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

by Lexi Buchanan

  “A girl can dream. I definitely missed you and I’ve had a crappy week.” She straddles my hips and begins sucking on my lips. Make-outs aren’t my thing, yet making out with Trini is always hot and steamy. We are completely breathless by the time she pulls away. She pulls my pants off and trails her fingertip down my length, causing my cock to twitch beneath her touch.

  “Commando?” she asks with a smirk.

  “A guy can dream.”

  Trini straddles my waist and slowly rubs against me causing me to lose all conscious thoughts.

  “Oh god…”

  Pulling her pierced nipple in between my lips elicits her own moans. The more I suck, the more she rubs.

  “Trin, you’re torturing me.”

  Smiling deviously, she quickly kisses my lips and turns her body so she is now straddling my chest, but facing the other way. Trini loves having oral sex almost more than regular sex. It’s her thing.

  This is gonna be fun.

  She bends her body until her ass is in my face. Tracing her tattoo on her lower back with my tongue, she responds by wrapping her lips around my cock.

  “Oh fuck…” I am wound so tight, and I am so ready, it’s going to take every conscious thought and effort not to explode too quickly.

  Trying to focus on her, I move the red strap of her thingy over to slip a finger inside simultaneously pulling her between my lips. She moans so deeply that I can feel the vibrations through her mouth around my erection. She enthusiastically does her part as I try to do mine.

  Until a quick flash of Leila’s face halts my efforts.

  Fuck…not again.

  Because of the lack of oxygen to my brain and the visual in my head, it’s almost impossible for me to concentrate on pleasuring Trini. Her mouth, all the beer I consumed, the fact she worked me up to frenzy before we even hit her bed, Leila’s face in my thoughts, all of it culminates and I release with a very violent orgasm all too soon.

  Throwing my head back, I grunt, “Oh, fuck.”

  She doesn’t stop until the last shudder leaves my body. I can feel her smile against me, as I lay lifeless and try to regain my senses.

  Trini attempts to turn around, but I grip her hips immobilizing her so I can finish what I started. This prompts her to continue her oral skills on me in a leisurely manner, bringing the blood flow right back to my flaccid dick.

  Wanting to return the favor, I keep my eyes open, not wanting to picture anyone but Trini at the moment. She deserves an orgasm. More importantly she deserves my focus.

  I tug her other piercing between my lips as she gasps around my cock. Soon after my lips, mouth, tongue and fingers bring her to the brink, her legs start to shake from her own orgasm that rolls on and on.

  Collapsing on me, Trini pants trying to catch her breath. Neither of us moves for the longest time. Guiltily, I welcome the interruption so I can process what the hell is going on inside my demented head. I suddenly feel exhausted.

  Trini slowly turns and stretches leisurely on top of my body, pulling me from my thoughts. “MMMMmmm…that felt so good.”

  Having a hard time keeping my eyes open, I think I nod, but I can’t be too sure. Trini kisses me erotically to capture my attention. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  She moves to her nightstand to retrieve a condom and rolls it on me, as I desperately try fighting sleep. Since my cock has a mind of his own, her hand on me stirs him up even though I’m still extremely dazed and confused.

  “I hope I can do this.” I mumble and she giggles.

  With her panties still on, she straddles me and says, “I have faith in you, Jack.”

  She’s good. It’s a short while later when she has me wide-awake and on the brink again. I grab her hips and flip her onto her back. She arches and I thrust hard and fast and Trini keeps pace. It’s quick and effective. She climaxes first and I follow soon after.

  As we are lying on our backs and panting side-by-side, she purrs, “So good, Jack.”

  I nod and focus on a spot on her ceiling. Suddenly I want to leave. It’s not Trini. It’s me. I’m coming off my buzz and I’m really, really tired and really confused.

  “Do you want a beer?”

  “Do you have a coke? I’d rather that.” I remove my condom and drop it gently to the floor.

  “You got it.” She hops off the bed, picks up the condom and disappears into her kitchen.

  “Trin, I would have thrown that out.”

  “No worries.” She calls out.

  My mind starts to wander to Leila again as I’m lying here waiting for my coke. I wonder what she is doing right now. Is she kinky? Is she strictly missionary? Why am I thinking of Leila again, anyway?

  Trini returns and hands me my coke as I continue to stare into space. “Hey, where did you go off to?”

  I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer. “Just a lot on mind, sorry.” She turns on her side and examines my face.

  “Spill it, Lair. I’ve known you for a long time. The Jack I know would be taking me from behind right now and not lying here thinking.”

  I turn on my side to face her.

  How do I explain something, when I don’t even know what’s happening myself? How do I explain I keep thinking about a girl who I barely know, and I have no idea why I keep thinking about her? How do I explain to Trini that I’ve pictured Leila’s face now during sex with two different women, including with her?

  I know I can tell Trini because this is just the kind of relationship we have. There have been many times after we screwed each other’s brains out, that she would unleash her latest guy problems on me. She has been pining over this asshole at the bar for months and the idiot isn’t biting. I told her he was probably gay.

  But what the hell am I admitting to? Damn it…I have no idea what this is.

  “Well?”

  Maybe voicing my bewildered thoughts will help me understand them better?

  Taking a deep breath, I lie on my back and stare up at the spot on the ceiling again. “We wanted to hire a new back-up singer. The girl we decided on is fantastic. She is so fucking talented. She is reviewing the contract as we speak, and we hope to God she accepts our offer. Her name is Leila and she is beautiful.” I turn on my side again and look into my friend’s eyes. There is no judgment there, just concern.

  “Trin, I can’t stop thinking about her. I barely know her, but there is something about her. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”

  She continues to look at me. “Does she know how you feel?”

  I scoff, “Feel? We hardly know each other. There’s no feel? I just keep thinking about her.”

  “You’re attracted to her…so?”

  I push my hand through my hair. I’ve been attracted to women before, and have never spent even thirty seconds thinking about them. It’s not just an attraction with Leila. I really don’t know what it is.

  “So? So we have to work together.”

  “If she gets you all hot and bothered, come see me. I’ll help you.” She deadpans and I smile weakly.

  “Nothing? Huh, now I’m worried.” Settling in the nook of my arm she adds, “Stop stressing. Once you get to know her you may hate her.”

  Sighing I nod, not feeling all that confident in Trini’s words of wisdom to me. Truth is, the more I get to know her, the more I want her.

  Chapter Five

  Leila

  The same contract that gave me complete joy yesterday is now causing me to sweat under my boobs. There is a section that details the possibility of having companions in our bunks. They can travel with the band as long as the rest of the members are okay with it. So I get to say yay or nay to Trey’s indiscretions? Yeah, I don’t think so. I’d rather walk on hot coals.

  On the flip side, they would have the same rights over me. I’m sure that will not be a problem, as I don’t sleep around or plan to. But what if I meet “the one”? What if he is head over heels in love with me and can’t be apart from me for even one minute? Thos
e guys get to toss him off the bus if they want to? That might suck.

  My phone rings as I’m sitting here staring at the stack of papers as if they would explain themselves to me and jolts me back to my apartment. My heart starts pounding like a drum from the ringtone that is playing loud and clear. When I saved Jack’s phone number into my phone, I assigned a song called Tie Me Down. It’s a very sexually explicit song. I thought it was apropos and the perfect choice. I can NEVER have him hear it or know about it!

  Carefully monitoring my breathing, I answer, “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Jack. How are you?” His tone is too cheerful.

  “Hi Jack. I’m great. A bit overwhelmed, but great. What’s up?”

  “Just checking in to make sure you don’t have any questions.” He did tell me to call him if I had questions or concerns. The fact that he is calling me first tells me that he’s thinking about me. This pathetically puts a firm smile on my face.

  “Well I have tons of questions, but none that you can really answer.” I laugh to show him I am kidding, sort of. How can I tell him that I’m concerned with where I’ll be storing my tampons on the bus?

  “Are you sure? I am more than happy to help.”

  Oh boy…he has no idea how much I would like him to help.

  “Well I am putting together a list for my lawyer. Once I review with him, I’ll call you with any other questions he can’t answer. Is that ok?”

  “Sure Leila, that’s fine. Whatever you need. But I just wanted to let you know I meant it when I said I’m here for you if you have any concerns and or questions. This can be a bit daunting, but I want to remind you how talented you are. This is going to be great, for all of us.” He pauses and I’m too moved to respond.

  He chuckles at my silence, and says, “Well, have a great day. I hope to hear from you soon.”

  I finally respond lamely, “Ok, thanks. Bye, Jack.” He promptly hangs up and it takes me a few minutes to wake up from my daydream.

  As a distraction, I decide to call my dad to discuss what time we were meeting for dinner tomorrow. I was going to bring the contract with me, but decided against it. I don’t want to freak him out unnecessarily, and I know he will be tormented from just hearing the details. By the time we meet, I would have seen the lawyer and maybe I would have some intelligible information I could relay to my father. Not sure it matters, short of telling him I’ve changed my mind, there really is nothing I could say to alleviate his stress.

  I already made an appointment with an attorney that Evan’s mom, Barb, recommended. I immediately called her when I realized I needed one. We are set to sit down tomorrow morning at his offices in Fort Lee. His name is Mr. Morrow, and Barb said he is a good lawyer and would help me with anything I needed. He asked if could have the contract picked up today, so he would be able to review it before our meeting.

  Barb is a very sweet, kind person. I have never met Evan’s dad, Doug. He took off when Evan was a baby, and never speaks to him. Barb raised Evan alone and still lives in the house where he grew up, one block away from my dad.

  There was a time a few years ago I thought of my dad and Barb together. She is attractive enough, in a motherly kind of way. She is neither skinny nor overweight. Her strawberry blond hair is cut into a stylish bob, and she has very nice blue eyes. They crinkle in the corners when she smiles and light up her whole face.

  Dad and Barb have been friends for a long time, both having grown up in Cliffside. He doesn’t elaborate on details of their friendship. I don’t have any memories of Barb or Doug being friends with my parents. Dad did say Barb and Mom were friends, but they were not BFF’s. I thought that was strange. With Barb being such a warm friendly person, I would’ve assumed that she and my mom got along perfectly. Apparently Dad didn’t care for Doug at all, and had no desires to socialize with him.

  I asked my dad why I didn’t know Evan earlier than when I met him in school. It seems that the lives of our parents were somewhat intermingled. Dad explained that he and Mom avoided them at all costs when Doug was in the picture.

  He was not a nice man. He was not abusive toward Barb or Evan in any way. He was simply indifferent.

  Evan became very ill when he was a baby. Mom being a nurse helped Barb through the entire ordeal. Barb and Doug only married because of her pregnancy with Evan. Their marriage had been strained prior to his illness. During it, Doug was unsupportive. Thankfully Evan’s infection was treatable, but there was still stress in their marriage. It wasn’t long after that when Doug took off.

  Barb kept her distance once he left. Mom and Dad would check in with her to make sure she and Evan were ok. Evan and I rarely talk about his dad. He doesn’t want to waste brain cells on him.

  We became friends after Mom died and my dad started socializing with Barb on occasion. They never did anything even remotely romantic. It was only a lunch at the diner, a trip to the mall, a Yankee game every so often.

  It seems too perfect, though. Here are two old friends, who are both single, living a block away from each other, and their kids are best friends. Maybe Dad just doesn’t find Barb sexually attractive? I understand you can’t force an attraction, and I don’t feel that way toward Evan either, but neither of them has made any efforts to meet someone else.

  I’ve since stopped obsessing over it. Evan would laugh at my matchmaking schemes. Some of them were doozies! I would confess to him how perfect it would be for all of us to live together, as one big happy family. He, being a typical guy, had no desire to “set his mom up” with my dad or any guy. I felt differently and I’ve told him so, over and over. I also mentioned he was selfish and he said I was a hopeless romantic…men!

  Once I finally get my act together, I start a list of questions and concerns to bring to the lawyer. It wasn’t a very long list, since I have no clue what I am doing. I am depending on Mr. Morrow to help in this area.

  I feel like a caged animal after being cooped up for hours. I need to get out of this apartment. It is a beautiful day outside and fresh air will do me good. Kicking my ass into gear, I throw on some workout clothes, pull my hair up in a ponytail and take off out the door.

  Living in Hoboken affords me the greatest view of the city. There is a pretty walking path along the river only a few blocks from my place. I set out for it and I feel better already. Distracted by recent events in my life, I walk and lose myself in my thoughts.

  I have so much running through my head. The same thoughts keep me up at night. The problem is that I start to panic when I allow myself to spend time in the cluttered corners of my mind.

  I’m a just normal girl from Jersey. Is this really something I am prepared to embark on? Where will it lead for me? I know where I want it to go, which is singing in my own band, but I am absolutely not ready for that. I ask myself shouldn’t I be in the back ground for now? I am only twenty-five and I need to mature before taking on such ambitious plans, right? But then again, I’ve lived a very sheltered life in Jersey and I need to push my comfort envelope.

  This back and forth going on in my brain is giving me an aneurysm.

  Then there are the stupid issues, like how much do I pack for a six-month tour? I was only partially kidding when I worried where I would hide my tampons. Do we get to stop at a mall to shop in between shows? How will I do my laundry? When will I be able to pick up on more shampoo and mascara? Will I be getting that stuff myself or will someone be shopping for me? A roadie?

  Oh God. Does that mean they will also be buying my tampons?

  Who would I even ask these questions to? Jack? Um no! Jennifer? Hell no! Can I Google it?

  After walking for hours, I am exhausted and my head hurts. The thought of walking all that way back, continuing the battle in my own head makes me want to throw up. I pull out my cell phone and make a better choice. I call Evan.

  “Hey, can you come get me?” I plead into the phone.

  “Where are you?”

  “Edgewater. I’m at the Starbucks.”


  He huffs, “Fine, I’ll be there soon.” He doesn’t even ask why I’m all the way in Edgewater without a car. Evan knows better.

  I can relax now. I will not torture my brain or feet for the rest of the day. Instead, I grab a latte and sit at a table facing the river. Every sip calms me and gives me a moment of clarity. This is what I was born to do. I need to quit whining and show everyone, including myself, what I am made of.

  On Wednesday morning my newfound confidence is missing. I lost it somewhere in the middle of the night. I don’t get it, though. After my “ah ha” moment and the ego stroke from Evan, I was convinced that I was good to go.

  Damn it!

  I force myself out of bed to get ready for my appointment with Mr. Morrow. I search through my closet for another professional outfit and find a basic black dress, my mom’s pearls, and sensible black heels. It’s the perfect outfit for meeting with lawyers and/or funerals.

  The drive to Fort Lee is quick and it’s less than a half hour later when I’m sitting in Mr. Morrow’s outer office waiting to meet my legal guardian angel.

  An angel is exactly who steps out from his office to meet me. He is a very pleasant looking man and has rosy cheeks and a portly middle. He looks like a grandpa. His mere presence comforts me.

  Shaking my hand he ushers me into his office. “It’s very nice to meet you Miss Marino.” He smiles and gestures to a wingchair positioned in front of his antique wooden desk. “Ready to secure your fabulous future?”

  “Please call me Leila. And yes, I’m very ready.”

  “Well, Leila, this is quite an opportunity for you. You must be extremely excited.”

  “Oh, yes I am, but equally nervous. It’s a huge change in my life. I want to make sure I am ready for it.”

  Since he had sent a messenger to pick up the contract yesterday, he assured me he would be totally prepared for our meeting. He glances down to retrieve his reading glasses and replies, “Well, this is why you are here. We will make sure you are comfortable with this information and the expectations this band requires from you. Let’s get started.”