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

by Kristine Cayne

  “You should know I wasn’t … uh, myself last night,” she continued. “Rarely am at night. I recently separated from my husband…”

  Mark jumped slightly at the mention of a spouse. “Oh,” he sounded hurt, “sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes I might have a drink … or twelve.” Connie glanced nervously at the bedroom door, hoping Darla wasn’t listening to the lie. She didn’t need Darla believing she drank alone. Darla already thought she was crazy.

  “And apparently I did something to encourage you,” Connie added. More than that, she realized. A kiss resulted from encouragement. Butt naked resulted from a full-court press worthy of the Chicago Bulls in their heyday.

  “Drinking.” Mark looked away suddenly, as if ashamed of something.

  The sheet pooled to the floor, revealing a fully-clothed Connie, hands on her hips. “What?” she demanded.

  Mark lifted a shoulder in a weak shrug and crossed his legs to hide his cock. Why do that unless he thought it threatened by an angry woman’s heel? “Well,” he dragged the word out for several syllables, “I’ll admit I thought you might have had a nip of something last night…”

  “Something? Did you come up here in the middle of the night? What for?”

  “No, I turned in early. You woke me up with your running up and down the stairs, babbling incoherently.” Mark rose from the bed and bent forward, scraping up a discarded pair of boxers. Connie twitched inwardly at the graceful lines of his body.

  “I left my room to check on you, and you were talking crazy, like your tongue was twisted.”

  Connie grimaced. “When was this?”

  “Bit after midnight, I guess. I don’t know exactly.”

  Not long after she hit Go! and did not stop, and collected two hundred orgasms.

  Mark swiped a T-shirt from a hidden pocket in the discarded comforter. Still naked, he clutched the garments and shook them in her direction in an almost accusatory manner. “When your tongue wasn’t twisting letters around, it was too busy poking my tonsils.” Mark waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Among other things.”

  “What did we do?” The words were separated by mere seconds.

  “What didn’t we do?” Mark challenged. “That list is shorter.”

  Connie’s insides turned to stone; her blood cooled to ice. What happened in DoMINion was consensual, but she never considered what her Min counterpart would do in her place while out here. Technically she couldn’t be mad at Mark for anything he did with Min Connie, yet she couldn’t help but be embarrassed by the situation. “Get out.” Connie widened the front door and pointed the way for Mark.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I invited you, apparently, and now I’m showing you the door. You’re in, you’re out, and I’ll be happy when you’re gone.”

  “Well, can I at least…”

  “Now!”

  “Okay, jeez.” The anger in her voice spurred Mark out of her bedroom and down the short hallway to the living room. Still naked, the blond hunk sauntered past a shocked Darla to the exit, his shirt and boxers draped over his shoulder. His bravado disturbed Connie, but maybe that was the whole point of it. If she could be so brazen as to throw a naked man out of her home, he could retaliate by not being bothered.

  “Well, you know where I’ll be if you want more,” Mark said in passing. “And I have plenty more to go around.” The comment seemed to be directed at Darla as well.

  “You would actually come back here, with Connie throwing you out butt naked?” Darla asked.

  Mark shrugged. “Not the first time it’s happened. And, you know what they say: crazy in the head, crazy in the bed. Personally, I like those odds, and I’m willing to take my chances.”

  “Out!” Connie hollered, standing back to give him room, and Mark obliged with an air kiss. Connie tried not to watch those tight, delicious buns retreat, knowing how quickly her body would betray her irritation by aching for his return. As it was now, her nipples peaked against the stiffness of her bra, scraping against the silk cups as her chest heaved.

  Connie could not resist showing off for Darla by marching to the foyer and shouting Mark away as he ambled down the stairs. “Just so you know, we are out of sugar, so don’t bother asking!” Inwardly, she sighed at the lameness of her stance. Yeah, you certainly told him, didn’t you?

  Mark didn’t dignify the parting shot with a response, but sauntered into his unlocked apartment and quietly shut the door. His disappearance revealed the small, blue hatchback idling just beyond the stairs, and the catatonic witness at the wheel.

  Connie’s heart stopped. The air escaped her lungs as she stared back at Aaron, then watched his car suddenly screech out of the lot.

  Darla blocked the exit, juggling stacks of papers in one arms as she pushed a fist full of keys into Connie chest. “No” she insisted. “Make the call.”

  “I’m fine.” Connie elected not to resist too much, lest Darla lose her grip. Her friend didn’t need all of her graded essays to spill across the outer deck and flutter in the wind toward the parking lot. “I’m not sick. I’m perfectly capable of going to work today.”

  “No, you’re not.” Darla hugged the papers to her chest. Connie could see for the first time that her roommate’s eyes flashed with concern rather than anger or frustration. “You’re going to spend the whole day worrying about that damned game and your students are going to think you’ve lost it.”

  “And you know I’ve already lost it,” Connie challenged. “You just don’t want everybody else to know.”

  “I never said that,” Darla scoffed. “Just think of this as a mental health day. Lord knows teachers with overcrowded classes deserve a few.” In a move that surprised Connie, Darla edged past her into the living room and stacked her work on the desk. She took the chair and booted the computer.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Setting up the game for you,” Darla said as she loaded DoMINion. “You’re going to take the day off today and play the game. Nothing else.” She glanced back at Connie, her expression serious. “You have a contingency lesson plan in case of absence, right? A reading assignment or an essay?”

  “What? Yeah, I can call it in. I have a regular sub, and she knows I have papers on file.” A perfunctory check of the apartment assured Connie she hadn’t slipped back into DoMINion, or some other strange alternate universe. How could this behavior be coming from the very woman who decried DoMINion, and earlier wanted to pitch the computer out the window?

  Darla seemed to sense the unasked question hanging in the air. “Well, it’s clear advising you to cut back on this game isn’t working.” She carefully rose and grabbed her things. “When its play starts to affect how you live and who you sleep with…” She cut her gaze toward Connie’s bedroom, “something needs to be done.”

  “Mark’s not coming back up here, to stay or visit,” Connie assured. “You don’t have to worry about that.” The thought came fleetingly to see if Mark’s profile could be deleted, but she worried about how that would affect real life. What if Mark died as a result? She might be crazy, but she was no murderess.

  Darla ignored her. “The only other thing I can think of doing is to have you play this game non-stop, all day, until you get sick of it. Like when I was younger and would get a new record. I’d play it to death that first day and never want to look at it again afterward.” She moved closer to Connie and patted her shoulder. “I don’t know if the things you say are real or just coincidence, but I don’t like what’s happened to you these past few days.”

  “I’m sorry,” Connie said, and she meant it. She couldn’t, though, pretend that DoMINion’s coincidental occurrences were all in her head. Every click of the mouse on the game panel affected her world. When she hit Go! she went into the game, and interacted with the Mins. She wondered if Darla understood the enormity of her actions—if a few hours in front of the computer resulted in bone-shattering orgasms for Connie, what would an entire day do? Would hurric
ane season come early to Virginia Beach, and wash away the town in a frenzy spurred by one woman’s emotions?

  Darla drew Connie closer for a hug, which Connie half-heartedly returned. Her friend’s insistence that she stay home and play still numbed her.

  “Find some closure with this,” Darla begged. “I can’t imagine how rough it’s been for you, ending your marriage, because I’ve never been married.”

  “I know.”

  “And I have to tell you, I really think this game is some unconscious way of compensating for what you lost when Aaron betrayed you,” Darla continued, not skipping a beat. “Take the day off, it’s not like you’re the first teacher to fake a sick call. Play the game some, wear it out, and hopefully you’ll find some closure. If the little people live happily ever after, good for them, but you should, too … here, not there.”

  Darla withdrew and let her arms fall slack, studying Connie for a long moment. Connie felt herself blush over the silent appraisal and, with a dramatic sigh, loped over to the computer. She should have been happy for the opportunity to duck work and revisit Min Acres, but the circumstances hardly lent themselves to enjoyment. Even with Darla gone, Connie knew she would forever sense her friend keeping vigil, judging her every move within DoMINion.

  As Darla gathered her work and left, Connie pondered the first move. Assuming control of Min Mark, she guided him to read the newspaper on his doorstep and browse through the Min ads. A short phone call later, and Mark secured a full-time gig as entertainment on the MINerva, the flagship of Min Cruise Lines, with service to the Bahamins and Jaminca. Effective immediately.

  Connie smiled as she clicked Min Mark’s acceptance of the job. Perhaps he would have to dress as Vegas Elvis and serenade little old Min ladies. Long live the Min King of rock and roll.

  Two clicks later and a large moving van swept up to Min Mark’s front door, and all his worldly possessions loaded and carried away. No such luck here, Connie noted as she checked the living room window for signs of life in the parking lot.

  Suddenly, however, Mark did come running from his apartment, fully dressed. He hopped onto his motorcycle and chugged away. No luggage, no guitar, but certainly such things could be found in a port of call should Mark accidentally ride his bike off the Chesapeake Bay-Bridge Tunnel and land on a passing cruise ship.

  Connie offered a mock salute to the fading trail of exhaust. “Happy sailing, your Highness.” Take your time coming back. Twenty years should do it.

  Her expression was not so mirthful when her Aaron’s car rolled back into view. Connie took a step back and glanced at the computer. Min Aaron was fast approaching Min Connie’s door.

  Chapter Twelve

  Connie should not have been surprised to see the parallels. Though she did nothing to encourage Min Aaron’s current actions, she did remember the game mimicked real life events on its own. If only she had some time to determine what would happen onscreen, maybe it might help her deal with her estranged husband.

  At that thought, Connie shook her head, disgusted. I need a game to tell me what to do now? All this time, she thought she had been in control, calling the shots. Darla was right … DoMINion controlled her. She may as well be strapped to the pleasure table in Min Connie’s dungeon for all time, given how much power she had.

  A soft knock alerted her to the door, and Connie steeled herself against the window as Aaron let himself into the living room. He was dressed for work and his face was red, a distinct flush Connie knew from years of living with him. He clearly hadn’t liked what he saw earlier, and likely drove around the block a few times to cool down.

  “Your door was wide open,” he scolded. In actuality, the door was almost closed; the lock hadn’t clicked all the way. Aaron also had quite the gift for exaggeration. Connie could only imagine how he would comment on seeing a naked man leaving the apartment, likening it into an orgy of Caligulan proportions.

  “It’s hot,” was Connie’s retort.

  “You shouldn’t leave it like this during the day. You want to come home to a ransacked apartment?”

  I’d rather come to my home, the one I left. The one now occupied by some floozy who never had to make payments on it. Rather than dredge up past arguments, Connie simply folded her arms and said, “Well, I’m here now, so I think everything is safe for the time being.”

  “I know, I saw Darla’s car pass the Starbucks when I was getting coffee and you weren’t with her. So I came over. Why aren’t you at work?” Concern creased his brows and he approached on soft footfalls. Up close, Connie noted her husband’s eyes were rimmed red, as if he’d been crying.

  Impossible. She knew Aaron’s range of emotion to be severely limited, running the gamut from A to E on good days. He didn’t even cry when his beloved Red Sox finally won the damn series … and he dumped her for Suzy! If indeed the thought of her with another man upset him, he had no right to weep over it.

  “I’m sick,” Connie said, not too convincingly.

  “Bullshit. Did that guy hurt you?” Aaron demanded. “Was he the reason you had plans last night,” his voice lowered and took on a tone of desperation, “and presumably this morning?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but nothing happened between me and Mark last night, this morning, or any morning in the past or future.” Not that Mark, anyway.

  She pushed past Aaron and rounded the breakfast table to the kitchen. Might as well put on some coffee for herself, seeing as how Aaron hadn’t bothered to pick one up for her. “Is there a reason for you being here, aside from your usual petty bickering about locks on doors?”

  “Believe it or not, I still care about you.” Aaron leaned against the bar, ducking his head deep into the galley kitchen. “If I think there’s a possibility you could be hurt because of faulty locks or dangerous neighbors, yes, I’m going to say something. Better yet, I’ll do something about it, because I want you to be safe. You’re still my wife.”

  Connie set down the coffee filters she’d been trying to separate and whirled to brace against the sink. She was grateful for the space dividing them. Aaron’s cologne stung her senses; a favorite scent of hers, one whiff had the power to render her into a puddle. The added irritation towards him only served to heighten her desires, much to her consternation. She should be angry with him for intruding, silently passing judgment on her when he was clearly in the wrong for his infidelities.

  Instead, she was angry with herself for finding his domineering personality sexy, for still wanting a man who wanted nothing to do with her, sexually anyway. Her romp in the dungeon with Min Mark had sadly done nothing to dispel old wants. That Aaron had to look so delicious in crisp, charcoal slacks, a white long-sleeved shirt and burgundy tie helped little.

  “I am still your wife,” she conceded, “and you are still my husband. And my husband sleeps with another woman nightly and I’m forced to accept it.”

  Aaron looked away at this.

  “One time, one time, you see something inappropriate and jump to conclusions. What right have you to be upset?”

  “There was a naked man leaving this apartment in broad daylight!” Aaron shouted. “My wife is screaming at him from the top of the stairs. I didn’t have very far to jump.”

  “You don’t know he wasn’t here for Darla,” Connie pointed out. “But regardless of whom he was here to see, or kiss, or sleep with,” she smiled at the sudden paling of his face, “it’s not your concern. Once our divorce is finalized, what goes on in my life will never be your concern again.”

  “Our divorce,” Aaron murmured.

  “Is that why you’re here? Do you have papers for me to sign? Hand ’em over.” Forgetting the coffee, she bolted to the computer desk under the premise of getting a pen. If her hand were to brush against the mouse and dissolve the screen saver, if she were to glance at the screen to view the progress of their Min doubles … so be it.

  She did just that, and choked back a gasp. Flying, neon doo-dads fizzed to white and Min Acre
s reappeared to reveal Min Aaron and Min Connie in her living room.

  Min Connie grasped the back of her office chair and bent with her arms stretched forward, naked.

  Min Aaron, also naked, bucked his hips against her ass, fucking her from behind.

  From the looks of things, the two had been at it for quite some time, and neither appeared to be in any hurry to stop. Min Aaron thrust slowly in and out of his lover’s pussy, his hands on her hips and his neck tilted downward so he could watch the hypnotic slide of his cock as it pulled against Min Connie’s pussy lips. Connie couldn’t see that much detail herself, but given her increasing arousal she was certain the Mins enjoyed and savored every sense heightened by their passion.

  Connie’s fingers danced along the desk, feeling for a pen. She was supposed to find a pen and sign her marriage away. Instead she watched her Min double thrash her head back and lip-synch her ecstasy, her breasts swaying underneath her as she gripped the chair.

  Pretty much in the same manner Connie clutched at hers.

  She heard Aaron close in on her. “Connie,” he said softly, “I wanted to talk to you about the divorce.”

  His hands came to rest on her sides, and instinctively she pushed back into his crotch.

  Whoa.

  She felt something hard brush her ass. To her growing delight, Aaron didn’t pull away, but encouraged the position with a forward press.

  “What about the divorce?” she asked. Her heart loosed from its cage and threatened to drop to the floor. Were she bent further, it would be a possibility.

  “I-I’ve been having second thoughts about it, and I’m not just saying that because of what I saw this morning.” Gentle fingers tapped at her rump and played with the hem of her blouse. One dared to scrape the flesh girded by the elastic band of her slacks, and Connie closed her eyes as Aaron traced the indentations left there.