LOVE QUAKES: BOXED SET (BOOKS 1-4) (20 page)

In the next instant, my bra’s been removed and thrown somewhere. Tristan pulls me up into a semi-seated position on the bed and pops one of my breasts into his mouth and sucks, tenderly. My other breast is getting a Tristan Grant massage with just the right amount of nipple pulling and squeezing. After several minutes of foreplay, Tristan pauses and pulls out his tie from around his collar. He’s still fully dressed in a shirt and pants. I touch his shirt collar but he shakes his head no.

The next thing I know, my arms are pulled above my head, together, and attached to the headboard with his tie. This is just a bit kinky but it’s probably related to his injured ribs. Once I’m secured, Tristan pulls off his own pants and shirt and tosses them on the chair. The look on his face indicates nothing but appreciation and desire. He’s in another place entirely when he pulls himself to my side then and kisses me passionately on the lips.

His long slender fingers find their way to my ass and massage it slowly and thoroughly. I’m writhing around while he looks deeply into my blue eyes. He tugs at my new panties as we quickly work them off my hips and down to my ankles. I manage to push them all the way off and kick them away from where we’re making out.  He makes an approving sound as he looks at the exposed results of my Brazilian wax job.

Then his hands begin their magic moves on my most private parts. I’m lost to his perfect touch. He’s stimulating me with his hands, and then fingers, in every way possible. His underwear remains intact as he pleasures me in the most thrilling manner with the expert pressure of his thumb, index and middle fingers. He keeps up a steady rhythm on my most sensitive internal tissues.

Finally, I lose myself to one orgasmic spasm after another. We’re both moaning incoherently when I finally reach a mind-numbing climax and scream out his name with reverence. He kisses me repeatedly and looks delighted as I collapse onto his bed feeling more than satiated.

“Do you want a release?” I ask with eagerness. He shakes his head no and gives me a very kind look.

“Not tonight. I just want to make up for my crazed business partner and show you how much I care for you,” he whispers before taking me in his arms and falling soundly asleep with an angelic smile on his face.

I wake up wrapped around my gorgeous boyfriend. Tristan doesn’t seem to mind that my head rests on his shoulder and that my arms are around his waist. His ribs must be healing quickly. He’s conscious before me and gives me the most passionate wake-up kiss ever. It’s so much fun to play with my millionaire lover boy.

“What a wonderful  greeting, Tristan. Your demonstration last night had me dancing with the stars,” I admit and blush at the memory of that amazing trip to the heavens.

He chuckles with pride, “Hopefully that will keep you sexually satisfied until you return from NYC.”

“Now that you’ve introduced me to the wonders of your expert fingers, I may need to call you for some intermittent phone sex while in Manhattan.”

“Good.” Tristan’s searing expression lets me know we won’t be getting out of bed anytime soon.

“You’re delicious,” he mutters after a very intense fifteen minute make out session.  “I may not let you attend the conference after all.”

“Look at it this way, by the time I’ve returned from New York, you should be fully healed.”

“And you will be coming like a space rocket,” he promises with those enticing aqua eyes.

“Then, I’ve got more to look forward to with our adventures,” I admit and jump out of bed with enthusiasm.

It’s time for me to get dressed and head to the airport. I kiss Tristan with promises of more to come. He has that abandoned little boy look on his face as I walk out of the penthouse toward the SUV for my flight. Hawk drives both Janelle and me to the gate. We’ve been upgraded to first class by Tristan, of course. I text him before boarding.

“Thank you for the upgrade, T.”

“For you, I’d do anything Joanna.”

“Jan says you’re the best.”

“How would she know? I miss your mouth and arms already.”

 “I miss your fingers, Tristan.”

“I miss your folds, Joanna.”

“You’re getting me hot.”

“Great. Stay that way for a few days, baby.”

“Will do. Time to go. Love, Joanna”

“You’ll be coming soon. Love, Tristan.”

“YES!” I text then shut my phone down to give the attendant my boarding pass. I look at Janelle with a gleam in my eye.  

“I see that Tristan really likes you, Joanna. He could hardly take his eyes from yours at Luigi’s on Saturday night. Now he’s lavishing you and me with these favors. You must have some serious mojo going on,” Janelle jokes as we find our seats in first class. I laugh but say nothing more.

“Tristan’s so generous and loving but we’ve had our problems, too,” I confide and then add, “Looks like things are going well with Edwin. You had that star-struck look on your face at the restaurant, girl.” 

Janelle smiles about her own love life and is about to say more but is interrupted by the flight attendant who gives us each a drink and settles us into our seats with pillows and a perky smile. We’ve brought our IPads along for the conference. We even have a chance to read and discuss some new therapies while on the five hour flight. Ryan who’s in coach class with his wife, Nancy, would be proud of us. Our flight goes smoothly. We arrive at LaGuardia airport around dinner time.

After checking in at the Marriott and registering for the convention, we head to our room. Its modest in size but the view of Times Square from the 18th floor really thrills us. Ryan and Nancy accompany us to a popular restaurant used by many at the conference. Ryan introduces us to quite a few of his colleagues in the therapy field. There are so many young graduate students and analysts around my age at the place.

Janelle and I sit at the end of a long dining table with nearly thirty other psychologists crowded around it. Three younger men in their twenties gravitate toward Janelle and me. We meet Chris, Michael and Omar. It’s also their first time at the annual conference. The excitement about what’s to come runs high. The guys work at a large and important psychiatric hospital in the Midwest and are energetic as well as friendly.

We talk about our jobs and joke about the titles of the conference sessions. The dinner actually doesn’t break up until around midnight when we head back to our hotels. Janelle and I walk back together and fall asleep quickly. I know Hawk lurks about somewhere but we can’t even see him, given the crowds of people that walk around near Times Square.

On Tuesday, Janelle and I get involved in the convention by listening to various speakers, participating in small discussion groups and learning about the latest treatment trends from other therapists. By noon, I feel overwhelmed with information and am truly ready for a breather. We find a small café to decompress in just half a block down from the Marriott. Janelle and I talk about the ideas that will help TTP move forward in our changing and competitive field. Our jobs involve finding and nurturing therapies and methods that will appeal to both our clients and the younger, more experimental, therapists.

It’s midafternoon when we hear the second keynote speaker talk about the breakthrough ketamine injections and nearly instant recovery from depression. We notice Chris and Michael in the crowd of people listening to the speech. We meet up afterwards and head to a reception sponsored by an international drug company. The drinks and hors d'oeuvres help us mix with dozens of other professionals from the field.

Then it’s back to a breakout session focused on interns and listening skills. Janelle heads to another session on career strategies. Michael and I are the newest hires at our firms so we attend those session together. He’s quite friendly but I respond in what I hope is a reserved manner. As we finish our training, Michael asks what I’m doing for dinner.

“I need to check with Janelle. We’ve got tickets to a Broadway show tonight.” I stall. Just then Janelle approaches me with enthusiasm. She’s found Omar.

“Omar’s heard about a funky little Ethiopian place for dinner. Would the two of you like to join us? Chris and another friend may meet us there around 6pm,” Janelle buzzes with energy.

Tristan won’t be happy to know that I’ve gone to dinner with other men. I’m not going to sit in my room eating something from room service. After all, I won’t be alone and Janelle is here. We head to the restaurant as a group. I check my phone for messages but none appear. I guess Tristan’s meetings in San Diego take most of his time since it’s only mid-afternoon there.

At dinner, I’m seated next to Michael. His face lights up with a dazzling smile as we sit side by side. His eyes zone in on mine in an unmistakable signal of interest. He looks good with his dark brown hair pulled back into a pony tail and blue eyes. If I weren’t in love with Tristan, I’d be hot for him.

He keeps the focus on us. “I just graduated from the University of Chicago with a degree in behavioral science. But, I’d give the fingernails on my right hand to find a job in San Diego. What do you think of your job?”

I blush a bit at the attention he’s giving me. “I’ve only been at TTP for a week but things look promising. I love it after just a few days, though.” I try very hard not to flirt and to be professional.

“I’m hoping to settle in southern California  eventually. You’ve got to tell me more about San Diego, Joanna.” His friendly gaze never leaves my face. I certainly hope Hawk isn’t taking pictures of us as we talk over dinner.

“Welcome to the gang. Who doesn’t want to live there? I just moved to Mission Beach a few weeks ago but I know a fair amount about it already. What would you like to know?” I begin.

Michael and I talk for about 45 minutes. His interest in San Diego’s impressive because he’s done a lot of reading about it. I tell him about the Mission Beach area with art galleries and restaurants, then the parks and sculptures near the bay, the different water sports that are popular, the deserts in the eastern part of the state, and the music scene. He’s listening to every word I say. I’ve hardly asked him any questions though.

The meal and his company are fun and time flies.  At 7:30pm, I nudge Janelle to leave for the theatre. We wave goodbye to the group and attend a play called ‘The Analyst’ at the Coronado Playhouse which tells the story of the early days of psychoanalysis and the Freudian approach to therapy. It’s in line with what I’ve learned from the history of psychology in college. We both enjoy the play.

At 10:30pm, we walk straight back to our hotel. As we walk, I feel someone’s eyes upon us. I assume it’s just Luke Hawk doing his job. Just before I fall asleep, my phone pings and there’s a text from Tristan. My heart soars and I’m like a giddy teenager.

“PCC has opened up again after repairs.”

“Great. I can’t wait to see it and you.”

“Are you back on Wed? ”

“No, Thursday at noon.”

“Miss you. Can’t wait until then. Love, T.”

“See you soon. Love, J.”

“Same here. T.”

“XOXXX, Joanna.”

I sleep well after reading his texts. He’s so romantic and open.

On Wednesday, we attend a few more sessions and listen to the last of the keynote lectures before the conference ends at 5pm. Ryan, Nancy and a few of their colleagues invite me and Janelle to a final dinner at a trendy but well-priced Italian restaurant called Fratelli’s. To our surprise, Ryan picks up the entire bill, after we share our ideas about what we found interesting. The training at this convention has been so helpful. Janelle and I go back to our hotel around 8:30pm. Just before we enter the lobby, though, I decide that I want to shop for a gift for Tristan.

“Janelle, why don’t you go ahead to our hotel while I do some last minute shopping,” I suggest. “I want to buy something unique for Tristan but it may take me awhile to choose.”

She yawns and gives me the OK while waving, “See you in a while then!”

I remember passing a small souvenir shop a few doors from the Marriott and walk toward it. Since many people are still walking around, I feel completely comfortable on my own. Luckily, the shop is well-lit and open for hours. I breeze inside to consider their options. I drift up and down the aisles looking for just the right idea. Finally, my eyes land upon what I hope will be an inspiring gift. Just as I am about to buy it, Michael walks into the shop. He heads directly for me.

“Buying some last minute souvenirs, Joanna?” he’s jokes and smiles with affection.

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave NYC without finding something for my boyfriend,” I emphasize the last word hoping he’ll get the hint. I purchase the item and place it in my bag while we talk.

Michael looks crestfallen at the mention of my boyfriend.

“I knew you were too good to be true. So, you have a serious boyfriend?”

I nod my head vigorously. “Yeah, we’re pretty tight.”

“I understand, and can respect that. I was hoping I’d have a chance with you but he’s beat me to it. Well, I’ll walk you back to your hotel,” he offers. I agree and we start walking back toward the Marriott together. Michael’s such a nice guy.