What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4)

by Selena Kitt

  And now as she turns around, she has a model-style stance: back arched slightly, pushing her breasts out just a hair further. They are perfectly round, pert, perky. I stop breathing. Her nipples are a warm pink, accented by the platinum barbells barely visible on either side of her fully erect nipples. The barbells are accented with bright green and purple balls. My cock is throbbing and I can feel drops of pre-cum forming and sliding down my shaft.

  Pulling in a deep, ragged breath and licking my lips, I can’t stop my hands from trailing up her soft skin from the waistband of her shorts to her luscious pink areolas. She is breathing deep and heavy. Her nipples are so hard and swollen now that her barbells are reduced to the balls on either side. She arches her back, pushing her breasts into my hands. My thumbs graze over her nipples and she moans.

  “You’re so delicate and beautiful, like a little lily. Begging to open like a flower.”

  Her breathing spikes. I can feel her heart pounding against my hands, begging me to continue. My hands continue the path they were making. Slowly, up to her shoulders, her neck, her cheeks, cupping her face. I pull her head up slightly and bring her lips to mine. She kisses me back, urgent and excited. I can hardly breathe. This girl is literally taking my breath away.

  Then I feel her hands on my hips. Searching for what? Ah, she finds it, the hem of my shirt. She starts to lift it up as I continue kissing her. She pulls upward until she meets the resistance of my arms. I smile against her lips. “Did you want to take off my shirt?”

  She laughs, but it comes out hot and heavy, almost a pant. “Yes,” she breathes. I raise up my arms, and in a nanosecond, off goes my shirt. She immediately drops it to the floor and takes about a half step back in an attempt to take in the full view of the tattoo on my chest. I watch as she licks her lower lip, the tongue ring she was chewing on earlier showing its bright green ball. Her hands glide along my shoulders, down my pecs; she finds my stud-pierced nipples with her thumbs and rubs lightly. Ah, my God, that…Jesus. “Ah!” I grab her hips and pull her close. Her own nipples press against my stomach, hard and cold. I want so badly to warm them with my tongue.

  The idea of my tongue stroking her nipples causes my now-aching dick to twitch. She flinches at the motion and presses further into me. Consuming me. What little restraint I have is being lost. God I want her. I want her so bad. But I have to stop this.

  “This feels right, Tristan,” she says, like she’s been reading my mind. “I can’t help myself. I want you.” She reaches up to stroke my chin with her index finger.

  “Baby-girl, I want you, too, but neither one of us are in a good frame of mind. We have been through so much. I…” How do I say that I need to do this the right way? Somehow, deep down in my heart and soul, I know that Cami is more than any woman I’ve ever known. She is going to mean more to me. “I want – no not want – I need to take this slow. Have dinner with me tonight?”

  “I…” She has a look of hesitation in her eyes. Disappointed maybe? “I would love to, Tristan.” She smiles up at me and I kiss her soft warm lips. A chaste kiss.

  “Good, I can’t wait. Meet me downstairs in Blu at seven?”

  She giggles. “Sounds hot! I’ll be there. What are you going to do now?”

  “Well, first I’m going to kiss you again.” I do – sweet, unhurried, but chaste because I know a deeper kiss would crash all the walls of control I have. I pull back. “Now, I am going to head up to my room and take a very cold shower.” I back away slightly and shiver at the lack of contact between us. Her body, so warm and pressed against me, makes me yearn for her. “And then climb into bed to sleep. I haven’t slept for nearly forty-eight hours and I am dead on my feet.”

  “Jeez, baby, that is too long. Go get some sleep. I would love to join you, but I am pretty sure that sleep is the last thing that would happen.” She laughs then. “I think that I’m going to have a soak in the tub. Talk to Beau and Mick about a couple of things, then maybe do some shopping or take a nap.”

  “Sounds like fun, Baby-girl. If I can’t sleep, I’ll track you down. There are only so many places you can hide. How does that sound?”

  “Perfect.”

  I lean in and kiss her again. Then I bend down, picking up her shirt. I straighten it out, gather up the bottom, and gesture toward her. She leans forward slightly so I can gently pull the shirt over her head. I hold it open for her while she gingerly puts her arms in the sleeves.

  It’s unbearable to have her covered back up again, but it’s better this way. At least that is what I’m telling myself in my head as I pull her shirt down over her torso. I then reach into her waistband and pull her shorts up, careful not to snag the fabric on her corset piercing.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. I am very glad that you’re here and that you are so understanding of everything that has happened.”

  “Oh, Tristan, how could I not be. You have done nothing wrong. I just hope that this has a positive outcome for you.”

  “Whatever the outcome, it won’t matter to me.”

  “I truly admire that attitude. I should take a lesson from you on self-control, too.” She smiles and brushes my chin with the back of her hand. “Go get some sleep, otherwise I am going to put you in my bed.” Her tone is light, but there’s a pleading in her eyes.

  “Baby-girl, that sounds absolutely amazing. But it will do us both more good if I go to my room. I will see you in Blu at seven. I’ll make reservations at Caran for dinner.” I kiss her again. “Enjoy your day, baby-girl.”

  I bend down, pick up my shirt and phone, and head toward the door. I look over my shoulder to drink in her beauty one more time. She’s standing there with her arms wrapped around herself, almost like she’s cold. My heart sinks. She looks so alone. I want to walk back to her and embrace her, hold her. I feel my feet trying to move forward, but my mind is out of the suite and into the hallway. I’m so torn. My head wins, and reach for the door.

  “See you soon,” I holler as I open the door.

  Once outside the suite, I look at my phone and a bitter smile creeps to my lips. Thank the Lord for the silent setting. Ten missed calls in less than two hours. All from Layla. Fuck that! I hit the power button and head to the elevator and to my room.

  Once in the elevator I take a deep breath. Cami has proven that she is more than just something good to look at. She has an uncanny no-nonsense business sense, which makes her even more appealing. Being around Cami this morning has taken the sting and frustration out of this whole mess. For the first time since Tuesday night, I finally feel like my life has normalcy to it. I feel that for once I can really just let things fall where they may. The story, Layla, my career – none of it matters when I’m with Cami.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cami

  Slumping back into the club chair after Tristan left, I realize that this vacation is starting out like a dream. For years and years I have looked into the eyes of Tristan Michaels via news articles, magazine covers, online photos, and whatever else I could find, and I always felt a connection to him, despite the fact that it was just a photo. Sometimes I wondered if I wasn’t a little crazy.

  Now he is right above me, sleeping, has seen me half naked, and I’ve felt his desire for me in the twitch of his cock against my stomach. My head swims at the idea that the man I’ve idolized for the last four or five years wants me. Looking into his eyes today, I felt the same connection that I’ve felt looking at his pictures, but live and in living color. I can’t believe it. I feel like I need to wake myself up because the further into this dream I get, the more disappointed I am going to be when I wake up.

  And because of Tristan, I’m starting to feel like I can do something more with my life than live off of my trust. Sure, I went to college. It was because I wanted an education. I loved school and it was something I was good at. I never thought that I was going to be great at anything else. But now, after having dealt with Trinity on a professional level on behalf of Tristan, I feel this
almost nervous excitement at the prospect of being in an active role within Bold.

  “Gah” I huff in frustration, puling my knees to my chest. Can I really do this CEO stuff? Trinity swears that it is going to be easy, but sometimes I wonder if she is just placating me so that she doesn’t have to do it herself. I guess it says something that after a year of doing the CEO thing and maintaining her clients, she’s still with Bold, still doing what she does best. Can I really take over Bold and be CEO?

  This is something I know is coming, but I never expected that Bold would become a full-fledged portion of my life. For the last year I have been secretly hoping that there would be a loophole out of the terms of Bobbie’s will and that taking over as CEO would not be something I would ever have to do.

  And suddenly I find myself sucked into it in a whole new way because of Tristan. While I’m supposed to be on vacation, no less. How ironic.

  I walk out on to my balcony and sit in one of the wicker lounge chairs. Looking out at the clear, blue, inviting Pacific Ocean, I’m surrounded by a gentle breeze that carries with it the scents of the ocean, sand, and a faint hint of sunscreen. The day is warm – probably the warmest yet – and the beach is nearly full of hotel patrons and guests either swimming or sunbathing. The waves are gentle and the tide is out. The kids on the beach are walking along the wet sand picking up seashells. There is a cute little girl showing her mommy every little shell she finds.

  I feel hot, wet tears slide down my cheeks at the sight of all the families on the beach, and I’m quickly reminded that I’ve never had that experience. Never been able to spend time on a family vacation.

  Wiping the tears from my eyes, I give up on that thought process. Dwelling on something that I cannot change will only make the heartache worse. Never truly knowing why my parents didn’t want to be close to me is something I came to accept more than a year ago. Bobbie is gone.

  I suck in a deep breath in an attempt to clear my mind. What a whirlwind of emotions the last couple of days have been. Thirty-six hours ago I was crushed about Reed’s games and bullshit, and now I feel like a woman who has been struck by cupid himself.

  My feelings for Reed were always on the brink of going somewhere, even though I knew, deep down inside, Reed was not the man for me. Sure, he was good in bed and he had no problem feeding into my submissive fetishes. But every time I thought that I was giving into my emotions with him, he would do something that would remind me why I couldn’t fall in love with him. He was somewhat emotionally abusive in that respect.

  But Tristan. Tristan is a whole new ball game altogether. Every time I look at him, something blooms deep down inside. My heart feels like it is swelling beyond allowable limits, and most of all, my stomach flutters at his touch. I’ve never known these parts to exist on this capacity before; I’m not sure I know how to handle these feelings.

  Tristan’s touch is electric, a jolt straight to my heart and deep into my soul. I can’t quite comprehend the fact that the pictures don’t do him justice, but the way he looks at Layla in those pictures tells me that there is something more to be had when it comes to Tristan Michaels.

  Not to mention the incredible sexual chemistry. The desire to have him inside me is undeniable. Were it not for Tristan’s self-control, I’d be in bed with him right now.

  But to Tristan, Layla was far more than sex. They lived together. They carried on a normal relationship. Is it too soon after Layla? Is that why he wants to take it slow?

  Then of course there is the fact that he is this ginormous celebrity who is young and gorgeous and has every woman pining for him. The character he plays in Love is Burning is every woman’s fantasy man. I’ve never seen his movies – and I don’t have any intention to – but I’ve read the books and know that the character he plays, Dakota, is quite the catch: smart, sexy, rich, and unobtainable. Dakota has been compared to the likes of Romeo and Mr. Darcy, which of course brings out the crazy-obsessed women. It’s not really Tristan they want; it’s Dakota. They don’t know the real Tristan from the guy standing next to them. It’s an image. I, however, am getting the opportunity to know Tristan for who he is.

  But what if he sees me as just one more of those other women? Does he want to take it slow because he’s worried I’m going to turn out to be another fan obsessed with Dakota? Should I remind him that I’ve never seen any of his movies? Or will that just sound like an insult?

  I groan out loud. I’m driving myself crazy. I need to stop thinking about this.

  Waking up around five, I quickly realize that I’m just as flushed and anxious as I was before I laid down. Thank goodness for the iPod. Lord knows I would never have slept without the relaxing melodies.

  I have about half an hour before I really need to get moving, so I head to the sitting room. The maids have been through, picked up, cleaned up my lunch, and straightened the sitting room. I also notice some packages sitting on the table. I ordered some clothes from Gucci for tonight’s date before I lay down for my nap; they must have delivered them while I was asleep. I grab my smokes and head out onto the balcony.

  The sun is sitting low on the horizon, but the warmth is wonderful on my skin. The beach isn’t as full as it was earlier, but there are still plenty of people milling about, enjoying the sun and the surf. There is a group of about five kids working on what appears to be a huge sandcastle.

  The island itself is very small, if islands can be classified as small. From my balcony I can see the ocean on three of the four sides. There are lush tropical trees, and you can hear some of the birds from up here. The ocean water is crystal clear blue. Warm and inviting. Tomorrow I intend to spend the day on the beach, in the water. It’s about time I got a damned tan. I laugh out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” I recognize the voice, but still it makes me jump.

  “I…um, was thinking about how bad I need a tan.” I turn and look into my suite. It’s empty. “What the hell?”

  “Look up, beautiful,” he says. His voice is soft, sweet, and inviting.

  I look up and, sure enough, leaning over the edge of…what is he leaning on? “Are you in the pool?”

  He laughs. “I am. Want to join me?” He wiggles his eyebrows in a very suggestive manner. His smile is inviting and seductive.

  Trying to catch my breath before speaking, I look at him a moment. “I would, but I have this date with this totally hot, amazing guy that deserves everything I can throw at him – hair, nails, makeup, the whole nine yards – so I should start getting ready.” I smile as sweetly as I can manage without giving away my teasing tones.

  “Lucky guy!” he mumbles.

  “I think I am the lucky one.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Yes, Mr. Michaels, we shall see about that.” I giggle as he blushes the color of a cherry. “I am very much looking forward to our date tonight.” I finish my cigarette, putting it out in the ashtray, and look back up at Tristan. “Enjoying the view?” I smile.

  “I am very much enjoying the view. Good thing you’re not in the pool with me. I’m not wearing swimming trunks. I might scare you.” His grin is wicked and knowing.

  I laugh out loud. “I highly doubt that. Besides, those trunks leave very little to the imagination.” I wink. “See you in a couple of hours.” I take two long strides into the suite, and before I manage to shut the door, I hear a grunt and a Tristan-style groan.

  “You’re killing me, woman!” I hear him shout as the door clicks closed.

  I laugh and head for the shower to get cleaned up. I manage to disengage the leather throng from my back so that I can restring it.

  Once out of the shower, I put on the panties, garter belt, and thigh highs I ordered from downstairs. I’m going braless tonight because the dress has a fully open back. Not wanting to get makeup or anything else on it, I save the dress for later.

  Just over an hour later my makeup is done: in light purples and looking smoking hot. My eyes are accented with diamond-like pasty-gems that
bring out the blue in my eyes.

  My hair is a curly, messy, up-do style that is swept to my right side. I’m head over heels in love with the way it turned out. The flowers in the sitting room were changed while I slept, and in the vase is a beautiful white with purplish colored trim water lily. I decapitate it and place it in my hair as an accent piece over my left ear.

  I lace my corset with black and purple ribbons braided together. Braiding them makes them easier to pull through the hoops, and the two colors look great together.

  The dress is made of silver satin with a tank top-style top that has narrow shoulder straps that wrap around my arms. The back is completely open with a small gathering of material that falls just to my hips. The front is loose across my chest.

  Standing in front of the full length bathroom mirror, I can see the entire ensemble come together. Turning to my right and looking toward my left shoulder in the mirror, I can see that the top half of my corset is clearly visible, which was the idea. My wings are in full view, except for the outer tips, which are under the shoulders of the dress. The straps of the dress match up perfectly with the top of my shoulder caps. My hair is over my right shoulder slightly.

  The dress also came with a beautiful, deep purple lace shawl I plan to bring with me. A smile of satisfaction spreads across my face as I climb into the five-inch purple Christian Loubtin Alti evening pumps. I’m beyond satisfied with everything: the hair, the flower, the dress, the makeup, the shoes – it’s the perfect combination. Tristan will be brought to his knees.

  With everything in hand and ready to go, I head to the elevator and downstairs, into Blu.

  Chapter Thirteen

  From the moment I walk into Blu and see Tristan, I know nothing will ever be the same. He has not yet seen me, but he is wearing a beautiful black suit with a purple silk shirt, accented with a silver tie. Seeing him dressed like this makes my heart skip a beat; my breathing has altogether stopped and my knees start to tremble. I do, however, manage to keep my mouth from falling to the floor.