What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7)

by Lexi Buchanan

  “I can’t remember the last time you cooked breakfast for me.”

  “It was at my condo. It’s been awhile.” He brought the plates of food to her dining table in the next room.

  They sat down and began to eat. She sipped her coffee. “I assume you still live in the same condo in Chevy Chase?”

  He shook his head. “I have a place in McLean Gardens now.”

  Of course, McLean Gardens was pretty close to the White House, so maybe that was where he moved to be closer.

  The silence grew awkward between them. Then he reached across the table and touched the sleeve of her robe. He rubbed the peach silk between his fingers. “This is pretty. Were you wearing this last night?”

  She nodded. “You crashed. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “You should’ve.”

  “The eggs are good. Thanks.” She munched on the buttered toast. “We can shower quick, then go get my things. Are you working today?”

  “No, I’m off.”

  “Odd that we’re working together again.” She hadn’t thought about it much, considering all that had happened. But now that she did think of it, wasn’t it a bizarre coincidence?

  “I suppose,” he said. “Are we showering together?”

  “Maybe.” She leaned back in her chair and waited for his response. He didn’t say a word. “One good thing about not working at Langley anymore, we can tell each other where we’re going and talk about our jobs.”

  “To a degree. I’m not authorized to chat about certain aspects of my job.”

  Zoe stood up and got more coffee and more cream. She huffed. “I know that.” She topped off his mug with more coffee, splashing a little onto the table. She resisted the urge to clean it up. He used to tease her about her compulsive cleaning.

  After a minute she couldn’t stand the drips of coffee and grabbed napkins and soaked up the spill.

  She was sure he noticed, but he didn’t mention it. Dexter stood by the back door, his signal to be let out. Zoe opened the door for him.

  “Did I ruin your plans last night?” Jason asked.

  “My research project in the basement?” She sat back down and sipped at her coffee, unable to finish the rest of her breakfast.

  Her robe slid off one shoulder. He reached over and slid a finger beneath the lacy strap of her chemise. “Not what I meant. Did you have plans to make love?”

  “Perhaps. It was awfully late.”

  “We can manage now.” He smiled, and his gaze turned dark and sultry. The look was intoxicating, and her stomach gave a flutter. “I have a lot to make up to you.”

  She felt all hot and horny inside. Yes, she wanted him, and she probably could have him right there, but then what? He’d walk away again? “Promises, promises.” She smiled, but it was a bittersweet smile. She stood up and carried the dishes into the kitchen. Starting over brought up the uncertainty and fear of what would happen later.

  He followed. “It was damn hard leaving you,” he said. “I was afraid that if I didn’t, you’d be killed or tortured, or we both would.”

  “You don’t think I was a good agent?” She glared at him, arms crossed, wrapping the robe tightly around her.

  “You’re an excellent agent. Maybe a little too fearless at times, but smart, and you have nerves of steel.”

  “I think we worked well together. We had a couple of bad missions.” She touched his hand.

  “Don’t you want this?” The pain in his voice ripped a hole inside her.

  “I want you so damn much.” Her words choked in her throat. She forced a laugh to keep from crying. “Hell, we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other.”

  “Should we try?” He stepped closer, opening her robe and putting his arms around her waist. The heat of his touch blazed through the silky material. Her robe dropped to the floor as he pulled down one strap of her chemise and kissed her shoulder, his hot tongue drawing a slow circle to make her shiver.

  “I doubt it would do any good.” She explored his chest, feeling every muscle and curve. Forgoing the idea of going slow, she slipped her hand down his trousers and wrapped her fingers around his cock. He moaned and cupped her breasts. “I have condoms in my bedroom.”

  He shifted and dug into his pants and slammed a packet on the kitchen counter. “No need.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” She laughed.

  “Zoe, tell me what you want,” he said in a hoarse tone. He kissed her throat. She tensed, wanting to hide the scar, but he distracted her by rolling her nipple between his fingers. “Here, or the couch, your bed, or the shower?”

  With each new suggestion, his mouth moved from her throat to her breasts, her stomach. Then he drew down her panties and licked her cleft. The deeply intimate touch electrified all her senses and directed a rush of pleasure to her core.

  “I want it all.” She moaned and grabbed the counter behind her. His tongue rasped across her swollen bud, drawing exquisite shivers through her body. When he thrust his finger inside her channel, she cried out and thought she’d collapse. “God, Jason. Slow down or I’ll come.”

  He stood, licking his lips, and she reached for his zipper and yanked down his pants. His cock sprang free. Cupping his balls with one hand, she tightened her grip around his shaft with the other, then worked it up and down, tightening and releasing the pressure.

  “This was what I wanted to do to you in that closet.” She knelt down and took him into her mouth. He groaned and raised his hips, pumping them to match her rhythm.

  “Zoe, fuck, that’s good.” He grabbed her shoulders and lifted her up. “As much as I’d like you to continue, I have to get inside you.”

  Leaning into him, she kissed his arm. “The bedroom?”

  He opened the condom and slipped it on. “Do you think we can wait that long?”

  “No.”

  He lifted her up on the counter, spread her legs wide. Pressing the crown of his cock at her entrance, he tested her slick, hot opening. “Fuck me, Jason. Now.”

  He drove deep in one thrust to his root. She relished the melty sensation spinning within her core, her womb as he slid back and pumped into her again. “God, yes,” she cried out. Her legs hooked around his hips, urging him to pump faster, harder.

  One hand on the cabinet, Jason thrust his cock deep. Zoe’s ass kept bumping into the microwave, but she barely noticed. When he raised her legs, he found the perfect position. Immediately, she let go of the counter and grasped his arms. The coil of pleasure rose up deep inside her, and the most intense orgasm slammed into her. “Ahhhh.”

  Before the last spasm of sensation rushed through her, Jason groaned. “Ah fuck, I’m coming.” He threw back his head and closed his eyes. After his body and breathing calmed down, and she felt reality returning, they collapsed into each other’s arms. “That was amazing.”

  “Yes, very.” She rested her head on his shoulder, not wanting him to see her face. Yes, how quickly they fell back into their hot and heavy sex routine.

  Dexter scratched and whimpered at the back door.

  “Guess he wants in.” He stepped away from her and opened the door. Dexter rushed in and ran straight for his food dish.

  Jason got quiet, kept his eyes averted. Was it from making love or did he have something else on his mind? The distance grew between them, and she had no idea why.

  “Something wrong?” She tried keeping the edge out of her voice as she pulled the robe around herself and crossed her arms over her breasts.

  He smiled, a weak one at that. “No.” But he petted Dexter while he said it. “Ready for that shower? I have more to talk to you about once we get to the White House.”

  Chapter Eight

  Morning sunlight streamed through the massive Palladian window of the East Sitting Hall, filling the room with blinding white splendor. Melissa’s escort brought her to the entrance, announced her presence, and waited for the first lady to call Melissa inside.

  The escort, a middl
e-aged gentleman, gave her a nod to enter then left. Melissa stepped over the threshold. Her heart always quickened when entering this portion of the White House. It seemed intimate, private, as if she was intruding.

  “Please have a seat, Melissa,” Faith said. “Charlotte and I were just finishing some tea and scones. We’re planning the reception for next week. It will be a small event, just a few UN officials and the foreign delegates who’ll be in town that week. Small.” Faith gave Charlotte a pointed look.

  When Melissa’s eyes adjusted to the bright lighting, she froze as she realized “Charlotte” was Charlotte Ellison, first lady from the previous administration. Her husband had lost his re-election bid. Mrs. Ellison was now working at the United Nations.

  Melissa sat on a chair across from the two women everyone in the nation thought were enemies having a friendly cup of tea. At any moment, Melissa expected to see the gracious women, wearing perfectly pressed designer suits and exquisitely applied makeup and styled hair, attack each other like a couple of rabid poodles. Where was her whip when she needed it?

  “Would you like some tea?” Faith picked up the silver teapot and smiled.

  “Yes, please.” Melissa held up a dainty china teacup and saucer while Faith poured.

  Faith’s hand was steady, she noticed. She was accustomed to her new role as the head of the FLC, the First Lady’s Club.

  “This is a last-minute reception, and we want a friendly and warm atmosphere for these most”—she hesitated, searching for the proper or politically correct word—“cautious delegates when it comes to signing the peace treaty.”

  “Small reception,” Charlotte moaned in her stuffy Southern accent, as if Faith had no idea how to be a proper hostess. “Is there ever such a thing as a small reception in the White House?”

  “I know how you love a party, Charlotte, especially in big houses, but tensions are high, and I think it would be in poor taste to have a large gala.” Somehow, Melissa thought Faith was getting a dig in there. She sipped her tea, averting her gaze to the scones that looked heavenly.

  “Help yourself to a scone or tea sandwich, dear,” Charlotte offered.

  Faith shot her a look, then quickly ignored the woman’s overstep in playing hostess. “I think we have everything covered. I’ll contact the caterers and give them a head count. No media will be allowed either.” When Charlotte opened her mouth to protest, Faith calmly glanced at her, daring her to argue.

  The woman had enough sense to know how far to push. “I understand. Small, low-key, warm, friendly and boring reception.” She sighed then smiled in a kind manner. “Anything to put the delegates at ease and get them to sign.” She stood up to leave.

  Faith also stood. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “No, no, I know my way.” She smiled. “Have your meeting with your assistant.”

  The edge in her voice made Melissa wonder if Charlotte had guessed what type of assistant she was.

  After Charlotte left, Faith walked across the room and gazed out the window. She took in a deep breath. “I do believe the East Sitting Hall is my favorite room in the White House.”

  “It is a beautiful room,” Melissa agreed. “The lighting is perfect for the Monet.” She picked up her teacup, took a sip and frowned. The tea was cold.

  “Since the last administration didn’t utilize the FLC, we have a lot of work to do,” Faith said.

  “Mrs. Ellison was opposed to the FLC?”

  “She didn’t agree with its philosophy,” Faith stated. “If we succeed with the treaty, we can move on to other projects. This reception might allow us to line up a few more targets. The intel has been gathered. We need to make the offers.”

  “Let me know if I can help.”

  “You’ll be attending the reception.”

  “Of course.” Melissa bit down on a scone and washed it down with some cold tea. “Do you think the tapes were acceptable?”

  “That was nice work last night.”

  Melissa sighed. “I’m glad to hear. When will we know?”

  “He’s having his key meeting this morning. The president was happy with the results of last night.” Faith smiled. Clearly, she enjoyed going over the details of the Red Tape Room’s presentation with her husband.

  Melissa had heard the sex tapes were an aphrodisiac between Faith and the president. An added benefit of the FLC. She hadn’t expected to make porno flicks for the president. She so didn’t want to go there. If her encounters were successful for manipulating foreign policy, that’s what mattered.

  “With any luck,” Faith said, “there might be a press conference this afternoon with some good news.”

  Melissa wondered if Faith was turned on by her participation, her Domme outfit, the complete scene or the potential outcome from it. Or even by the knowledge that the video would turn her husband on later. Men of power got a sexual rush when placed in a position of power. They couldn’t deny it. And women from all walks of life were drawn to powerful men. This was why the FLC worked so well. This was why Faith had said she was able to persuade President Bryson to allow her to initiate the FLC.

  “May I ask a question, ma’am?”

  “Of course.”

  She lowered her voice. “How does President Bryson feel about the FLC’s attempts to influence the delegates’ signatures?” Melissa wasn’t sure if she stepped over her bounds but figured Faith would tell her.

  “If he has an opinion, he doesn’t tell me. The FLC was designed so that the president knows very little and limits his participation for one very good reason.” She paused for a moment. “Plausible deniability.”

  “I see.”

  The first lady frowned. “I anticipate after the reception we’ll be quite busy for a few weeks. We’ll need to stay in touch and plan very unique scenes. Some may be difficult for you and Alana, but you know what’s at stake.”

  The first lady couldn’t have gotten more than three or four hours of sleep, but Melissa couldn’t tell. “We can handle it. When I worked as a professional, I catered to a number of well-known men and women who had very distinct tastes. And the ones who requested the most intense scenes were politicians, CEOs, and pilots. Those who are in a constant state of control desire giving up control completely and get a sexual rush from it.”

  “And what about Alana? How is she doing?” Faith asked.

  Melissa didn’t say what she really thought. Alana liked her job a little too much. “She’s well-versed in a variety of fetishes and kinks. I’m sure we won’t have a problem meeting the target’s needs.”

  “Good.” Faith picked up a china plate. “Help yourself to another scone or tea sandwich. The scones were made by our chef.”

  “No, thank you.” Melissa had lost her appetite. After the reception, they’d be running a marathon in the Red Tape Room. “So many countries are opposed to the treaty. I hope this works.”

  Faith gave Melissa a sharp look. “Don’t doubt the effectiveness of the FLC. Powerful men have excessive sex drives. Our targets have been thoroughly researched for their specific needs.”

  Melissa put her teacup down and picked up a napkin, crumpling it in a ball. “I’m sure we’ll all do our best, ma’am.”

  Faith laughed and leaned back in her chair, munching on a crab tea sandwich. “My dear, haven’t you realized the power of the FLC yet? Many of the countries on our target list are religiously structured, male-oriented societies. Over the years, some have made great strides for their people and their cultures. Then a new president steps in with a conflicting agenda and threatens the stability of the country and its people. Terrorists take advantage of the instability. Many times, these leaders feel making deals with the devil is their only or preferred option.”

  Melissa nodded politely. Obviously, the world’s situation was much more complicated than that, but Faith was explaining it in terms that a fifth-grader might understand.

  The first lady took a breath. “It could take months for the United Nations and members of the Security
Council to explain the dynamics. The point is, we’re not going to get this treaty signed without a little push.”

  “I understand that.”

  “When I showed the president from Afghanistan the taped session with Alana, the man was terrified. I had to call in medical personnel because I feared he’d have a heart attack. Not only did he agree to sign the peace treaty, he got on his knees and begged to sign and pleaded to have the tape destroyed. If his country’s officials saw that tape, a swift divorce or losing his position would have been the least of his worries. Keeping a few precious body parts was his main concern. He asked to sign right away.”

  Melissa folded her hands on her lap, hiding the crumpled napkin. “I hadn’t realized how effective the tapes are. Sex scandals happen all the time in this country. It causes bad press, occasionally people lose their jobs and/or get divorced, but for the most part, the public doesn’t care.”

  “A sex scandal with a foreign official with particular cultural and religious beliefs could be devastating. That’s a powerful secret weapon.”

  “Exactly. Which brings me to why I brought you here today.” Faith put her teacup down and crossed her arms, giving Melissa a serious first lady’s expression. “There are horrible things the American public doesn’t know. The violence is even worse than is shown in the news. In Iran, especially, atrocious things are being done to our soldiers. Their bodies, or what’s left of them, are being hung along the borders as a warning.”

  Melissa covered her mouth with her hands. She knew the fighting was violent, but she’d had no idea how violent. The taste of bile reached her throat. “That’s awful.”

  “I have a list of potential candidates. It’s time we get our new member on board. I’ll notify Julia. The president is calling a final meeting of foreign advisers in a matter of weeks. This is the last effort to push the treaty through. My sources tell me we have a few possibilities who can be swayed through the FLC. We must finish before that meeting. How is Zoe doing with her training? We need to have her ready as soon as possible.”

  Melissa kept her expression neutral. “I’ll check with Jason, see if he needs any help. Since she’s not been involved in that lifestyle, training her to be a Domme could take awhile,” she warned.