The Masseuse (13 page)

Ramsey chuckled, but kissed her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s yours.”

“Don’t forget it again.”

He nipped at her lip, before pulling her tight against him. “I won’t.”

Chapter 9

Like clockwork, Ramsey awoke at directly 6 o’clock. It didn’t matter that it was Sunday; his body was never able to sleep past that time unless he was completely worn out, and even then, it was difficult.

He looked to the sleeping woman in his arms and smirked.

Why was she always beautiful? Make-up-less, hair sticking every which way, and sleeping, she looked like an angel. If not for the fact that she’d told him she was thirty-two, and he knew she was a successful CEO, Ramsey would have guessed she was perhaps in her mid-twenties, late twenties max. Jezebel had smooth, toffee colored skin that made him itch to lick it, just to see if it was as sweet. He knew from experience that it was actually sweeter. Her face was oblong, with large doe-eyes, soft, full lips, a straight, slightly flared nose and high cheekbones. The first time he’d seen her, he’d been intrigued by her beauty...and her ass. He smirked. Ramsey Stone never considered himself an ass-man until Jezebel’s derriere entered his peripheral. She’d been at one of those SBA events; the first one Ramsey attended. He’d been bored and was just about to leave when they introduced the panelists. From then, he’d been rooted to his seat in awe...and groin pain. Jezebel was not only beautiful, she was intelligent, and had a grace and charm about her that was unmatched.

The longer he remained beside her, inhaling the sweet musk coming from her body and staring at her profile, the events of last night raced back to him. Last night had been bad. It was their first real fight and he’d been terrified that she’d leave him. Ramsey didn’t get terrified often, but last night, he’d been willing to do anything to make her stay...and she had.

He shook his head. He wasn’t embarrassed by her, and while he could understand why she’d think that, he’d never before given her a reason to. Ramsey enjoyed accompanying her places. He enjoyed walking into restaurants and events with her on his arm, enjoyed glaring at every male who ogled her to tell them silently that she was his. His family, on the other hand, wouldn’t understand their relationship. Not only was she African American, she had nothing that would make her appealing to them. Yes, Jezebel was beautiful and successful, but beauty was everywhere and the money she had was pittance in comparison to the wealth that had been building for generations in his. He was expected to make a match that would propel them into a different sphere, and Jezebel wasn’t it.

Having to use the bathroom, Ramsey pushed from his bed, not worried about disturbing her. His mattress had duality, allowing for one set of settings on one side and another set on the other. As such, her side wouldn’t move if he moved. After releasing his bladder and brushing his teeth, he checked to make sure Jezebel was still sleeping, before finding another robe—his robe was somehow wrapped around her—and heading for the kitchen. He was thirsty.

Ramsey had just poured himself a glass of orange juice when the two distinct clicks in his kitchen alerted him that someone was riding the elevator up. Only two people had keys to his apartment. Vince would never come here unannounced and the other, he’d given for
emergency
uses. Pulling open one of the higher counters, he stared at the flat screen monitor that showcased a tall, dark-haired man wearing a rumpled suit. Looking directly at the camera, the man yawned and wiped his face.

Closing the counter door, Ramsey turned to the kitchen entrance, took a hearty drink of his juice, and waited. He didn’t have to wait long. His brother sauntered into the kitchen, pausing briefly to lift a brow as if he hadn’t expected Ramsey to be home. Obviously, Bastian had done this a few times in the past weeks when Ramsey had been with Jezebel.

Sebastian “Bastian” Stone smiled as his brother frowned. He was three years younger, but people usually mistook them for twins. They were the same height, though Ramsey had always held out that he had ½ an inch on him, but Bastian had closed that slight gap when he reached eighteen. In addition to that, they had the same general build. Both were tall, lean, and had similar muscle tone.

“What are you doing here?” Ramsey bit out, eyeing Bastian’s rumpled clothing.

His brother only smirked, and walked around the island to his refrigerator. “You said I could come here for emergencies.”

At the closer distance, Ramsey caught the scent of smoke, alcohol, and perfume.

“What’s the emergency?”

“I need a place to stay...for a few hours.”

“You have a condo.” Although Ramsey owned and was CEO of The Osiris, Inc., he’d made his brother the Vice President of Marketing, and Bastian had done well in the position...with the help of a superb team.

“And a wife,” Bastian muttered.

“And a daughter.”

His brother tossed him a glare as he lifted a glass of water to his lips. “I know that.”

“Maybe you should start acting like it.”

“Stay out of my business, Ram,” Bastian muttered, draining the contents in the glass in one continuous gulp.

“I would but you keep bringing your business to me.”

“I just need a shower...and some clothes.” He smirked, revealing dimples. “The usual.”

“She’s going to leave you, you know.” Ramsey shook his head. “And she’s going to take Lily.”

Bastian scoffed. “Sarah isn’t stupid. She’d never take my daughter. She knows better.”

“This is America. She’s going to leave you, take your kid and half of your money.”

“Worry about the family business—stop worrying about my wife and kid.” He smirked. “You didn’t marry her, did you?” Bastian pulled is shirt from his pants. “Could have. You could have married her and Lily would be yours. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” He chuckled, then sobered slightly to reminiscence. “Sarah wanted you—we all knew it—she was like a bitch in heat after you, Ram...” Bastian moved away when Ramsey put the glass on the counter and took a threatening step in his direction. “...but you didn’t want to marry anyone. No, you were all about your education, and of course, the old man respected that, so she settled for me.”

Ramsey’s lip curled. “You didn’t have to marry her.”

“Someone did.” Bastian stumbled as he attempted to walk away from Ramsey. “And you were being a little bitch about it.”

Ramsey stepped around the island, grabbed Bastian by the lapels and shook him. “That’s enough!” He glared into eyes just as dark as his and read anger, frustration...maybe even hate. His brother was never this bold but the alcohol had given him courage. Sometimes Ramsey wondered if Bastian truly hated him. “You made your choice. You didn’t have to. I told you I’d fix it and you choose her. Sarah’s a good woman and she gave you a beautiful daughter.”

Bastian shoved at him and Ramsey released him when it seemed his brother was going to take them both to the floor. “I would say ‘fuck you’ but you’d probably cut me off for the disrespect, so instead, I’m just going to say: Mind your fucking business,
brother
. Sarah’s my wife, Lily’s my kid—get your own and stop fucking worrying about mine.”

He was about to respond, when Bastian suddenly focused on something over his head. His brows furrowed and he looked at Ramsey, before a large smile broke out across his lips. “Well, hello there.”

Ramsey almost groaned, knowing who his brother had seen. Turning slightly, he found Jezebel standing in the kitchen’s entrance, one hand tugging his oversized robe tightly around her body as she looked uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you had company.”

“It’s fine.” Bastian stepped past Ramsey to walk to her. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Jezebel.”

His brother looked over his shoulder at him, and repeated her name in a way that made Ramsey want to throw him to the floor and kick his ass.

“I’m Sebastian, Ramsey’s brother.” He caught her hand and gently shook it. “So, what are you doing in my brother’s apartment?”

“Don’t you have something to do, Bastian?” Ramsey asked in a steely tone. He forced a smile for Jezebel, who was staring between the two of them curiously.

“No. No I don’t.” Bastian leered at Jezebel. “Are you the woman who’s been keeping Ramsey
occupied
?”

When she blushed and looked back to him, Ramsey gave her a small, encouraging smile and murmured, “You can wait for me upstairs, Jez. I’ll be there in a few.”

She looked back to Bastian. “It was nice meeting you, Bastian.”

“Oh, sweetheart, the pleasure’s all mine,” he drawled.

As soon as Jezebel was out of sight, and he could no longer hear her footsteps, Ramsey caught his brother by the neck and slammed him into the nearest wall.

“Shit!” Bastian moaned, wincing and squinting as his back collided with the sheetrock. He was lucky the nearest wall wasn’t brick. “That fuckin’ hurt!”

When his brother only smiled in that silly, drunk manner, Ramsey slapped him. Hard. He wanted his brother as sober as possible for what he was about to tell him. Bastian blinked and then looked confused.

“Do not fuck with me on this, Sebastian.” Ramsey purposely kept his voice low. “I put up with a lot of your shit because you’re my brother, my blood, but I will fucking kill you myself if you fuck with this relationship. Do you understand me?”

Bastian blinked at him for long moments, as if confused, and Ramsey, impatient already, slammed him against the wall again. “Do. You. Understand. Me?”

“Yes!” He winced. “Shit.”

He glared at his brother long and hard before releasing him. Bastian watched him in confusion, but Ramsey ignored it. “You have an hour to clean yourself up—use the guest-bedroom on this floor—and get out.
One hour
. And I don’t want to see you here again unless I tell you to come over.” Ramsey moved to the refrigerator and removed a tray of eggs. When he didn’t hear footsteps, he turned to find Bastian staring at him...still confused. “Fifty-nine minutes. If you’re not done by then, I’m going to haul your ass out.”

Bastian threw up his hands. “Whatever. If you want to play house with some—” He halted when Ramsey tensed, and said, “
American...
then what-the-fuck-ever. It’s none of my business.”

“It isn’t.” At least they were in agreement about that.

His brother was heading from the kitchen when Ramsey called, “Say hello to Sarah for me, and tell Lily I love her.”

Bastian didn’t respond, but Ramsey hadn’t expected one.

He moved back to the refrigerator, this time opening the freezer for the bacon. Jezebel loved bacon, especially the way he made it with a bit of special Korean sauce. He found two frying pans, and went to work, scrambling eggs, frying bacon, and making coffee. Next he found a tray large enough to hold two plates, two cups, bowls of strawberries and blueberries...and made his way to the private elevator he rarely used. He didn’t want to spill anything.

In his room, Jezebel was sitting on his bed, waiting. She didn’t speak as he placed the tray on the mattress, but she watched him curiously.

Leaning down, he kissed her softly, and she instantly lost some of her tension.

“I made breakfast,” he murmured.

“With bacon?”

Ramsey chuckled. “Lots of bacon.”

And that was why he loved this woman. No matter how angry he was, Jezebel could bring him calm...peace. He hadn’t had that before her. He’d usually have to bring himself down, and he’d started suppressing his emotions because of it.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted your conversation with your brother,” she said when he pulled away.

“You didn’t intrude on anything.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Bastian is...special.”

Jezebel snorted. “No he’s not.”

“He is.” He grinned and took a seat on the bed next to her.

She stared at him long and hard, and he couldn’t help but get lost in her gorgeous doe-like eyes. They were a strange brown, not light enough to be obvious, but if you stared at them long enough, you realized they were almost...orange. He couldn’t explain it. “Are you twins?”

He smirked and grabbed a strip of bacon. “Bastian wishes he was this handsome.”

As she chuckled, he lifted it to her lips. Jezebel took it eagerly and as she chewed, he explained, “Bastian’s my younger brother by three years.”

“Oh.” She grabbed a strip of bacon. Always the bacon, he thought in amusement. “Do you have other siblings?”

“No, it’s just us.”

Jezebel lifted the strip to his lips, which pleasantly surprised him. As he chewed, she reached for a fork, and lifted some of the eggs to her mouth.

“Are you close?”

“Very.” They weren’t currently, but in the grand scheme of things, they had to be.

She nodded. “Is he going to tell the rest of your family about me?”

“Possibly,” Ramsey answered, though if his brother knew what was good for him, he’d keep his mouth shut. Jezebel sighed, and looked away. He instantly caught her chin. “I love you, Jezebel, and nothing and no one’s going to change that.”

She remained silent for long moments, but then she asked softly, as if unsure whether she should even be asking it, “What about your parents?”

He caught her cheek, and leaned forward. “You can ask me anything, Jez.
Anything.
” He brushed her lips lightly before saying, “My mother lives in South Korea. My Dad died when I was ten.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He nodded. So was he. He only had a few memories of the man, but they were all good. Ramsey wished he had more, but his grandfather had more than made up for the hole his father had left.

“What about your Dad?” he asked after long moments of silence. Jezebel always talked about her mother and her sister, but he’d never heard of a father.

She shrugged. “Never met him.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“Don’t know who he is.” Although she smiled, he read the pain there quite easily. He’d had months to learn her and Ramsey knew when Jezebel was truly smiling and when she was putting on a show.

“Oh.”

“Yeah...” She sighed. “Mom was a hippie. She was on that
carpe diem
movement, and well...then I came along.”