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

  He waggled his brows and pointed at his groin. “Want to hop on?”

  Laughing, she tickled his side. “Don’t you need any recovery time?”

  “Not with you, babe.”

  “I guess I’ll have to be the adult tonight. You need to get in bed.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  “You are the worst patient, Jamie.”

  The water splashed as he rose and climbed out of the bath. She dried him with a fluffy hotel towel, enjoying the fact that his erection never wavered. They’d have to do this again when he was healed. When she could join him in the tub and soap them both up.

  After helping him into a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, she handed him three tablets of ibuprofen and a glass of water. Much to her relief, he swallowed them without argument. When she removed the bag from his wrist, Jamie picked his shorts up and pulled a tube out of his pocket. “The doc gave me this ointment to put on it. I’ll be good as new by the time we get back home.”

  Home. The word hit her like a plank. In a few days, they’d be going back to Seattle, back to the real world, back to nonstop pressures and distractions. Jamie would return to the station where he’d face potentially life-threatening situations on a daily basis. And she’d go back to worrying about him every minute that he was on the job.

  Could she go through that again?

  The ache in her chest made her gasp. She wobbled and Jamie caught her, sitting her on the bed. “Rickie? Tell me what’s going on.” He held her in his arms, rubbing slow circles on her back. Sobs burst through her clenched teeth, and she surrendered to a tidal wave of mixed emotions.

  “Just hold me, please. Hold me for a little while.”

  They stretched out on the bed and Jamie pressed his chest against her back, his thighs tucked against her bottom, solid and reassuring. His arm around her waist held her in place and with his lips on her ear, he whispered, “I’m right here, babe. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

  She squeezed her lids closed, desperate to stop the fresh wave of tears brought on by his words. Her husband was a true hero. But was she cut out to be a hero’s wife?

  Chapter Nine

  The first light of dawn pouring in through the window above the bed roused Erica from a fitful sleep. Her eyes popped open and her heart raced until she got her bearings. Hawaii. The cottage. Jamie spooning her. She warmed, feeling his arm still pressing her against his chest. As he’d promised her when she’d cried: he was there. He was always there for her.

  She shifted to move her arm that had gone numb during the night. The movement brought her bottom into firm contact with his groin. It twitched against her and began to swell. Should she slip under the covers and give her husband a good morning treat? He deserved it after coddling her all night.

  As she began to shimmy down, her gaze landed on his bandaged arm and memories of the explosion came crashing back to her in a paralyzing cascade. She must have made a distressed sound because Jamie’s arm tightened around her. When he woke up, he’d want to talk about what had happened and why she was so upset. But what could she say? If she lied and pretended that everything was okay, she’d ruin all the trust they’d so painstakingly built up between them this week. If she told him the truth, they’d be at a stalemate, unable to move forward with their relationship.

  Behind her, Jamie shifted and his arm grew heavier on her hip as he relaxed into a deeper sleep. Careful not to disturb him, she slipped out of the bed, grabbed her phone, and walked out onto the lanai.

  Although the temperature was already high, the breeze from the ocean was cool. The sky was a kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges, and reds as the sun climbed out of the water. Oahu had to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. But after yesterday’s sunrise vow renewal, every sunrise would pale in comparison, unless Jamie was by her side. She had little hope of that unless she fixed the mess they were in.

  Stretching out on one of the chairs, she considered her options again. Neither one appealed to her. Maybe she needed a second opinion. And she knew just who to ask. Before she could chicken out, she dialed Dani’s number and, with her heart in her mouth, waited for the woman to answer. It didn’t take long. “Erica? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Hon, it’s six in the morning in Oahu. People on their honeymoon are supposed to be so exhausted from their… uh… nocturnal exertions that they sleep half the day. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  Erica chuckled, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Last night was tiring all right. But not for the reason you think. Jamie was injured.”

  “What? Is he in the hospital? Do you need me to fly out there?”

  “No. He’s fine.” Erica mentally kicked herself. She should have anticipated Dani’s reaction to the news and broken it to her more smoothly. Dani’s loyalty to Jamie was legendary. Erica spoke with a lightness she didn’t feel. “You know what a hero he is. He pulled a man and a young child out of an overturned car seconds before it exploded. His arm was burned during the rescue.”

  “Fuck. Is it bad? Will he need surgery?”

  “No, nothing like that. The doctor gave him some ointment to put on it and said he’d be better in a few days.”

  “That’s good.” She let out a long breath. “So if everything’s hunky-dory, why do you sound like you just lost your best friend?”

  “Because I think I might have.”

  “Erica, what’s going on?”

  A lump formed in her throat and the backs of her eyes burned. Squeezing her lids shut, she breathed deeply several times. She was not going to cry again. After a moment, she felt steady enough to get to the real reason she’d called Dani. “When the car exploded, I thought…” The lump became a boulder, preventing her from speaking.

  “You thought Jamie was dead.”

  “For a moment, I wanted to die too. I wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear.”

  “You were scared, hon. It’s normal.”

  “It was more than that. I got a glimpse of how my mother must have felt when my father was killed.” She straightened her shoulders and stared at the waves rolling onto the surf. “I wanted to die, and I barely had a thought for my daughter, for what would happen to her if she lost both her parents. What kind of mother does that?”

  “A terrified one. Listen, Erica. You’re not like that. I bet you shook it off, then charged over to the fire to help Jamie.”

  Erica shifted in her seat and ordered herself to voice to the ugly truth festering in her chest. “I told Jamie I could accept the risks of him being a firefighter. But after last night and the way it made me feel, I don’t know that I can go through the agony of not knowing day after day without becoming… less.” More like her mother with each passing week.

  A heavy silence hung between them.

  Dani finally broke it. “Do you want him to quit the service?”

  Erica’s breath caught in her throat. God help her, some small selfish part of her did want that. “I don’t know. Do you think he would?”

  “He’d do anything for you. But Erica, that knife has a double-edge.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Answer this. How have things been going between you two since you got to the island?”

  Erica stared through the glass doors at Jamie’s sleeping form. “I followed your advice about being honest with him. It was hard, but I told him how I felt, what I wanted. And he did the same. We’ve connected on a level I didn’t know existed.” Her heart constricted painfully. She loved him so much.

  “Yet you’re debating asking him to deny a part of who he is, a crucial part. If you do that, you’ll drive him to keep things from you, to hide an essential piece of himself. Like he was before when you were so miserable.”

  It’s who I am, Rickie.

  Jamie’s words, stated so baldly when she’d tried to stop him from going back for the driver, slid through her heart like a knife. A double-edged one. The tears she’d been fighting
spilled over and dripped down her cheeks and off her chin. “I can’t do that to him. Dani, what am I going to do? I want him whole. Just the way he is.”

  “Then tell him that. Show him. He’ll love you all the more because you aren’t forcing him to be half a man.”

  With the edge of her T-shirt, Erica wiped her cheeks. Dani was right. She had to prove to Jamie—and herself—that she was prepared to love him and everything that came with him—the total package. That brave, fearless, selfless side of him had attracted her as much as his man-in-charge side. For them to be happy, for their marriage to survive, she had to accept both sides of her husband.

  After a few more minutes of chatting, she thanked Dani and hung up. Jamie and Chloe were her life. If she wanted a secure loving family, she had to get a grip on her fears. Had to accept the risks of Jamie’s job and know that if the worst did come to pass, she’d survive. She’d raise their daughter to be a successful confident woman. She was not her mother.

  But one question remained: how could she tell Jamie all this in a way he’d understand? After her meltdown last night, he’d have serious doubts about anything she said, and she really couldn’t blame him. An about-face would set off his alarms. Words would not be enough. Something Dani had said came to her then. Show him.

  Good advice. But how?

  Tiptoeing back inside the cottage, she found the book she’d snuck in her suitcase. An erotic novel about what she now understood was a D/s relationship. Maybe it would give her some ideas. If she gave him what he wanted, showed him that she accepted his Dom side completely—surrendered to it—perhaps he’d also believe that she’d finally accepted that his being a firefighter was one of the many reasons she loved him.

  On the way back to the lanai, she caught sight of Jamie’s little bag of toys. Hmmm… There might be something in it that she could use. Snatching up the bag, she brought it outside. Total submission wouldn’t be easy for her, given her controlling nature—yes, she knew she was a control-freak—but Jamie was well worth the effort.

  Jamie threw the pillow off his face and glared at the sunlight piercing his skull. The dull throbbing in his head matched the one in his arm. The burn wasn’t bad, but it stung. He loved fire, but it could be a bitch of a mistress.

  He stretched out, wanting to pull Rickie to him, needing to reassure himself that she hadn’t left him again. But his hand met only cold sheets. He jackknifed in the bed and scanned the room. Empty. His heart raced until he spotted her purse on the dresser. Relieved, he flopped back onto the bed. Like most women he knew, Rickie had her life in that purse, and she’d never wander far without it. When she returned, they’d have a chat about last night. He’d really hoped she’d come to accept his career, but her reaction proved she was still struggling with it. He didn’t know how to help her, except…

  The thought was too depressing to complete. Shoving off the bed, he collected the supplies he’d need to take a shower and change his bandage. The shower would help clear his mind and calm him down. How he handled the next few hours would affect the rest of his life in a major way.

  After the shower, he examined his burn. The blisters were almost gone and the angry purple had faded to a bright pink. A little like Rickie’s ass after the spanking he’d given it the other day. His groin tightened and he raked a hand through his damp hair. There’d be no more of that until he figured out what was going on inside his wife’s head. And her heart.

  He changed the bandage, then wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom. His gaze zeroed in on the one object out of place.

  His wife.

  Rickie sat on her heels by the door, naked. Her knees were spread and her hands rested on her thighs. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her. Christ. She was presenting. Where the fuck had she learned to do that?

  His instinct was to charge across the room, yank her to her feet, and demand to know what the hell she was up to. Instead, he rocked back on his heels. If this twist in their relationship was something she truly wanted, he owed it to her to hear her out. But could he deal with controlling another person to this extent again, even for her?

  She still hadn’t looked up. Knowing what she was waiting for, he crossed his arms and snapped, “Erica.”

  Her gaze lifted and she smiled brightly. “Good morning, Sir.”

  Did she just want to play a little? He really couldn’t tell.

  “Good morning. Come here.”

  “Yes, Sir.” When she shifted to all fours and began crawling to him, his stomach dropped to his knees. She stopped in front of him and kissed his bare feet before looking at him, her expression expectant.

  Seeing her prostrate herself before him, his stomach revolted. He swallowed the stream of curses that wanted out of his throat and schooled his features. “Good girl,” he said, patting her on the head. When her eyes lit up, his gut clenched. If she really meant this, he was in some serious trouble. He had to know. “Is there something you wish to say?”

  She nodded. “I have a gift for you, Sir. May I give it to you?”

  “You may.” Still on her knees, she crawled over to the dresser. Turning away from her, he sat on the bed and worked on appearing calm. She returned and knelt at his feet, her hands curled around whatever she was holding. “Speak,” he ordered when she remained silent.

  “I offer myself to you, as your obedient s-slave, Sir.”

  Jamie clenched his teeth to keep from hissing. He’d had slaves before and that was not something he wanted for Rickie. He motioned for her to continue.

  Casting her gaze downward, she opened her hands, revealing a collar she’d made by snapping together two ankle restraints she must have found in his toy bag. “I hope you will agree to be my Master.”

  “You want me to collar you.”

  Her cheeks colored. “Yes, Sir. I want to belong to you.” Her voice sounded shrill. Was she excited or nervous?

  “Rickie, what the fuck is going on?”

  She dropped the collar onto the floor. The clank of the snaps hitting the wood resounded in the quiet room. Shifting onto her butt, she hugged her legs to her chest and rested her forehead on her knees. Hiding from him. Shit.

  “I thought this was what you wanted.” Her voice broke.

  He slid off the bed and sat beside her on the floor. “I don’t want to own you, babe. Why would you even think that?”

  “You keep saying stuff like, ‘You’re mine.’ How else am I supposed to take that?”

  Threading his fingers through her hair, he tugged her head up. “Honey, it just means you’re the love of my life and I want to keep you with me always. Not that you’re my property.” When she closed her eyes, he had a sinking feeling. They needed to clear this up right now. “You don’t want to be, do you?”

  “Be what?”

  “My slave or my pet.”

  She arched one of her perfect blonde brows. “What if I did?”

  He leaned against the bed and let his head loll back. “I’ve tried that before. Some submissives experience a deep sense of satisfaction from having someone control their every move. They enjoy serving their Masters and being treated like a possession. I have to be honest with you: it’s not my thing.” Lifting his head, he pinned her with his gaze. “If you’re serious, though, I’ll do this for you. You have to know, I’d do anything for you.”

  Heaving a sigh, she shot to her feet and grabbed her robe off the chair. “After the way I acted last night, I wanted to show you that I’m not changing my mind. I’m in this with you one hundred percent.” She threw the robe on and gave him her back.

  “Rickie, don’t turn away. Don’t ever be embarrassed about anything you feel.”

  Throwing her hands up, she faced him. “How can I not be embarrassed? I thought if I let you collar me, you’d understand what I was offering. That I was giving myself to you completely.”

  His chest ached with love for her, for how much she wanted him and their marriage. Going to her, he cupped her chee
ks with his hands. “I got the message loud and clear, Rickie, and I’m honored that you thought to give yourself to me in that way. But I don’t want to own you, or anyone else. I want to be your partner, your equal.”

  “Even during sex?”

  “Well, no. If we’re in a scene, I need you to be submissive and obedient. Not because you must, but because you trust me enough to submit to my will of your own volition.”

  She stared at him, her brow furrowed. He could only guess at the analysis going on behind those gorgeous brown eyes. “So, if we’re partners in real life, does that mean”—she paused and licked her lips—“you’re mine?”

  Chuckling, he dropped his hands to her ass and pulled her to him so they were chest-to-chest and hip to hip. “More than you’ll ever know.” He bent to scrape his teeth along her neck and enjoyed the goose bumps that sprouted under his lips. “Without you, I’m barely living.”

  “That’s how I feel too.” She hooked her arms around his shoulders, sinking her fingers into his muscles. “I missed you so much while we were separated, but I asked you to leave, because I didn’t know how we could go on the way we were. Since we’ve been here, I feel so close to you. I’m just so afraid of—” She clamped her jaws together and buried her face against his chest.

  He sighed and held her close. “If you haven’t been able to come to terms with the risks of firefighting in the five years we’ve been together, Rickie, I don’t think you ever will.” Inside him, an axe dropped, cleaving his heart. He knew what he had to do for her, for Chloe, for their marriage. “I’ll quit if that’s what you want.”

  Her head jerked up and she dug her nails into his arms. “No! No, Jamie. You can’t do that.”