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

  She unabashedly sunk lower, wriggling to feel his arousal, kissing and nibbling the smooth texture at his neck and collar. She pulled in a deep breath, tasting his flavor on her tongue.

  He stopped outside a bedroom door and lowered her feet to the floor. “Seriously, Shay. I know we’ve only spent a long weekend together.”

  “The most amazing weekend imaginable,” she corrected, tugging on his belt loop.

  John nodded. “That was just the beginning. I meant what I said. I don’t ever want to be without you again. I know it sounds crazy, but I was miserable without you. I felt sick, and I was just empty inside.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I know this sounds cliché, but I feel…whole with you. Complete.”

  He kissed her long and hard until they were both deprived of oxygen.

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, blushing as she glanced at the door.

  “I just assumed or hoped you would be sharing my room. My mom and Tom had a few things already set up in another room for you, but I took the liberty of moving them.” He nipped her neckline before opening the door.

  “You just took it upon yourself to make decisions for me.” A crooked grin played across her face, the sensation of his lips already turning her breathless.

  “Would you feel better if I stayed in your room? Mine is at the end of the hall…all by itself.” As the last three words rolled sensually off his tongue, John’s hand slid down her lower back, curling beneath her cheeks, sending her into near convulsions.

  Her eyes rolled back. She didn’t have a chance in hell of keeping a straight face. “No. This is perfect.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  A king size log bed, dressed in sumptuous white linens, captured her attention. The exterior walls were made of rough, hand-hewn eighteen-inch logs, but a faint sunny yellow washed the smooth textured interior walls. A large arrangement of flowers sitting on a dark table drew her eye. Shayla laughed out loud, sauntering over to inspect the hodgepodge of flowers with half of the buds intentionally pinched off. Her smile broadened as she plucked off another bud, inhaling the sweetness.

  “I totally forgot this year.”

  His heated grin grew as he watched her reaction. “Tommy wouldn’t tell me the joke. The only thing I could get out of him was that it was a family tradition.”

  “The first couple of Christmases Tommy and I had together were hard.” Shayla raised the flower to his nose, spinning it between her fingers. “Growing up, my dad sabotaged every holiday, and Christmas was the absolute worst. God forbid if anyone wanted to be happy. And if he was expected to buy a present, it was guaranteed to be smashed to pieces by the end of the day.”

  Her thoughts pulled her back to a faded, but not forgotten memory. John listened attentively as she shared her story. He took the flower, etching it along her chin and tracing the shell of her ear.

  “I learned to hide in my room a lot. Anyways, when I moved to California, Tommy didn’t really like Christmas either. It was the only day I ever saw him dwell on the fact that he had never married and had a family. He never admitted this, but I always thought Christmas was like a day of mourning for him. I knew he needed his space, so I started having Christmas with my friend Carrie Ann. Tom opted for solitude, making the excuse of researching new films.”

  “He seems ecstatic this year.” John began to unbutton her shirt.

  “Must be the love going around.” She simmered, holding onto his waist, rolling her thumbs over his tightly packed abs.

  “So how do the flowers come into play?”

  “Eventually, we joked about it and then it became somewhat of a spoof. I sent him an empty bottle of wine and a container of half eaten cookies wishing him a very Merry Christmas. He volleyed by sending me one new boot, the matching footwear arrived the following day. One year I bought him a great tie, but drizzled ketchup all over it before sticking it in the mail. But my favorite Christmas ever was when he sent me bouquet after bouquet of flowers. The delivery man kept coming back all day until my new house was filled with every species of flower imaginable.”

  Corralling her against edge of the bed, John let the back of his fingers brush against her abdomen as he unzipped her jeans. The curve of his mouth had nothing to do with humor. He stripped her of her boots, tossing them over his shoulder one at a time before undressing and tackling her on the bed.

  They rolled over the fluffy down comforter, entwined in each other’s arms. John slipped his palm inside her black lace bra, covering the erect tip of her breast with his mouth. Her fingers ran through his dark locks of hair, gripping tightly as the low ache in her core contracted. He straddled her hips, working over her mouth in long indecent licks of his tongue. A delicious heat surged through her limbs.

  John broke the kiss, biting her shoulder gently before easing her onto her stomach. He unclasped her bra and hooked his fingers through her black panties, nearly tearing the lace. “If I remember correctly, you rather liked this.”

  His voice slipped over her shoulders like crushed velvet.

  A simpering camber held to her mouth, twisting to see his face beside hers. “Oh, yes, I did.”

  Leaning back on his haunches, he wedged a knee between her legs and then another, caressing the back of her leg all the way down to her toes.

  “God, I love you.”

  Feeling the heat of his moist breath on her ass, she trembled and arched.

  “You’re skin smells so delicious. I’ve thought about tasting you since I walked off that damn plane.”

  Each place his body touched hers created a spark of energy. Her hips arched upward in a primal craving, as if they had a mind of their own. Every timid insecurity she’d known dissolved in his presence. He rubbed up the back of her thighs as his mouth wandered over the ticklish spot at the small of her back. Her hips rose higher and she bucked a little, needing more. “John, please,” she panted in a raspy voice.

  A small knowing grumble came from his throat and he took a tender bite of her ass. His thumbs put pressure on the inside of her thighs, lifting her a few inches higher. “You missed me.”

  “Yes.” Her voice strained taut in unbearable desire.

  Her heart slammed erratically in eagerness. A long swipe of his tongue pierced through her soft flesh. She shivered at the sensation of his mouth languidly feeding off her. Her heartbeat rocked through her veins and she balled her fists in the bedding. Waves of pleasure rolled, building and climbing. She reached her hand between her thighs to rub her aching flesh, but he grabbed her, lacing his fingers through hers, pinning it to the bed.

  “Wait,” came a guttural sound of command. She writhed beneath his masterful mouth, her pulse brutal in its force. He teased her, deliberately avoiding the one spot she so badly needed him to flick.

  Her head thrashed back and forth. “Can’t.”

  He marauded deeper, getting closer, bringing her to a height of fervor she’d never known. Her heart slammed and she clenched in anticipation.

  “John!”

  He delivered, plunging deep inside, drawing her cleft into the searing heat of his mouth. Shudders wracked her body, pushing her into rapture.

  His hot, wet mouth laid down a torturous trail of nibbles and bites along her back. “That is how much I missed you, baby.”

  She collected her breath and stretched out her cramped fingers that were clenched tightly to the sheets.

  He lowered on top of her back, the warmth of his body blanketing her damp skin. He rubbed his hands over each of hers, interlacing his thick fingers between hers, holding his crushing weight on his elbows. Her inner muscles contracted in acceptance as she felt the gentle nudge of his erection gliding over her silken folds.

  His breath came in hungry pants beside her cheek.

  Shayla twisted, opening her mouth, rooting for his kisses.

  “Easy,” he whispered, taking in her tongue.

  Her rising moan filled their mouths and she shivered, tasting her own essence on h
is breath.

  He gave a low, guttural groan of pleasure, holding her gaze until he entered her.

  Shayla gripped tighter to his fingers, slippery from sweat, accepting the thick fullness of him. She clenched around him, marveling at the feel of his erection as he pushed deeper into her wet heat.

  His face was right beside hers. She loved the way his eyes turned cloudy in a passion-filled daze. He rocked into her again and again, taking in every nuance of her reaction, learning from each whimper. Her teeth nipped at his skin and her parted lips dragged over the flexing muscles of his arm and shoulder.

  Nuzzling into her neck, John released her fingers and gripped her hips, lifting them higher.

  Shayla’s head lowered, allowing her to scrunch deeper into the folds of the bedding. Her hips shifted backward, greeting his thrusts. She began to peak and sounds of excitement rose from her throat in pleasure.

  John tangled one hand into her mane of hair and the other gripped her shoulder, impaling her in a tireless rhythm until they both came in hard shudders. He crumpled on top of her, falling off to one side, pulling her body close to his. Swamped with emotions, she snuggled into his chest.

  Swathed in sheets holding the salty essence of sex and skin, both were too exhausted to speak.

  Shayla lay in the crook of his arm, lazily fingering the dark curls on his chest.

  His hands lingered over her bare hip in idle circles.

  She was happier than she had been in her entire life. There was no place else she would ever want to be.

  “I know you can’t leave your job, but I can do my job from any computer. I’ll need to get some of my things before we go to Vegas. We’ll work out the rest later. I just want to be wherever you are.” Her quiet words were tucked between a few yawns as she began to drift off.

  John pulled the blanket higher and pressed his lips to her hair. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A large, luminous star on the side of the mountain marked the coming of Christmas. Shayla wondered if Old Saint Nick himself was going to emerge from the fireplace on Christmas morning, covered in soot in search of chocolate chip cookies and milk. She’d seen the jolly man dressed in his red suit and white beard on the ski slopes, on a snow mobile, and shoveling snow along a drive.

  Everyone came and went on their own schedules, skiing, sledding, tubing, and shopping. The list of fun was never ending. The Levi’s arrived, bringing a whole new dynamic to the festivities, especially with their seven-year-old daughter, Kim. If she wasn’t at ski school, she was stuck to JC’s side like duct tape, sporting footed reindeer pajamas and an antler hat.

  Shayla felt like she had stepped into an old fashioned Christmas postcard. The week that followed was like living in a dream. Neither Shayla nor John came prepared with presents in tow, so they spent a few mornings snowboarding and a few afternoons shopping for the perfect gifts. The small Colorado ski town redefined the term decked out for the holidays.

  Shayla and John strolled arm-in-arm through the streets the day before Christmas Eve. The sound of sleigh bells mixed with the sweet songs of carolers, as horse-drawn sleighs paraded passengers down the quaint streets.

  Snowflakes began to fall and the icy crystals collected on their lashes and lips. “Please tell me we’re coming back here next year?”

  A sexy smile tugged at his mouth. He pulled his hand from his jacket and wiped a flake from her lip with the ball of his warm thumb. “We’re definitely coming back here next year.”

  “Seriously, is this not just the best?” Shayla stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, holding her arms out wide. Big snowflakes gathered on her shoulders and knitted hat. She motioned to the street ahead, lined with never-ending rows of twinkle lights, and light poles adorned in wreaths. “I mean look! I feel like I’m in a life-size gingerbread village.”

  He shot her a stealthy grin. “Wait till you see what I have in store for you tomorrow.”

  John and Shayla spent Christmas Eve morning on the slopes. Both of them were avid snowboarders. However, neither could keep up with JC or the Levi’s. Shayla gave up trying after two runs and the double black diamond.

  JC promised it would be a piece of cake, but after a few falls, Shayla felt more like a smushed flap-jack, and at one point thought she might have to walk down.

  Everyone met back at the cabin for an early afternoon dinner. The unmistakable aroma of homemade pies filled the cabin when they walked in after snowboarding. The kitchen counter was buried beneath all of the homemade goodness.

  Tess hovered over the oven, removing perfectly toasted apple pies, and Tracy sat on a barstool snacking on moosemunch.

  “Can I help?”

  “Awe, thanks, sweetie, but I’ve got it,” Tess said.

  “Are you sure?”

  Tracy patted the seat next to her. “She cooks, we do clean up. It’s tradition.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Shayla climbed onto the stool, grabbing a slice of cheese and topping it on a cracker.

  “Damn, it smells good in here.” Tommy’s praise and wide smile brought a blush to Tess’s cheeks. His arms encircled her from behind and he placed a kiss of affection on her cheek.

  Tracy and Shayla smiled at each other, witnessing the simple intimate act.

  “How was boarding?”

  “Me?” Shayla pointed to her chest. “It was great.”

  “Between them and you and John, I feel like I need a boyfriend,” Tracy grumbled, taking dishes to the table. She hollered down the stairway to the basement as she headed for the dining room, “Time to eat!”

  Everyone gathered at the long rustic table cut from a six-inch slab of wood. Delectable dishes lined the table, nestled between a gorgeous candelabra made of iron.

  John pulled out Shayla’s chair, tucking it beneath her.

  She glanced around the table, and for the first time in her life, Shayla felt like she belonged to a real family. Her heart brimmed full and her chest felt heavy. Sentiments of love mixed with a deep seeded feeling of peace. Every book she read as a little girl filled with Christmas magic could not have prepared her for the real, true feeling welling in her heart.

  She sniffled, capturing John’s attention. His eyes slipped over her in his peripheral view and he casually placed his hand on her leg, handing her his napkin. She stared at her plate, not wanting to draw attention to herself, blotting her nose with the napkin. When she thought she had a handle on it, Shayla looked up to see Tommy watching her.

  He looked a bit weepy too, and she broke. Silent tears flowed down her cheeks.

  She sniffed again, giving a small chuckle of embarrassment, shaking her finger at Tommy as a playful warning not to make her cry.

  JC wrenched her head forward, peering down the table. “Are you crying?”

  Shayla shook her head in innocent denial and then nodded, laughing at her own silliness. “Sorry.”

  Before she had time to excuse herself, JC leaned over her, wrapping her in the sweetest hug. “It’s okay, don’t cry.”

  Shayla’s shoulders shook from laughing and crying. “I’m okay. I’m happy. It’s just that this has been such a wonderful holiday.”

  John smiled at her over JC’s arm.

  JC smooched her cheek, whispering in her ear, “I knew this was going to happen.”

  Shayla snickered a little between sniffles, watching JC tug her phone from her back pocket. She flipped though pictures, pulling up the photo of John and Shayla asleep on the flight to Greece. The picture had a heart and the word Christmas written across it, drawn by the tip of her finger with a phone app. “See? I knew it!”

  A grateful smile lingered with doubt. “Manifesting again?”

  “Umm hmm.”

  After dinner, the girls pitched in to clear the table and do dishes.

  John stole Shayla away in the midst, assuring her they’d make breakfast for everyone the next morning. He held out her snowboarding suit. “Don’t ask, just put it on.”

  Shayla did as he asked and
slipped into her gear without uttering a single word.

  Stepping out into the frigid night air, they strapped into their snowboards. Falling snow covered the well-beaten path between the towering pines. They cut their way through the powder, taking the trail toward the slopes. Frigid night air pinched her cheeks and the scraping sound of their boards filled the still night.

  When they made it out the chute and past the tree-line, John stopped, pulling a blanket from his backpack. Careful not to disturb the dense branches loaded with heavy snow, he tucked the thick blanket beneath the pine, sheltering them from the falling snow.

  “What are we doing?”

  “We’re waiting.”

  John stretched out long on his side on top of the blanket. Shayla dug the edge of her board into the powder and dropped to her bottom, leaning against his abs for support. He took off one glove and retrieved a silver flask of whiskey from his inside pocket.

  “Have a told you how much I love you?” she said, taking a swig, letting the burn of the whiskey warm her from the inside. She cocked her head, listening. Voices carried through the treetops and light falling snow. “Is that…singing?”

  He snuggled closer. “Umm hmm.”

  Within minutes, torch-bearing skiers began making their way down the mountain. Hoots and hollers rang out between lyrics of jingle bells and ho-ho-ho’s as the parade of lights made it’s way down the mountainside. Colorful illuminations took the traditional form of a Christmas tree as the skiers and snowboarder crossed side to side across, cruising down the slope.

  A loud crack thundered in the darkness and fireworks shot through the night sky. Barely visible through the winter wonderland, an exploding star burst over the top of the Christmas tree with each boom. “Merry Christmas Eve, Shay.”

  She slouched, kissing him through three rounds of star burst. “Merry Christmas Eve. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Cool morning air whispered across the heated flush of her body. Shayla and John lay tangled in bed while the sun pushed through the shuttered window. Sex mingled with the morning scent of their warm bodies. “Merry Christmas, baby,” John purred into the folds of her hair.