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

by Lexi Buchanan

  “I didn’t say good-bye because I never officially left Langley and neither have you.”

  “What?”

  “We’ve been recruited as semi-permanent contractors,” he clarified. “A mission unlike any you’ve ever done.”

  She shoved her purse aside and plopped down in the chair. “I’m listening.”

  “Usually, they bring a new member on slowly, but the schedule has been moved up, and you need to start ASAP.”

  “Why?” Zoe waited for Jason to answer, but he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Any harder, and he’d draw blood.

  He crossed the room and took her hand. “I don’t know. Whatever they’re planning goes beyond the peace treaty and stopping wars.”

  Here was her chance to do something important. What if the powers that be had made a mistake by choosing her? “They need people they can count on.”

  Jason smiled. “Yes, absolutely. Come on. Time to see what’s behind the curtain of the great and mysterious Oz.”

  Chapter Twelve

  In the Mason Room, Jason reached inside a desk drawer and pressed several switches then closed and locked the drawer again. Zoe returned from the restroom looking reenergized, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and makeup refreshed. Aside from the glow to her cheeks, no one would guess that they’d just had hot sex. Well, practically no one. His body responded to her instantly, his cock hardening again. But the adrenaline coursing through his veins was due more to anxiety than arousal. This was one mission he wasn’t looking forward to.

  “So how does this work?”

  “Follow me.” He led her behind the loose canvas wall hanging, into the narrow passage at the end of the room. This time, it was illuminated by a strip of fluorescent lights along the floor from the hidden switch in the desk.

  “Didn’t we almost get into trouble the last time we were in here?” she asked.

  “This hallway is next to another passageway that surrounds the Red Tape Room.” He slid open a hidden panel in the wall and pressed his hand against a palm scanner.

  “Do I have access to this room?” she asked.

  He nodded. “You will. All members of the FLC do.”

  She glanced at the added security but didn’t mention it. “Why is it called the Red Tape Room?”

  When the panel opened, they entered the narrow hall dimly lit in a red glow. Zoe eased by him, her body rubbing against him as she studied the long table of equipment, computers, servers and other electronics. He knew she hadn’t quite caught on yet. “What do you see? What’s your impression?”

  “A control room of sorts. Monitoring system? Seems like a lot of equipment for a few sex tapes. Unless there’s more.” Her eyes widened. “The president?”

  Jason shook his head.

  “The first lady?” She held her hand to her mouth.

  Jason shook his head but hesitated this time. The first lady was involved, but not like Zoe was thinking. “There’s more. This room has the potential for other uses. For now it’s being utilized for the Red Tape Room.” He took her arm and led her around a ninety-degree bend in the passage to more equipment and yet another turn. The U-shaped room was filled with electronic machinery. Jason slid open a panel in the wall. “Look through there and tell me what you see.”

  Zoe gasped. “It’s the Red Tape Room. These are cameras. How many?”

  “Six. Two on each of three walls.” He pressed a few keys on one of the computers, and a large plasma screen lit up and began playing a video.

  A woman, head bowed, was naked and leaning against that wooden cross. Six screens showed her from various angles. And the man was Jason—

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God. Someone was videotaping us? Who was watching?”

  “No one.” He fast-forwarded to them fucking on the bed. “It’s automated. I set the system up as a demo.”

  She punched him in the chest. “Turn it the fuck off,” she yelled over the noises coming from the video.

  “I don’t know,” he said as a tease. “I’m getting turned on again watching you on my cock. You have a nice ass.”

  Without warning, she slammed him against the wall, her hand gripped at his throat and her knee poised at the tender location between the base of his cock and his balls. One wrong move, and he’d be doubled over, puking his guts up. Never piss off a woman trained in martial arts.

  “Just a demo before I show you the real thing. Let me loose and I’ll delete it.”

  She released her hold and removed her knee from the permanent crippling position. “Screw it. You’ve taught me enough about computers. I’ll do it myself,” she snapped, glaring at him. Willful, confident, even a little arrogant were all good traits for a Dom or Domme, but Zoe was known to have a temper, and for this target she needed to be submissive. Once she learned what was at stake, she could handle it.

  “I would’ve done it.”

  She clicked a few keys. “Deleted. Now what else is in here?” The screen lit up again, and three people were in the Red Tape Room. Two women and a man. The man stood at the cross, arms and legs spread and strapped down. He was blindfolded. The two women beside him wore fetish clothing, black leather and heels, and their faces were covered in decorative, full-face Mardi Gras masks. One woman had a cane in her hand and tapped the end along his arms, legs, chest, abdomen and all around his groin. His dick was fully aroused and bobbed with each strike. Some hits were gentle taps and others sharp raps. The man cried out with each hit. She reached between his legs and prodded his balls, and the man groaned in pleasure and writhed, tugging against his restraints.

  “Who the hell is that? He’s not the same guy from the night we were in the closet.”

  “No, this is a different time and someone else. President Kasim Rutu. We had agents in Somalia months ago collecting intel that determined he had this particular sexual taste.”

  Zoe gripped his thigh as she continued to watch, mesmerized. The man in the video crunched up his face. “Mistress, I’m close to coming.”

  “Do not come, slave. I have not given you permission.” She smacked his cock with the end of the cane, and the man cried out. Zoe also cried out.

  “God, how can she do that?”

  “That’s his kink. He likes cock torture.” Jason was getting turned on by Zoe’s reaction. Did she realize her hand was rubbing his dick now? Lifting her blouse out of her pants, Jason slid his hand along her back. When she didn’t resist, he unhooked her bra. Her breath caught, and her hand rubbed his erection harder. This kinky stuff was turning her on. Maybe he was worrying for nothing.

  “And I thought the president or the first lady had a kinky side and that room was mainly for their private entertaining. I thought the blackmailing was their cover. You are serious. I can’t imagine the president using sex tapes for blackmail. What could he possibly gain?”

  Jason shook his head. “You have no idea what the FLC has accomplished over the years. President Rutu has a lot of contacts with known terrorist groups, but many global leaders would like to see Prime Minister Akram take over. He has good intentions for his people and opposes Rutu’s policies. This video will damage Rutu’s position if it’s revealed. He’ll do anything to keep that from happening.”

  “Like agreeing to specific foreign policies?” Zoe asked.

  “Or signing peace agreements.”

  “Wow. That could anger any ties he has with terrorist groups.”

  “True, and hopefully weaken or destroy them.”

  The woman stroked the man’s chest in a soothing manner. “How are you doing, slave? Ready for more?”

  “I’m fine, Mistress. Yes, please, more.”

  “I think you’ve earned a prize.” She removed the man’s blindfold and stroked his head. “I’m going to let you watch while I torture your cock.”

  Rutu leaned into her hand, and his breathing became faster, as if he’d run around a track. “Thank you, Mistress.” When the Domme smacked his ass with the cane, he yelped but moaned as he was enjoying it.
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  Zoe stopped massaging Jason’s cock. She didn’t take her eyes from the screen. “In the closet, I figured out who the women were. Melissa and the first lady. But the women in this video don’t look anything like them, even with their masks.”

  “It’s what they’re wearing, the angle of the camera, and technical skills.”

  She leaned back in the chair and sighed. “This is really perverted.”

  Jason shrugged. “Everyone has their own kink. Sex is a powerful manipulator.”

  “I suppose.” She stared at him for several heart-pounding moments, then dropped her hand to his crotch and massaged his hardened dick beneath the stiff denim material. Then her hand slid inside his pants, and her fingers wrapped around his shaft.

  Groaning, Jason reached out and grasped her breast. Her nipple was stone-hard. “I think you are getting aroused,” he teased, pinching her nipple.

  She jumped, but didn’t take her eyes off the screen. “Undo my blouse.”

  “Hmmm.” He did and grabbed both breasts. In the video, the woman had slid her corset down to reveal her breasts. The man smiled. Again, she tap-tapped him with the cane, harder and harder, until the man groaned and pleaded to come.

  “Now, slave. Come for your Mistress, now.” He groaned, and moments later a stream of fluid spurted from his cock.

  Abruptly, Jason stood, slid his pants down as he watched Zoe do the same, then rolled on a condom. She climbed over onto his lap.

  The groans of the man and woman mingled with their own. Zoe rocked on his cock, wild and rough, the way they both liked. It didn’t take long for her to reach her climax. She cried out, and he felt her inner muscles flex and grip him, sending him over the edge.

  After they caught their breath, Zoe giggled. “Kind of like getting turned on from watching a porno movie.”

  “Some porno movie.” He grabbed some tissues from a box sitting on a desk and wrapped them around the used condom. He handed a few tissues to Zoe. How were they going to get through training with this highly sexual atmosphere?

  “What are they going to do with the video? Money? Demand the return of hostages?” she asked as she freshened herself up with the tissue.

  “The primary purpose is to pass foreign policy in the US’s favor.”

  “Quite a risk. But very effective.” She didn’t flinch. She had switched to CIA mode. “How did they know he’d go for this?”

  “Intel. That’s what I was doing after I left Langley.”

  “This sounds more interesting than deciphering and digitizing top-secret documents.”

  He let out a breath. Thank God, this would be easier than he’d thought. “I’m glad you see the importance of this operation.”

  She nodded. “So when do we leave?” Her remark was calm and so Zoe—straightforward.

  “Leave where?” He thought he’d been obvious about what her new duties would be.

  “We’ll be leaving for an operation overseas to continue where you left off, collecting intel, right? Once they realize I’d be more effective in that part of the operation, they won’t make me do the sex tapes. I’m trained to gather intel. I could also work this equipment. What dignitaries will we be targeting?”

  Fuck. Not so easy. “Zoe, the intel has been gathered. And dignitaries are targeted.”

  “Then you need me to work the cameras, video?” Her voice went up an octave.

  “No.” He paused, letting the reality sink in.

  Her eyes widened in the dim red light. “No fucking way.”

  “Zoe, this is vital to national security. These peace treaties—”

  “No. I can’t do this. I’ve been trained to work undercover with weapons dealers, drug cartels, not play sex games. It’s not my skill set.”

  “You’ll be trained.”

  “I will not.” She laughed bitterly.

  “It’s no different than any other undercover operation. Perhaps a bit more creative.”

  “Forget it.” She kicked one of the stools in front of a computer. “Pull a prostitute off the street and train her. I won’t flog anyone’s ass or whip anyone’s cock to get them to sign some UN agreement. I refuse to give them pleasure in any way at my expense. Suppose it doesn’t work? Suppose I’m not a good enough actress?”

  “The First Lady’s Club only includes members with top-secret clearance. We need someone like you, and we don’t have time to bring in someone else.”

  “Then you’ll have to work with those you have.” She strode through the room and out the door, leaving Jason alone. He listened as her footsteps continued down toward the Mason Room, and a moment later he heard the door slam.

  That went well. At least she didn’t pull a gun.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Hello, Julia.” The redhead, Alana, strutted into the press secretary’s office early Monday morning, moving across the room as if walking down a Paris runway wearing the latest haute couture. She sat in the chair in front of Julia’s desk without an invitation. With one hand, she swooped her wavy, red hair around her neck and over one shoulder, so the strands fell well below one breast. Julia admired confident women, but not reckless ones, and Alana was one she had to keep an eye on.

  Alana rarely wore her hair up, unusual for most women working in the West Wing. Proper business fashion didn’t seem to occur to her. “I got the message it was urgent.” A wicked smile curved her glossy lips, and her sea-green eyes had that wild look, making Julia think, Serial killer.

  Mrs. Bryson insisted that Alana was the best at her particular skills. Of all the members of the First Lady’s Club, Alana MacKenna scared Julia. She was a brilliant, beautiful, charismatic attorney and much too arrogant. Alana’s no-fear attitude was a risk to the secret organization, and to Alana. One day they all might suffer for it.

  “You’re scheduled for a presentation tomorrow.” Julia glanced down at her notes, avoiding Alana’s eyes and prepared for the objection. Julia could tolerate her role in the FLC when she had plenty of time to prepare.

  “Tomorrow? Oh. I thought you were going to tell me tonight. Not so urgent then.” She sounded disappointed.

  Julia let it drop and continued, “President Turi Aleid from Chad has agreed to your established limits: no needles, no knives, no fire play, no permanent scars. He does want Prime Minister Miron Gerard present. Our intel says they’re lovers. Let me know now if you have a problem with that or any other hard limits.”

  “No problem.” Alana casually picked up the crystal, water globe paperweight sitting on Julia’s desk and shook it, then held it up to the sunlight coming in through the large window. She watched the bits of colored crystal drift down around the tiny Earth. “I have a high threshold of pain and don’t mind seeing small amounts of my blood as long as my partners are skilled and I trust them. Generally, I wouldn’t be opposed to knife play, but with these monsters, I don’t want some amateur slicing my arteries by mistake, or for the fun of it. Secret Service can’t move fast enough to stop a knife. And if I’m bound, I won’t be able to stop it, either.”

  “You won’t be bound. He will. He wants to play the submissive. I’m not sure what role his prime minister will be playing.”

  “Interesting.” Alana grinned, the evil side emerging. “We’ll work it out. Not unusual for a submissive to be their preference.”

  Julia didn’t quite understand. “I suppose. They get a break from making huge decisions, enormous responsibility. As a sub, they can let someone else take control. Can you imagine the stress these leaders go through?”

  Alana snorted. “Oh, I feel so sorry for them, all right, considering how they treat civilians, especially women. From what I hear, President Aleid doesn’t give a hoot about his people, only his own ass.” Alana crossed her legs and swung her red-heeled foot.

  Julia didn’t agree or disagree. That point wasn’t relevant. “Melissa will be in the room, Secret Service outside the door.” Julia paused. “I should tell you, our sources believe he murdered his wife.”

  Ala
na shook the globe again, not blinking an eye. “Motivation for my presentation, don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely. I like your enthusiasm. He’s been called a sadist.” Alana’s calmness chilled her. She had to make FLC members aware of the dangers.

  Alana laughed low in her throat. “That won’t be an issue since he’ll be bound.”

  “Our intel said he’s a masochist as well.”

  “That is interesting,” Alana said. “He likes giving and receiving pain. I’ll be sure to work him over good and keep sharp, shiny objects out of his reach.” A smile spread across her beautiful face. She looked manic, as if she was getting turned on by the prospect.

  Could a masochist also be a sadist? Julia rubbed her forehead. She never got this whole scene.

  “Headache, Julia? You should try a flogging. It’ll take your mind off the pain in your head.”

  “No, thanks. I prefer a couple acetaminophen.”

  “Anything else?” Alana asked. “I should get a few items together and make a plan for my session with Mr. Aleid.”

  “Yes, this man is living in one of the most volatile countries in the world. His friends and neighbors are terrorists, arms dealers and white-slave traffickers. Be careful. Don’t let your confidence get in the way of common sense. Don’t turn your back on him or let your guard down for a second.”

  Zoe stood in line in the small cafeteria, waiting for her second cup of coffee. Her lids were drooping from her lousy night’s sleep. Jason had tried calling and texting her for days, and she’d refused to answer. At first, she was surprised he hadn’t shown up at her office, but the first lady was busy with speaking events, and he was traveling with her. Zoe hadn’t handed in her resignation yet, hadn’t decided what to do. The idea of quitting, failing another mission, was making her physically ill.

  Jason had set her up in this insane program. What gave him the idea she’d be interested in that perverted plan? And the nerve of him not asking her first. These thoughts racked through her head over and over, a barricade that blocked a peaceful night’s sleep.