What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4)

by Selena Kitt

“Because I don’t care to have the phone to my head. Now what’s going on?” Cami says.

  “Well, we were finally able to pick up a signal from Tristan’s cell phone,” Trinity says.

  Cami rolls her eyes. It’s actually kind of comical the way the color of her eye disappears altogether. With a sly smile and a slight chuckle, she tells Trinity, “You and Mick should go into the tracking business. That didn’t take very long, considering he only just turned it on. I’m assuming that you’re calling me, instead of Tristan, because it was traced to the Tahiti area, where I just so happen to be, am I correct?”

  Trinity laughs. “How do you know that he only just turned it on?”

  “Because I’m looking right at him.” She smiles at me, her steel blue eyes warm and liquid. “Ironically, he happened to step into my suite as I cut you off from our last phone call. As strange as this sounds, he bought me a drink last night with no clue who I was. So it’s all worked out for the best.”

  Trinity burst out laughing. “Apparently Tahiti is the place for the wealthy-in-hiding. Good morning, Tristan.”

  “Hi, Trinity.” My voice is deadpan. I’m not really sure how to handle the whole situation, nor how to tell Trinity about it. I guess I just have to jump into it. “Listen, Trinity, I would imagine that here at some point today or tomorrow you’re going to start getting massive amounts of phone calls from our favorite little magazine.”

  “I had a feeling,” she says as she lets out a deep sigh. “Does this have anything to do with why Layla has been blowing up my and Vincent’s phones?”

  Wow, Layla must be completely desperate. Either she is looking for me or trying to get Trinity to stop her story. “You got it.” I almost smiled. Trinity is a true genius at what she does. “You haven’t spoken with her, have you?”

  “No, I have this rule about not fraternizing with obnoxious girlfriends, and she’s top of that list,” Trinity says.

  “Listen, Layla was kind enough to give me some advance notice on some things that are more or less coming up to bite her in the ass. More so her than me, other than the fact that I’m going to be portrayed either as the brokenhearted lover or the idiot that should have known better. Either way is fine by me.” I pause, and of course Trinity, being who she is and doing what she does, is about a mile and half ahead of me.

  “Let me guess, she’s been cheating and the paparazzi have more than enough proof to publish a story? Well, Tristan, you know damn well we’ll stop this story. Or at least delay it as long as possible—”

  “No!” I nearly shout. “Don’t. Do not stop this story. Look, this story is going to completely destroy Layla, and I am not at all opposed to letting it happen—”

  “But Tristan,” she cut me off. “I cannot let her attempt to ruin you like this.”

  “Trinity, that is absolutely not the point.” I let out a long, hard, ragged breath. I have no choice but to let this spill out all over the table. “Look, she has a very long life lesson coming at her. I want to be disassociated with her as fast as possible. Because her life over the next several months is going to be hell enough as it is.”

  I’m ready to go mad, and at this point, I need to get it all on the table. So here goes nothing.

  “Okay here is the bottom line of what is happening. Tuesday at the premiere Layla told me that pictures of her sleeping with the producer of her current project had been leaked to Entertainment Now, who responded by sending her copies of the pictures. She tried to tell me that it wasn’t what it looked like in the pictures. But when she showed me cell phone image copies, I’ll be damned if it wasn’t a goddamn orgy.”

  I pause to let it all soak in. On the other end of the line Trinity’s letting loose a string of profanities no person should really have to hear. Once she quiets, I continue. “Before you start asking questions, let me finish, please.” I take another deep breath. “This whole thing happened about seven or eight weeks ago, after the final wrap of the filming. I guess it was their idea of a wrap party. Many of the faces in the images are recognizable. The images are grainy cell phone images, but close enough to make out the producer, two additional actors in the movie, and several of the film crew. All in all there appeared to be nine men and Layla.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ!” I look up in shock at Cami. She’s white as a ghost and has this almost murderous glare on her face.

  I raise my hand and with my index finger I gesture for her to come to me. She needs to know that this is really okay. Without hesitation, she stands straight up and comes over to me, bringing her phone. I slide myself back in the chair and pat my leg. She smiles and then wiggles her way between my legs. I begin rubbing her shoulders.

  God, her skin is soft, warm, and perfect.

  My hand still on Cami’s back, I pick up where I left off. “So then Layla surprises me by demanding that I fix her little problem. I refused and she got angry with me. She thought that I would just drop everything and do whatever it takes to keep it quiet. I did think about it for about a tenth of a second before I decided that it wasn’t my mess. She made her bed and she needs to lay in it until the storm blows over. I suggested that she take the pictures to all of the men in them and ask them to cover her ass and her career. No doubt they all would have been more than willing to do so, given their own relationship statuses.”

  I quickly realize that Trinity needs to know all of it if she’s going to be able to deal with the press. I look at Cami and silently mouth, “I’m sorry.” She is instantly puzzled, cocking her head to the side and raising an eyebrow. I half smile in reassurance as I am about to drop the last bomb.

  “Listen, guys, before you go flying off the handle at me, I had nothing to do with this. But in an attempt to get me to protect her from all of this, she told me that she is pregnant.” Cami stiffens, and Trinity’s gasp can be heard through the speaker phone. “Before you guys get all ‘Holy shit’ on me, it’s not mine. The last time that she and I had any type of sexual contact was some time ago. So I know, without a doubt, that this is a result of her infidelity. Which of course leads me to believe that she has no clue who the father is, and telling me about it was no doubt an attempt to get me back and convince me to protect her.”

  The wave of relief that washes over Cami is palpable. She smiles tenderly at me. From her reaction I know that she is glad the secrets are out and on the table, and in a way so am I.

  “Ultimately, the last bomb is what caused me to walk away and sent me running to Tarah. No doubt she has deluded herself into thinking that it’s mine because that is the easiest and safest way for her. She wants nothing more than to try to continue to drag me along with her.” Man, this all sounds so bad. But dammit, I’m tired and I don’t want to deal with this any longer today. “Look, I know it is not mine, and as soon as it’s possible to have a paternity test done, I will be first in line to do so. I will not let her infidelity continue to ruin my life and have her wreaking havoc on my career.”

  “Cami,” Trinity says after a moment’s pause. “Is there any reason you feel we should not allow this story to run?”

  Cami speaks softly but firmly, the authority in her voice astonishing. “Trinity, I think that it’s in the best interest of all that are involved and that Tristan has a point. Layla is obviously trying to use Tristan and his influence to squash this story for her own benefit. If the story is stopped, or even delayed, she will eventually get caught up in something like this again and destroy her own career.” She pauses, and I can practically see the wheels in her head turning. “Is there a way that we can cut this story by announcing that Tristan and Layla have split?”

  Hm, I hadn’t even thought about that. If we announce a split between Layla and me, can we really pull the heat away from me?

  Cami continues, “Do we have any idea when the last time they were spotted together was? I know that they arrived at the premiere separately last Tuesday.”

  Has she been Googling me? The thought makes me smile. She was checking up on me. I’m impres
sed.

  “I’m not sure when they were last spotted together,” Trinity says. “They have both been working separately from each other for some time. Are we saying that we want to try and backdate a breakup?”

  Cami looks at me to see what I think. I nod, and she continues, “If it’s possible, I think it would be best. This way we can wipe Tristan’s name from any association with this story. We can spin it so that her little escapade is the reason for their breakup. See what you can do on that. If we can’t work it out then maybe we can come up with a different plan, but for the time being, let’s try and attack this before it attacks us.”

  “Wow, Cami, I think that it’s time you stepped out of non-active CEO status. You’re good, girl!” Trinity is laughing. “You’re going to give me a run for my money. Tristan, what do you think?”

  I think about it for a moment before finally speaking again. “If we can take some of the attention off me with our own story of a split between us, then let’s go with it. But please let’s make sure that it’s a viable story before we run away with it. It might even be better to wait until the magazines start calling. You could just play dumb about the photos and say that Layla and I broke up.”

  I realize I’m still rubbing Cami’s back. She looks at me, smiles, and for some unknown reason, I feel a strong urge to hug, hold, and kiss her until her lips are red and raw. But for now, I settle for kissing her shoulder. As I pull away, she reaches up and cups my face in her right palm. I lean into it, wanting all of her hand pressed against my face. I reach up and cup her face in both my hands, using my thumb to wipe away the tears that have escaped her eyes.

  Trinity’s voice interrupts the moment, and our hands fall away from each other’s faces. “That’s not a bad idea. All right, Tristan, we’re all over it. We will let the magazines come to us, and go from there. I’ll email you any questions we have and get in touch if it’s an emergency.”

  “No. I won’t promise that I’ll be available. In fact I’m going to turn off my phone. There were over ninety missed calls from Layla and people from her staff when I turned it on today, and I refuse to be bombarded with more of their bullshit. If you need to reach me then call Cami. She knows where to find me.”

  “Fair enough,” says Trinity.

  Cami is sitting on my lap, just staring at me. “All right, guys, we’ll be in touch,” I say. When the goodbyes are said, Cami reaches over to the phone to press the end button, then turns it off completely. I turn to Tyson, who is standing silently in the corner. “Go take a walk, my man. I’ll be here for a while.”

  Cami stiffens. “Oh hell, I forgot he was even here.” She laughs. “Thank you, Tyson.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am. And Tristan, you know how to reach me.” Tyson leaves the suite, and just like that, I’m alone with Cami.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cami

  I’m pretty sure that I’ve never truly wanted to be with anyone more than I want to be with Tristan right this minute. I want to be able to wipe away his sadness, his frustrations. Whatever it is that he can take from my body, I want to give it willingly.

  Jeez, Cami, some things never change.

  “So, Ms. Enders,” Tristan whispers gently in my ear as he continues to gently rub my back. “Now that you know the truth about why I’m hiding in Tarah, what is it that you’re thinking about so hard?”

  “Well…” I pause, not really sure how to say what I want to say to him. But at this point I don’t think that words are going to express it right.

  Cupping his face between my hands I bring my lips to his and I kiss him. He stiffens, but then relaxes almost instantly. Our lips begin to move and dance. I’m pulling him in so close, waiting for my opportunity to deepen our kiss and place my tongue along his. He brings his hands back up to cup my face, mirroring my gesture… That’s it; I’m done for. I gasp and he beats me to the punch. His tongue enters my mouth, seeking mine.

  My head is spinning, my breathing shallow. I can’t hardly breathe and I don’t care. I am kissing Tristan Michaels!

  After a moment of intense kissing, he slowly pulls away, kissing me with little pecks as he does. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to stop, but I can tell that he is trying to catch his breath. I smile as he continues his peck kisses, about ten in all. Then he lies back in the chair and closes his eyes. I start to chew on the barbell in my tongue, a nervous habit I have. I’m trying to decide what to do when he grabs my upper arm, smiles, and says to me. “Come here, beautiful.”

  I smile and blush – of course because I’m your typical blushing fool – and lean in against his right shoulder. He wraps his right arm around me, holding me close. I can hear his pounding heart against my ear. I bring my right hand up and lay it over his heart. “This is nice.”

  “I have not felt this comfortable in a long time.” I can’t see his face but I can hear that he’s smiling. I lift my head slightly to look. Yup, he is smiling all right. He starts to run his fingers through my hair.

  “So tell me something… Why the blue and black hair?” He chuckles and continues to stroke my hair.

  I giggle. “Why the dragon?” He laughs. I say, “I don’t know, different. It used to be blond and pink, blond and blue, purple, you name it. I am not the conventional type, as if my tattoos, tongue and nipple piercings aren’t proof enough.” I laugh. “I have more. A lot more. You just haven’t seen it all yet.” Just then he brings his hand down from the top of my head, through my long, black and blue hair, between my shoulder blades.

  “No bra eh?” He smiles.

  “Nope. Own them, but rarely wear them.”

  He smiles wider, his hands continuing their journey down my spine. About two inches below where a bra would normally be, he finds a round platinum ring with a small ball holding it together. “What is this?” he whispers softly.

  I smile. It’s one of my pride and joy pieces of artwork. “That is a surface piercing. There’s another one about four inches to the right.” His hand finds and follows the leather thong that connects the two piercings.

  “You…you have a corset?” His voice is warm, husky, filled with wanting.

  I smile, nearly giggle. “That would be an understatement. Would you like to see the whole thing?”

  He doesn’t reply immediately, but continues to fondle the leather thong that runs between the piercings.

  I have twenty-four piercings on my back, twelve on each side of my spine. There is also a tattoo that the piercings are worked into that takes the shape of a laced up corset in black and purple.

  Finally he smiles and says, “I…I would love to see it.”

  I sit up and reach for the hem of my t-shirt, then wonder whether I should just take the whole thing off. No doubt he’s going to want the whole effect of the work. So I stand up and go for the waist of my shorts. The tattoo and the corset extend all the way to about an inch above the crack of my ass, so I have to lower my shorts to be able to show him the whole thing.

  He inhales sharply. But it’s in reaction to my shorts starting to fall and not because of what he sees; I know the t-shirt is doing a great job of covering my back and butt.

  Once I get the shorts low enough to show off the back, I leave them there, nothing exposed yet. Then go back to my t-shirt. I turn around to face him. The first thing I notice is his rock-hard cock straining against his shorts. I smile big, and my eyes follow the contours of his body to his face. He is smiling in anticipation, his eyes locked on my hands, waiting to see what I will do. Slowly I lift the back of the shirt high enough so that the entire piece in the back will be visible. I close my eyes and slowly turn around.

  I know the moment that the art comes into view. His breathing speeds up, deep and breathy, then comes a “Sweet Jesus!” At this point I am all smiles, feeling a surge of appreciation for my girl X. She is the best tattoo artist and body piercer on the planet. She and I have spent a lot of time together. Every ounce of work on my body is hers and hers alone.

  I feel his fin
gers graze my back, tracing the outside of the piece, sending goose bumps all over my body. My nipples harden and strain against the barbells. They’re so hard and tight I feel like I’m going to snap the platinum rods. A moan escapes my lips. Then both his hands are on me, caressing, kneading their way up my back. He grabs my t-shirt and slowly starts to lift it up.

  My nerve endings are on fire, aching for his touch.

  “Let go baby-girl,” he says. I do as he asks, and he starts to pull my t-shirt up. “Arms up. I’m taking this off.” I smile and comply, lifting my arms over my head. He stands up, bringing my shirt with him. “My God, you are beautif—” His breath catches. No doubt the rest of my back has finally registered in his mind. “—ful. Absolutely beautiful.”

  He releases my t-shirt and it falls to the floor. His hands come up to my shoulders, where my quarter sleeves start, then slowly he moves them across my back, lightly tracing the fairy wings that come together between my shoulder blades. He continues over to my arms and down my sides. His breathing is rough, ragged, and his voice comes to me husky and breathy. “Jesus, Cami, you’re so beautiful.”

  His hands starts to move around to my front, tickling my belly. I long to feel them on my breasts, toying with the barbells through my nipples. “Turn around for me, please, Cami?”

  I smile. I’ve known all along that one day X’s genius was really going to pay off, and this moment is it. I’ve never had anyone react to my body art the way that Tristan is, and suddenly all of the pain of getting pierced, the healing process after getting new ink, and all the time spent in X’s chair and shop is paying off in this one reaction.

  Tristan

  Sweet Jesus, I’ve died and gone to heaven. The artwork is fantastic, and all the tattoos are linked in some fashion, either by color or overall design. Like me, she’s spent a lot of time shopping for an artist that wasn’t just chosen at random. The ink work is intricate and beyond anything I thought was even possible in tattoo form. And they completely complement her body shape and skin tone. Cami wears her tattoos, not the other way around.