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

by London Casey

  Elizabeth stared at his chest. “I thought—what you said to me, I thought you meant every word. And I still wanted to see you—it’s why I was outside the principia. I was on my way to watch you and Marius when I was attacked.” Her hand slid away from his cheek, and he felt cold at the loss of her touch. “So, you’re free?”

  “I am. Freed and cleared. Marius announced it in front of the entire garrison.”

  “It’s going to take time—”

  He cut her off with his lips. He couldn’t wait any longer, and his need to touch her took over.

  Relief tangled with desire as she responded, her mouth opening under his assault. He breathed her in, slid his arm around her waist and hauled her up, until he felt her warm, slim body against his.

  It would take time, but he knew now, from the way she clutched his shoulders, and the heat in her kiss, that she was not lost to him.

  Elizabeth held on to Kane, still not believing he was actually here, that this wasn’t one of the dreams that haunted her almost every night.

  He broke off the kiss, leaned his forehead against hers. “God help me, Beth—I need you. Please tell me now if we can’t continue, because if I kiss you again, I’ll not be able to stop.”

  “Kane.” The hurt from his callous words still cut into her, and it was a hurt that would take a while to heal. But she had missed him, more than she thought possible, and needed him to hold her. She just needed him. Her next words had her heart pounding. “Please—make love with me.”

  He let out what sounded like a relieved breath—and took hers away when he swept her up in his arms and carried her out of the kitchen.

  She buried her face in his throat, breathed in his scent. It was different—still clean, but with the sharp herbal of the healing ointment from Appia’s shop. She had missed him so much, just his scent, and the feel of his arms holding her, threatened to overwhelm her.

  She wanted so badly to see his face, sharp and clear. Her sight had been unpredictable, and she was terrified that it wouldn’t get any better.

  Kane set her on the floor and moved past her. She heard the door close, and let out a shaky breath. When he returned, he sat on the sleeping couch, and pulled her forward, so she stood between his legs. She kept moving until she felt him, all of him. He groaned, and captured her lips, his kiss taking her under. Her body opened to his touch, the new callouses on his hands rough as they ran over every inch of skin they could reach.

  She did the same, sliding her hands up his chest, over his shoulders. He felt different, the muscle under her fingers harder, more defined. The strength in the arm that held her—his right arm—told her he had healed more than either one of them thought he would.

  Then he closed his wandering hand over her breast and she stopped thinking at all.

  He broke off the kiss, his breathing rapid, and tightened his arm, lifting her until she straddled him. His erection pressed into her, hard and throbbing. She wanted him, so much her body shook.

  “Last chance, love, if you are not recovered enough.”

  “If you stop now, it will most likely kill me.”

  His face was blurred, just color, light and shadow, but she saw enough to know he smiled at her words. She couldn’t see well, but all her other senses were on high alert. She let them take over.

  Kane brushed his lips over her ear. “God help me, I missed this. I missed you.” He kissed his way down her throat, and she rocked against him, heat coiling through her. “Slowly, love,” he whispered. His breath sent shivers over her skin. “I want to savor you.”

  “Yes, please.”

  He laughed, the warm sound of it wrapping around her. His hands touched her waist, loosened the tie there, then under her breasts. He slid his hands under the hem of the stola, his fingers trailing up her hips, her waist. She wanted to scream in frustration when he stopped, just inches from her breasts.

  “Lift your arms, love. This is coming all the way off.” She obeyed, felt the cool air hit her skin as he pulled it up and over her head.

  Before she could resort to begging, his mouth closed over her breast.

  She let out a raw gasp, and tangled both hands in his hair to keep him there. He moved his fingers up to tease her swollen nipple as he shifted to her other breast. His tongue drew slow circles, then flicked over the peak, again and again. The combination of his hand and his mouth on her left her dizzy, breathless, and aching.

  He kissed his way back up her throat, to her ear. “Open for me, Beth.”

  She understood a second later, when his hand skimmed down her stomach, inside her panties, and cupped her.

  “Kane—oh God—” No man had ever touched her, not like this.

  “I need to feel your heat.” He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, and slipped his fingers inside her.

  She let out a startled cry, pressing her hand against his when he started to pull out.

  “Stay—oh, God, please stay.”

  She let her head fall back as he slid his fingers in, and she felt herself tighten around them. Her hands dug into his shoulders when he went deeper, her breathing ragged as his callous rough fingers stroked her. It was exquisite, amazing—and the orgasm hit her so hard and fast, she clutched him to keep from tumbling off the couch.

  Kane leaned his forehead against hers, his breathing just as ragged. “All right?”

  “You—that—thank you.”

  “You’re all right? No headache?”

  She smiled. “Not at the moment.”

  “How much can you see, Beth?”

  “Enough.” She reached up, cradled his cheek. “Love me, Kane.”

  With a groan he lifted her and settled her to the sleeping couch. She pulled off her panties, and when he joined her again he was completely, gloriously naked.

  This was what she wanted, what she needed. This connection with him, the physical and emotional wrapped around each other. They didn’t have sex; Kane made love with her, and each time it was richer, deeper, more fulfilling.

  He lowered his weight over her, too slowly, and she slid her hands across his back, urging him down. He growled, and adjusted himself until his erection pressed into her heat. They both moaned, and she opened wider, letting out a shaky breath as he eased every hot, thick inch inside her.

  “Beth.” His voice was low, strained, like he fought for control. “I don’t know if I can love you slowly—it has been too long—”

  He slipped out of her, and thrust back in, hard and deep. She gasped, startled by the almost violent possession.

  He stilled. “Did I hurt you? God—Beth, I am sorry—”

  He started to pull out, and she grabbed his hips.

  “No.” She reached up, wanting him, all of him. “Please, don’t stop—”

  With a low groan, he kissed her, and started to move, a hot, fast rhythm that left her gasping for breath. She lifted her hips, met every thrust. He shuddered under her hands, his skin slick with sweat. His aggressive lovemaking aroused her, excited her, and she strained to bring him closer. He slid one hand down her leg, and hooked it over his hip. Her head fell back as he went deeper, touching the center of her.

  Pressure built with every stroke, spiraling through her, an ache she never felt before pushing her to move faster, find the release his touch, his body promised her.

  His mouth found her breast, and she let out a low cry, arching into him. Her fingers dug into his arms as his lips, his tongue, his teeth, teased and tasted, matching the ever faster pace of his thrusts. He freed her, left her breathless.

  “Beth—I need to—”

  “Please—faster—” He obliged and she bowed off the mattress as he plunged into her.

  His lips caught her scream when pleasure burst through her. She tightened around him, and he groaned against her lips as his body stiffened. He drove into her, hard, desperate, and she held on to him as they both lost control.

  Elizabeth felt the cool bedcovering against her flushed cheek. Feeling was finally coming back�
��she was a little worried at first, until she realized Kane was on top of her. She figured his weight had temporarily cut off her circulation. Not that she cared—he could sprawl his beautiful body over her for the next few years, and she’d be perfectly happy.

  Every inch of that body was hot and slick with sweat, his warm, uneven breath tickling her skin.

  He pressed his lips against her throat, made his way up to her mouth, kissing her with such thoroughness she fought to breathe when he freed her.

  The tip of his erection slid into her, and she let out a raw gasp as he eased himself in, already hard again. He groaned, lowered his forehead to hers.

  “I need—God help me, I want you again.”

  “Please—don’t let me stop you.”

  He let out a low growl, slid his arm under her back, and startled a cry out of her as he pulled her up and into his lap. The new position buried him completely inside her.

  “Beth.” His low voice was ragged. He shifted, and she tightened around him. “Oh, sweet God. You feel so good.”

  He lifted her until he slid partly out of her. Before she could protest he lowered her again. The feel of him, so hot, so deep, was exquisite. No man had ever made her feel like her skin was on fire. She fisted one hand in his hair, leaned in to kiss him. With her limited sight, it was all sensation. The slick heat of his skin, his muscles tensing under her fingers, his hard length inside her.

  She gasped when he thrust up, filling her.

  “Beth—bloody hell—”

  His curse startled a breathless laugh out of her. It ended on a gasp as he wrapped his arm around her waist and lowered her to the sleeping couch, his weight settling over her.

  “Now,” he whispered, his breath hot on her cheek. “Now, I will savor.”

  He set a slow, exquisite pace, and she felt every inch of him as he stroked her, loved her. A different kind of heat shimmered through her, and when he took her mouth in a kiss that matched the slow pace of his lovemaking, he left her dizzy with need.

  His breathing quickened, and he let out a low moan against her lips when she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him in. She felt the heat gathering, and moved restlessly under him.

  He eased away from her lips, and she dropped her head back as he kissed his way down her throat. She rocked up against him, needing to move faster.

  “Kane—please—”

  “Feel, love. Feel me, like this.” He slipped all the way out, then lifted her hips and sank back in. She let out a raw gasp at the sensations that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “Kane—”

  “Let go, Beth. It’s all right, love. Just let go.”

  He stroked her again, long and slow, and that was all it took for her to fly apart. He groaned, and finally thrust into her, hard, deep, setting off another climax. She arched up, and he buried his face in her throat as his own climax hit.

  They held on to each other, and she slowly came down, her breath starting to even out. Kane’s weight pushed her into the mattress, his length still inside her. She loved the feel of him, filling her, joining them together. He lifted his head, brushed his lips over her jaw.

  “All right, love?”

  “Incredible.”

  He laughed, and it rumbled through her. “I believe I am all in for the night.”

  “What, no repeat performance?”

  “Love, if I tried that again, I may very well kill myself.” He eased out of her, and pulled the cover over them. To her surprise, he gently gathered her sweat damp hair and draped it over her shoulder, before he wrapped his arm around her waist. He slid her back until she spooned him, nestled against his still impressive erection. She blinked up at the blur of his face when he twitched. “Some of my body parts simply don’t know when to quit.”

  Her laughter turned to a moan as he pressed into her. “Kane—”

  “Adjusting, Beth. You don’t mind if I let myself feel you? Part of me still believes this is a dream.”

  She shifted, so she cradled his now hard length. “Better?”

  “Only if you are comfortable with this.”

  “I’m good.”

  He let out his breath, tightened his arm around her waist—then groaned when her fingers found him. She slid back until he slipped inside her. “Bloody hell—”

  “Now I’m better.” She smiled when he cursed under his breath.

  “Vixen.” It was her turn to groan when he pushed in deeper—just enough to leave her wanting more of him, oh God, all of him inside her. “Get some sleep, Beth.”

  “If you need anything during the night, don’t hesitate to wake me.”

  She moved against him, startled by her need, and her bold way of showing him she wanted him. His low growl shot heat through her, and he spread his hand over her stomach, holding her still.

  “You tempt a starving man, love, almost beyond reason.” He kissed her ear, his tongue tracing the edge of her earlobe. It was so erotic, so arousing, and she gave herself up to sensations she always thought were fluff for romance books. “Rest assured, I will take you up on that offer. Repeatedly.”

  To her delighted pleasure, he did. Repeatedly.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mac knew if he was caught sneaking into the lab after hours, he’d probably die for it.

  He did it anyway. Kane wasn’t going to be left hanging because he made a promise to a rat bastard snake.

  It took more than a month to get out from under Harper’s thumb, to get the man to trust him enough to let him breathe on his own for a few hours. Instead of sleeping, he made his way here.

  He left all the lights off, and used the secondary console off to the side of the lab, so anyone looking in wouldn’t see him—at least not right away. He had two items on his list tonight: set up a tracker on Kane and Elizabeth, and find out if anyone had actually traveled into the future using the portal.

  Mac wasn’t about to take Harper’s word on it. If someone had actually managed to do it, he’d find a record of the trip. No matter how deep they tried to bury it.

  “Okay, baby—let’s get this party started.”

  He set the tracker first, since it was the easiest task. Even that took more than two hours before he was satisfied he’d hidden it enough. The only signals would go straight to his handheld, and he disguised them as regular test results—something he’d get anyway.

  The second item was more of a challenge. He didn’t expect to find anything this first round, but it would eliminate places to search next time. If Harper thought a few death threats and a forced promise would stop Matt Macaffrey, he didn’t do his homework.

  When Mac stumbled back to his quarters just before dawn, he hadn’t found any evidence of future time travel.

  What he did find was a list—one Harper obviously thought had been deleted when he took over TimeSearch.

  It was a hit list. And Kane was on it.

  Mac locked his door, lowered himself to the bed, and pulled the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. He hand wrote the list, and buried the document deeper than where he found it.

  His fried brain took a few minutes to grasp the significance of the two different columns of names, but he finally got it.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered.

  Kane wasn’t on the kill list.

  He was on the recruit list.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Once Kane was free, he and Elizabeth quickly fell into a routine. He still trained every morning, but he spent the afternoons huddled over the transport, fiddling with every connection, rewiring what he could. He drew elaborate sketches of the inner workings, and tried different configurations on paper before he recreated them on the transport.

  Several lit up the screen—just long enough to give him hope before it cycled down again. He was starting to think they may have to find a more permanent home here, when more than a month into his frustrating sessions, the screen lit up. This time, the current date flashed across it, and stayed.

  He stood, s
tared at it, waiting for it to disappear again. When it didn’t, he grabbed the transport and ran to find Elizabeth. He knew where she was—in her usual drawing spot, where she would end up more or less frustrated, depending on how her vision was that particular day.

  This would cheer her—and if he could get them home, the machines in his time would heal her.

  Elizabeth hunched over the scroll in her lap and closed her eyes. Her useless, blurred eyes.

  Just when she thought her sight was improving, she had days like today, where she could barely see for the headache. But she was determined to keep going.

  There had been no sign of the killer since Marius was attacked, and she was blindsided. Literally.

  Marius still wanted to keep the investigation going; Kane told her he needed to find some kind of justice for the victims, even if it was only the satisfaction of knowing who had killed them. Once he discovered Elizabeth had been snooping, he allowed her to continue—as long as she gave him anything she found.

  Servius indulged her, by dragging out files from the office in the principia and carrying them to Marius’ office, where she would be much less of a distraction to the men.

  A hand touched her shoulder, pulled her out of her thoughts. “Elizabeth?”

  “I’m fine, Servius. My eyes just need a rest.”

  “We can do this later—”

  “No, I want to finish this last batch. If I rub my nose against the paper, I can see it just fine.”

  Servius laughed, and the sound of it lightened her mood. It was just a bad day; she would have more as her sight slowly healed. Right now, they needed to find a new lead. Every other possibility had gone cold, or hit a dead end.

  And the trip Marius had planned to Londinium was postponed by Appia, who threatened bodily harm if he even thought of leaving.

  Elizabeth heard Servius move to the other side of the office. After examining the rest of the scroll, she put it back, and reached for the next one. Her foot hit a small chest under the desk.

  She felt for it, picked it up, and set it in her lap, brushing her hair over her shoulders. Inside were a number of scrolls with official clay seals on them. The seals were loose, which meant the scrolls had been opened. She unrolled the first one, knowing she wouldn’t be able to read the Latin, but hoping she could recognize something. Even if the translation chip in the transport could do more than translate speech, Kane had it with him. After weeks of immersion in the language, Elizabeth had become proficient enough to hold her own, which gave him more freedom to work on it.