What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 6)

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What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 6) Page 24

by London Casey


  Chapter Six

  The key to Eden’s townhouse burned in the breast pocket of Seth’s t-shirt, just like the image of her standing behind that guy Michael—a man Ryan obviously knew too—burned in his mind and the sound of her voice saying I love you burned in his ears. He hadn’t intended to end the night on her door step and Edwards sure as hell hadn’t intended for him to make free with the key to her home, but he couldn’t let the matter go.

  Ignoring Edwards’ insistence that the key wasn’t for Seth to use, but to know Edwards wouldn’t be using it, he let himself into her house. The hour was past dawn but the hazy sky didn’t let much sunlight through. Her home, warm and comfortable the evening he’d picked her up for dinner, was now gray and bordering on claustrophobic. Or maybe that was just him, feeling trapped in his own skin. He half expected an alarm to signal his intrusion. Instead, the only sound in the house came from the shower upstairs. Making up his mind, he closed the front door and locked it. The shower cut off.

  He was halfway up the stairs when Eden’s voice called, “Ry? Is that you?”

  And he reached the landing before she repeated the question, her voice lower, holding an anxious edge. But he couldn’t bring himself to answer. A moment later, he stopped in the open door to her bedroom. She had her hand on the phone beside her bed, a towel clutched to her chest but not wrapped around her body. Her head swiveled toward him and she shrieked, scrambling backward. He saw the instant recognition overcame alarm. She collapsed in a large chair near her bed, color first draining from her face, then returning in a rush.

  “God.” She leaned forward and hung her head, breathing hard. “You scared me to death.”

  Seth gripped the molding above the door. “Ryan gave me his key.”

  “Yeah, well, he identifies himself when he gets here. If you’re going to use it, you have to give me the same courtesy.” She covered her face and exhaled, bare shoulders shaking hard.

  Seth looked away from her, around the room he hadn’t bothered to inspect the last time he was in it. She was tidy but not immaculate. An ivory nightgown spilled over the edge of the mattress, as if she’d taken it off and tossed it carelessly aside before going to the shower. It probably still smelled like her. He closed his eyes. “I need to know everything that’s going on.”

  “I can’t tell you,” she said, her voice a little rough. “I can’t. I know you feel like I’m keeping secrets from you. You’re right, I am. But they’re not my secrets. I haven’t held anything about me back from you.”

  Her words closely underscored Edwards’. Seth shook his head and cursed. “That doesn’t make any damned sense.”

  “I don’t know how else to give you what you want. I’ve told you why I accompany Ryan and Michael to events. Sometimes they need dates. When we leave, they drop me off here and go home.”

  “I know you weren’t fucking them. Are you now?”

  Eden’s lips parted. She looked stunned. “No, of course not. They don’t even stay here.” She paused. “Not usually. Michael stayed last night. He was worried about me.”

  Seth’s shoulders bunched. He should turn around and walk away but he couldn’t. In the short time he’d known her, after only one night together, she’d made a place for herself under his skin. He might have been able to save himself before her broken confession the night before but she’d thrown her feelings between them and he couldn’t turn from them. No amount of arguing with himself through the night had been able to convince him to just walk away. “You can’t tell me, and I can’t deal with not knowing.”

  He turned from her, using the last of his control to put some distance between them. He sensed rather than saw her move and smelled her before she touched him. Uncertain hands flattened against his stomach.

  “I’m not ready to let you go yet,” she whispered.

  “Don’t touch me, Eden, not now. Not when I still have the picture of you with another man in my head. I am on the edge here, and if you push me, you aren’t going to like what you find.”

  “That’s part of being in love, though. You can’t hold back. I don’t want you to hold back.”

  He spun out of her hold, his anger breaking free. “You don’t want me to hold back? Really? Because I have a few things to say to you about trust and honesty. You know my past, you know what Joanne did to me. How did you justify seeing another man behind my back? Edwards I can deal with because I know. You didn’t hide it from me, and I don’t like it, but I can deal. This is something else and I won’t take that kind of dishonesty. I have to know I can trust you, and right now I just don’t. How can I when you won’t tell me what’s going on?”

  Her eyes were wide, her arms crossed across her naked breasts. “I didn’t mean to keep anything from you. I wish I could tell you. I want to, but I just can’t.”

  “That’s bullshit, Eden. Even if there is something you can’t tell me—and I don’t buy that—but even if there is, do you know how it looked to walk into that backyard and see you with another man? How do you expect me to trust you?”

  She bit her lip, looked down, then back up at him. She was so beautiful, so vulnerable, but he just could not do this again. Trust was not something he could negotiate.

  “What if—what if I call and clear it? Maybe I can…”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  She shook her head and turned from him. Seth’s teeth ground together as he told himself to look away from the flare of her bare ass. Hating the way his dick jumped in spite of his anger, he cast about the room for something else to focus on. The damned photo on her nightstand caught his eye. His erection didn’t wilt, but the moment of weakness fled, shored up by the reminder of why he was there. Details. He concentrated on details. Edwards stood between Eden and the other guy, Michael. His arm was slung across Eden’s shoulder and she laughed up at him, bright and happy. Seth shook his head and looked away, only to spot another picture, one he hadn’t noticed before. This one sat on her dresser, wedged into the seam between the wood and glass of her mirror. Eden again, this time surrounded by three men. He didn’t recognize the third, who stood on Eden’s right, but there was Edwards again with his arm around her and Michael beside him. Anger surged, strengthened and pounded in his ears.

  Eden’s voice penetrated the haze as if from a distance. He focused on her. She sat on the edge of her bed, bare knees drawn up to her chest, talking into the phone in hushed, urgent tones. “…I’m sorry. I know you’re both dealing with your own thing right now. But I need one of you to pick up the phone.” She paused, closed her eyes, and said, “Ry? Michael? Are either of you there? Please call me when you get this.”

  She slowly replaced the receiver in the cradle, a hopeless expression darkening her eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this until I hear back from them. Are you going to leave?”

  Instead of answering, he reached for the picture propped against her mirror and strode across the room to drop it on the bed beside her. “Another man whose secret you can’t tell?”

  Eden blinked, her fingertips carefully pinching the corner of the picture. She raised her head and met his eyes, hers narrowing. The despair left her voice. A thin, sharp edge hardened her response. “My brother Christopher. Do you want to check the other rooms for something else to throw between us? I have yearbooks from high school and college. I played intramural basketball when I was a junior in high school. The team was co-ed. I’m fucking surrounded by guys in that picture. Do you want to see it? Do you want to know their names, too?”

  If he’d been less pissed, he’d have rolled his eyes. Of all the ridiculous…“Get a grip. This isn’t about your past. I know you don’t have one. This is about you keeping secrets. Don’t put this back on me.”

  The noise she made could only be described as a growl. “No, this is about you not trusting me. Joanne the Bitch fucked around on you and you expect me to do the same. Well, I have news for you. I. Am. Not. Joanne.” She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and hauled herself up even w
ith his face. “I don’t want other men. I’m proud of what you do and could give a rat’s ass about your stupid social obligations. I love you, dammit.” She pressed her lips to his: a hard, angry kiss that lacked any skill.

  Something inside him snapped and he fell over the edge he’d warned her about. A distant inner voice warned him to stop, told him he was crossing a line he’d never crossed before, but he couldn’t seem to stop his hands from grasping her by her triceps and hauling her off her feet. He bore the entirety of her weight, lifting her high and smashing his mouth against hers. Eden clutched at his biceps and wrapped her long legs around his waist.

  All the lurking tension that had gathered inside him since the first time they were alone together in the hotel’s empty conference room, since she’d told him she wanted their involvement kept a secret from his company, exploded from his body. To hell with her secret-keeping. He bit her bottom lip, hard enough that she gasped and jerked in his hold, then he dragged her higher and buried his face in her throat. Her skin, still damp from her shower, was clean and cool beneath his tongue. Seth closed his teeth over a spot beneath her chin and sucked. Eden shuddered. She pulled at his t-shirt.

  His forehead dropped to her shoulder. Breathing fast and hard, he gave her a little shake. “Don’t. I don’t want you to give in.”

  “I want you,” she said in his ear, low and fierce. Her grasp around his waist tightened. She tilted her hips and pressed her hot, open slit against his stomach. Even through his shirt, he could feel the outline of her soft, naked lips. “What do you expect me to do? Beg you to stop? I won’t. I’m not giving you an easy way out.”

  “Just shut up.” He pulled her off him and tossed her backwards onto the bed. She landed legs splayed, and the sight of her vulnerable flesh displayed for him brought something primitive to the surface. She wouldn’t tell him what the other men meant to her, so he would claim her the only way he could. With jerky motions, he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

  He reached forward, intent on having her. Grabbing her ankles, he hauled her down the bed toward him. Her hips lifted off the bed as he pulled her legs up. “You want to push me. You think I don’t see what you’re doing, but you’re wrong. This doesn’t change anything.”

  Her lips parted to say something, and he used the leverage he had to flip her onto her stomach, startling her out of whatever she’d been about to say.

  “I said shut up.” God, he couldn’t afford to have her say anything. If she said the wrong thing, he didn’t know if he could walk away. Right this minute, he needed to be inside her, to prove to them both that, at least in this one way, she was his alone.

  Roughly, he pulled her hips up, pressing her chest into the bed. Christ, she was beautiful. His hand shook as he reached out to trace her folds, opening her. She was damp for him, not ready, but definitely into it. Whatever small sense of restraint he’d maintained evaporated. He shoved two fingers into her, desperate to feel her.

  She made a sexy little noise, her hips undulating under the surprise invasion. He used his free hand to trace the curve of her ass, enjoying the smooth, cool skin. She softened and heated around his fingers. He lifted his hand and brought it back with a loud slap, and she jumped under the stinging blow. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me.”

  Unbelievably, her sheath spasmed around his fingers, moisture slicking his way. She’d liked it. A little gasp confirmed it.

  He fumbled, one handed, with the snap of his jeans. Impatient, he shoved them down, taking his shorts with them. The abrupt movement caught his dick and he bounced free with a wince. The pain only fed his hunger. God, he was a sick bastard.

  Finally free of his clothes, he pulled his hand from her pussy. Using one hand to hold her hips steady, he pressed the head of his cock to her opening. In one long, deep thrust, he pushed himself balls-deep. She still wasn’t used to his size, and his fingers hadn’t done enough to prepare her. He knew he had to be hurting her, but in that moment he just couldn’t bring himself to care. All he cared about was imprinting himself on her, branding her as his from the inside out. Her whimpers as she struggled to adjust to his girth only made him hotter. Somehow, he found the control to give her that moment of adjustment. Sweat beaded on his forehead as her hot, silky flesh quivered around him, gripping his dick as tight as a fist.

  He distracted himself by pressing one damp finger to her puckered rear entrance, using her own fluid to slick his way.

  She jerked under him at the surprising caress. “Seth…”

  “Don’t talk, Eden. Not now. You had your chance, and you didn’t say anything I wanted to hear.” He pressed his finger inside, just the tip, but his fingers were big and they stretched the opening in a visual display that had his own hips twitching. “I want to fuck you here. I want to push my cock deep in your ass, take this virginity, too.”

  Her choked moan told him she wasn’t adverse to the idea. That she would let him take her that way, let him take her however he wanted, was insanely erotic. He couldn’t wait any more. His dick was throbbing, the need for orgasm growing too strong to ignore.

  “Reach down. Feel me inside you.”

  She obeyed immediately, as if sensing how tenuous his hold on reality actually was. Her fingers slid over her damp flesh, finding the place where his body entered hers. She ran her fingers around him, over the taut stretch of her body. He grunted when she brushed over his sac, pulled tight to the base of his cock.

  “Finger your clit. Get yourself off for me.”

  Her hand moved up, her knuckles brushing the straining heat of his shaft as she danced her fingers over the bundle of nerves. She shuddered beneath him, a flush rising along her back.

  His. Dammit, she was his. He was inside her. She was doing what he wanted her to do. Not some other man.

  Her hips began to undulate against him as she worked herself against his cock in tiny movements. Not enough.

  Though it was like pulling off his own skin, he slid out, nearly all the way. The air was cool on the damp length of him, and she made a tiny sound of protest, moving her hips to try to recapture him. He pushed his finger in to the first knuckle, distracting her. Her breathy cry reached inside him to stoke the flames of arousal.

  Slowly, intent on savoring every millimeter, he pressed back into her. Hot. Wet. So damned good.

  Seated fully, he ground even deeper. She whimpered, circling her hips around him the same way she circled her clit with her fingers. She tensed, her thighs trembling and her spine bowed. He could tell she was nearly there, feel it gathering in her. He’d never felt so attuned to a lover, not just aware of the physical responses, but of the connection between them. He didn’t want to think about what that meant.

  Rearing back, he slammed home and she began coming. Her high-pitched moan and rhythmic contractions shut down his brain. There was no more thought, no more will, only the drive to orgasm. He began thrusting with heavy power, plowing into her convulsing sheath with atavistic determination. Every inward thrust was like pushing through gripping fingers, every outward pull like being sucked by a greedy mouth. Sensation on top of sensation until he smashed through the edge and into his own release.

  Like a geyser exploding at the base of his spine, his orgasm boiled up from his balls and erupted, dragging heat and fierce pleasure up the length of his cock. Every pulsing expulsion of his ejaculation seemed to hammer home his claim. She was his. And he’d by God keep her.

  Exhaustion fell upon him before he could say as much to her, and he curled around her in response. Eden stirred beneath him. Seth shifted his weight to the side and dragged her back to his front, aware that he probably held her tight to the point of discomfort, but unable to give a damn. Past the tangled fall of her hair, the damned photo on her nightstand stared at him. He made himself look at it again, Edwards’ arm around Eden, at his hand on the other man’s shoulder. And something clicked in his head.

  The ringing phone cut through her sleep. Even so, she woke slowly, feeling lo
ose and warm. By the time she’d shaken off the last remnants of her dreams, the phone was silent. She stretched leisurely, her hand extending across the bed beside her. It was empty, even the warmth of his body gone. She could still smell him, that masculine smoke-tinged musk scent, on the sheets and in the air.

  Her lashes fluttered before she opened her eyes. She couldn’t blame him for leaving after the way she’d used sex to distract him. A little twinge of anxiety moved in her chest. If he was gone, she didn’t really want to know.

  He wasn’t gone. He’d moved one of the bedroom chairs to face the bed and was sprawled in the chair watching her. He was absolutely, magnificently, naked. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair, the points of his fingers dangling over the sides. His legs were splayed wide, his feet planted on the floor, and his impressive erection rose proudly in front of his torso. She controlled her sigh of satisfaction at finding him still here. Maybe it would be okay.

  Eden moved to her side, propping her head on her hand. He met her eyes with a steady, heavy-lidded gaze, thick black lashes veiling his eyes. She smiled at him slowly and extended her hand to invite him back to bed. His jaw set and he ignored her gesture. She shook her head at him, still smiling. It seemed to her that he was fighting himself rather than her. He wouldn’t still be here if he didn’t think they had a chance.

  She slid off the bed and moved to kneel between his spread thighs. He tensed as she looked up his body. His face was all harsh planes, his eyes glittering in the soft gloom. She smoothed her hands up his legs, his ankles, his calves, dipping behind his knees to tease the vulnerable backs with light strokes of her short nails. She feathered touches along the insides of his thighs, brushing teasingly in the crease between his thighs and torso. His breathing hitched, then sped. She skimmed just alongside the heavy testicles, teased him by avoiding the hard flesh which reached for her. His breath hissed out and he gripped the arms of the chair hard enough the wood creaked.

 

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