The Masseuse (12 page)

When they were standing in a large room with maroon carpet, and a four-poster California King, he laid her down. As if knowing she would head for the door, he gently pushed her back onto the bed, and began undoing her strappy heels. Those had been for him too, she thought angrily.

“Ramsey! Stop that! I said I’m leaving. Ooh...” His hands massaged her sore feet. As he caressed and stroked them, she looked around.

Was this his room?

She looked for telltale signs, but there were no pictures of him on the wall. There were paintings of nature—of course—but nothing of people. Warmth on her knee made her look down. He’d pressed his lips there, and as she watched, he kissed the other knee, then he kissed her lower thighs...

“No!” She shook her head. Jezebel didn’t want him touching her, distracting her. She was angry, dammit, and for good reason. “I already told you, sex isn’t going to cure this.”

“Okay.” He stood and pulled her up. Before she could figure out what he was thinking, he began undoing the buttons of her coat, and slipped the material from her body. He headed to one of the doors in the room, and stepped into it. Curious, she followed, enjoying the plush carpet under her sensitive feet. She’d taken a few steps in when she saw him, standing feet away and hanging her coat in a walk-in-closet, a decent sized, masculine one.

“How many spas do you own?” Having one spa, no matter how popular, would not give him the money necessary to afford a penthouse apartment this big.

Ramsey looked over his shoulder at her curiously, and began to remove his jacket. “A few.” He hung his jacket next to hers and went to work on his shirt.

“What’s a few? Two? Fifty? A hundred?”

Dark eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?”

“Humor me.”

“There are fifteen spas in America.”

She nodded. “You’re international?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

He slipped his pants off, and along with his shirt, placed them in another section with crumpled clothing.

“You’re awfully curious about my businesses, Jezebel,” he murmured.

“I’m wondering how you afford this place,” she replied.

Ramsey approached her and smiled softly. “You didn’t tell me if you liked it.”

“It’s gorgeous. How many international spas?”

“Ten.”

She blinked up at him rapidly.

He grinned. “That’s how I afford this place.”

They stared at each other for long moments, before Jezebel’s eyes fell to his golden, muscled, chest and black boxers. Had he stripped down to distract her? She eyed him with suspicion. He only smiled.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

He had. From the moment he’d arrived to pick her up, he’d be all about her tight dress and high shoes. Ramsey had almost wanted to skip dinner entirely...

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

He chuckled.

“Ramsey...” she began in a low voice, staring up at him through lowered lids. “I need you to be honest with me...please. Did you keep me away from your apartment because of your family?”

He didn’t respond for long moments, before he said, “Yes, but not because I’m embarrassed of you, Jez. I just didn’t want you to have to deal with them so soon.”

She stared into his eyes and didn’t know whether she should believe him. He’d already lied to her…

His hand slid into her hair, and then his lips were on hers. The kiss was slow, sensual, and it left her breathless. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Jezebel. I don’t just like you, baby…I love you.” He caught her soft gasp in his mouth, and whispered against her lips, “I’m in love with you, Jez.”

“Don’t just say that because—”

He pulled away to glare down at her. “I wouldn’t say that just to get off your shit-list!” He kissed her again, quick and hard. “I love you. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone more than with you.” Shaking his head, he walked away, leaving her standing in the midst of his rows of clothes.

***

She ended up taking a warm shower, enjoying the six-head shower that massaged her in a way unparalleled...well, for showers. Ramsey had the top spot for giving her massages. She’d almost expected to have to wet her hair and ruin her do, but Ramsey had stuck his hand in and presented her with a shower cap. She found it strange that he had shower caps in his apartment, but dismissed it. Maybe his female relatives used them.

When she was thoroughly rinsed and relaxed, she toweled herself off and slid into the fluffy blue robe that was suddenly hanging there, waiting. She exited the bathroom to find Ramsey in a similar robe, his hair damp from the shower he’d obviously had. He was standing by the window, staring out.

Although she made enough noise to alert him of her presence, he kept his back to her, and didn’t move. Finally, angry that she was being ignored, Jezebel walked to him. Gripping the back of his robe, she tugged until he turned.

“You don’t get to be upset with me, okay!” She jabbed her finger into his chest for emphasis. “I’m the one who’s upset right now, so you don’t get to be angry about me not believing your confession of love!”

When he only nodded, and attempted to turn around again, she sidled her way between him and the glass. “Jezebel,” he began in a low, menacing tone.

She smirked. “What?” Glaring up at him, she demanded, “Am I obstructing your view of the city lights? Are they extra bright tonight, extra twinkly?”

He stepped away. “I’ll show you to the guestroom.”

Jezebel blinked up at him. Yes, she’d implied that they wouldn’t be having sex tonight, and if she was smart, she’d follow him to the guestroom thankful he’d listened, but something told her his coolness had more to do with his hurt feelings than hers, and she couldn’t tolerate that. She was the only one allowed to be angry tonight.

“No.” When he glared down at her, she shrugged and sat on his bed. “I like your bed. It’s...” She bounced slightly. “...nice and firm.”

“I’m not in the mood to play games with you.”

She was off the bed and in his face in seconds. “Oh, and I am? That’s exactly what I’ve been doing all night, huh? Playing games with you?”

“Yes!” He closed the inch-wide distance between them. “I said I was sorry for hurting your feelings. I didn’t do it on purpose. I apologized countless times! I told you I loved you, and you dismissed it. What more do you want from me?”

“Honesty?”

“I already told you—” He broke off and stepped away. “I don’t want to fight. I’ll sleep in one of the guestrooms.”

He walked from the room with her tailing him, upset that he was upset. She watched him move down the hallway, and stop in front of a door, before opening it and going in.

Jezebel shook her head and reentered his room, slamming the door. Whatever. If he was going to throw a fit, she wasn’t staying here. She headed for the walk-in closet and her clothes.

***

“You hurt me,” she murmured minutes later when she stepped into the guestroom and found him sitting on the bed with the television on. He was still in his robe, facing the TV.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t look in her direction.

“Are they racist?” she asked softly, keeping her back against the door in case she needed an out.

Ramsey turned to her, and she saw the hurt in his face briefly before he closed it off to her. “They’re not racist. They’re just...specific.”

“A little racist?”

He sighed. “Maybe a little, though it’s not specifically against one race. It’s against anyone who isn’t Korean.”

“But you’re mixed.”

He’d told her before that his mother was Korean, and his father Egyptian, hence his names. He smirked. “They seem to forget that.”

The silence stretched between them, and feeling a bit self-conscious, Jezebel stepped further into the room to see what he was watching. “What is that?”

He shrugged. “I turned on the TV and left it.”

Moving to him, she found the remote and switched it off. He looked up at her curiously. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“What you said about loving me?”

His eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

She sighed and shook her head. “You lied to me, Ramsey.”

“I didn’t.”

Jezebel pressed her finger against his lips. “Yes, you did. You told me your apartment was cold.”

He looked away.

“Don’t lie to me again.”

His eyes found hers, and he lifted a brow, before nodding once. She crawled onto the bed, both knees on either side of his hips, and settled down. Surprise etched its way into his features. Jezebel smiled slightly. “I was going to leave, but I thought about what you said...and I like what we have and think we deserve another chance.”

He seemed to be in a state of shock, so she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his. Shock disappeared as his mouth opened and his lips and tongue devoured hers.

As she’d stood in his closet, preparing to toss the robe aside and get dressed, Jezebel had remembered the things about Ramsey that made him different from other men, made her like—maybe even love—him. She remembered how he’d taken care of her on one of her lowest nights, how he always took care of her, whether it was cooking, or taking her somewhere and bringing her home, or giving her a massage because she was tense, or cleaning her up after they made love. She’d remembered his humor, his wit, how unchallenged he was when an event was about her, and no one knew him. Kirk had never been quite comfortable with just standing at her side; Ramsey was, even if he started getting naughtier as the night wore on. She’d remembered those things, the little things, and she’d decided she was being hasty. She had promised him a weekend...

Ramsey’s hands tugged frantically at her robe. As soon as he cupped her breast, she moaned into his mouth and ground on his rapidly-rising erection. When the feel of him through the robe was no longer enough, she untied the belt and parted the halves, allowing him to spring up directly between her thighs.

As she stared down at his plush tip, standing tall and proud against her mons and belly, she whimpered in anticipation.

Ramsey caught her lips again, and pushed the robe from her shoulders. When he pulled away, she moaned in protest, but his lips only moved to her breasts, swirling over her nipples before sucking them into mouth and nipping gently.

Sliding her fingers through his hair, she groaned and rubbed herself against his shaft. At this angle, his hard, thick length was poised directly between her lower lips, and he rubbed teasingly over her clit with each long stroke. When the teasing grew too much, she lifted onto her knees, held him steady and lowered herself. As he stretched her initially, she gasped in both pleasure and pain. Ramsey caught her ass and began to knead, urging her to keep going down.

She grew a bit too much eager, and dropped a few inches too fast. “Ah!”

Instantly, she was lifted and opened her eyes to find Ramsey staring at her worriedly. Locking her arms around nick, she pushed up and kissed him before lowering herself again. As she began a steady bounce, he murmured, “You feel so good, baby. You’re always so tight...and wet.”

“You’re always ready for me. Always ready to—” She broke off to moan when he slid a bit deeper than before.

“To what?” Ramsey growled, biting her neck, her breasts. “Tell me, baby. What am I always ready to do.”

She continued to bounce against him even as she groaned, “Always ready to fuck me...suck me...come inside me.”

His eyes grew darker, if that were even possible. Before she could fathom what was happening, he’d rolled her under him. Ramsey remained still, moving a few inches down to cup her breasts.

“I love these,” he murmured, sucking greedily at them. “They’re the perfect size...perfect for my hands...my mouth...just perfect, like you.” When his lips crashed down on hers again, Jezebel locked her legs around his waist and eagerly lifted his hips for his hard thrusts. He loved her long and hard, eventually sliding a hand under her thigh to pull it up. He went even deeper after that.

“Okay?” he asked hoarsely, after she winced at a particularly hard thrust.

She nodded, but placed her palm against his upper thigh, just in case she needed to stop him from going too deep.

“Sure?” He released her thigh, and pulled from her body. She cried out, but Ramsey only sat back on his heels and pulled her legs over his thighs. His fingers moved under her buttocks and then she was being lifted—well, her lower body was being lifted. His tongue swiped her, once, twice, before it settled against her clitoris. In this position, she was at a disadvantage—she couldn’t reach up to pull him against her, or push him away, so she did what she could, rolling her hips against his face and moaning his name.

When he lowered her and thrust back into her quivering sex, she sighed and cupped her breasts. He groaned and she looked up to find him staring at them. Using her fingers, she gently teased her nipples.

“You are so goddamn sexy,” he growled, gripping her hips tighter and increasing his hard thrusts. She rocked up eagerly, feeling her orgasm coming.

“You gonna come for me, Jez?” he demanded softly.

She nodded.

His thumb was on her clit, circling quickly as his thrusts increased in pace. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock.”

Her orgasm washed over her, sending her catapulting from her body and into another space. As she struggled to return, his heat splashed her insides. She must have passed out because she awoke to find herself perched on Ramsey’s lap, her legs spread as he used a soft cloth to wipe up the sticky evidence of their joining.

Jezebel kissed his chest, and looked around. They were in a bathroom—his bathroom. When his bare finger traced her slit, moving too close to her sensitive opening, she grabbed his hand. “Too soon.”

Ramsey kissed her neck and sounded very pleased. “I know, baby, I just wanted to make sure I’d gotten everything.”

He lifted her into his arms again and took her to bed. As she clung to him under the covers, feeling sleep’s arms pulling at her, she remembered something, and shook her head. “It’s my cock...”

“What?”

“You said ‘come all over my cock.’” She frowned. “It’s not yours.”