What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 9)

by Kristine Cayne

  Bugger those kind of thoughts. “You’re disgusted with me,” he murmured.

  “That’s a strong word.” She kept fidgeting but ended up picking up the water bottle he set aside for her. “Baffled is probably closer to the truth. Hire someone to buy you groceries and to clean out your ’fridge if you don’t have the time or the give-a-shit. I know you’re only here a few more weeks, but I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I guess I’d make a home wherever that happens to be.”

  Pensive, he tried to suss out any ulterior meaning to her words but found none. He didn’t treat the women he fucked with disrespect, but he didn’t share this kind of easy intimacy with them either. She managed to bring warmth and a comfortable familiarity wherever she went.

  Everything within him wanted to drive the point home that they weren’t going to be more than what they already were. Just because they’d talk outside of the bedroom didn’t mean they were building a foundation of something more. Pointing it out would make him a dobber. So, he didn’t, but it didn’t dim the unease. Do what you do best. He grunted at the silent reminder, picked up the cup of ice and water bottle.

  She followed him without another word. By the time they’d made it to the room, she’d scattered her clothes in his flat. He put down the water and cup on the sideboard next to the bed, unbuckled his belt, dropped out of his pants and then underwear.

  “Any other fantasies you want to tell me before we get started?” he asked.

  “Actually, I’m drawing a blank at the moment.”

  Since her gaze hadn’t left his dick, he could only smile. “That’s all right. I’ve got something in mind. Get on the bed.”

  “Arse up?” she said with a teasing glint in her eyes.

  His dick jerked at the eager tone. “Not right now. Lay down. Relax.”

  She climbed on the bed and tossed off some pillows in her way. “I never understood the need for this many pillows.”

  “They could come in handy later.”

  She stilled but met his gaze. “I’m starting to think you say those things to screw with my head.”

  “Does it work?”

  “Yes.”

  His only reply was to grab the cup of ice and shake a cube into his mouth. Her gaze narrowed on his face and if she had intended to relax, the action was lost the moment she tensed and sat up from the pillows. Her brown skin glowed from the sudden flush. She was beautiful and lush. He crunched down on the cube and climbed over her onto the bed. Without having to say a word, she spread her legs wider and raised her hands above her head to give him better access to all of her.

  Had Joce done this before? The thought twisted in his gut and Ian had to breathe through his nose for a moment to get past the unexpected rush of jealousy. His hands fisted thinking about another man doing this with her, for her. And Jocelyn loving it. He sucked in more air around the ice, letting it cool the sudden temper.

  Her breath caught. “What?”

  Ian dipped his head instead of answering and outlined her areola with the ice. The effect was instantaneous. The dark-tipped nub hardened and she moaned, back arching up, thrusting her breasts closer. He cupped the soft globes and brought them together and teased her with his tongue until the heat of his mouth and her, melted the ice.

  Jocelyn’s thighs squeezed his and the jealousy fled. Didn’t matter who came before him, she was with him like this now. She was doing these things with him.

  The melted ice dripped down over her breasts and onto the comforter. Wet and full, her tits practically begged him to bend down and do more. He began at the curve of her left breast and licked away all the remnants of water. She whimpered, but guided his head to any place he missed. He would have smiled at her but she was touching him, moaning for him. Almost enough to do him in.

  When he’d lapped all of the left over water, Ian pulled back to admire his handy work. Her nipples glistened in the soft light and every pant made them jiggle just so. Her eyelids were low, her skin flushed and she was open wide for him…Ian was on the brink of coming seeing her like that. To get his head back in the game, he reached for the cup and took in another piece of ice. Time to really undo her.

  Except, Jocelyn’s gaze lit with some secret thought and a seductive smile tugged at her lips. “I have a fantasy now.”

  He bit down on the ice hard enough to hurt as her hand crept down her torso, lower, lower until she cupped her mound. Her knuckles brushed his cock hanging heavy between them. His teeth clenched around the cube while she petted her pussy. Pre-come dripped from the tip of his dick and moistened her hand. She moaned, stopped and ran her tongue over her knuckles to taste him then reached back down to touch herself.

  All he could do was watch and try to breathe, because she started with one finger and then worked herself up to two, sliding in and over every contour of her sex. He shifted to end the torture of her hand bumping his dick whenever she pulled out far enough. Suddenly, her hand stilled and she met his gaze for a moment and then looked away.

  “What?” he bit out.

  She worried her lip and her breathing sped up. “In my fantasy, when I do this…he’s—”

  “What?” The word rasped from his throat.

  “I’m sucking him,” she whispered.

  Ian shut his eyes. He thought her fucking innocent and inexperienced.

  “Never mind,” she added in a hurried manner when he didn’t answer right away.

  “Just give me a moment. You caught me off guard.”

  He had to get control or her fantasy would end as soon as it started. Killing time, he adjusted the pillows around her head. She watched him, teeth leaving crescent shapes in her bottom lip. He knew what she needed and Jocelyn didn’t question him as he positioned her. He sat back on his haunches at her head, straddling one of the pillows so he’d be within licking and sucking reach.

  Still, he hesitated, because this was not how he imagined the night would play out. No complaints, but her shyly, whispered words kept raking over some raw part of him. It left him feeling off-kilter again and out of control. She wanted him in bed, because that’s what he could provide. He would as soon as—

  She didn’t wait for him to make up his mind, but turned her head and licked the tip of his cock. Again, pre-come rose to the slit and they both moaned when she lapped it up. He bent forward, buried his fingers in the soft strands of her hair and held her still. Taking himself in his hand, he traced her waiting mouth, teasing her—fuck, himself—with the action.

  She made a greedy sound in the back of her throat and he fed her more of his dick. Her mouth was hot and wet. He wanted to rise from his haunches just to fuck her throat, but held back because this was her fantasy. Hers to control and take as much of him as she wanted. Watching her mouth on him was more than enough to get him off, but he glanced down at her hand. Two fingers buried deep.

  Fuck.

  She pulled back, licked her lips and murmured, “More.”

  His fingers fisted in her hair and he rocked into her mouth. A steady thump pounded in his ears as she sucked him. His muscles tensed so tight they trembled. He couldn’t come yet, but, shit, he needed to.

  Jocelyn pulled away, shut her eyes and moaned. She stroked herself into an orgasm, took a second and brought her mouth back to Ian. She sucked more of him, moaning harder. The sound vibrated up his spine. He trembled. A few more deep sucks and once more she turned her head away, coming again.

  She panted, flushed and met his gaze. “Fuck me. Fuck my mouth.”

  He rose, gripped his cock in one hand and fed her more. He waited to see just how much she could take. One stroke, two, a moan and she took him all. He groaned her name, unable to tear his gaze away from the erotic sight. One stroke, two and he was shuddering, both hands fisted in his hair and his cum spurted down her throat. Either he’d gone blind or had closed his eyes. His mind couldn’t process anything but the sound of her muffled moans.

  He pulled out of her mouth, shuddered again and had to clasp a hand around the tip
of his dick because it felt like he’d come again. She sighed and met his gaze, skin flushing deeper when she did. Ian had to shut the image away because he was one arm twitch from flipping her on her stomach and fucking her into oblivion. Yes, pound into her because his dick was still rock hard.

  He hadn’t felt that way since he had his first taste of pussy as a teen. He could go for hours then. So, he kept his eyes closed, hand encircling the head of his cock until the urge felt less volatile. She wanted raw, animal sex, but that didn’t mean he should act barbaric just to see if she loved it.

  When he finally could look at her and not pounce, she wore a seductive smile. “You brought the ice and was trying for seduction,” she said. “I had to balance the scales.”

  His fingers were still tangled in her hair. He extricated himself from the position. “I’d apologize, but fuck if I’m not grateful for the solution.”

  “Blame all the degrees on my wall. Made me smart.”

  He fell beside her on the bed and tried to slow his racing heart, but she shifted and straddled him. “What’s next?”

  “Jesus,” he cursed. “I was trying to give you a rest for a bit.”

  She laughed. “Maybe later. I’m feeling insatiable.”

  He grinned. “Told you to eat before.”

  She leaned forward, hair tickling his jawline, and she nipped his ear. “Just did.”

  Ian groaned, flipped Jocelyn onto her back, scrambled for a condom and stopped fighting the urge to fuck her into oblivion.

  When they were done, she thanked him and left his apartment. At least, she didn’t creep out while he slept. For that much he was grateful…and bothered by that asinine emotion. Something to worry about later, because as soon as he laid back in bed after showing her out, he dropped off into a sex-induced coma.

  Chapter Five

  Jocelyn watched Ian take up the mannequin’s leg with precision and fix the stockings. It took delicate touches to adjust the silk in just the right way for the time period. Usually, creepy work to see the dead eyes and even deader limbs, but under his tutelage, the work felt erotic somehow. All Jocelyn could see and practically feel was his hands working up her calf, one hand gripped around her thigh.

  Maybe the eroticism had more to do with the dressing than undressing. Posing the display exactly as he imagined. He’d done that to her more than a few times over the past week. Face against the headboard, back curved, one leg up while the other was pointed in another direction. He was practically giving lessons from the Kama Sutra playbook.

  And no matter how satisfied she felt afterward, Jocelyn wanted more, which was why she always left before she asked, probably begged, to stay for a little while longer until there was no more need.

  “Bastarnt things,” Ian muttered.

  He had three more mannequins to go. The cursing would continue for a while and only worsen. And get more Scottish.

  She smiled at him. “You can wait for Marcus to come and help you do that.”

  “I’ve no manicure to worry about. I won’t be waiting on an intern to do what I can do. What we can do.”

  She gripped the clipboard and sighed. She couldn’t wipe the way he looked right before he came out of her mind—lids low, face flushed and jaw clenched. Or the way he looked right before he growled and did something totally caveman to her. Or the fact every night that week, when she looked in his refrigerator, there was fresh food. Jocelyn was doing her best not to get caught up in the stuff outside of the bed but it was damn hard not to. He was the expert, but she sure as shit couldn’t ask him how to go about these things. And all of her friends had settled down and had never really done this. Not even her sister, Kimberly, who had found a nice guy and married a few years back.

  There had to be a way to test the waters in order to find out how to keep fanciful longings and dumb needs under wraps. He’d made it clear it would never be more than fucking. At the time, Jocelyn hadn’t thought she could want more from him. Then again, she’d believed the kind of man who’d go for this sort of fling was heartless, cold, lacking, aloof…so far from Ian who bought fresh food just for her.

  She blew out a breath and then her mind caught on a thought. Taking in the mannequin and the time period they were setting up, the idea picked up speed. “How did men during this time get their jollies off without ending up married?”

  He flicked a glance her way. “Carousing?”

  “Hmm.”

  He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Paid for it. Picked up communicable diseases along the way while they dined on the common sins of man. Many people saw it as God’s way to punish them. I’m sure there’s plenty of undocumented ways they got around that. Rich men had mistresses. If he paid for her to be his, then he wouldn’t have to worry about what he was bringing home after lying with her.”

  Sounded about right. “And the fact men have always been possessive.”

  His brows lifted as though conceding to her argument. “My point is humans have always found a way to have sex.” He chuffed and stood, looking at his handiwork. “There you go, you troublesome lass. Had less of a headache taking off a bra for the first time. More of a reward, though.”

  Jocelyn laughed at the unexpected insight. “Really?”

  He glanced her way and chuckled. “Aye. Now we can do the dress. The stays should be easier with the both of us cinching ’er. The interns did a fair job repainting.”

  Not done with the questions, she stepped lightly around the issue. “America always seemed like the dirtier, more rebellious cousin, but it could be my patriotism showing.”

  “Where’d you think they learned it from? Ach. Have you ever met a truly European woman? All the Puritans trekked West and left all the fun on the East.”

  “That’s horrible,” she said, but knew it, technically and historically, to be true.

  The things still harped on and debated here had long since been settled in more modern countries. Maybe that’s how he was able to do what he did to her, in and out of bed, and not feel a stirring of more. She didn’t feel the sudden urge to marry him, but, the lines between sex and emotion felt blurred. At the end of the month, after the champagne lost all flavor from the grand opening of the exhibition, she’d miss the sex…and him.

  Dammit.

  “You’re puzzling. What is it?”

  The lie sprang to her lips with ease. “Professional curiosity. Egypt’s my area of expertise. Pretty much all of the inspiration for the world’s literature. How they handled sex usually ended in someone being murdered. Sometimes hordes of people.”

  Tenderly, he pulled the replica dress out of the box and draped it over the model. The silk laces fluttered down and he gestured to her. “Adjust the front and I’ll do the stays.”

  Having done this for too many different countries, for too many years, Jocelyn helped him over-dress a woman. A fake woman, but the intent was the same. Cover her up so the man wouldn’t lose his mind. Nothing attractive could be seen or else the beast that slept within the man would be unleashed. Bottle up everything that made her wonderful and human and woman.

  They never talked about what they did in bed while at work, but the frustration bubbling right under the surface refused to settle down. While her fingers adjusted the bust line, her mind raced. Ian had never made a question off limits. He’d never judged her. He actively fed her curiosity.

  “Ask.” He tugged the stays and without direction, she straightened out the material in the front. “Ask whatever question that has you looking like a vein might pop right out of your neck.”

  Jocelyn opened and closed her mouth, and then lost her nerve. “Why is it that men historically have always been able to enjoy sex without consequences?”

  “Without consequences? Makes the whole process sound like drudgery. The better question is why should there be any? We humans enjoy it. Is it hurting anyone when you have it? Are both or all parties consenting? If so, then who gives a shite?”

  Here she was starting to wrap what they were ex
periencing in pretty bows and flowers because it was spectacular. It had to be much more than chemistry. She wasn’t foolish to think sex couldn’t simply be sex, but it was naïve to think what they had was more than that.

  Save face. She had to. “Never thought of it that way, but you’d think with all that was at stake, it’d be dangerous to throw caution to the wind.”

  “Just goes back to my premise: Humans enjoy sex. Like it even more when it has a sense of danger to it. Even married couples try to find that spark. Again and again.”

  That comment threw her. She took him in. “You know married couples?”

  “Plenty of family experiencing dry rot in the brain.” Ian smiled.

  If anyone else had used the same tone, Jocelyn would have said it sounded like longing. But it was Ian. A man with rules about sex that discouraged emotional entanglements on the other person’s part, never his, because sex was only sex. For him there was nothing confusing about liking the person outside the bedroom.

  It all ran together in her mind and ramped up the frustration until Jocelyn reminded herself of sinful, decadent desserts. Ian fed her sweet tooth. He wasn’t chicken fried steak and potatoes topped with sour cream—warm, filling and just right. No point in wanting the latter, she already had indulged on that kind of man most of her adult life.

  So…“Is that your intellectual thesis?” She tried to joke with him, but wasn’t sure if she pulled it off.

  “Aye. Hitching yourself to one person for the rest of your life and having wee babes that look cute and gurgle. Pretty much all that babes are good for. Seems to be the only explanation is madness.”

  “Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t.” She shrugged. “I can’t judge.”