~LOVER’S MUSE: AN INTERLUDE~

 

 

***

 

Quest Ramsey wasn’t about to give his wife any chance to scold him for the dramatic departure from their wedding reception. To be on the safe side, he just kept her mouth occupied with his while taking the back stairway to the wing that housed the guest bedroom suites at his parents’ home.

“Are we there yet?” Michaela murmured, her words smothered yet discernable given that she was being kissed senseless.

Nevertheless, they captured Quest’s attention. “Is it too big for you?” he asked, referring to the house.

“It’s fine.”

“Just fine? ‘Cause mine is about as big,” he said, still referring to the house.

“Big is fine as long as it’s satisfying.” Mick returned, her thoughts having journeyed away from the house and on to someplace naughty.

Quest caught on to the vibe. “It gets better,” he grinned.

They were sealed away in one of the spacious guest rooms shortly after. Quest’s teasing mood had apparently waned, for his expression held no trace of amusement when he settled her back against the locked door.

“I need you to understand something. I’m never letting you go Michaela. Do you get that?”

She nodded as if dazed. “I never want you to,” she sighed.

“You might, once you understand how protective I can be. It borders on possessive but gets masked by the protective part- that can border on obsession.”

“I get it Quest. I love you for it,” she swore.

“I hope so,” his hazy stare had almost darkened to pitch. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. I keep what’s mine, Michaela. I keep it very well.”

She swallowed. “So show me, then.”

Michaela Ramsey found her exquisite gown on the floor three minutes after her taunt. The snowy white bustier and garter beneath contrasted beautifully against her milk chocolate skin. Faint lighting spilled from the partially opened door leading to a private washroom. Just enough illumination was provided to reveal the set look to Quest’s profile as his gaze trailed the length of her curvy frame encased in the devilish piece of lingerie.

“Quest…” Mick bit on her lip when he brought his eyes to her face. She could just glimpse the darkening of his stare as if fixed on her mouth. She moaned, her lashes fluttering madly when he outlined her lips with his thumb and then gave her his middle finger to suck.

She did so with relish. A low, satisfied rumble stirred from Quest’s chest as he watched her pleasure the digit. Eventually, he was resuming his appraisal of her encased in the bustier and garter. She looked like a treat he was hungry to unwrap.

Mick was enraptured by the taste of him and so focused on her task of suckling his finger that a gasp of surprise and rapture erupted when his mouth latched onto her nipple still covered by the satin and lace garment. She lifted a hand, wanting to draw his head closer, but Quest prevented the move, keeping her arm secured against the door. Heat rushed her and she squirmed wanting more of his touch even as she expected anything additional would send her over the edge.

Desperately, she arched more of her breast into his mouth, moaning without shame as she sucked his finger with increased fervor. “Quest please,” she urged amidst the act.

Without a care for the custom stitching of the bustier, Quest reached up to jerk it down over one full, heaving breast, bringing it into full view. Michaela sobbed when his perfect mouth smothered the bud that yearned for his attention. She rolled her head against the door practically out of her mind as sensation riddled her quivering body.

Quest emitted the most adorably tortured sounds as he took more of her into his mouth. Lazily, he rotated the tip of his tongue around the diamond-hard nipple, then repeated the move with the tip of his nose before drawing the bud in for another round of merciless tugs. He didn’t return to secure her arm against the door once he bared her breast. Instead, he stoked the garter fastening and the satin panties she wore. Finding the entrance he sought, he claimed her with his middle finger and launched an assault to her moisture rich core.

Suddenly, he withdrew his finger. “Kiss me,” he ordered in a gruff tone that brooked no disagreement.

Michaela complied eagerly, locking her arms about his neck and heightening the volume of her moans as she kissed him with a devastating intensity. When his handling of her sex weakened her tongue, Quest gave her a jerk.

“I said, ‘kiss me’.”

“Quest I-”

“Tsk, tsk, there’s that sass again.”

She gave a low, aroused laugh. “So punish me, then,” her next gasp mingled with a sharp cry at the sound of the garter being ripped. She felt the air brushing her exposed flesh then. “Quest,” his name was a faint breath when the slow ooze of her need trailed her inner thigh.

The line of pearly white moisture wasn’t given much leave to travel far. Exhibiting, fluid and effortless strength, Quest lifted her high against the door. He cradled her bottom securely, positioning the part of her that he’d claimed ownership of directly before his mouth.

Mick would’ve slid down the door were it not for the powerful grip in which he kept her. His tongue swept her inner thigh clean of the traces of her juices lingering there. Steadily, it moved higher until claiming her center. Instantly, Mick felt climactic tremors flood her lower half then expand its effect branching out to stab and sooth her with unequaled pleasure.

Desire maddened, she greedily clenched his tongue wanting to keep it trapped until release had its way with her. The relentless rotating and thrusting of his tongue forced her to unclenched in a desperate drive to take whatever he would give her. Her hands splayed above her head along the door and she chanted his name while rocking her hips in sultry clockwise and counter swirls that stimulated as they satisfied.

“No,” she rasped, when he suddenly denied her his tongue. Her arguments died as quickly as they roused when she felt his throbbing length- thick and hard taking the place of his tongue. His mouth reclaimed her breasts, his sleek brows drew close and he growled out a curse when the nipple seemed to harden to a firm bud on his tongue. The ravenous suckling mingled between pleasure and pain, assaulting her senses while his shaft plundered and stretched her relentlessly. She wanted to fold her legs around his back, but Quest kept her thighs spread, shelved on powerful forearms still hidden beneath the crisp sleeves of his tux.

He smiled, revealing the gorgeous left dimple when he felt her intimate muscles contract fiercely then. She’d be coming all over him in another minute, he deduced. The thought of that threw his raging hormones into frenzy.

Michaela smiled as hot jets of semen doused her walls when he came. Frantically, she took him, elated over the anticipation of impending orgasm.

Quest rested his dark beautiful face against the base of her throat while shuddering out the last of his satisfaction. She was so tight, the way she fisted his shaft was so exquisitely erotic it was almost painful. It wasn’t a complaint and he felt himself refueling for another claiming before he was completely spent inside the curvy chocolate nymph that possessed every bit of his heart.

Michaela was barely coming down from her orgasmic high when her eyes widened and fixed on her husband’s stirring gray stare. “Quest…” she felt him transition from semi-hard back to rigid in a span of a few seconds.

“It’s going to be a long night Mrs. Ramsey,” he promised, grinning at the sound of his wife’s laughter.

***

 

Chicago, Illinois~

 

Contessa Warren strode with purpose to the half opened door and peeked just inside. She didn’t take insult to the unkempt appearance of the room nestled in the enviable corner spot along the top floor of her publishing firm Contessa House. She didn’t take insult, knowing the room’s occupant had a method to the madness she considered her own ‘special’ brand of organization.

What had County striding with purpose into the cozy cluttered office was the fact that it was occupied at all- solely occupied.

“I’d suggest you get back out there to that sexy piece of chocolate you call a husband,” County cast an astute look toward Michaela currently seated on her knees while rifling through a box of file folders. “That is, unless you’ve got no qualms about putting an APB out for him later.”

A smile curved Mick’s mouth but she continued her investigation of the folders.

“Your soon-to-be-ex co-workers out there, are looking at the poor guy like they’ve got serious kidnapping and sexual assault plans on their minds,” County moved into the room where she undertook her own investigation of the boxes set out across the office.

Mick laughed then, I promise I’m about to head out. Just wanted to…” she trailed off to take a closer look at a page from one of the files. With a quick shake of her head, she reconsidered the document’s importance and set it off to a pile next to a half filled crate.

“Just what?” County inquired somewhat absently as she was then interested in a page she’d come across.

Mick stood, hefted a box. “Just pulling a few note files. Everything I leave behind will be for the garbage or the Contessa House vaults.”

“Well hold on, hold on,” Slowly County dragged her eyes away from the sheet that had captured her interest, to wave a hand across the sea of packed boxes. “Let’s not be so hasty. Is there any book worthy info waiting in all this mess?”

Mick blew at the wayward curl, set down the box and considered. She was opening her mouth to answer when County raised a hand.

“Let me qualify that question by saying that it should be book worthy info that doesn’t involve a family of to-die-for men who will have my next author all ga-ga while she comes out of her panties.”

“I resent that,” Mick crossed her arms over her chest in a pretend huff.

County shrugged. “You were that.”

It was Mick’s turn to shrug. “I didn’t deny- I only resented.”

The friends shared a laugh. Michaela retrieved the newly packed box and set it to the right of her uncommonly clean desk.

“This is all pretty much just notes from books already done,” she looked longingly at a box near the front of the desk. “Like this stuff,” she tapped a foot to the box marked ‘Shelanon’.

County’s smile held a reminiscent flavor. “A lot of notes went into that book,” she mused.

“Tell me about it,” Mick hooked her index finger inside the invisible pocket along her black Yoga pants and offered her publisher a wry smile. “Got any authors who might be able to get Jacob Shelanon to make a sequel a reality?”

Contessa’s full-bodied laughter sent her thick ponytail swinging. “Hell girl, if you couldn’t get that nutcase to come out of his mountain, no one can.”

“Aww…is that a compliment?”

“Hmph,” County rolled her eyes, faking a nonchalant air before she grinned. “You bet it is,” she opened her arms toward her best friend and laughed when they shared a hug. “Congratulations, Hon,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to Michaela’s cheek.

***

Michaela waltzed into her house with a playful flourish that was fueled by happiness and excitement for all that lay ahead of her. Following the wedding, she and Quest had decided to make a pit-stop in Chicago before heading off to the sun and fun of their honeymoon. Regardless of Michaela’s anticipation of the future however, her steps slowed the further inside she ventured.

Quest moved at a slower pace as well. His entrancing stare was observant yet approvingly so. He loved the way the place practically embodied his wife’s persona. The three-story abode shrieked comfort, warmth and was as lovely as it had been when he’d previously visited.

Quest’s appraisal of the house was sidelined as he fixed on Michaela strolling on through. His sleek brows drew closer the longer he scrutinized her, taking note of the scant change in her demeanor. He gave her space, watching her move-stopping infrequently to smooth her hand across a piece of furniture or some other object perched on a shelf or table. He waited until she’d journeyed clear out to the gazebo before he inquired.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said after they’d both strode the rather plush construction.

Mick fingered one of the velvety soft artificial vines that snaked round the gazebo’s white, wooden planks. It was approaching dusk and time-sensitive lights were just beginning to sparkle sparsely amidst the vines.

“I don’t want to be whinny,” she said.

Quest leaned close to her against the railing. “From what I understand, it’s something wives tend to be,” he feigned discomfort when she punched his solid abs.

Her smile held sway, but briefly. “I miss him…Driggers…he was my family-like my father,” she sniffled, “it’s what I considered him. Except for County, he was my only family.’

“But that’s not true anymore, babe,” he pushed off the rail, came over to enfold her in his embrace. “I won’t pretend to have any insight into Drigger’s magic touch when it came to you,” he kissed the top of her head, “but I’ll spend the rest of my life perfecting my own.”

“That sounds very good,” she snuggled back into him, sensation jolting through her when he eased his hand down to cup her mound still hidden inside her pants.

“It’ll feel even better than it sounds,” he touted, his kisses drifting from her head to pamper the shell of her ear and her nape. He was content working her through her pants, but not for long.

Mick cried out into the early evening air when she felt his fingers against her bare flesh. His touch held the sweet deliberation of warm syrup. Eagerly, she allowed it to take her over a sensual incline.

With dusk fully in session there was little need to worry over an onlooker noticing what the newlyweds were up to. While Quest fully intended to have his wife nude and soon, he was then too maddened by desire to have her slake the intense craving she so easily ignited within him.

He pleasured her consistently until Mick felt passion-drugged. When he had what she considered being, an insane idea to relieve her of his touch, Mick gripped his wrist to keep his hand where she wanted it. Lazily, she rolled her head back across his chest and shamelessly freed her gasps and sensation-tortured cries into the wind.

Quest kept her happy with the two finger massage that sent orgasmic pressure steadily building inside her. His thumb launched a wicked play upon her clit, encircling the sensitive nub. He accommodated her by pressing down on it when her hands flexed over his wrist and she awkwardly rode the digits to find her release.

“Please,” she urged, hoping to encourage his cooperation when she angled her head back and up to kiss him.

Quest delighted in the gesture, kissing her with mind-melting intensity. Michaela moaned, a wavering moan that gave credence to how thoroughly aroused she was. She was so absorbed by the relentless drives from his tongue plundering her mouth, that she paid no mind to his free hand slowly working the Yoga pants from her hips and over the lush curve of her bottom.

Her next moan held more of a smothering undertone to the previous gurgling intensity. She felt the night air kissing newly bared flesh, below her waist and shivered in response to it and the distinctive sound of his zipper descending.

The kiss broke in tandem with Michaela feeling the unmatched delight of being filled, stretched and ravished when she and Quest became one. She rested her hand over Quest’s where his curved over the vine-entwined railing. Her head dipped, shielding her vision as curls tumbled forth.

“Christ Mick…” he groaned, wanting their impromptu love scene to last. He was equal parts frustrated and satisfied by her ability to drive him to the edge so powerfully. An approving smile curved his fantastic mouth seconds before he buried his handsome face in her hair.

He pummeled her with a relentless surge of beautiful thrusts that had them both groaning in shameless abandon. Supreme pleasure had its way and showed no signs of abating. Quest was as much aroused by the way her inner muscles fiercely clenched his cock as he was by the breathy cries she emitted every time he took possession of the haven that was his alone to explore.

Michaela had never felt more alive. Quest’s low, affected groans mainlined radiance through her veins as deftly as his powerful frame at her back enveloped her in a cocoon of security.

~~~

 

“How long will you keep the house?” Quest asked afterwards as they lay on the gazebo floor upon the tangle of clothes and soft vines.

Mick couldn’t open her eyes; she was still so very content. “Haven’t thought about it,” she snuggled her head into a more comfortable position against the broad expanse of his chest. “Not much reason to, I guess,” she raised her head, feeling him stiffen beneath her head, following a soft sudden rush of breath.

“Does that make you mad?” she asked.

“No. Just curious,” he tugged on one of her curls. “Why do you think you need to keep it? because of Driggers?”

“Giving it up…” she looked toward the house, golden lit against the night sky. “Makes it too real-the fact that he’s gone.”

Quest tugged, until she lay flush against him. He pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. “Keep it forever, then,” he ordered, kissing her again. “But you should know I plan to try like hell never to give you a reason to want to move back here.”

Laughter filtered through Mick and she glided the back of her hand across his smooth jaw, hard jaw. “I plan to try like hell never to give you a reason to want me to.”

They sealed the words with low laughter and commitments’ kiss.

~~~

 

The newlyweds returned to the house where they made love again in the shower and ordered take out Chinese made nicer as they dined by candlelight.

“The Shelanon book was my favorite,” Quest shared while popping the bottle cap on his second Heineken. He took a swig and then tilted the bottle in Michaela’s direction. “Why didn’t you put your picture on it?”

She shrugged, smiling as if suddenly shy. “It was about them, not me.”

“Understood, but a real let down for the reader, I have to say.”

She laughed, catching the playfulness in his uncommon stare. “A let down!”

“Hell yeah,” he gave a lazy shrug. “I was already a pretty big fan when I met you… knowing what you looked like,” he shrugged as though he were about to make an obvious point, “knowing what you looked like would’ve taken my adoration to another place entirely.”

She laughed again. “So you’re saying I could’ve been treated to a first-class trip to Seattle long ago?”

“Damn right.”

“Mmm…but then that wouldn’t have been because of my writing but my picture on the back.”

Quest winced teasingly, acknowledging that she’d correctly assumed his motives. “I’d have made time for discussing the book.”

“Right!” Her laughter rushed out more abundantly.

“Seriously- it would’ve been our pillow talk.”

The need for more laughter then was fueled by Michaela’s own amusement as well as the fact that her husband’s sense of humor was nearly as potent as his looks. “It would’ve been good conversation,” she boasted, stabbing a plump broccoli bud from the shrimp lo mein on her plate.

“The Shelanon story got a lot of buzz,” she pointed her fork in his direction. “I did a few book shows and interviews- you would’ve been able to see me then,” she reciprocated Quest’s actions when he winced again and snapped his fingers as if to signify regret of a lost moment.

Michaela shrugged. “The book was a success, but never rang with total triumph for me.”

“Why not?” Quest set his chin to his palm as he watched her.

“Never got the chance to talk to the family’s black sheep.”

“Hmph, they only had one? I’m impressed.”

“He made the other black sheep look gray from what I heard,” Mick spoke around the heap of noodles she’d shoveled into her mouth. “Jacob Shelanon- they said he took his share of the family’s fortune and just poof! Withdrew from society, carved out some kind of retreat in the base of this mountain.”

Quest let out an impressed whistle. “That must’ve been somethin’ to see,” he said while reaching out to snag the last of the Crab Rangoon.

Mick shrugged. “I guess…only no one in the family knew the location. The stories came from folks who’d been on the construction team, but they didn’t stick around long. I was told they were paid well to get lost and to keep quiet about it. I did make use of the contact information the family gave me, though.”

“Ahh…so he wanted to keep in touch in case there was more money to be collected.”

Mick bounced an index finger at Quest to confirm his guess. “Anyway, it didn’t do me much good. The guy changed his number after I’d called a few times- the family worked through a lawyer to track any residual earnings his way.”

“Sounds like a man who valued his privacy.”

“I get that,” Mick took a swig from her water bottle. Her amber stare flashed with something intense then. “I was never trying to make light of how important that is, Quest.”

“I know,” he sighed, understanding that she was speaking of the circumstances that had brought her into his life, “but privacy and distance weren’t things I craved as much from the outside as I craved it from my own family.”

“The drama element,” Mick noted, smiling wanly when he nodded to confirm.

Quest grinned. “Ramsey should be a synonym for drama- it’s existed among us for a long time. My uncle West- he’s the oldest of us. He wanted to distance himself from the family before me or any of my cousins were even born.”

“Hmm...lemme guess...your uncle Marcus had a lot to do with that?”

Chuckling, Quest nodded. “I’m sure he had a lot to do with it- but none of the younger generation ever really got all the story there so…” his expression tensed. “He and my aunt Bri went through a lot. Couple stuff...when they had Bill she was like a blessing for them- they had a lot of misfortune in the child department.”

Michaela nodded then, thinking of her husband’s cousin SyBilla.

“He didn’t want any of the crap this family’s capable of, touching his family- his closest family.” Quest reached out lightly entwining his fingers with hers. “That’s what you are to me Mick- I never want you to regret marrying me.”

“Baby no…” Michaela soothed, clutching Quest’s hand as she traded her chair at the table for one closer to his. “I’d never want that and I saw your aunt and uncle together at our wedding- they looked as newly-wed as we did.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “it’s obvious aunt Bri loves my uncle with every part of her only... my guess is there were days when she wished his last name wasn’t Ramsey.” He drew up Mick’s hand, kissed the back of it. “I think that’s why I didn’t want you around them when you first got to Seattle,” he gave another wince. “Didn’t want to give you any reason to go too soon and that became even more important to me once I’d decided to convince you to marry me.”

“Ah...interesting plan,” Mick scrunched her nose and smiled when she saw that the gesture made her husband laugh. “But you do realize that if your last name wasn’t Ramsey, County wouldn’t have thought you were interesting enough for a book.”

The couple dissolved into roaring laughter which curbed once their lips met in a sweet kiss.

“Quest?” Mick smoothed the back of her hand down his cheek. “Why me? Why’d you come after me?”

“Because you were cute as hell, why else?”

She laughed and dropped a playful slap to his cheek. “So it was all just superficial?”

“At first,” he admitted, sobering. “But by the time you finished that meeting with Quay, it was about more than that.”

“And about more than that when you found out you were my first?” she guessed.

He had the nerve to appear accepting of the fact. “I won’t lie and say that it wasn’t a very nice surprise,” he squeezed her hand, tugging until she was snug in his lap.

“Knowing you were mine- all mine that way...it just made me want to be the one to give you as much of myself as I could and later when I knew even more about you, I wanted to give you all the security you deserved.”

She cupped his face, put a soft kiss to his mouth.

“When you left my office that day to go back to Chicago,” he set her more snuggly against him, “you took a piece of me with you and I couldn’t function without it.”

“I could’ve given it back to you,” Mick teased.

He smirked. “Wouldn’t have been the same, since it belongs to you now. Won’t work properly unless it’s in your possession.”

She hugged him. “I love you.”

“I love you and you’re never getting rid of me,” he swore.

“Is that a promise Mr. Ramsey?” She countered, laughing when he stood and took her with him.

“For you, Mrs. Ramsey, it’s a guarantee,” he said.

They branded each other with a searing kiss that was a promise of delights to come that night and all the nights ahead.

 

***

 

This Ends Lover’s Muse: An Interlude

And Now:

A Lover’s Pretense