What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 9) Page 5

  A few minutes later, Rickie appeared beside him, tray in hand. Her head turned as she scanned the room, obviously none too pleased with the changes he’d made. He cleared his throat. “I rearranged the furniture a bit.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Does it bother you?” It pissed him off to even ask, but if this marriage was going to get a fair shake, he and Rickie needed to start communicating.

  She surveyed the room before meeting his gaze. “I like that you put your chair back. This is where it belongs. Where you belong.”

  “But…?” She hadn’t said the word, but he knew it was hiding there, like the missing piece of a puzzle that changed everything.

  She pointed to the loveseat. “I don’t like the loveseat there.” Turning, she indicated the front wall with the large bay window. “Maybe we could try it over here?”

  His relief left him feeling like a wuss. So to prove his manliness, if only to himself, he jumped to his feet and in a matter of seconds, he’d moved the loveseat. Together, they stood back to admire their efforts. In the silence, his heart began to race. When she finally said, “I like it,” he gripped her around the waist and pulled her down onto the recliner with him.

  She laughed and the sweet sound of it started to fill the emptiness that had plagued him for the past year. He tightened his hold on her waist and smoothed his hand up the outside of her leg. “Now that we’re done decorating, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

  “I thought you said you were too tired.” She gave him a freezing look.

  “Too tired to fight.”

  Her lips thinned. “I see.”

  He shifted her on his lap and pressed her head against his shoulder. “You’ll like this.”

  “Just a minute.” She picked up his root beer from the tray and took a sip. With a grimace, she handed him the glass. “I hope I like what you want to discuss better than I like this crap.”

  He laughed, then downed half the root beer, enjoying the cool mix of vanilla and spices. It wasn’t Redhook, but it would do in a pinch. Okay, enough stalling. He set the glass down on the corner table beside him. “Remember you said you wanted to go on a honeymoon?”

  Mid-way to reaching for his sandwich plate, she stilled. After taking a sharp breath, she grabbed the plate and sat up. “I remember.”

  “Captain said I could take my vacation.”

  “When?”

  “In a few days.”

  “So soon?” A spark of anxiety flashed in her gaze. Was she having second thoughts?

  “Any reason why not?”

  She stared at the plate in her hands. “Chloe’s not walking yet.”

  “I’m sure my mother can take care of her. You’re still okay with that, aren’t you?” The night of the quake, she’d agreed to let his parents watch Chloe more often, including when they went on their trip.

  “Of course. But check with your mom. It may be more trouble than she’d anticipated when she agreed.”

  “No problem.” He knew his parents would be thrilled to have Chloe stay with them for a week. They’d consider it a chance to make up for some of the time they’d lost when Erica had refused to let them help out.

  He took a bite of his sandwich and watched the thoughts play out on her face. “What’s got that sweet forehead of yours scrunched up like that?”

  “Are we still going to Hawaii?”

  “Oahu. A full week of fun in the sun. I’ll make all the reservations.” He was pushing her boundaries by taking control of the planning. He studied her reaction.

  She bit her lip and toyed with a piece of crust that had broken off from the sandwich. “What are we going to do there?”

  He slid his hand up her hip. “Have lots and lots of sex.” His stomach fluttered. Christ. He felt as giddy as a little girl.

  When she glanced away, the fluttering turned to cramping and the sandwich threatened to come back up. He took the plate from her hands and set it on the table beside his root beer. “Talk to me.”

  “What happened the other night…”

  He turned her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I already apologized for that.”

  Her eyes welled, and he felt like shit. Could Hollywood possibly be right?

  She ran her hand along his jaw, the rasp letting him know he had far more than a five o’clock shadow. “The sex. It’s one of the issues we need to talk about.”

  “So talk.” The roughness of his voice shocked him. Christ, Caldwell. Get a handle on your ego before you drive her away. Rickie pushed off his lap, the cold emptiness reminding him of the year he’d spent without her.

  He rose from his chair and stopped in front of her, bending at the knees so they were eye level. “I really want things to be okay between us, babe.”

  “I know. But this isn’t the right time to get into this discussion. You’re tired and I’m too emotional.”

  “Fair enough. When?” It had better be soon. For a year he’d been starving without her, and that one night they’d shared had barely been an appetizer.

  “On the trip. We’ll be alone then. Rested. No excuses.”

  “No excuses,” he agreed, the words grating his throat. If they could get through this, their honeymoon would be a week in paradise.

  If they couldn’t, it would be a week in hell.

  Chapter Three

  “This is so beautiful.” Erica spun in a circle, taking in the beach cottage Jamie had rented for their stay. They entered into a large sitting area. Up one step, there was a large four-poster bed and a matching dresser. The bathroom was beautifully tiled and had a great sunken bathtub and separate glass shower. It was the perfect spot for their five-years late honeymoon.

  Jamie walked to the end of the room to open the glass doors that led to the gorgeous private lanai. She raced past him to see the magnificent view of the ocean. They could have breakfast here every morning while being serenaded by the music of the waves. He came up behind her and circled her waist with his arms. “You like it?”

  “I thought we’d be staying in some big stuffy hotel. I never imagined we’d have a cottage right on the water.”

  “Most of the cottages in this resort are double, but I managed to get us the only remaining private one.”

  His emphasis on the word “private” sent a thrill up her spine as she pictured what they could do here, far from any neighbors. If any place was worthy of a new beginning, this was it. “What do you want to do first?” she asked, her voice breathy.

  He chuckled and pressed his erection against her bottom. “Do you really need to ask?”

  “I guess not. But shouldn’t we—”

  Spinning her around, he cut off her words with a hard demanding kiss. He tasted of the cocktails they’d been served upon arriving at the resort. She was running her tongue along his bottom lip, seeking more of the sweetness, when he surprised her by sucking her tongue into his hot mouth. Usually their positions were reversed, with her sucking his tongue. The sensation of being inside someone else’s body was exquisite. Was this how Jamie felt when he was inside her?

  Jamie groaned in his throat. Without breaking the kiss, he gripped her thighs and lifted her up. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened her hold on his neck as he carried her into their room.

  When she saw he was heading for the bed, she pulled away. “The curtains.”

  “Right.” He carried her over to the doors where she released the long diaphanous material from the tasseled rope that held it to the side.

  With one hand, he undid the buttons on her blouse and pushed down the cup covering one breast. When his firm fingers closed on her nipple, she gasped. Arousal arrowed through her, dampening her panties. She arched her neck and spotted the curtains, still half-open. “Jamie.”

  He continued to toy with her breast, sucking, nibbling. Driving her crazy, making her throb. They had to close the curtains before it was too late. Before they had sex in front of the people on the beach. “Jamie. Wai
t.”

  Releasing her, he raised his head. His eyes were sharp with desire. A shiver shimmied through her.

  “What?” he asked. The husky tone of his voice almost had her melting against him and forgetting all about her need for privacy.

  She pointed to the gap in the curtains. “We should close them all the way.” He blinked as though she’d been speaking Elvish. “People can see us,” she added, feeling like an idiot.

  Jaw tight, he shook his head and carried her to the far side of the room. He yanked the curtain closed. “Okay, now?”

  He hadn’t shouted, but she’d detected the undertone of annoyance. Great. This was what she wanted most in her life, and she was going to ruin the moment because of her prudishness.

  “Perfect.” To get them back on track, she smiled and massaged the base of Jamie’s skull in the way she knew excited him.

  As expected, he closed his eyes and moaned. “That feels so good.”

  She nipped his lips and drank in the sounds of his pleasure. His hands seemed to relax as well, and feeling herself slip, she let out an involuntary squeal. Eyes snapping open, he dug his fingers into her legs to catch her, and hiked her up higher. The suddenness of his actions caught her off-guard. “Oh!” she gasped.

  Immediately, he loosened his grip. “Did I hurt you? I’ll be more careful.”

  “I’m fine,” she murmured against his lips. He spun around and slammed her against the wall. It seemed like a replay of their first night together so many years in the past and of the beginning of their reunion night just a few days ago. She’d hoped Jamie would let her see this assertive side of himself again. And now it was happening. Like the mercury in a thermometer on a hot day, her excitement shot to one hundred in an instant.

  He thrust his hips against hers, and the power of it made her head bounce against the wall.

  “Fuck,” he ground out. His voice was rough, like sand on tender feet. Like a tongue on her engorged clit. She shook and trembled, awaiting his next move. His hand threaded through her hair and delicious little quakes rocketed through her entire body. Was this it? Was he finally going to let himself go?

  Tilting her head, he leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear. She quivered and throbbed with need. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  What? His soft-spoken question, so out of place, had her reeling. Everything inside her was screaming for him to quit being so damn solicitous, to get the hell on with it.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked again.

  Her patience snapped. “Jamie, please just stop talking.”

  He pulled back and studied her face for a long moment. She tensed, waiting for his response. How he reacted would set the tone for the rest of their honeymoon.

  Her heart started to do a happy dance when he pulled her blouse off and shoved the bra up higher on her chest. Not liking that it impeded his path from her mouth to her breasts, a path she hoped his tongue would take again and again, she let go of his neck and undid her bra, tossing it to the floor.

  He remained silent, although he did shoot her a blistering glare that made her panties even wetter. Would he ever get to that part of her they hid? God she hoped so.

  When she reached for the snap of his shorts, his hand closed on her wrist like a manacle. Shaking his head, he raised her arm and pinned her hand to the wall above her. Her pulse thudded through her veins, drowning out the sound of the waves crashing onshore. Her insides burned with a fire only he could put out.

  His tongue lashed her nipples, circling each before he picked one and latched on, sucking deep. She leaned forward to watch. The sight of her nipple and then part of her breast disappearing between his kiss-roughened lips made the fire roar. She bucked her hips against him, wanting—needing—to feel him inside. Her body cried for him to fill it.

  When he moved to her other breast and bit her nipple, she let out a deep moan. His head jerked, colliding with her chin. “Ow!”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Rickie,” he said, his eyes filled with concern. “I got carried away and… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Erica wanted to cry. But not in front of him. Jamie wasn’t letting go at all. He’d been listening to her every sound, evaluating her pleasure or displeasure. And getting it all wrong. Had she brought him to a place where he didn’t trust his own instincts anymore?

  This had been a mistake. She shouldn’t have let herself get caught up in the moment, in the place, in Jamie. She should have insisted they talk and sort out their problems before even attempting to have sex again. “Put me down.”

  He brushed her hair off her face. “Rickie, I said I was sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  Anger fled and disappointment took its place. He really didn’t get it. She shook her head and felt as though she were turning to ash inside. “God, Jamie. Stop. I can’t take you treating me like a damn doll anymore.”

  She pushed on his chest until he released her thighs. Sliding down his body, she noticed his erection was gone. A sob rose in her throat as an immense sadness set anchor in her heart. Could they ever get past this?

  As soon as her feet hit the floor, she stumbled over to where her shirt lay, a rumpled rag, and grabbed it. He caught her elbow. “Rickie, stop.”

  She twisted away and thrust her arms into the sleeves of her blouse, her fingers fumbling with the buttons. “I—I need to get some air.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  She held up a hand to stop him. “No. I need some time to think.”

  “I don’t get the doll comment.” His expression stony, he turned and walked up the step to sit on the bed. “Just tell me what I did wrong.”

  “It’s not what you did, Jamie,” she said, her voice breaking like her heart. “It’s what you didn’t do.” With that, she turned and fled from the hero of her dreams, from the star of her nightmares.

  The thin curtain fluttered back into place, and Rickie’s retreating form disappeared from view. Jamie fell back on the bed and closed his eyes, hitting his forehead with his palms.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

  He’d done it again. Ruined everything. The bitch of it was, he really didn’t get how. It’s not what you did, Jamie. It’s what you didn’t do. What the hell did that even mean? Enough with the riddles, already! Why couldn’t she just tell him plain and simple?

  One thing was sure—he was going to kill Hollywood. She liked it rough, did she? He’d repeated exactly what he’d done on their reunion night when he’d taken her against the wall. Right before she’d run off, she’d been melting in his hands. But something had gone wrong. When she’d made that fucking doll comment, maybe she’d meant a rag doll. Maybe he’d been too rough. Or maybe he just didn’t understand a damn thing about Rickie and what she wanted.

  Pushing off the bed, he grabbed a beer from the mini-bar and popped it open. It wasn’t Redhook, and he hated drinking from a can, but he certainly wasn’t going to get drunk on those frou-frou drinks they served in coconuts with umbrellas. He chugged the can of watery-tasting shit and popped open a second one before dropping onto the couch.

  The curtains shifted and for a moment he thought she’d come back, but it was only a breeze bringing in the salty ocean air. Where had Rickie gone? They were on their honeymoon, in one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and they were fighting instead of having blow-your-mind sex. It just wasn’t right. Had she expected more romance? Had he come on too strong, too soon?

  He took another long swig of his beer. Yeah, he probably should have taken Rickie out for a nice dinner and some dancing before bringing her back to the cottage for some mattress mambo. But as soon as their plane had landed, all he’d been able to think about was getting his hands on her lush ass, and sinking his cock into her hot pussy—

  Fuck!

  Just the thought of taking her made him hard as a damn fire axe. Maybe if he took the edge off, he’d have better control of himself, wouldn’t be so damn desperate. Through his cotton shorts, he wrapped his hand around his hard-on and pushed bac
k. He groaned and a shudder shook his body. It felt good. But it wasn’t what he wanted.

  With a snort of disgust, he let go and raised the can of beer to his forehead. If he could get sex off his mind, he might be able to figure out a way to talk to Rickie. His eyes went to the curtain. Had she expected him to go after her? Shit. One more mark against him.

  He stood and started to pace the room, pausing to toe off his sandals. The cool wood felt like heaven on his bare feet. This situation was making him crazy. Even as a teenage boy, he’d never felt this insecure with a female. He rubbed the back of his neck, stiff with tension. Dani was right—he’d changed. Being with Rickie had changed him, and not for the better. The more she’d pushed him away, the more he’d let her. He’d gone against every instinct he had, just to try to make her happy. Some Dom he was.

  He’d done this to himself, and it was up to him to find a fix. But introspection had never been his forte, and the idea of visiting the fire-service shrink made him nauseated. If word got out… He didn’t even want to think about what would happen.

  But there was someone else, someone who knew him better than he knew himself. Reaching back, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. “Hey, Mom,” he said when she answered on the second ring.

  “Jamie?” She sounded confused, surprised. He hadn’t expected to be calling his mother during the first hours of his honeymoon either.

  “Just wanted you to know we arrived safely. And to check on Chloe.”

  “Ah. Did Erica ask you to call? Is she regretting leaving Chloe with us?”

  “Not at all. In fact, she went for a walk on the beach.”

  Silence.

  “Mom?” He pulled the phone away from his ear to check if they were still connected. They were. “You there?”

  “First, Chloe’s fine, and she’s sleeping. It is past nine here.”

  Shit. His mind was so wrapped up in the fight with Rickie, he’d completely forgotten about the time difference. He glanced at his watch, which he’d set to local time in the plane. Six fifteen. In an hour or so the sun would set. If Rickie wasn’t back by then, he’d go searching for her. “That’s—” he started.