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

by London Casey

  She tasted like the drink they’d shared—potent wine and maybe vodka and something else. All he could think about was having her again. He lifted his lips from her and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed and her lips were plump and flushed from their kiss. The corners of her mouth tilted up in pleasure; that was all he needed. He transferred his grip on her wrists to one hand and admired the way the position made her breasts pull a little more from the corset.

  This time he was taking his time. He leaned down and pulled on one nipple gently with his teeth before he sucked on it hard. She moaned and wiggled under him. If anything he felt harder than before. He’d let her set the pace earlier, now he was going to take things at his speed. He’d never been a demanding lover, but she’d asked him to be. If he followed his urges he’d take her home and tie her to his bed. Of course, he didn’t have a bed, not yet. But when he did she was definitely going to be in it.

  Her spell had gone wrong. This was no imaginary lover. The talking proved it. Her spell had called for a silent lover. This man was flesh and blood, with a pounding heart and a mind of his own. And he had something on his mind right now. He held her wrists tightly above her head. She had no doubt he could hold her down and have his wicked way with her. Of course he wouldn’t have to. She wanted him to take her, in any way he desired. Her magic had done a number on her again.

  The question was, who was he? If her magic hadn’t summoned him, how had he found her? The circle was sacred; a stranger should never have found his way here. And she’d up and told him she wanted him to…her face burned, even as she moaned at the touch of his mouth on her nipple. She’d told a perfect stranger she wanted naughty, demanding, outdoor sex.

  And she wanted it again.

  His free hand traced a line of fire from her throat to her free breast. He lingered there, teasing her until every thought dissipated like the fake smoke from her Halloween cauldron. Her body yearned for one thing only, his cock planted deep inside her. Everything throbbed. What the hell had she done to that potion? She wanted to come again, and again. And he seemed set to join in her desire.

  He let go of her breasts, lifting his lips to her neck where he nibbled and licked his way to her ear. Meanwhile his free hand trailed down to her pussy and stroked the sensitive nub of her clit. She moaned and struggled slightly, not needing to be free necessarily, but wanting to hold on to him while she urged him to take her again.

  She was so dumping that rose wine down the drain. Or maybe not, especially not if it could bring this kind of pleasure…she held her legs open as he thrust his fingers into her sex, probing again for her inner pleasure spot.

  “Want to come again, Sarah?”

  She moaned, but he wanted more from her and she knew it.

  “Tell me what you want. Tell me exactly what you want.”

  “I want…I want you to…”

  “Say it.”

  “I want you inside me. I want you to take me hard.”

  He ran the edge of his thumb over her clit. “More.”

  “I want you to everywhere,” she gasped. “Your tongue, your cock, your fingers.” She groaned. She was saying it again, telling him what she wanted and she had no way to stop. But there was no time for embarrassment. He was pushing inside her again, this time faster, harder. Thrusting strong and hard, just like she’d asked. He kissed her then, plunging his tongue into her mouth, stealing her breath and her thought.

  He’d let go of her wrists and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, hanging on as he took her. He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up with him as he kneeled and she worked with him, riding his thrusts and crying out when he slipped a hand between them to rub the center of her pleasure. Sweat slicked their skins and she wondered how she could have imagined this virile, potent man was a fantasy.

  A second later he slid a finger into the wet skin around her sex from behind. She was drenched and even though she knew what he was going to do next she cried out at the shocking sensation as he pressed a now wet finger up into her ass. He filled her, just as she had asked, everywhere.

  Never had she felt so open. Magic rippled through her, sending waves of power out into the night as she shook with the pleasure of a deep, clenching orgasm.

  Long minutes later, Sarah opened her eyes. She lay alone, wrapped in her blanket in her clearing. The fire was slowly dying, but she could see that her lover had left. She leaned up on an elbow. The music played softer now and the moon had begun to drop. She could still feel traces of magic. Maybe one good thing would come out of the mess she’d made. She’d blown a ton of power out here. Maybe her magic circle would be invigorated for a while.

  She flumped back down on the ground. What did it matter? She couldn’t cast a spell for beans. She’d called up an imaginary lover and got what? Some late night jogger? A horny over-aged trick or treater?

  “Crap.”

  “Meow.”

  Sarah glanced over to meet the glowing eyes of her cat. “Don’t talk to me. You’re the one who started this whole mess, telling me TV was too boring for Halloween.”

  She struggled and sat up. At least he’d had the decency to cover her up and slip away while she’d been knocked out from passion. She couldn’t help it, she grinned. She’d been literally knocked unconscious by an orgasm. Damn. Then she sighed. The best sex in, well, forever, and she had no idea who she’d been with, where he lived, or anything. Bad, Bad, Bad. She was definitely throwing out Granny’s old ingredients.

  She adjusted her corset and stood up. One stocking was rolled all the way down to her ankle—she remembered the kisses that had followed it and shivered. And where the hell had her thong taken off to? She grumbled under her breath. Her mystery man had probably taken it with him as a souvenir. She looked around the clearing.

  “No way am I cleaning this up tonight, Mitska. It can wait and the fire’s almost out. It’ll die out on its own. I am going home and going to bed.”

  She walked over to the iPod and flicked the switch off. The sudden silence seemed deafening, and very lonely. She started to walk toward the path toward her house when something caught her eye. She grimaced. A discarded condom wrapper. But next to that was a piece of paper. She picked it up and took a few steps back to the fire to gain enough light to read it. It was an address, one right on her street. The address of the empty house next door.

  She groaned aloud. She’d had a fling with her new neighbor.

  Barrett hummed and pulled open the fridge door in his new kitchen. It was completely empty save for the bottle of champagne his real estate agent had left for him as a welcome home gift. But that was perfect, exactly what he needed to finish out the night as he got to know the woman he’d just enjoyed the most incredible sex with. “Sarah.” The name felt good on his lips, it would feel even better when he whispered it against her small ear.

  He picked up the flashlight again and headed back out the backdoor, champagne in hand. He didn’t do this sort of thing, had never experienced sex on a first date. He frowned. Not that this had been a date. He licked his lips. He was still semi-hard. He wanted her again. They were definitely going to have a first date, if he had any say in it. He strode out through the shadows toward the path through the woods.

  It seemed to take longer this time to reach the clearing. The woods pulled at him, twice he’d had to yank his shirt free from clawing twigs. Finally he saw the dimming light of the dying fire. He stepped out into the clearing.

  The fire was there, the iPod docking system and the table and glasses. But the girl and the blanket were gone.

  “Shit.”

  He walked over to the table and set the champagne down, adding it to the half empty bottle of vodka and a tall thin bottle of wine, something he hadn’t noticed before. The beautiful goblets were still there. He looked at them with the added light of his flashlight and decided they were antique, and unusual. So was the bottle of wine beside them. He picked it up and examined the label. “Rose wine.”

  “Meow.
”

  Barrett glanced down at the sound and found a pair of glowing green eyes looking back at him. “Great. I don’t need a black cat right now, kitty. I need some good luck for a change.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His brain finally seemed to be clearing from the drink she’d given him, but just the thought of the potent liquor and the reaction they’d both had to it made his cock throb. No way was he letting it end here.

  She had to live nearby—no one would leave glasses like this, or their iPod just lying outside unless they were coming back for it in the morning. If he came back early he would catch her, apologize or something. Sweep her off her feet. Offer to take her on a quick trip toward New Jersey to rescue his furniture? Something.

  “Meow.” The cat seemed to comment on his thoughts. He probably realized they were as lame as he imagined. Barrett picked up the champagne and the vodka, tucking them against his chest along with the bottle of rose wine. No need to leave these out here in case some teens poked their way around in the woods for Halloween. He started for the path and the cat leapt ahead, trotting before him like he was leading the way.

  “I’m just gonna warn you kitty, I don’t have much in the way of cat food at home.”

  The cat’s tail curled in the light of the flashlight and Barrett shook his head. The whole night had been weird. Wonderful, but weird. His digital watch told him the time—nearing midnight.

  A moment later he stepped into the clearing of his back yard. He’d left the back light on at least. In a few strides he walked up to the deck stairs. The hot tub beckoned. He glanced at the cat, then at the bottles in his arms.

  “What the hell.”

  What a night. Sarah groaned and dropped the picnic blanket to the floor just inside her back door. She leaned against the wall. Her body ached in all sorts of wonderful ways. She undid the three hidden front catches on her corset and let the garment fall to join the blanket on the floor. She’d clean it all up in the morning, along with the mess in the woods. She kicked off her heels and pulled off her stockings. The weather was clear; it wouldn’t rain on her iPod system. She’d brought the bag of potion ingredients with her, so she didn’t have to worry about them. She reached for the summer robe she always left hanging near the back door in case she had to answer the door in her pj’s and pulled it on.

  Mid way to tying the robe closed, she stopped. Shit. She’d left the rose wine out there. Who knew what that stuff could do if a stranger picked it up and drank it? Look at what it had done to her. And at least one stranger had found his way into her circle tonight. Her magic must be worse than ever.

  She hung her head. No help for it, she had to go back.

  More than anything, she wanted to go upstairs and crawl into her bed and replay the evening over and over, maybe to the tune of her vibrator’s hum. But much as her family’s witches enjoyed their fun, they also understood the responsibility that came with the power. And they’d drummed it into her head, even if it didn’t seem to click for her sister.

  She finished tying her robe and slid her feet into a pair of rubber duck shoes. She’d slip back to the clearing and her circle and grab the wine, and the vodka too. No sense letting that go to waste. She trudged back out the door to the back yard and headed for the path. She didn’t need any lights, the moon gave her enough and she knew the path well enough to walk it blindfold. In minutes she was back at the scene of the crime.

  The fire had burned down to embers. She gasped as she walked across the boundary of her circle—she really had put some power into it tonight. She’d have some real sizzle for her next few spells. Of course that might not be a good thing, considering how spectacularly awry her magic could go when underpowered. How bad would it be with this kind of energy added to it?

  Glancing around, she came to an abrupt stop. The table was empty, save for her two goblets. The rose wine was gone.

  “Oh, goddess.” Someone had the bottle and she felt certain that she knew who that someone was. Or at least she knew what he looked like and probably where he lived. He must have returned right after she’d left. Why? Looking for another round? A quick zip of interest flared through her. She had to admit, if only to herself, that another round of sex like the last definitely sounded good.

  But now she was going to have to go looking for him. He had a bottle of the goddess only knew what. She was sure now that she’d had time to think about it that the wine must have been bespelled before she opened it. There was no other answer for what had happened. Maybe. She bit her lip. The poor guy was an innocent victim to another magical mess she’d created. She had to save him before he took a swig or two of the wine.

  She walked to the edge of the woods where she’d first seen him. It didn’t really surprise her to find a path there where there hadn’t been one before. She followed it cautiously, and in a few minutes spotted the light from her neighbor’s back deck. She stopped and peered through at the previously empty house. The wide deck could have held a complete patio set and more, but currently it only had one creature comfort—a full sized hot tub. And it wasn’t empty.

  Her fantasy lover reclined inside, his shoulders braced on the edge and his head leaned back. On the edge of the tub sat her vodka, and the wine bottle.

  Sarah edged closer, out of the trees. He didn’t move, not even when she stepped on some twigs. She peered at him and carefully walked to the deck stairs. He still hadn’t moved and she could see in the light of the deck his eyes were closed. Was he asleep? Oh goddess, is he dead? Did he drink the wine and…die? It shouldn’t be dangerous, not at all, at the worst the wine should just be infused with a form of sex magic, but…

  A quietly as possible she walked up the stairs. At the top she took a step close, and another. She could see his chest, his heavily muscled chest, rising and falling steadily. Alive then. She reached for the bottle of wine.

  “You’re welcome to join me.” His baritone voice startled her. Unfortunately, she’d just touched the wine bottle. With a jerk her fingers toppled it over and she watched in horror as it rocked on its base.

  She lunged for it, and missed.

  Chapter Four

  “Hey!” Barrett tried to catch the bottle but it went over, landing hard on its side at the edge of the tub, he’d uncorked it earlier to take a sniff, but he hadn’t tried any; it smelled like flowers. The cork must have still been loose, it flew out as the bottle went down and a good splash of the wine, much more than he’d thought would be in the narrow bottle, flew into the air and dropped into the tub.

  “Oh no, no!” Sarah groaned and snatched at the bottle, righting it before any more could splash out.

  “It’s ok, it’s only wine.” He laughed. The scent of rose petals rose from the water. She still looked upset so he tried to calm her down. She looked fantastic and it was hard to ignore the fact that she looked like she was wearing a robe and nothing else. His cock sprang to attention. “I didn’t tell you my name. It’s Barrett. Barrett McAllister. I just bought this place…” he trailed off. Was it the light or was the water in his hot tub turning pink? And she must have leaned on the controls—he felt…hotter.

  “Why don’t you join me? I want you. Er, I mean I want you to come in.” Barrett stumbled a bit over his words. Like earlier, he felt the urge to forget the niceties. He wanted to pull her into the water, to touch her everywhere, and take her hard. Wanting her was easy enough, controlling the desire to be a brute about it seemed more difficult. Strange.

  He reached out and put his hand over hers on the bottle. Water dripped from his fingers over hers and trailed down the glass. The stuff smelled fantastic. Maybe this was what she’d mixed with the vodka.

  “Maybe you should come out.” Sarah seemed focused on the tiny drips of water touching her hand.

  He stood up. If she wouldn’t come in maybe he would get out and go to her. His cock jutted out above the water and her eyes widened as she took in the sight. He grinned. He worked out, and felt good about it, but it wasn’t
like she hadn’t seen him before. Or touched him before. He left his fingers on hers and reached out with his free hand to touch her cheek. The feel of his wet skin against hers sent a fresh wave of desire through him. Very slowly he dragged a wet thumb over her full bottom lip. Luscious.

  She stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.

  “Come in, Sarah. You left the clearing before I had a chance to get back. I was going to bring you champagne.”

  She shivered. He leaned over the edge of the hot tub, his cock pressing against the smooth plastic edge, and leaned in to kiss her. Her lips parted easily under his questing tongue. She tasted like the wine smelled.

  He pulled the bottle from her limp fingers and broke the kiss to take a swig. Burning liquid poured down his throat and seemed to flow through his body, straight to his loins. He pulled in a gulp of air and offered her the bottle. There was still a swig left in there. Her eyebrows rose in surprise but she didn’t move when he lifted the bottle to her lips. Carefully he tilted it back and she took a sip, but the liquid flowed faster than he’d expected and it trickled down the side of her mouth.

  He set the probably empty bottle on the edge of the tub, his eyes never leaving hers. He felt for and found the tie to her robe and slowly undid it. The satin fell open, exposing the pale skin of her right breast. He leaned in close and kissed the corner of her mouth and then followed the path of the stray bit of wine, running his tongue down her jawline, down the delicate skin of her neck and across the rising curve of her breast. Delicious.

  “Come in with me,” he murmured against her flesh. “I want to get to know you, Sarah. I want to touch you, taste you, and I’m not sure I can stop.”