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

by Selena Kitt

  His warm breath makes me shudder.

  ‘Do you want more?’ His voice is gravelly, low.

  I can hardly speak because I’m craving more, so I just make do with nodding.

  He rolls me onto my back and laces his fingers through mine, stretching my arms above my head while his tongue seeks mine.

  Releasing my hands, he lifts up on one elbow. ‘How much more do you want?’

  ‘I want to try and do this,’ I whisper.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  I nod, biting my lip.

  He crawls down my body, leaving a trail of kisses until he gets to my jeans. Slowly, he unbuttons them, pulling them off and throwing them onto the floor. His gaze sweeps over me as if trying to commit every part to memory. ‘You’re so beautiful.’

  My lips curl into a smile, and I touch his stomach, splaying my hands across the perfectly sculpted rigid muscles. His head drops back, lashes fluttering, and he moans before quickly removing his jeans.

  Keeping his eyes on mine, he slides on top of me, between my legs, just the thin fabric of our underwear between us. Bracing himself above me, his muscles flex as he keeps his weight on his arms and kisses me deeply, taking the desire I’m giving willingly, but not demanding anything. The kiss intensifies, rising in sensual passion, tongues wildly duelling against each other.

  I break the kiss and pant out, ‘I want you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We can stop any time. Just say the word and we’ll stop.’ He reaches for a condom in his jeans pocket and puts it on. Then he crawls up between my legs, running kisses that have me writhing underneath him while he peels off my knickers.

  He settles his body between my legs again. I close my eyes, and his hardness is pressing on top of my thigh, his weight pushing me down.

  When the springs of the mattress dig into my back, everything changes. I’m suddenly back there, in Theo’s bedroom.

  My heart races. Every muscle stiffens. A scream builds deep inside.

  ‘Stop!’ My eyelids fly open.

  He freezes, his eyes unfocused with desire.

  I press my hand against his chest, pushing him away. I’m crying out ‘No, no, no!’ and I can’t stop as I claw at him to get off me.

  Then he realizes what’s happening and rolls off the bed to stand beside it. ‘Shit, I’m so sorry, Grace.’

  I’m panting hard, my heart hammering, everything turning to panic and fear. My body curls in a protective ball on the bed.

  ‘It’s me. Ben,’ he says urgently, loudly, trying to drown out the half-strangled screams that sound like a wounded animal. He kneels in front of the bed but doesn’t touch me. ‘I’m not going to let anything happen to you, OK? You’re safe. It’s not happening now, Grace, you’re here. With me. Look at me, OK. Just look at me and breathe.’

  I shudder, desperately focusing on his face and his soothing voice, trying to get my brain to connect with my eyes so there can be no mistake who he is and exactly where I am.

  ‘Who am I, Grace?’

  ‘Ben,’ I croak, my throat raw.

  His voice permeates my head as he repeats himself, letting me know I’m safe. I’m not really back there. With Theo.

  When my jerking breaths subside and I can speak again, I’m limp. Drained. ‘Please don’t be sorry.’ Salty tears slide down my face and the back of my throat. ‘It’s my fault, not yours. I’m the one who should be sorry. I can’t do anything right.’

  He sits on the bed next to me and gathers me into his arms, stroking the back of my head, his breath feathering across my forehead. ‘Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that, Grace. Please, please don’t feel like it’s your fault. You know it’s not.’

  I rest my head against his chest, the tears falling onto his skin as he holds me gently.

  ‘I can’t do this,’ I say.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. There’s no rush.’

  I pull back. ‘It does matter. I want to feel like a normal woman again. In every way. I don’t want him to still own that part of me. I’m too damaged to ever be completely intimate with you.’ I find myself wishing I’d slept with someone else before Theo, just so I’d know something different. I’m scared that if I can’t do it with Ben, the man I love more than anything, I’ll never be able to do it with anyone.

  ‘Shh. You’re just scared, and it’s completely natural after what that bastard did. Don’t force it, Grace. You can’t hurry your healing process any faster than it wants to go.’

  I shake my head. ‘Even if you think you can wait for me to get through this, it’s not fair on you. I’m just too messed up to be able to give you what you want. To have a proper relationship with you.’

  ‘Don’t I get to decide what’s fair for me? Grace—’

  ‘No, please don’t say anything. It will just make it harder.’ My eyes sting with tears. ‘You know it and I know it. I…I.’ I search for the words that are going to break a little piece of my heart. ‘I just can’t do this. Us. It’s never going to work.’ I can’t bear to look at him anymore. ‘Please, just go.’

  He stands up. Rubs his hand over his face as he shakes his head. ‘OK, if that’s what you want.’

  ‘I do.’ I keep my gaze locked on the wooden floorboards so I don’t have to see the hurt on his face. This is the way it has to be. He deserves someone so much better than me.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Ben

  I run through the dark night, my heart crushing my chest as I pound the pavements. I weave through the drunken groups of people spilling out of the pubs and clubs in town and head…who knows where? I’m just running to get rid of this nauseas feeling. Maybe I’m trying to outrun myself.

  This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed her. Should never have kissed her in the first place. What the fuck was I thinking, letting my own feelings get in the way? I’m a selfish bastard. I thought I could help her, but I’ve just caused more damage.

  When I get to the river, I stop, staring at the black expanse of water. I bend over and rest my hands on my knees until my ragged gasps of breath calm down.

  Thoughts pound in my head. Does this mean we can’t be friends anymore, either? It will kill me to stay away from her, but if this is what she needs, I have to respect it. I have to keep my distance, and just hope that one day she’ll change her mind. Even if she doesn’t want me now, I can wait for her. I’ll wait forever if I have to. It’s time to stop thinking of myself for a change.

  And if I never feel anything ever again, I’ll always remember how her hands all over my body make my heart melt inside.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Grace

  I let the tears fall until there are no more left. I thought I was ready. Wanted to be ready. But Ben pressing into me brought it all back. The fear, the pain, the helplessness.

  I’ll never be ready so there’s only one thing for it. He has to be free to meet someone he can have a full relationship with, even if it kills me inside. I can’t hold him back from the happiness he deserves. I just hope we can stay friends.

  I toss and turn all night, missing him already. Ben’s scent is all over the sheets and I bury my face in them. The temptation to phone him or text him is overwhelming, but I have to be strong. I have to let him go. Let him get on with his life instead of wasting time trying to help me.

  At five a.m., I give up trying to sleep and get out of bed, wondering whether I should go to Ben’s self-defence class at the gym today. I’ve done so much work for it, I don’t want to miss it, but can I face him now? Still, we’ll have to see each other at the coffee shop tomorrow, anyway. Unless he hands in his notice, which is probably quite possible now. My stomach churns at the thought of never seeing him again.

  I write in my journal for a couple of hours. Then I get dressed in my gym gear and head for the class before I can change my mind.

  It’s almost about to start by the time I get there. Ben stands at the front of the class with his back to me, so
I sneak in and sit down, forcing a smile at some of the other women. A few of them check him out, mentally undressing him with their eyes. I’ve seen it before, plenty of times, and I’m not surprised. He’s amazing to look at; swarthy features, thick brown hair, mesmerizing eyes with lashes I’d die for, and a body to make any woman drool. But this time a twinge of jealousy tugs at my insides, because every other woman except me could sleep with him, and I just can’t go there.

  He grabs some body padding from the corner of the room and puts it on. It makes him look like the Michelin Man, but he’ll be the one getting hit today, so I guess he needs it.

  He must feel my eyes on him and glances over. He gives me a brief smile before addressing the class.

  ‘OK, ladies, I need a volunteer to help demonstrate some moves.’ Ben looks around, and the feisty elderly woman from the first week puts her hand up.

  ‘Uh-oh, I’m going to be in serious trouble, aren’t I?’ He beckons her up to the front of the class.

  She gives him a devilish grin and takes enthusiastic delight trying out the nut kicking, pulling, and twisting she wanted to do before. Luckily, she just has to mime the actions since she would severely damage poor Ben in that department otherwise. Everyone takes turns having a go, then Ben dons some protective headgear and we all try out head-butting moves on him. When it’s my turn, I can’t look him in the eye. I pretend it’s Theo there instead so I can practice the moves effectively without wanting to cry.

  The hours pass quickly, with Ben demonstrating how to get out of chokeholds, wrist holds, bear hugs, and being pinned to the ground. We progress quickly, practicing the moves loudly, throwing all our energy into blocking, defending, striking, and empowering ourselves to fight back against a would-be attacker. By end of the class, I’m exhilarated, my whole body tingling. I’ve mastered the art of protecting myself and think I could kick some serious butt now.

  As the women file out, I walk up to him, my heart pounding. I have to say something to clear the air, but I don’t know what.

  ‘That was amazing.’ I try to give him a smile but my lips twitch, which probably looks like I’ve got a nervous tick. ‘What you’re doing for those women is fantastic. Did you notice how confident they are now?’

  ‘Thanks.’ His gaze dances round the room, avoiding mine. ‘I didn’t think you’d come today, but I’m glad you didn’t miss out on the class.’

  I fold my arms in front of me. It’s better than having them hanging uselessly at my sides. ‘We…um…we can still be friends, can’t we?’

  ‘Friends.’ He nods slightly. ‘Of course.’ He looks at me then, his eyes searching my face. He gives me a wide smile that makes my stomach flip. ‘Look, I was thinking…maybe it’s a good idea if I don’t work at the coffee shop anymore.’

  Those words hit me so hard I can’t speak for a second.

  Breathe, Grace!

  ‘I don’t want to leave you in the lurch, or anything, so I can wait until you find a replacement, if you want.’

  ‘No, it’s OK. That’s…um…fine.’ I force a smile. What was I thinking? Of course he won’t want to work with me anymore.

  ‘Right, so, that’s settled.’ He starts clearing up the mats and stacking them in the corner, his back to me.

  ‘OK.’ I swallow hard. ‘See you then.’ I walk towards the doors.

  ‘Grace.’ His voice stops me in my tracks.

  I look over my shoulder, hand poised over the door handle.

  ‘If you ever need me, I’m here, OK?’

  My eyes water and I blink rapidly to clear them. ‘Thank you.’

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Ben

  I head out of the gym, and before I know where I’m going, I end up at our bistro. The place we’ve claimed as our Sunday hangout. Maybe I’m just torturing myself, being here without her, but I want to be somewhere that gives me good memories.

  I grab a local newspaper, sit at a table, and wait for someone to take my order as I scour the job adverts, trying to take my mind off Grace.

  ‘Hi. On your own today?’ the waitress, who’s now familiar, asks with a smile.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, what do you fancy?’ she gives me a flirty smile.

  My appetite’s vanished so I order an Early Grey tea.

  ‘Is that all?’ She raises her eyebrow suggestively.

  ‘Yes. Thanks.’ I turn back to the paper.

  One of the local pubs is advertising for a door man. It’s the kind of place where they won’t ask too many questions, but I can’t afford to get into any trouble. A factory is looking for a security guard, but it’s a big company who probably won’t hire someone with a criminal record. A courier company wants a delivery driver. A late night greasy spoon café wants someone to wash up and serve food a couple of nights a week from five p.m. until midnight.

  Great choice. I fold up the paper as my tea arrives.

  ‘Here you go.’ The waitress sets my tea in front of me. ‘Let me know if you need anything else.’ She winks and meanders through the customers to clear an empty table.

  The thought of sitting here without Grace is too much now. Her absence is like a chasm in my chest. I leave the tea on the table with some money and walk out, heading towards the café that’s hiring. No time like the present, I guess.

  The smell of fried food hits me as soon as I open the door, and I almost gag. The place is full with lorry drivers and workmen in overalls.

  I summon up a smile and head towards the counter. A guy in his late forties is taking orders, and there are a couple of guys in the queue ahead of me. I scan the menu while I wait. Fried breakfasts, chips, mugs of tea, bacon sandwiches. It’s a far cry from Grace’s coffee shop, but it’s not the calibre of place that will be bothered about my background.

  ‘Yes? What can I get you?’

  I’m so lost in a daze of thought I don’t realize he’s talking to me at first. ‘Oh, sorry. I’ve come about the job advert.’

  ‘Right.’ He looks me up and down. ‘Have you got any experience?’

  ‘In washing up?’ I ask, wondering who hasn’t.

  ‘Washing up, serving food, cleaning.’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been working at Imogen’s Coffee Shop for a while.’

  ‘Follow me.’ He beckons me behind the counter and we go through to the kitchen.

  A haggard-looking woman in a sweaty white T-shirt and jeans is busy frying up eggs and sausages. She looks up briefly then runs towards the toaster as it pops up. ‘All right, John?’ she asks him.

  ‘Yeah, Shirl.’ He turns to me. ‘This is my wife. She’s in charge of the kitchen.’

  ‘Hi.’ I smile.

  ‘Hi.’ She doesn’t look up as she butters the toast. ‘You here for the dogsbody job?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good, I need someone to help me out. Last girl left in a hurry and it gets bloody busy in here sometimes.’

  John points a finger to the sink stacked high with dirty dishes. ‘Sink.’ He points to a mop and bucket in the corner of the room sitting next to some bottles of detergent. ‘Mop.’ He nods towards an apron hanging up on a wall hook that probably used to be white but is now a greyish colour. ‘Apron.’

  A man of many words.

  ‘Pays minimum wage,’ he says.

  Shirl dishes up a plate of food and hurries through to the café.

  ‘Want the job?’

  ‘Er…yes.’

  ‘Want to start now?’

  I want to walk out of there and not look back, but this is my life now. This is all I can hope for. I have to get used to it. ‘Yes.’

  John pulls the apron off the hook and hands it to me. ‘Great.’ He walks back through to the counter to serve.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Grace

  I take the chocolate muffins out of the oven in the coffee shop and put them on a rack to cool. I put the mixing bowls and utensils in the dishwasher and spy a whole bag of sugar on the counter I forgot to add to the muffin mixture.
r />   ‘Shit!’ I glare at the sugar.

  How could I have forgotten one of the most important ingredients?

  Concentrate, Grace, you idiot!

  I dump the muffins in the bin, grab a bowl and start mixing up a new batch, trying not to think about Ben again. It’s been three weeks since I saw him at the class. Three weeks with an empty hole in my life. I’ve filled my time by going to the gym, hitting the punch bag and joining a yoga and meditation class. I read self-help therapy books from the library. Books I would never have had the courage to read all those months ago, before Ben taught me how to talk about the rape.

  Ben. I’m back to him again! Has he met someone else yet? Is he happy? Does he miss me like I miss him?

  I take my frustration out on the muffin batter, mixing it so hard my arm aches before pouring it out into new cake cups and sliding the baking tray in the oven.

  Keep busy. Don’t think.

  The shop is empty just before the lunchtime rush and a woman walks in. She looks a little familiar, but I can’t place her. She stands at the doorway, hesitating as she stares at me with frightened, hollow eyes surrounded by dark circles. Her long brown hair is a tangled mess. Her skin is deathly white, her distress almost tangible through the air.

  I move towards her and smile. Usually, I’d just ask someone what they want to drink, but with this woman I sense she’s not really here for coffee, so I say, ‘Are you OK?’

  Her eyes water. ‘Are you Grace?’ Her voice is a hoarse whisper.

  ‘Yes.’

  Her gaze flicks around the shop before coming back to me. ‘Can I talk to you in private?’

  I recognize something in her eyes and wonder if that’s why she seems familiar. It’s like my own face staring back at me from all those months ago. Then I remember her face. She’s the woman I saw walking down the street with Theo the night I had the panic attack. And I think I know why she’s here.