LOVE QUAKES: BOXED SET (BOOKS 1-4)

by J. S. Luxor

  The others looked around in surprise at the hostility that at least three of us were directing at our uninvited guest.

  “Stay here,” Tristan barked at us in command mode and moved toward Kristen as well.

  Donna glanced at Derrick for backup. He cleared his throat and began to show Ashley, Eddie and Mona something in the corner of the room, from a recent legal case that he just wrapped up. I quickly whispered an update in Tristan’s ear.

  “She sent Donna those pictures of me with Juan and Erik.”

  Tristan’s eyes turn black with rage. “Don’t move, Joanna. I’ll take care of this.”

  Donna and Tristan ushered Kristen out of the room and toward the vestibule of their home. Though I appear to show interest in Derrick’s material, it’s a sham. My hearing zones in on whatever tidbits I can glean from the heated exchange that’s occurring in the next room. I’d like to throw my wine in Kristen’s prune-like face and slap her. That wouldn’t be the best solution since the family might think I’m incredibly crude. Instead, I listen carefully.

  Donna actually begins the confrontation with Kristen in a rational manner. “Why did you send me those provocative photos of Joanna with her friends?”

  “Donna, I only wanted to protect your family, and Tristan, from that little flirt,” she states with confidence and disdain.

  “Why are you my protector, now, Kristen?” Tristan asks with venom dripping from his tone. “Don’t you think I’ve got a good handle on my ability to judge people?”

  “You know how important you are to me, Donna, and Tristan,” she offers as a defense. I’m astounded at her brazen manner. She’s got the Grant’s wrapped around her little finger.

  “And, only you know what’s best for me?” Tristan asks with sarcasm.

  “Kristen you’ve been much too judgmental about Tristan’s girlfriend,” Donna pronounces with some sympathy. Does she actually think that Kristen’s concerned about his welfare?

  “Mother, Kristen’s been trying to poison you, me and Joanna with various photos for a couple of weeks now. She’s got her own agenda, and it has nothing to do with protecting me.”

  I can hear Donna’s sharp intake of breath as Tristan speaks.

  “When did you send those pictures of Joanna to my mother, Kristen?”

  “Same time that I sent them to you, Tristan,” she claims. “Before you forwarded that ridiculous Cease and Desist letter.”

  “What?” Donna asks in a rising tone of voice.

  “She’s been harassing Joanna with pictures of me in compromising situations as well,” he explains. “I suppose that you’re also protecting Joanna from me, then?”

  “Donna, Tristan, please. I know I’ve been out of line with my behavior. Forgive me. Tristan’s accident had me so worried. When I heard him moaning her name in the hospital, I suspected the worst.”

  “Kristen, you led me to believe that Joanna had something to do with Tristan’s accident,” Donna adds as an accusation.

  “When I arrived at the scene, one of the workers told me that Joanna pushed the cable and made it swing dangerously. That’s what led to Tristan’s fall,” Kristen responds.

  When I hear her absurd explanation, I know that it’s time for me to join their conversation. I excuse myself from the group in the family room and dash into the entryway. When I join them at the door, I see that Kristen’s looking flushed and uncomfortable. Donna and Tristan appear stunned and horrified as they listen to her accusations against me.

  “She’s lying,” I announce when I jump to my own defense. “There were at least five people at the top of the elevator shaft who can testify to the fact that Tristan fell because of the powerful aftershocks from the earthquake. At no time did I pull, push or kick the cable, after I was rescued from the shaft. Why would I even want to do something like that to Tristan?”

  “I don’t know, Miss Prime. That’s what I hear. Why else would Tristan be moaning your name? I thought he wanted to point the finger at you,” she lashes out with venom. The tears begin to flow from my eyes when she insults me. I can hardly imagine how her twisted mind thinks.

  “First of all,” Tristan begins, “I remember that I slipped because the cable swung violently just as I was ascending. The aftershocks definitely caused the problem. Joanna’s too small and delicate to cause that sort of reaction. Second, Bailey watched the entire scene and confirmed the aftershock story about my fall. Third, I moaned Joanna’s name because I wanted her to comfort me. She calmed me during our evening in the elevator, when I had nightmares, if you must know.”

  “Well, I couldn’t have known that. Believe me, I only want what’s best for the Grant family and for you, Tristan,” she asserts with desperation. I really hope both Donna and Tristan see Kristen for what she is at heart. In my view, she’s a controlling witch.

  “Get out,” Tristan yells. “You just want to manipulate me, Kristen. Don’t attempt to interfere in my relationship, ever again. Do you understand? The Cease and Desist Order remains In place. One peep out of you, Kristen, and I’ll ruin your business.” Kristen nods and looks at Tristan with shock on her face. Is this the first time that she’s ever taken Tristan seriously?

  Donna looks a bit uneasy about Tristan’s harsh response. She doesn’t know the depths of Kristen’s depravity though. She might not be able to imagine what’s happened in the past. Tristan isn’t ready to share that information, at this point. I’m just relieved that he’s clear about their boundaries and will enforce the C&D letter. Kristen opens the door and leaves with a defeated slump to her shoulders.

  I pull Tristan into my arms and kiss his cheek with enthusiasm. “You did the right thing, Tristan. Thank you for defending me from her ridiculous charges.”

  Donna looks befuddled. “Why would she think those things about Joanna?”

  I shake my head and more tears spring from my eyes. I’ll never understand such twisted thinking. One thing’s for sure, she wants my man.

  “Like I said,” Tristan begins when he sees my tearful face, “she wants to manipulate and control me. It’s a long story, mother, and I’ll tell you more about it one day. For now, let’s just chalk it up to doing business.” I sigh with relief as we hear Kristen drive her car away.

  “Well, let’s have a drink,” Donna suggests with a sad smile and heads back to the family room. Tristan looks me in the eyes and kisses me with relief. He’s shaking all over. He’s finally pulling away from Kristen’s powerful grip and I’m the reason for it.

  “Are you alright, Joanna?” Tristan asks as he wipes the tears from my cheeks. I nod my head yes. “Don’t worry, baby, we’ll be going soon.”

  “You deserve a huge reward for all that you did and said tonight,” I tell him. His eyes light up with excitement. He really wants me and that’s such a satisfying feeling.

  “I’ve got plans for you, Miss Prime, later,” he assures me. My tears stop immediately and my gut clenches.

  Donna tactfully tells the group still gathered in the family room that Kristen was a family friend who was meddling in affairs that shouldn’t concern her. Mona and Eddie look mystified but know from the look on Donna’s face that the topic is now off limits. Ashley stares at my tear stained face and asks if I’m alright. I assure her that I’m fine.

  “It’s getting late,” Tristan announces a few moments later and takes my hand to leave. We tell the family goodnight and I promise to shop with Mona in the near future. Ashley won’t see me again before I leave for the conference so we say our goodbyes now. Then, I nearly run to the car in anticipation of Tristan’s next lesson.

  “Glad to see that you’re an eager pupil, Miss Prime.”

  “I’ve been waiting a long time, Mr. Grant.”

  “Me, too, baby, me too,” he chants. I pet Tristan’s leg as he speeds us toward his condo. The expression on Tristan’s face grows more intense by the moment.

  “By the way, I’ve been on the pill for a month now. Visiting the health clinic was one of the last things I did
at school before commencement.”

  “I like a woman who’s prepared,” he gushes with kisses to my upraised fingers and hand repeatedly.

  During our elevator ride to the penthouse, Tristan pulls me to his lips like a man who’s been starved. The passion in that kiss promises me that tonight will be different. Just the touch of his fingers on my skin seems to burn. I want him like never before.

  Bailey nods at us as we leave the elevator. It’s obvious that we’ve been making out since my hair’s a mess and we’re flushed with pleasure. The hint of a smile tugs at Bailey’s lips but he suppresses it as Tristan heads us straight to the master suite. I toss my purse and jacket on a chair and slip my stilettos off. Tristan empties his pockets and slips his shoes off too.

  “Are you ready to play, baby?”

  I nod my head vigorously and give him my best smile. He’s more than hard when he takes me into his arms by the bed. I wrap my hands around Tristan’s neck and go in for a gentle kiss. He’s not in the mood for gentle this evening though. His sculpted mouth greedily kisses and then sucks my tongue. I’m already beginning to swoon. Within moments, his hands are wandering freely over my chest and making me whimper with need. He pushes me swiftly onto the mattress while tossing the duvet to the bottom of the bed. I’m lying in a prone position with my arms on his biceps while we deepen our embrace. He’s hovering over me now. Tristan’s actually letting his chest take some pressure.

  “I want to try something, Joanna,” he announces and looks to me for approval. I’m game for anything tonight so I merely grunt my assent.

  “Let’s take your clothes off, first,” Tristan suggests as his hands find the hem of my new dress and tug it over my head. He tosses the dress onto the nearby chair with ease. He takes a moment to stare at my body in the new and expensive underwear. He sighs in appreciation. Then his long deft fingers squeeze my breasts through the revealing bra. We both moan simultaneously.

  In the next instant, my bra’s been removed and thrown somewhere. Tristan pulls me up into a semi-seated position on the bed and pops one of my breasts into his mouth and sucks, tenderly. My other breast is getting a Tristan Grant massage with just the right amount of nipple pulling and squeezing. After several minutes of foreplay, Tristan pauses and pulls out his tie from around his collar. He’s still fully dressed in a shirt and pants. I touch his shirt collar but he shakes his head no.

  The next thing I know, my arms are pulled above my head, together, and attached to the headboard with his tie. This is just a bit kinky but it’s probably related to his injured ribs. Once I’m secured, Tristan pulls off his own pants and shirt and tosses them on the chair. The look on his face indicates nothing but appreciation and desire. He’s in another place entirely when he pulls himself to my side then and kisses me passionately on the lips.

  His long slender fingers find their way to my ass and massage it slowly and thoroughly. I’m writhing around while he looks deeply into my blue eyes. He tugs at my new panties as we quickly work them off my hips and down to my ankles. I manage to push them all the way off and kick them away from where we’re making out. He makes an approving sound as he looks at the exposed results of my Brazilian wax job.

  Then his hands begin their magic moves on my most private parts. I’m lost to his perfect touch. He’s stimulating me with his hands, and then fingers, in every way possible. His underwear remains intact as he pleasures me in the most thrilling manner with the expert pressure of his thumb, index and middle fingers. He keeps up a steady rhythm on my most sensitive internal tissues.

  Finally, I lose myself to one orgasmic spasm after another. We’re both moaning incoherently when I finally reach a mind-numbing climax and scream out his name with reverence. He kisses me repeatedly and looks delighted as I collapse onto his bed feeling more than satiated.

  “Do you want a release?” I ask with eagerness. He shakes his head no and gives me a very kind look.

  “Not tonight. I just want to make up for my crazed business partner and show you how much I care for you,” he whispers before taking me in his arms and falling soundly asleep with an angelic smile on his face.

  Chapter Seven – Conference

  I wake up wrapped around my gorgeous boyfriend. Tristan doesn’t seem to mind that my head rests on his shoulder and that my arms are around his waist. His ribs must be healing quickly. He’s conscious before me and gives me the most passionate wake-up kiss ever. It’s so much fun to play with my millionaire lover boy.

  “What a wonderful greeting, Tristan. Your demonstration last night had me dancing with the stars,” I admit and blush at the memory of that amazing trip to the heavens.

  He chuckles with pride, “Hopefully that will keep you sexually satisfied until you return from NYC.”

  “Now that you’ve introduced me to the wonders of your expert fingers, I may need to call you for some intermittent phone sex while in Manhattan.”

  “Good.” Tristan’s searing expression lets me know we won’t be getting out of bed anytime soon.

  “You’re delicious,” he mutters after a very intense fifteen minute make out session. “I may not let you attend the conference after all.”

  “Look at it this way, by the time I’ve returned from New York, you should be fully healed.”

  “And you will be coming like a space rocket,” he promises with those enticing aqua eyes.

  “Then, I’ve got more to look forward to with our adventures,” I admit and jump out of bed with enthusiasm.

  It’s time for me to get dressed and head to the airport. I kiss Tristan with promises of more to come. He has that abandoned little boy look on his face as I walk out of the penthouse toward the SUV for my flight. Hawk drives both Janelle and me to the gate. We’ve been upgraded to first class by Tristan, of course. I text him before boarding.

  “Thank you for the upgrade, T.”

  “For you, I’d do anything Joanna.”

  “Jan says you’re the best.”

  “How would she know? I miss your mouth and arms already.”

  “I miss your fingers, Tristan.”

  “I miss your folds, Joanna.”

  “You’re getting me hot.”

  “Great. Stay that way for a few days, baby.”

  “Will do. Time to go. Love, Joanna”

  “You’ll be coming soon. Love, Tristan.”

  “YES!” I text then shut my phone down to give the attendant my boarding pass. I look at Janelle with a gleam in my eye.

  “I see that Tristan really likes you, Joanna. He could hardly take his eyes from yours at Luigi’s on Saturday night. Now he’s lavishing you and me with these favors. You must have some serious mojo going on,” Janelle jokes as we find our seats in first class. I laugh but say nothing more.

  “Tristan’s so generous and loving but we’ve had our problems, too,” I confide and then add, “Looks like things are going well with Edwin. You had that star-struck look on your face at the restaurant, girl.”

  Janelle smiles about her own love life and is about to say more but is interrupted by the flight attendant who gives us each a drink and settles us into our seats with pillows and a perky smile. We’ve brought our IPads along for the conference. We even have a chance to read and discuss some new therapies while on the five hour flight. Ryan who’s in coach class with his wife, Nancy, would be proud of us. Our flight goes smoothly. We arrive at LaGuardia airport around dinner time.

  After checking in at the Marriott and registering for the convention, we head to our room. Its modest in size but the view of Times Square from the 18th floor really thrills us. Ryan and Nancy accompany us to a popular restaurant used by many at the conference. Ryan introduces us to quite a few of his colleagues in the therapy field. There are so many young graduate students and analysts around my age at the place.

  Janelle and I sit at the end of a long dining table with nearly thirty other psychologists crowded around it. Three younger men in their twenties gravitate toward Janelle and me. We meet Chris
, Michael and Omar. It’s also their first time at the annual conference. The excitement about what’s to come runs high. The guys work at a large and important psychiatric hospital in the Midwest and are energetic as well as friendly.

  We talk about our jobs and joke about the titles of the conference sessions. The dinner actually doesn’t break up until around midnight when we head back to our hotels. Janelle and I walk back together and fall asleep quickly. I know Hawk lurks about somewhere but we can’t even see him, given the crowds of people that walk around near Times Square.

  On Tuesday, Janelle and I get involved in the convention by listening to various speakers, participating in small discussion groups and learning about the latest treatment trends from other therapists. By noon, I feel overwhelmed with information and am truly ready for a breather. We find a small café to decompress in just half a block down from the Marriott. Janelle and I talk about the ideas that will help TTP move forward in our changing and competitive field. Our jobs involve finding and nurturing therapies and methods that will appeal to both our clients and the younger, more experimental, therapists.