Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(137)

“If you really cared about me, you’d stop calling me Apples.”

“Naw, baby, every man’s got to have a nickname for his woman. My father called my mother, Apron Strings.” Minka frowns at this information, and I realize her shitty upbringing made her weird. “Because she was such a great cook and mother, you see?”

“Yeah, that’s sweet. In our case, you just butchered my last name.”

Now I’m the one laughing. “That’s not why I call you Apples. It’s these perky tits of yours,” I explain while taking in the sight of them hiding behind a tight black and gray striped tee. “I noticed them the first damn day when you were hurrying out of the office to tell Rafael something. Those girls are ripe as hell.”

Minka glances down at her tits, studies them for nearly a minute, and then looks back at me.

“Romantic.”

“Well, I think the Apron Strings thing might have been an inside sex joke between my parents, but I wasn’t gonna ask.”

“Did your mom have a nickname for your dad?”

“She called him master.”

Minka gives me a sly grin that makes my dick painfully hard. I love when she knows I’m f*cking with her.

“You don’t need to worry,” she says in a loving voice, “about Hayes or anyone else. If you and I end, it’ll be us who end it. Not a third party.”

“We’re not ending.”

“I didn’t say we were.”

“I don’t mean now. I mean ever. You’re the one.”

Minka leans back against the door and studies me. “Do I get a say?”

“Of course, but I know what I know.”

Minka’s dark eyes study me again, and I wonder what she’s thinking. I’d love to crack open her head and see what goes on inside her mind. I bet it’s a wild place.

“Did you park here because you were too angry to drive or because you want to go shopping?” she asks, changing the subject.

“There’s nothing in White Horse to do. The bars are closed. The bowling alley is in Hickory Creek, while the movie theater is in Common Bend. So we can walk around this mall, or we can go back to the hotel.”

“Since you’re suffering from f*cking sickness, I guess I should give your dick a break.”

Minka opens her door and climbs out. I bolt from the SUV, worried about trigger-happy *s or even horny men making eyes at Minka. She waits for me to join her.

“I like when your hair gets messy like this,” she says, playing with my non-slicked-back hair. “This is how you look when you’re on top of me.”

“Do you want me to f*ck you right here?” I ask, groaning as my dick grows too big for my slacks. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

“Ice it down, Dino. I want to walk around and see if I find you as attractive dressed as you are naked.”

I grip her hand in mine before noticing a dozen college-aged men near the mall entrance. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I keep her pressed against me.

“You could carry me like a baby on your hip if you think that’d make your point better.”

I frown at a smiling Minka. “What happens when women make eyes at me? Will you let them?”

“Sure. I don’t own you.”

Sharing her smile, I open the mall door. “You’re full of shit.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

I give the college boys a nasty look, and the little one appears ready to wet his f*cking pants. My ego welcomes the shot of confidence after Minka plays everything too cool. I want her worshipping me, not weighing her options.

“Were your parents ever married?” I ask as we sit on a bench near Macy’s and watch people walk by.

“For about a year. They tied the knot when she was a few months into the pregnancy with me and were divorced not long after I was born. Mom said she wanted to have all her kids in wedlock, but marriage wasn’t for her.”

“Is that why you refuse to submit to me?”

Grinning, Minka slides her right leg over mine. “I’m not submitting to anything. If you want that to happen, you’ll need to break me.”

I shake my head and pat her knee. “No breaking. I want you in one piece when you walk down the aisle.”

“Stop talking about shit like that. You think it’s sexy, but it’s not.”

I wrap an arm around her shoulders and gently poke her in the chest. “You know what I think? Your mom put these ideas in your head about how men aren’t necessary. Now you’re a slave to her bullshit thinking.”

“You don’t know anything about my mother.”

“I know you don’t talk to her. Since I’m on your side, I’d assume that makes her the bad guy.”

Minka shrugs, but I know I’ve hit a nerve. She glances at a passing mother pushing a stroller.

“I don’t hate my mom.”

“Then why aren’t you in contact with her? That’s your choice, right?”

“Yeah, I pretend I hate her because it makes avoiding her easier. I’m more disappointed in her than anything else. I wish she were different, but she isn’t.”

“Different how?”

“Less selfish. Never satisfied. Even when she had things, she wanted more. She was always comparing her life to other people doing better. She never felt blessed. I didn’t mind the crime. Her family only knows one way to make money, and they don’t care how they take from others. But they don’t appreciate what they’ve taken. They only want to find someone else to take from.”