Kissed (6 page)

The way he spoke lacked the pretentiousness I would expect to hear from a man rattling off an impressive background like that. He was clearly not trying to impress me at all. If anything, he was simply being blunt.

“I’ve been working very unassumedly in this field ever since. The political game is usually played by more seasoned men than me. Given my profession works best when I can stay in the shadows, my younger age has worked to my advantage. I’m not seen as a threat; I’m not seen as a player at all, and in fact, I’m not. I’m the most bi-partisan man in Washington D.C. In fact, it’s likely safer to say I’m non-partisan altogether.”

I nodded slowly. “And this is profitable for you?”

He smirked. “Very. And I stay busy. I already have more work on the back burner waiting for me in D.C.”

“Another man who can’t control his cock?”

He chuckled. “No. Believe it or not, David’s something of a unique case for me. PR I’m very used to. Babysitting a man’s cock, I’m not. Don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of men in politics who like to step out on their wives and family, just none so defiantly and recklessly as David.” He sighed. “When I return to D.C., I’ll be working with a special interest group on a campaign they’re getting ready to launch early next year. They’ll be endorsing a particular senatorial candidate, and they want some pre-emptive research and planning done.”

“How old are you?” I hadn’t actually thought of it before now. The men I was usually with didn’t pay me to care about their age, and I’d learned not to ask. Actually, what I’d learned was that men could be just as sensitive about their aging as women could be.

“I just turned thirty-three.”

The waiter arrived with our check, and I charged it to the room. Keegan offered me his hand and helped me from my chair, and as we walked back to the elevators, he kept that same hand on my lower back, gently touching and arousing me.

“I’m going to take a shower. Do I have to worry about you disappearing on me?” He glanced over his shoulder at me. We’d just entered the bedroom of the suite.

I said nothing for a moment, but I eventually shook my head. “No.”

He watched me as if deciding whether or not he believed me, but then he turned and walked into the bathroom. I listened to the shower as I took my clothes off. I hung the dress back up in the closet, and I dropped my bra and underwear on the chair beside the bed. I pulled the bedding back and climbed in. I lay on my stomach, staring out the large picture window to the Chicago lights twinkling around me, and not once during that time did I think of leaving—quite simply because I didn’t want to.

When I closed my eyes, I drifted off before I could stop myself.

In my dreams, I kissed him. I kissed him over and over again, and it wasn’t until I woke that I realized it wasn’t really a dream at all but something that fell somewhere between dreamland and the real world. His lips were on mine, pulling and sucking, and his hands were all over my body, moving, groping, caressing.

“Oh God,” I whimpered out, and he pulled his mouth from mine. I could feel his breath still touching my lips as he panted, but the room was too dark to see him. The lights of the city beyond the window cast a moving, dancing twinkle across the room, but it just wasn’t enough to capture the image of him.

When he kissed me again, it was slower, gentler, and there was a hesitance to it. He wasn’t asking my permission after all. He was simply taking something I’d already refused to give him.

His mouth moved off to my ear, and he nipped my earlobe as his hands trailed down to my breasts. He squeezed them, and then his mouth was descending, kissing and licking as it went until he pulled my nipple into his mouth. He sucked as his hands continued to squeeze, and he moaned quietly as his mouth moved from one breast to the other.

And then he descended farther. His hands always stayed a step ahead of his mouth, groping, massaging, exploring as he moved down my body, and when he pulled my legs apart, I started trembling. He kissed my stomach as his hands snaked under my thighs and his fingers gripped into my hips.

His mouth moved lower, and my sex warmed and pulsed. This wasn’t something I did. Most men didn’t want this from me, and on the rare occasion they did, I would distract them quickly and avoid it. But I was waiting desperately for Keegan’s mouth, to the point that my insides ached in need. When he slid his tongue between my lips, I cried out this strangled, gasping moan. He licked slowly and hummed against my skin, and my hips were moving, pressing my sex harder to him as I writhed. He pushed his tongue into me, his moan muffled as he thrust and licked, and when he moved up to my clit, he started to lash at those nerves.

I whimpered, I begged, I cried out as he pleasured me until one blinding moment when my core exploded around him and I came. I grabbed his hands, letting my nails dig into his skin as I twitched through my release. He climbed up my body, wedging his knees under my thighs as he leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the condom there. I listened as he tore into the packet, and I closed my eyes, waiting for him as I caught my breath.

He brought his face to mine, and I caught the subtle scent of my arousal on his lips. He crushed my mouth with his the second he slammed hard into me, driving himself all the way to my core. He groaned through the kiss, and then he fucked, hard and fast, as his lips pulled on mine and his tongue thrust into my mouth. I sucked on it, and he moaned louder.

When he came, he cried out against my mouth, and I could feel the tremble in his lips as his body released the tension. His kisses became gentle again, but they didn’t stop, and he rolled our bodies to our sides as he clutched at my cheek and held my mouth to his. I’d never imagined kissing could be so amazing. I didn’t want to close my eyes tight against it and pretend it away because it was exactly what I wanted it to be. I’m pretty sure, when I fell asleep again, he was still licking and sucking on my lips.

I woke early the next morning, but I was alone. There was a note on the nightstand.

You’re right not to sell them. They’re priceless.

KL

His phone number was written below the message, and there was cash there to cover the cost of the hotel room. I held the note, staring at it for a moment. I dressed quickly and left, tossing the note in the garbage as I walked out.

Chapter 5

Keegan

“I
fail to see why you take such issue with a single man acting like…well…a single man.”

I gaped at David as I sat across from him at his desk holding a stack of papers. “Single men don’t pay fifteen hundred dollars a night for a woman’s company.” I glared at him. I was holding his bank statement in my hand.

“I pay a hell of lot more than that,” he remarked under his breath.

I gaped at him. “What does that mean?”

David sighed as he looked at me scornfully. “Three thousand a week to keep her off the menu. And I still have to prefund an account to cover her costs when I do see her, which is once every week or two at most.” He propped his hands behind his head, lounging back in his chair smugly. The fact that he could discuss such things without batting an eye was disconcerting.

“Let me get this straight. You’re paying in excess of fifteen thousand dollars a month, the majority of which is paid simply to make sure she’s not fucking other men, and she’s getting paid…” I bobbled my head as I did the math. “What? Five thousand a month? I’m guessing she gets no share of that three-thousand-dollar retainer fee, right?”

He snorted. “She gets paid less than that.
I
pay fifteen hundred every night I spend with her. That doesn’t mean
she
gets that much. Her cut is two-thirds of that if I’m not mistaken.”

I nodded, clenching my jaw tight. “So she’s getting three thousand a month at the most, and you’re also costing her lost business by paying them to keep her unavailable, of which she gets no financial benefit. What part of this is fair to her?”

“Fair?” He actually laughed when he said it. “It’s really not my job to worry about her finances. She’s a big girl.” He glared at me for a moment. “You know I spend more on new suits in a month than I spend on her. And, by the way, this company is untraceable. I fund an account with them in cash, they debit the account as needed, and they send me an indecipherable text when my account runs low. I email them when I want to see her from a free email account under a false name. They pay her share to her…well, I don’t know how they pay her; it’s really not my problem at that point. They’re very discreet.”

I shook my head, staring up at the ceiling far above me. His office was in downtown, and like everything else in his life, it was opulent, extravagant, overdone. “
Everything
is traceable, David.” I stared back down, scanning the last couple months. “There are two
twenty-thousand
-dollar withdrawals in the last couple months. Is that what prefunding an account with them amounts to?”

David smirked. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have a rather large surplus of funds in the account at the moment.”

I propped my hands on the back of my head as I glared at him. “What are you going to do when a picture of the two of you hits the society pages of the
Chicago Sun Times
? You think I don’t check every day to make sure your face doesn’t pop up alongside hers…or some other inappropriate woman, for that matter?”

David harrumphed smugly. “Gee, maybe I’ll tell them I have a lovely girlfriend, whom I’ll conveniently break up with in a few months when I’m tired of her. Is that justification enough for you?”

“And how exactly do you
justify
her age?”

“I don’t know. How about, ‘she looks older than she is’? Is that good enough for you? Better yet, how about, ‘I value the caliber of people I spend time with not based on their age alone but who they are as a person,’” he said mockingly. “Listen, I’m usually too busy fucking her to show her off at fundraisers and events. It’s not like I’m seen with her that often, so how about you stop being so paranoid and obsessing about the millions of things that will likely never go wrong? Because, guess what, it annoys the hell out of me.”

I gritted my teeth as I stared back at him. I wanted to punch him at the moment and not likely for the right reasons. He was being an ass. That I was used to. Hell, I could even handle that. But he’d also just planted a rather ugly image of himself plowing the hell out of her in my mind, and now, well, now I wanted to break his nose. Instead, I inhaled slowly and did my best to release the fury with the air in my lungs. “I'm paid to obsess about those things because you can’t be trusted to.”

He scoffed as he looked away dismissively. “I have a flight to catch in a few hours. Do you intend to accompany me to Dallas, or do you think my cock and I can be trusted for five days?” He stood, grabbing his suit jacket off the back of his chair and slipping it up his arms and over his shoulders. He eyed me coldly as I remained seated.

“I don’t know.” I leaned back in the chair I was sitting in. “I suppose it depends on how many hookers you intend to fuck or how many strip clubs you’ll be visiting.”

David laughed quietly. “You must be kidding, right? I would never go to a strip club.” He tugged the cuff of his shirt down below the wrist of his suit jacket. “The strip club would come to me.” He started to walk away, leaving me to stare at his desk and the mountain of paperwork sitting there. “Oh, I forgot to mention.” He stepped back to me. “I have a prostate exam next week when I get back in town. Should I expect you for that? I mean, that is tantamount to what you do for a living, isn’t it?” And then he did walk away.

“Fucking prick,” I said under my breath when his door closed.

I sat there motionless for a while, stewing in irritation. It was mid-week following the night I’d spent with Gabrielle, and every moment I spent with David made me want to retell every second of that night in vivid detail while David was tied up immobile to a chair. I very much wanted to teach him a lesson.

Yet, for some reason, I wasn’t willing to do it yet.

I had little patience for people who lacked self-control. Actually, that wasn’t true. I wouldn’t have a job if every man in the world understood restraint and self-control. What I had little patience for was a narcissistic man who wouldn’t take my good advice. David very clearly fell in that category.

When I stood, I rounded David’s desk, rapping my fingertips along the desktop as I moved. His computer screen was still awake, and I reached down, touching the mouse to ensure it would stay awake for a bit longer. I turned around, staring out the large office window behind the desk, and pulses of electric need surged through my body.

I sat at the desk, pulling up David’s browser history. When I found the “free” email service in the history, I clicked on it. A mailbox popped up. It was the same exact tactic I’d used last time I set up a “date” with Gabe. David was right, the email address he’d set up was an address and name as nondescript as the one I was getting ready to send an email to. The problem was it wouldn’t matter if anyone ever chose to trace the IP address. And if I was able to find the mailbox in his browser history, what’s to say someone else couldn’t as well?

None of those concerns stopped my cock from getting hard as I typed the message.

7PM with Gabrielle at Fresh on N. Green Street tomorrow night.

I hit Send.

I tried to work while I waited for a response, but it proved impossible, and I ended up staring at the email, waiting, drumming my fingertips on the desktop impatiently. When that became too much, I spun his chair around and gazed off at the city around me. It was expansive, it was tall, it was even overwhelming at times, and somewhere out there was a young woman with the most kissable lips I’d ever seen.

I wanted that mouth again.

When David’s email alert dinged, I swiveled the chair back around.

Forward From: G.

I’ll see you at 7.