Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(131)

Gaze warming, Minka sizes me up. “Later, we’ll work,” she murmurs, lifting her lips to meet mine.

Work is the last thing on my mind. I’m happy to let Mountain Man handle the Shithead Sheriff. Let the rednecks fight the other rednecks over who gets to control this slice of redneck paradise.

Minka leans towards the bed until I pull her back. “I’m not done dancing,” I say, swinging her around and away from the bed.

“I thought you were horny.”

“Yes, ever since I saw you, but we’re in no hurry.”

Relaxing again, Minka moves with me. I lean down and kiss her throat, eliciting a sexy moan from her. My fingers slide up her shirt and pull it over her head. Once I toss it aside, my hands take hers, and I swing her around again.

“People don’t dance enough in life.”

“I’m always saying that.”

I smile at her lie. We move around the hotel room’s small space. Our lips meet again as Sammy Davis Jr. begins to sing. Minka unbuttons my shirt as soon as Frank Sinatra takes over with That’s Life.

“Your music isn’t awful,” she whispers before licking my chest.

“I knew I’d win you over.”

Spinning around, I free one hand from hers and allow it to roam down her back. Minka sighs at my touch. Her indifferent bullshit is gone now. Kissing her again, I keep her lips locked with mine through another song. By the time Frankie Valli sings, her bra hangs from a nearby chair.

Louis Armstrong serenades Ella Fitzgerald as Minka shimmies out of her jeans and panties. Unbuttoning me, she slides down my slacks and painfully small silk boxers. My freed cock stands thick and proud for her inspection.

Giving my hot flesh a long, loving lick, Minka gasps when I tug her back up and return to our dance.

“You’re still wearing socks,” she says, seeming startled.

I reach down to pull them off before tossing them on the chair next to her lacy pink panties.

“Better?” I ask.

All of her secrets fade from her eyes when Minka smiles. Open to me, I see the excited curiosity of a woman normally never excited or curious.

Swinging her around, I pat her ass playfully once she’s back in my arms.

“People don’t dance naked enough.”

“Wow. That was the topic of my last blog.”

Throwing back my head, I laugh at her silly expression that looks so wrong on such an aroused face. Wrong yet perfect.

I dip her back and run my tongue along her breastbone before sliding left to where a hard, ripe nipple waits for me. Minka makes a strangled gasp when I suck the nub of flesh between my lips.

“Dino,” she murmurs in a musical voice.

The heat between her legs calls to my already dripping cock. We need relief, but I linger at her delicious little nipples. Every nibble arouses another moan from Minka until she can’t stop. Her heated cries only pause when I lift her onto my hips and guide my cock into her hot *.

Minka wraps her strong legs around my hips, and we dance our way to a frenzied climax.





10


Dino

Peeling Back Her Layers

Minka is never deadlier than when sporting a bikini. I’ve seen this woman naked more than once now, and I still manage to lose the ability to speak when she whips off her towel to reveal a pale blue top and pink bikini bottom. Minka turns on horrible music on her phone and shakes her ass for me before doing a cannonball into the deep end of the hotel pool.

The pool closed an hour earlier, but I slipped the front-desk clerk a C-note to let us swim without the nuisance of loud kids. Now we have the heated pool and party-sized hot tub to ourselves.

I don’t jump into the pool like a rowdy kid. Walking down the steps, I meet a wet Minka at the middle of the pool.

“You always have to make a big entrance,” she mocks, swimming away from me.

“What is this horrible shit we’re listening to?”

“You’re kidding, right? This is Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. How can you not know that? Oh, and never call my music shit.”

“You can’t even dance to it,” I mutter. “What’s the point?”

“The point is I like it, and you like me, so you need to fake like you enjoy my shitty tastes. I do the same for you.”

“The Rat Pack rules, doll.”

“Sure, and spaghetti is the best food ever!” she cries all excited before giving me a frown, “See how easy that is? Now you fake it.”

“I’ve never dated a woman I needed to fake shit for.”

“It’s called growing up. Tell me how it turns out.”

Laughing, I reach for her, but she’s playing flirtatious mermaid and refuses to let me catch her. I think she knows I plan to harpoon her, and she wants to avoid being impaled for the time being.

“I heard you have a sister,” I say, letting her swim around un-accosted.

“Yeah, Verina is married to a balding fat guy who thinks she can do no wrong.”

“Even if she listens to shitty music?”

Minka smiles at me over her shoulder before diving into the deep end. I watch her feet appear in the air and then she is gone under the water until reemerging at the other end of the pool.

“Her husband, Rick, is always trying to lose weight. Every time we talk on the phone, she tells me about a fad diet she has him and the family on.”