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

by Lexi Buchanan

  She winked and walked off.

  He had no other choice but to follow. At first it felt awkward. He felt like a lumbering fool. Then he looked at the elegant lines of her body moving inside that sheer robe of hers as she walked in front of him. Her posture was perfect, her chin lifted high, a slight smile on her face when she glanced back at him. She was amazing.

  He had the urge to get down on his hands and knees and beg her for another taste. He wanted to kiss her from her ankles to the crease beneath her buttocks, and then tongue her inside. Let her take charge, he reminded himself. Yes, until later.

  In the sitting room, she’d set the food out on the marble coffee table. The champagne was open and poured. She’d put rock music on the stereo and arranged two of the fur rugs on the floor, one white, one black. She urged him towards them.

  He dropped down, immediately wondering what her naked body would look like against the black fur.

  Before she joined him, she pulled a condom out of her pocket. Turning it in her fingers, she made sure he was watching, and then she put it on the tray with the food, on the far side out of his immediate reach.

  He shook his head, smiling. “You’re such a tease.”

  “Consider it a promise. I didn’t want you to think I was being too cruel.”

  “Maybe just cruel enough…?”

  Her eyes sparkled.

  He looked up at her, watched the shift of her breasts under the gauzy robe.

  She noticed and sat down nearby, smiling to herself. “So, you’re an uncle?”

  “Just, yes. I’ve got one sister, Carol, and it’s her first. Although she claims she wants a half dozen. God help us all. I think she means it.”

  “You’re a family man?” There was wary curiosity in her expression.

  “Never really thought about it, but I guess so. Our parents retired to Spain, so I watch out for her. Jim, Carol’s husband, he’s a great guy, and a real computer genius, but he has no business sense.” He winked.

  She nodded, but her eyelids were lowered, hiding her reaction from him. It was as if she wanted to know, but didn’t.

  “So…I take care of that side of things for them. We share a business, a computer business. Mail order and shop. Our parents are flying in soon enough though, to meet their first grandchild.”

  She had knelt up and was moving dishes about on the coffee table, for no real reason. Had he said too much?

  “What about you? Family?”

  She shook her head and put a plate of snacks in between them. “I share a flat with two friends. My mother lives on the south coast. She has a guest house there. That’s it.” She reached for a glass and swigged champagne.

  He could tell she didn’t want him to pry any further, so he turned his attention to the food. “Looks good.” He wasn’t hungry at all, but he knew she’d have to feed him and that was going to be something.

  She nodded, pleased, and lifted the flute of champagne to his lips. It was chilled and delicious, hitting the back of his throat in a flavor-filled froth. She’d spared no expense, and she said she worked in a gym. Could she really afford this? She said it was her holiday money. She wanted this badly enough, he didn’t miss that. But he was going to make Daniel pay her back.

  She fed him asparagus spears and caviar on delicate thinly sliced toasts. “Good?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes.” It was all very luxurious, but he barely noticed. His concentration was on her, her fingers at his mouth, her lips parting when he ate the food from her fingertips. It was erotic, with her so sexily dressed and that look of satisfaction she had about her. Sex made her look different. More relaxed maybe, or mellow.

  And there was the fact that he kept getting flashes of her pussy through the transparent material of her panties, when her robe shifted. He could see the soft, dark hair at her groin. It drew his attention to the groove where he was longing to bury himself. She might have dressed him for “après-sex canapés,” as she called it, but, as far as he was concerned, she was still dressed to be fucked—gloriously fucked.

  The champagne seemed to kick in, and she sprawled out on the fur rug, lying on one side, her legs elegantly aligned, toes pointed, her ankle seeming to invite a kiss.

  “You took a risk, setting this up,” he said, curious.

  The champagne had definitely got to her. Her eyes had a dreamy look about them. “Yes, but if you’d walked out on me, I still had the suite to enjoy.” She didn’t seem surprised by his comment.

  He supposed people remarked on her devil-may-care attitude a lot. “It was a crazy thing to do.”

  “Like I said before, life is short. I like to have fun.” Her gaze ran over him. “Nothing to lose,” she murmured.

  “And everything to gain?” He chuckled.

  She shook her head, not smiling. “Just nothing to lose. That’s the way I like it.”

  The laughter faded on his lips. Why did that make his chest feel heavy? He sensed her creating distance between them again. She was wary, wary of getting close.

  “But you came after me.”

  She stared at him for a long moment before she replied. “For one more night, Tommy, one more night.”

  “But you came after me,” he insisted. She had to want more.

  She reached over and silenced him with a kiss, but it was too late. He knew. She was as prickly as a wounded hedgehog, and she’d rolled into a ball so he couldn’t pick her up. Don’t press her, he warned himself. He felt something hankering inside him, though. Need. He wanted to carry her to the bed now, and every night. He wanted to keep her in his arms. Instead he returned her kiss and when she moved back to lie on her side again, he got to his knees and bent down to kiss her ankle, where it had attracted his attention earlier.

  She gave a pleasured sigh, and he knew he was back on track. He stroked the top of her foot with one knuckle, his bound hands useless to do more. Tracing the curve of her calf muscle with his lips, he breathed across her skin. She trembled beneath him. He kissed the side of her knee, and then leaned over and tongued the back of it. Her hands clutched at the rug, her fingers so pale, digging in against the black fur.

  Moving up her thighs, he breathed in the aroma of her pussy. It was intoxicating, so seductive to him. With his tethered hands, he traced the camber of her back, where it dipped and then flared at her hips. Her bottom was perfect, soft and firm. He bent his head and ran his tongue over the surface of her panties, gratified when he heard her give a whimper of frustration. She wanted it. So did he.

  His dick was practically poking through his jeans, his lower back aching with restraint. He licked her belly, dipping into her navel and shuffling up on his knees to reach beneath her breasts, where her skin was salty. He took the rigid peak of one nipple into his mouth, exploring its knotted surface with his tongue.

  She was on her back and undulating against the rug, her body arching. Then her fingers moved to stroke his hair and when he glanced up he saw that she had lifted her head and was looking at him, her expression intense, her lips parted with anticipation.

  He turned his face into her fingers and kissed them. “Untie me, please,” he whispered. “I need to be inside you.”

  “Show me how much you want it,” she whispered, propping herself up and nodding at his hands where they were bound.

  He knelt up, lifted his wrists in front of his chest. Tensing his muscles, he pulled, stretching the tape beyond its capacity, ripping it and breaking free.

  “Oh, Tommy.” She took a deep intake of breath. She rolled flat onto her back, seeming to melt into the rug, her robe pooling around her. She was breathing heavily.

  Pulling the stands of tape free, he grabbed at his shirt buttons, popping several of them in his haste. She watched as he threw off the shirt and leaned over, lifting the condom from the tray. He unzipped his jeans, took his dick in his hand and rolled the condom on, her gaze making him proud.

  “I’ve longed for this,” he whispered, as his mouth descended towards hers again. He peeled he
r panties down her legs and she slipped the robe off her shoulders. He hauled her body to his. She tilted her head back, her eyes heavy with desire, fingers entwined in his hair. She was all woman and he wanted to be inside her. Her lips were eager and moist, parting readily to take his tongue. She caressed his neck, and then slid one hand down to feel the muscles on his chest.

  “I want you, Tommy, and I…” Her voice faltered. “Hurry, I don’t want to waste a moment.” Her hips moved against him, her hand reaching for his sheathed erection, stroking it.

  “Neither do I.” He groaned. With her hand on his dick like that, the need to be inside her was growing ever more urgent. He climbed over her opening thighs, his dick seeking her out. Rising up on his arms, he paused briefly to look at the need in her face. Her eyes were bright and feverish, and her thighs drew up around his flanks.

  “I thought about this all week…is it such a crime to want you?” He lifted her chin as he spoke and looked deep into her eyes.

  She shook her head.

  “Tommy,” she moaned, a plea in her voice, hands clutching at him when she felt his dick nudging into her.

  With one strong thrust, he was buried to the hilt inside her, and her body closed tightly around him. Oh, that felt so good. She clutched him so invitingly, her cunt so hot and slippery. He groaned aloud, thrusting deep against her, reaching for each demand of her body on his. Her hands were on his back, pulling him harder against her, a pant freeing from her throat each time their movements met.

  He moved her legs higher, and she latched them over his shoulders, bending her under him. He felt how her body molded inside, how it reacted to him, how each thrust reverberated through the tender, sensitive flesh of her cunt.

  She rolled her head, looking away, but he drew her back with one finger against her chin, locking eyes with her. His thighs trembled with effort.

  She struggled with eye contact, it was almost too much to ask of her, but he could see that she wanted to do it, as he much as he wanted her to.

  “Kelly,” he whispered, slowing his movements inside her. He paused mid sentence to pull out and thrust deeper. He groaned.

  She nodded. “Now.”

  He was determined to stay with her. When he felt her jolt and quiver from deep between her thighs, he was harnessed to her and her moment. She was running eager hands over his shoulders, pulling at him. She cried out, her fingers gripping his shoulders tightly, her cunt clutching over and over.

  The climax barreled through him, tensing his every muscle, his body seizing, his dick lurching. He roared aloud, letting some of the tension escape that way. Gasping for breath, he blinked to regain his focus and saw her looking up at him still.

  As the climax subsided, he shifted his hands on the floor, realigned himself, one hand going to her leg against his neck, stroking it, turning into it and kissing it, lovingly.

  “So good, you feel so good,” he murmured. “Oh, Kelly…”

  She wormed from his grasp, closing on him instead. Rolling him onto his back, she kissed him hard, stopping the words he might have said.

  Chapter Seven

  Don’t look back.

  Kelly stood at the bedroom door, both hands against it. She was dressed and ready to go—with all her fancy underwear and cosmetics in her backpack—but something inside her felt as if it were being torn apart. All she had to do was leave. He was asleep. She just had to walk through the door, and she’d fulfill her quest for revenge. He’d wake up alone, just like she’d done the week before. The victory felt strangely hollow now, though. It had been so good the night before, that’s why.

  When she’d finally let him break free and take her, it had been the most intense thing she’d ever experienced. He hadn’t let her look away, maintaining eye contact the whole while. She’d never made love like that before, and that’s what it was: making love. I’ve never actually “made love” before, she realized, and she was already craving more of it.

  She fought the rising urge to return to the bed, to snuggle in against him and wake him with a kiss. They could share breakfast in bed, make love again. You don’t need men, she reminded herself, only for one thing. The fact that he was so good at it was no reason to stay with him. Don’t be weak. She rested her forehead against the door.

  He will only hurt you.

  That did it. Taking a deep breath, she moved one hand to the door handle, and turned it. The door clicked open. For one, brief moment, she paused, hoping that the sound had woken him, that he’d call her back. But all was quiet, save the sound of his breathing as he slept. Opening the door, she shook off her silly doubts and went through it.

  Tommy stirred, yawning and blinking into the narrow line of sunlight that shone into the room. It took him a few moments to work out where he was, and as he did so he had a strong feeling of déjà vu.

  Just like last week all over again, he thought, with a smile. Except the curtains had been completely shut, last night. Kelly must have opened them. Moving, he realized he was alone in the bed. Sitting up, he pushed back the covers, ruffled his hair, and glanced round. The bathroom door was open. She wasn’t in there. Perhaps she’d gone to order breakfast. He reached over and put his hand into the soft dent where her body had lain in the bed. It was cold.

  That’s when it dawned on him. She’d left him alone in the hotel room, just as he had done to her the week before. He knew she hadn’t intended for it to be more than another night, but he’d been too wrapped up in the sex the night before to figure what might happen next. He wasn’t overly surprised, though, not anymore. He was getting to know her, no matter how hard she tried to keep him out. He noticed a small white envelope on her pillow, marked with his name. “So you got me back, did you?”

  Yes, but she had left a note. Being the sort who was into games and one-upmanship, she would, though, wouldn’t she? He shook his head, but he couldn’t help being amused. He should have known. He was learning fast. Second-guessing her would be easier the next time. And there would be a next time. He would make sure of that. She’d played him at his game, so he would play her at hers.

  He picked up the envelope, turned it over and pulled out the card.

  Now you know how it feels.

  That was it, no other comments, it wasn’t even signed, so he still didn’t know her last name. Smiling wryly to himself, he realized she’d kept him awake until well past dawn, making sure he was worn out, so that he wouldn’t wake when she slipped off. She’d planned this all along, the vixen. Although he supposed he deserved it, at least in her eyes. The way she’d forced him to look at the autograph showed him that much. Everything she’d said, she’d meant. She wanted him to believe her because she was stubborn and determined. She really had something to prove. And so did he, now.

  He’d have to work a lot harder to show her he hadn’t wanted to walk away from her. If he’d known she was really interested in him at the outset, they’d still be making the furniture rattle in that very first hotel room, let alone this one. She wanted more, whether she admitted it or not. This hadn’t just been about revenge. She’d enjoyed every minute as much as he had. Whatever reason she had for being so bloody prickly, he wasn’t going to let her get away.

  Running the card against his nose, he took another breath of that scent she’d been wearing. He rested back against the pillows, dropping the card on his chest. Breakfast in bed would have been good. Feeding her tidbits while she looked at him with those strange eyes of hers. He supposed he should be grateful she hadn’t left him tied to the bed for the maid to find. He scanned the room. No sign of the bondage tape.

  Did you keep that for a souvenir, or for another time, Kelly? He groaned, his mind running over the events of the night before, savoring every filthy moment. She’d been a wildcat in bed the weekend before, but seeing her take charge like that last night was something else. She’d used him so thoroughly. He’d never experienced such intense sexuality—such confident domination—in a woman before. Oh, he’d played at it with others, bu
t with Kelly she’d got so far into the role-playing it had consumed her. And him too.

  He ran his hand over his dick, half risen. He still tasted her in his mouth. He wanted to taste her in his mouth again. And again. Idly stroking himself, he shut his eyes and pictured her over him, her taut body towering over him while she lowered her pussy to his mouth. He’d been hard as rock, his balls aching, when he filled his mouth with her, his tongue exploring every soft, damp inch, devouring her pussy.

  His dick went rigid in his palm. Her kinky sex games would haunt him, and she knew it. He chuckled softly. She was a vixen, a devious, scheming, crazy vixen—and he loved it. If she wanted to play games, he was definitely up for it.

  Kelly shut the front door behind her and dropped her backpack on the sofa, unsure whether she was glad to be home or not. Jojo wasn’t around. Her parents had taken her off to a cottage in the country for the weekend for a change of scenery.

  The faint sound of classical music came from the vicinity of Helen’s bedroom. She’d be in bed with the Sunday papers, a large mug of percolated coffee, and the classical station on her stereo. It was Helen’s once-a-week effort at being informed and intellectual. The rest of the week she played loud rock music and drank instant.

  Kelly was glad Helen didn’t appear. She wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone right then. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the CD that Clayton had autographed for Jojo. It had served one purpose, now it would serve another. She went to her friend’s room, where she lifted one of Jojo’s cuddly toys from the shelf, and sat it on the bed with the CD propped between its paws. That would bring a smile to her face. “Mission accomplished,” she murmured to herself.

  When she got inside her own sanctuary, she looked around as if with fresh eyes. It was so different from the exclusive hotel suite of the night before, but she wouldn’t want to live in a place like that all the time. Somewhere in between would be nice. She made a mental note to invest in a couple of framed prints and some faux fur scatter rugs next payday.