High Voltage (Ramsey Security #3)

Minka wants to say something. I can see the need to fuck with me in her eyes. She looks at my fingers sliding under her black bra. Her gaze finds mine, and she only smiles.

“You’re so my bitch,” I say, and her nails dig deeper.

Grinning wider, I squeeze her hard nipples between my fingers. “Your silence means you agree.”

Minka narrows her eyes, but she refuses to respond.

“When you punched me that first day, I knew I’d teach you how to know your place.”

“That’s it,” she says, laughing and smacking away my hands. “I’m kicking your ass.”

She shoves me back on the bed and grabs a pillow.

“I do love a sexy pillow fight,” I say as she pelts me. “Your bra is holding you back. Allow me to help.”

Minka can’t stop laughing even after she tosses aside the pillow and devours my mouth with hers. She finally rolls off of me and laughs herself out.

“I’m in love with a dickhead.”

“Poor, Apples,” I murmur, sliding off her pants. “I feel your pain. And your wet pussy.”

“That’s laughing wetness. I’m not horny at all.”

“Mmm…”

My index finger dips inside her and finds the hot flesh sopping wet.

“Tastes good,” I say, sucking on my finger.

“Be quick about it. I have errands to run.” Minka lifts a leg and rests her foot over my shoulder. “You may serve me with your Italian sausage.”

“You engaged chicks sure are bossy.”

“I am engaged,” she whispers, sliding off her shirt. “My man takes good care of me.”

Minka’s panties tear easily, and I take a whiff of her warm scent.

“I’m going to fuck you stupid,” I say, tossing them aside and relaxing my body on top of hers.

“I like when you make idle threats.”

Accepting her challenge, I strip us both and make her beg for an hour. Minka turns the tables after faking a leg cramp. We finish our morning fuck with me handcuffed to the bed begging for relief.

“That’s a good sausage,” she murmurs to my cock after sucking it dry.

Minka and I finally clean up enough to get a meal and head to a used car dealership belonging to Asshole Hayes.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” Minka asks me as we stand next to a sporty little green SUV.

“Compared to the dump she was driving, yeah, I’d guess she would.”

“You don’t get why I’m doing this, do you?”

“I get everything. I just don’t feel as guilty about shit as you do.”

“It’s true that I’m a nicer person than you. Now, should I get this car?”

“Sure. If she doesn’t like it, she’s a bitch.”

“Why are you so damn cranky?”

“I don’t want you ever feeling bad about anything.”

Minka smiles and pats my cheek. “You’re setting yourself up to be cranky for the rest of your life.”

“Yeah, but better to aim for perfection than accept mediocrity.”

“Gorgeous and wise? I’ve got myself a real catch.”

Minka’s smile is infectious. I’m grinning while she talks with the salesman. Despite my sudden good mood, I need to stand between them because I don’t like all of the eye contact he makes.

Ten minutes later, Hayes agrees to let Ruby bring back the car if she doesn’t like it and get something at a similar price. Listening to him on the phone, I wonder if he’s flirting with her. Every time his voice sounds a little too friendly, I clear my throat and mention that he smells like a pig. He eventually hollers cuss words at me, and Minka hangs up on him.

“Let’s wrap this up,” she says to the salesperson behind me.

I’d rather spend the cash on a ring for my woman, but Minka’s do-goodery makes her happy. Besides, the sooner we tie up things in Redneck Paradise, the sooner our relationship can become official back to Houston.

I follow Minka from the car dealership to the Lush Gardens Trailer Park. Ruby stands near the entrance, unwilling to let us see her home. She looks around nervously when we drive up.

“Biker issues?” I ask after parking.

“No. Just wondering about Black.”

“He has bigger problems.”

Ruby nods, but remains on edge.

Minka hands Ruby the keys to the sporty compact SUV. “It was a repo. Only 6,000 miles on it.”

Not understanding, Ruby frowns. “Okay.”

“It’s yours,” Minka adds. “If you don’t like it, you can get credit at the White Horse Auto Plaza for something else.”

“Why?” Ruby asks, realization brightening her eyes.

“Black trashed your car because of us, so we figured…”

“It isn’t your fault he’s an asshole.”

“No, but we wanted to do it.”

“I don’t know,” Ruby says. Stepping away, she hands back the keys.

“Look,” I mutter, “it's not personal, okay? We’ve done bad shit, and we’re doing nice shit to even things out. Call it kissing up to God or karma, but this gesture isn’t really about you. Now take the car or sell it or return it. We don’t care. We’re leaving town and will never see you again. Whatever you fucking decide to do, just do it. Nice meeting you and your kid. Good luck and goodbye.”