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

by Selena Kitt

  It takes me a minute to gather my thoughts and look around. Everyone else also appears to be taken by complete surprise, possibly not in a good way.

  Gary pats John on the shoulder and after saying something inevitably managerial and encouraging, turns and leaves again. John meanwhile is just staring in my direction. I don’t think he took his eyes off me even for a moment while Gary was talking.

  He comes over and I immediately get up.

  “Oh wow, congratulations!” I sound hysterical.

  “Thanks, I don’t really believe this has actually happened yet,” he says.

  “No, I can imagine! Damn.”

  “Actually I’m quite nervous, they all hate me I think,” he nods over discretely at the girls who are busy gossiping amongst themselves.

  “They’ll get used to it! At least you’re not a pervert; that should count for something.” I grin.

  “Seriously though, you’re really good at what you do. Everyone knows that,” I say.

  “Thanks.” He straightens himself and looks towards Dick’s old office. “I guess I better get settled in and make myself useful in there.”

  “Sure. I’m so happy for you though. We should totally celebrate tonight!”

  He makes his way to the office and I go back to my seat. Wow…

  It takes me a whole 10 minutes to fight the daze that has come over me. Who would’ve thought. And then an unpleasant realisation forms in my mind. If he’s now my boss, and we’re dating…

  How on earth will we ever fight the perception of impropriety that will inevitably crop up? Shit, I need a new job. Or at least an internal transfer, but I’ve no idea how to wing that.

  Even good news doesn’t make life simpler. I sigh and lean back into my chair and turn my thoughts to possible evening plans. Perhaps he’d like to go out, even if the way he was looking at me suggested he’d much rather just stay in.

  For the rest of the afternoon, I do my best to be or at least look productive. Before nerves had gotten in the way, now at least I know what’s going on. Time still passes slowly though.

  At 5 sharp, everyone gets ready to leave. While Dick was in charge, a few of the girls would routinely stay late. I can no longer be sure whether they wanted to impress him by doing extra work or stayed back for other reasons. The thought makes me sick.

  I look back at his old office, John is standing in the opening. I wonder for how long he’s been looking at me. After switching off my PC, I gather my things and join him.

  He’s smiling. He looks so sweet when he smiles.

  We move inside the office, which despite the wonky door still affords enough privacy. He places his hand on my waist and pulls me nearer to him. I rest my face against his chest and close my eyes. Being apart all day was hard, I missed him so much.

  Butterflies, not just in my stomach but everywhere else inside of me too. Then paranoia gets the better of me and I suspiciously eye the door.

  “Does Gary know?” I ask.

  “Know what?”

  “About us, being together?” I say.

  “He seemed to be aware, but we didn’t discuss it as such,” John says.

  “I think I should quit.” I look up at him, he’s no longer smiling and removes his hand from the small of my back.

  “Why on earth would you want to do that?”

  “Because now you’re my boss and no matter what happens, there will always be the suspicion that I’m getting preferential treatment,” I say.

  He thinks for a bit and his expression softens.

  “I suppose. It all happened so quickly, I hadn’t considered that.”

  “I’ll really miss seeing you all day. But this is just too important,” I say.

  “I’d miss you too. Let’s try and think of a solution.”

  He takes my face in his hands and leans down, kissing me gently on my lips. Funny, how such a simple gesture can turn my knees to jelly.

  “By the way, last night, you were talking in your sleep,” he says.

  “Was I?” I feel my cheeks burning up and avoid his gaze.

  “Well, technically you just said one thing.”

  I swallow, hard. Now that he mentions it, I do have a vague recollection of last night. It felt like it had been part of a dream, apparently not.

  When I force myself to look back up, he’s smiling again. Warmth and tenderness in his eyes.

  “I meant it,” I whisper.

  “I didn’t respond then, but…” He takes a deep breath.

  “I love you too.”

  Part IV.

  I.

  “I love you too,” John says.

  I’m speechless. And if he wasn’t still holding on to me, I might have lost my balance. He loves me. I may have been half asleep when I said it last night, but he heard me and didn’t sweep it under the rug.

  He didn’t run.

  Of course all of this is happening way too quickly. How can we be sure about this yet, after such a short time? But it feels right.

  He kisses me again and I cling on to him, both arms wrapped tightly around his neck. It’s blissful and I forget where we are. All that matters is how his lips and tongue fit mine and his arms keep me steady. I’m so happy my heart might just explode.

  “You’re perfect, you know that,” I whisper.

  He just smiles and shakes his head. I can’t tear my eyes off him, he is.

  This near-dream state I find myself in doesn’t last. There’s a knock on the door and we let go of each other immediately and attempt to look casual.

  “Yes?” John says.

  Gary walks in, by now I’m sure he must know. He looks first at him, then at me, but his face doesn’t betray his surprise, if there is any.

  “Good, you’re still here,” Gary says, “It has come to my attention that Richard had arranged to attend an electronics show in Munich this week, all the big suppliers will be in attendance. Obviously he’s no longer going…”

  “Right.” John straightens himself and waits for Gary to continue.

  “It would be great if you could, though I appreciate it’s short notice. Your flight would leave in the morning. I’ll have the booking details sent to you.”

  “Sure, no problem,” John gives me a quick look before facing Gary again.

  “Brilliant, you’ll be getting an email shortly.” Gary’s professional facade slips momentarily when a smile forms on his lips. “Carry on.”

  When he’s out the door John turns to me again.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he says.

  “Of course not.” I smile even if I know I’ll miss him.

  “So, how would you like to celebrate your promotion?” I ask.

  We decide on a French restaurant only a short walk away. I wonder if he suggested it to impress me or if he truly likes fine dining. Since it’s still too early to eat, we escape the frosty December weather by heading into the nearest pub.

  It’s still quiet, at barely 6pm and there are plenty of seats available. John insists on getting the drinks while I make myself comfortable on a brown leather sofa so big it looks as though it might swallow me whole.

  “What would you like?” he asks.

  “Cider, Magners or whatever they’ve got. With ice,” I say.

  It’s a nice place, very cosy and old fashioned without looking too ages. Every prop, picture and item of furniture is different yet in keeping with the overall style. As if someone put a lot of thought into making the decor appear random and eclectic.

  Even the barman looks like he’s from another era, reminding me strangely of René from ’Allo ’Allo. They have a little chat, John and René’s doppelganger, suggesting they know each other. The barman gives me a little nod and continues to chat a little. John smiles and glances in my direction before picking up our drinks.

  “Here you are,” John says, handing me my pint glass and bottle.

  “What are you having?” I ask.

  “It’s from this local micro brewery, this is the only place th
at sells it.” He sits down next to me and shows me the label on the pint glass.

  I’m not sure why, but I find it charming that he likes obscure beer labels nobody will have ever heard of. Seems like the type of thing I would go for, if only I liked beer.

  “So, do you come here often?” I wink at John.

  He dramatically throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes.

  “Does that line ever work? Honestly?”

  We laugh and clink our glasses together.

  “Cheers,” I say.

  “Cheesy pick-up lines aside, I was asking because firstly I have no idea how you like to spend your spare time and secondly because the barman seems to know you.”

  “Yeah I do come in here sometimes, maybe a bit too often lately,” he says.

  He looks absent minded, sliding his pint glass back and forth a few times on the table, the bottom of the glass leaves a wet swish on the well-worn wood surface.

  “I’d been wondering about that. Actually I’ve been worried about you,” It’s all I dare say, not wanting to sound like a nag.

  “Yeah, I noticed. Obviously I didn’t understand why you’d care before…” He doesn’t look or sound annoyed, thankfully.

  I decide to let the topic go.

  After taking a sip, he puts the glass back down on the table and I follow his example. I scoot closer to him, nudging at his arm. He gets the hint straightaway and puts it around me. The subtle smile playing on his lips tells me he’s not awkward at all about being obnoxious and sticky in public. Good.

  “I can tell you this much, it’s a lot more fun having you here with me,” he says.

  His phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket to check. The flight and hotel booking for his trip. I bite my tongue and don’t let on that the prospect of his absence, however short, makes me a bit sad. When the hell did I get so clingy!

  “Looks like I’ll be leaving depressingly early.” He shows me the phone, his flight leaves at 7am and the airport is a good hour away by car.

  When he puts the phone away, he looks over at me in that special manner of his. So warm, there’s also a hint of wonder in his eyes.

  “When will you be coming back?” I ask.

  “Saturday morning.”

  I sigh and take another sip. The cider is absolutely freezing with the ice in it, a fairly stupid choice of drink in this season now that I think of it. He notices me shiver and pulls me closer against him which somehow seems to make everything better.

  We get chatting about all sorts, movies mostly. It is quickly decided that we’re going to see The Hobbit together the moment it hits the cinemas.

  Another plan is made as well. The Lord of the Rings – which of course we both own Blu-ray copies of – shall be watched, start to finish, back-to-back in preparation. This weekend.

  It’s an exciting prospect, for two Tolkien geeks such as ourselves. A suitable reward for having to spend three days apart, when all we really want to do is live and breathe each other.

  Our glasses empty and it’s closing in on 7 pm. We decide to head to the restaurant for our well-deserved meal.

  Another quaint little establishment, the restaurant is possibly even more charming than the pub. They seat us at a little table for two by the window, amongst the dozen or so others that are either already occupied or reserved.

  I had no idea such a place existed just minutes away from work. But then again, I haven’t really made an effort to check out the local restaurants.

  There is no joy in eating out alone, at least not for me. I crave company to share bites of food with, to laugh with and on this occasion, to help choose the wine. Even if foreign food doesn’t phase me, I know nothing about wine.

  John is in his element, his cheerfulness infectious. He studies the wine list and suggests various options to complement our dishes of choice but I let him have the last word. We’ll share a bottle, I wasn’t really paying attention to the name, but I gather it’s red.

  I simply cannot stop looking at him from across the table as he confidently gives the waiter our order. As if he’s been waiting a long time for the opportunity to bring someone here.

  “This is a lovely place,” I remark.

  “Only with you in it,” he says.

  I blush and awkwardly glance away. He’s seems to enjoy making me shy.

  Under the table, I carefully slip out of my pumps. It’s his turn to blush when my foot finds his ankle and calf, softly caressing him inside his trouser leg. I wish we had more privacy, I could think of all sorts of interesting ways to pass the time until our food arrives.

  Taking a sip of wine, which truly is lovely thanks to his expert choice, I glance at him. He’s leaning forward a bit with his chin resting against his hand and just stares. Carefully observing every move I make, he does not react to the little smile I can’t suppress.

  I let my foot travel upwards. His brooding gaze is interrupted when his eyes involuntarily snap shut upon my reaching his knee.

  Considering his flight leaves early and he’ll undoubtedly have to pack, we might not get any alone time today after dinner. But that does not discourage me; he’s made me wait for it before, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up over the weekend.

  The waiter arrives with our entrée, scallops for me and Foie Gras for him. Beautifully presented as one would expect, the food tastes perfect and its arrival has broken the tension between us a little.

  “You’ll have to tell me how come you know so much about wine,” I remark, before putting the glass back down on the table.

  “Oh, my mum, she likes to think of herself as middle class. She would organise these dinner parties pretty much every month. The right kind of food, perfect presentation, supposedly posh guests and of course expensive wine.” He shrugs.

  “It was all a bit much if you ask me, but I suppose the wine knowledge stuck.”

  I take a bite, enjoying how the perfectly cooked scallop almost melts on my mouth.

  “Oh wow, the food here truly is amazing,” I say.

  John smiles and offers me his plate for a taste. Both dishes are very impressive and it does not take long before we’ve practically cleaned our plates.

  I excuse myself as we wait for the main course, I don’t really need to freshen up, but it’s a plausible justification.

  My return to our table is timed perfectly and there are no onlookers really when I appear next to John again. Bending down, I discreetly deposit the contents of my hand into his trouser pocket.

  “I thought perhaps you’d like to carry a little something of mine with you to Germany,” I whisper in his ear, before sitting back down.

  He slips his hand into his pocket. His confused expression immediately changes once his fingers brush past the soft lacey texture of my discarded thong. Before he’s able to say a word, the waiter arrives with the main course.

  As expected after the promising starters, the food does not disappoint. My enjoyment is heightened by his stares which have become even more intense now that I’m panty-less. Clearly he is having a hard time keeping calm and has given up on small talk completely.

  He cuts off the waiter who asks about a dessert or cheese order and instead just orders the bill.

  Once we get our coats and make our way into the windy, gloomy outdoors, he pulls me close with his arm around my shoulder until his lips almost touch my earlobe.

  II.

  “It’s a risky thing, to keep on pushing me like that,” I tell Cath.

  “Oh yeah? What am I risking?” She’s taunting me. I kind of like it.

  “For one, you might’ve had to go to bed hungry.”

  “There is no way you’d allow me to remain hungry in bed,” she says.

  She’s right.

  I’m fed up with holding back until she takes initiative. If all her teasing suggests what I think it does, she’s eager for me to step up. No more being shy.

  I need to get home and prepare for an early start tomorrow, I know that. She knows it too. B
ut here we are, walking through the cold empty streets which are only lit up by the occasional streetlight. And she has no knickers on. I seize the opportunity upon noticing an alley with a few unused, sheltered doorways along both sides.

  She lets out a surprised shriek when I spin her around into the alley and pin her against a flaky wooden door which looks like it hasn’t been opened in decades. When I kiss her, she does not protest. One might think she’s been waiting for exactly this.

  I press up against her, encouraged by her hands which furiously fight the buttons on my coat and slip inside. She squeezes the flesh over my sides, tugs at me to come nearer and sends me into a frenzy of lust. Of course she wants this as much as I do.

  When she let her foot travel over my legs, softly caressing me under the table earlier, that’s when I had started to get hard. Not only has my cock developed a mind of its own now, I’ve become super aware to the slightest bit of attention from her. I was done for after her short trip to the ladies’ room.

  My hands roam her body. I’m a slave to her, helplessly enchanted by the curves of her hourglass figure. How her waist dips in just enough for my hand to find a perfect spot to rest above her lush hips. Those eyes that I know to be a funny blue-green but which just seem black in this light. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

  I squeeze her thigh through the loosely fitted knee length skirt she’s wearing today. It’s not as suggestive as some of the other outfits that I’ve seen her in, but that doesn’t disguise her appeal.

  She moans in my ear and tilts her hips in my direction. Her hands are warm against my back, taking their time to work through every tense muscle on their way down. Then she grabs my ass, hard. I’m surprised how good it feels.

  “Cath, I need you…” I groan.

  She lets go on one side and brings her hand forward, exploring the contours of my aching erection through my trouser. It’s almost too much but I’m just about able to fight back the fogginess that threatens to cloud my mind.