, don't make me out to be the bad guy,” County snapped, her lovely features taut with anger. “I'm willing to bet my ass you haven't told a soul in your family.”

The confusion of Fernando's expression changed to wicked intensity. “Is that a bet you're prepared to cash in?” he almost whispered.

County blinked. “You told someone?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he confirmed with a simple nod, before reaching for the rest of his sub. Contentedly, he munched on the sandwich, knowing she was watching him in disbelief. “What?” he cried, when she slapped his shoulder.

“Who?”

“What?”

“
Who
did you tell?”

“Oh. My mother.”

Stunned, County flopped back against the seat. “You told your mother about me?” she asked, disbelief flooding her words.

Fernando continued to devour his sandwich. “Of course I did.”

“Do you tell her about all of your women?”

“Only in passing,” he shared, around a mouthful of food. “I doubt I've ever mentioned one of them by name.”

Quiet for a time, Contessa ate more of her sandwich and assessed what she'd learned. After polishing off chips and her sweet tea, she blurted, “What makes
me
so special, then?”

Fernando set aside his food, wiped his mouth and looked right into her eyes. “You're the
only
one I've ever fallen in love with.”

C
ontessa felt sick and it had nothing to do with the delicious deli meal she'd just enjoyed. Fernando was in love with her. He was in love with her and she was snooping around into his business. She was uncovering things that were potentially illegal and he was in love with her. She was in love with him. She was so very much in love with him too.

Fernando locked the front door to the condo and followed County inside. His expression was thoughtful as he removed his coat and gloves while watching her dazedly trying to do the same. When she fumbled over the top button of the trench, he went to assist.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, smothering her hands within his.

Contessa blinked. “Scare me? No—No Ramsey.”

Fernando shrugged and unfastened the button. “Women have said it to me before and it scared the living hell out of me,” he admitted.

“Did it scare you to say it?” County inquired softly, studying him through her thick lashes.

He curved a hand beneath her chin. “Not a bit,” he swore.

“Fernando I—”

“Shh,” he urged, giving her chin a squeeze. “I don't need you to reciprocate. I can wait.”

The confidence masking his baritone voice brought a smile to her face. “You're so sure I'll fall in love with you, Ramsey?”

“You already have,” he said, removing her leather trench and gloves. He grinned at the surprise on her lovely honey-toned face. Then, he nuzzled his nose against hers in an adoring gesture before he kissed her.

A helpless whimper escaped her mouth just as Fernando captured it fully with his own. She responded instantly and eagerly thrusting, caressing and stroking his tongue with the same leisurely desire he bestowed upon her. Contessa hardly noticed that in addition to helping her out of her coat, he'd quickly relieved her of the blouse and trousers she wore. He lifted her and she kicked off the stylishly bulky black heels. She relished the friction of her body clothed only in peach silk tap pants, hose and a lacy bra as it rubbed against the fine material of his shirt and pants.

Fernando's intention was to take her to the bedroom. He could make it no farther than the stairway, where his powerful legs seemed to give out beneath him. Seated along the carpeted stairs, he straddled her across his lap and began to feast on her breasts.

Contessa buried her fingers in the silky crop of his brown curls, pressing his gorgeous face deeper into her chest. Fernando groaned, filling his palms with the ample mounds of cleavage. His teeth raked her nipple—half in, half out of her bra and already rigid with need. He suckled only for a moment and then favored the other with the same erotic torture. County ground herself over the steel length of his arousal—silently pleading for him to stop teasing her. At last, he obliged, removing the bra even as he caressed a pouting nipple with a hungry tongue.

County's fingers shook with desire as she unbuttoned his shirt and splayed her hands across the chiseled massive wall that was his chest. Her arousal intensified when the impressive pecs flexed in response to her touch. Her thumbnails brushed his nipples and she moaned when he drew her closer.

Still feasting on her breasts and the delicate skin beneath, Fernando sought to free himself from the confines of his trousers. He muttered a soft curse of approval when County tugged the zipper down and massaged his stiffness.

Fearing he was only a second away from release, Fernando made her stand and remove what remained of her undergarments. County smiled when he produced a condom from the back pocket of his trousers.

“Always prepared?” she noted.

“With you, I have to be,” he said.

Again, his big hands cupped her hips to settle her across his huge frame. Contessa's breathless cry echoed in the silence of the space. Never, had she been so fulfilled by any man. Fernando's length was almost equally matched by his girth and he made expert use of both attributes. County's nails curved into the flawless caramel-toned skin of his shoulders, leaving half moon impressions. Fernando cupped the back of her head, massaging the silky hair where her cut tapered into a perfect V. His other hand squeezed her hips, urging her fully onto his iron power.

County tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as his invasion forced a wealth of moisture past the petals of her love. She smiled when Fernando uttered a surprised gasp in response to the subtle contractions she applied to his length.

“Stop,” he groaned, squeezing her bottom in an attempt to control her movements.

She was full of wicked temptation. “Why?”

Fernando only groaned again, his impossibly long lashes fluttering as sensation overwhelmed him. His arousal lengthened and swelled even more each time he felt her walls tense purposefully around his manhood.

Reveling in her control over the massive god with the gentle touch, County assumed the lead. Slowly, she rode him: grinding ever so often, then easing off before he reached satisfaction. His hands were filled with her derriere, but he had no strength and rested his forehead against her shoulder. The foyer came alive with an ocean of deep male cries of pleasure. Soon, Contessa felt as powerless as Fernando. Her hips rocked and rotated as she sought to take all he had to give. At last, his grip tightened and he was thrusting up into her with shocking lunges that sent more moisture tumbling forth and sheathing his granite desire with her creamy need. Thoroughly weakened then, Contessa was merely a trembling mass. She held on to Fernando and increased the intensity of her ride, wanting to bring him to where she was. Fernando tried to resist, wanting the moment to last an eternity. County's skill triumphed however, and soon he was moaning his approval into the hollow of her throat. Their physical needs were satiated for a time, yet the arousal continued to pulse like a living throbbing thing just below the surface. They remained on the stairs for quite some time, clutched in a heated embrace.

 

“What?” Fernando probed later, as he massaged her foot, ankle and calf while she lounged on the bed.

County's smile was a mixture of laziness and curiosity. “I'd love to know how you made the transition from such a bad boy to a gentle masseur.”

Fernando chuckled, instantly igniting the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “That's a long, ugly story,” he told her.

“With a happy ending,” she said and flexed her toes until he looked at her. “So that would definitely make it worth hearing,” she finished.

Fernando shook his head, his expression turning serious. “When I think about all the crap I used to pull…seems like it was a different guy.”

“What made you do it?”

Again, Fernando shook his head and concentrated on her other foot. “I believe for a while I thought I was just trying to get attention because my dad was so
disinterested.
That was a cop-out.”

A frown furrowed Contessa's soft brow. “Why would you think that? It's a perfectly understandable reason.”

“I'd have done it anyway,” he admitted, leaving her feet and coming to rest his head against her bare chest, “I had a lot of anger inside me, County. It needed a way out.”

“Anger at who? Your father?” she guessed, stroking his hair where it lay at his temple.

“Anger at the way things were,” he explained and clenched a fist near her hip. “Do you know lots of my best friends were guys who had no home, no food, barely had clothes on their backs? And there I was, bitchin' 'cause my dad worked too much?” he said, pounding his fist to the bed with light, repetitive motions. “Hell, it was
because
he worked so much that I had everything I wanted.”

County pressed a kiss to his head. “A parent's time is all a kid really needs.”

“A kid needs to eat, Contessa.”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Fernando grimaced. “It's hard to look at that when I saw my boys goin' to a shelter for dinner instead of their homes. Hmph, the ones who had homes were no better off,” he recalled, propping his fist against the side of his face while resting his weight on his elbow. “I met a guy who became one of my best friends while me and Pop were spending a father and son day together.” He grinned. “That was a laugh. My dad spent most of the day dragging me from one business meeting to another. We stopped by one of his apartment buildings. Another laugh,” he said, his brown eyes darkening as they traced the outline his fingers made across County's stomach. “That building was barely standing. Nobody should have to live the way that guy and his mom did.”

“Fernando,” County soothed, hearing the pain color his voice when he spoke of his friend. She feathered his cheek with tiny kisses.

“That's when I first started to lose respect for my father. To let a kid and his mother live that way—at least my friend was almost grown. I remember seeing real little kids runnin' around half dressed, crying 'cause they were cold or a rat had just taken a nip at their toe.” Fernando shook his head and relaxed on the bed again. “I grew real close to that guy,” he said, thinking about Stefan Lyons then, “I was closer to him than my own brothers, I think. Pop even put him through school.”

“Marcus?” County probed, surprised and impressed. “Very generous to help a wayward kid like that,” she noted.

“I believe it was a genuine gesture,” Fernando admitted with a chuckle. “I don't think my pop was always a conniving jackass. That time, I guess he just wanted to do a good thing,” he shrugged. “Maybe he's acted so foul all these years because he was so used to everyone thinkin' the worst of him and he just didn't give a damn.”

“Is that how
you
were?” County asked, resting on her elbow to look down at him.

“I guess,” he admitted with a roll of his eyes.

County pressed her lips together and studied the striking breadth of his chest. She decided it would be the perfect time to tell him what was going on. Fernando, however, had other ideas. Her breast nudged his fingers and soon they were fondling and squeezing the nipple until it had firmed.

“Wait,” she whispered, her lashes already fluttering in response. “Fernando I have something to say.”

“Later,” he urged, moving to capture one nipple between his perfect teeth. His fingers fondled the other.

“Fernando…”

He rose, forcing her to lie back as he half covered her with his broad form. “Baby, I'm all talked out. Later? Please?” he whispered, his words growing faint as he buried his face between her breasts.

Contessa heard a low grumbling growl sound from the depths of his muscular torso and succumbed. “Ramsey,” she tried again.

“Let it wait,” he soothed.

 

Quest and Quaysar stood in a long hug. Their silent bond said more than any words could have. Clearly, they'd missed one another but Quest knew his twin had his reasons for staying away.

“So what now?” he asked when they'd stepped back from one another.

“Guess I'll try dealin' with Marcus,” Quay sighed, massaging the tight muscles in his neck, “I know it'll be impossible to avoid it. Unless his ass is on the run too,” he added, with a grim smirk.

“And you know that won't happen,” Quest said, slapping his brother's shoulder as he stepped past.

“You're sure?”

Stopping midstride, Quest sent his brother a narrowed gray black look. “You're still on that?” he asked in disbelief.

Quay's expression was answer enough.

“You still think Marc's got somethin' to hide?” Quest persisted.

“Please don't tell me you think he's lily white?” Quay snapped.

“Hell no, but murder?”

“It was good enough for Houston.”

“And tryin' to frame us for it?” Quest challenged. “Remember, it was Houston who always had a beef with Pop.”

Quay rolled his eyes and headed toward the bar in his brother's den. “I don't know, Q. I guess I just want them fools out of this family so damn bad…before anymore crap turns up.”

“You say Wake told you he was a cleanup man for this guy?”

“Right.”

“And that the man he worked for hated dad with a passion?”

“Yeah and?”

“
And,
it just makes more sense for this to be about Houston than Marc,” Quest decided, taking a seat on the sofa. “After all, it was Pop who took Ma off Houston's arm.”

“Yeah,” Quay slowly agreed, using his index finger to stir the ice cubes in his glass of bourbon. “Something just doesn't fit, there's got to be more to it.”

“Quay—why're you so worried about this?”

“Been on my mind since I've been away,” Quay shared, turning to face his brother. “What if Houston isn't the only one with skeletons in his closet?”

“I think you're reaching,” Quest said, crossing his jean clad legs as he rested his bare feet on the coffee table.