by Roxie Rivera
Seduced by the Congressman 2
By Roxie Rivera
Copyright © 2012 by Roxie Rivera
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Seduced By the Loan Shark Excerpt
Roxie's Backlist
About Roxie
Chapter One
I couldn't believe it when the parting doors to the hotel elevator revealed Jack Richmond. The hotshot conservative politician, the absolute darling of his party, leaned back against the gleaming wood and tapped away at his cell phone's touch screen. He glanced up and his expression changed from one of pure boredom to intense interest. For the briefest of moments, he let that calm, cool façade slip. It was lust and need that flashed in his eyes. My heart stuttered and my lower belly wobbled as I stepped into the small box. Silently, I willed no one else to join us.
How long had it been since we'd been alone together? Eight days? Had it really been that long since I'd felt his fingertips gliding along my skin? Since that night Jack had seduced me at a political fundraiser, we'd been carrying on an illicit relationship. A secret rendezvous here, a few stolen moments there—our clandestine assignations added a different level of excitement to our fledgling relationship.
Somehow, he'd managed to convince me to tag along with my father to the party's political convention. Frankly, I'd have rather booked a wisdom tooth extraction sans anesthesia than sit through days of campaigning and speeches but Jack had turned on that mega-watt charm and I'd become putty in his skillful hands.
But seeing him every day at this damn political convention and being unable to touch him was driving me insane. I swallowed hard and tried to still my trembling hands as I stood next to him. I grasped my clutch a little tighter and dared to glance at Jack. He smiled that sexy, sinful grin of his. "Where are you going, Bee?"
"Out." My lips curved in a mischievous grin as I was deliberately vague. "You?"
"Out." He parroted my reply and moved a little closer. Our hands brushed together and I nearly fainted. I could feel his hungry gaze as it roamed my curves. "You look good enough to eat, sugar."
I glanced down at my curve-hugging black leather dress. It had a low-cut V-neck and short hem. Still, it was far more modest than what I typically wore to a club. "I had to negotiate with Daddy just to get out of our hotel suite."
Jack snorted with amusement. "You used his own game against him?"
I laughed. "He seemed shocked at how easily I outmaneuvered him in oru negotiations. You'd think he'd remember that I learned from the very best. By the time I was three, I was negotiating with my nanny for extra snacks and toys." I combed my fingers through my long, loose hair. "Tonight, I gave him a choice between this dress or the blue mini-dress with the crisscross back. Needless to say, he chose the lesser of two evils." Remembering my father's look of utter consternation, I grinned. "Daddy wasn’t thrilled."
Jack grunted. "I'm not exactly thrilled that other men are going to be seeing and dancing with you when I can't even touch you."
Even though it was kind of fun to make him suffer with jealousy, I decided to let him know the truth. "I'm going to the Get Pride party. The men I dance with tonight probably aren't going to be interested in me. They'll be interested in dancing with the other men there."
"Maybe but now I've got to worry about the women. And there are some awfully sexy women headed to that party," he added softly, his Southern drawl tickling my ear as he leaned close to inhale my scent. "Especially Kerry."
I couldn't argue that one. Kerry, one of the co-chairs of the party's GLBT organization, took my breath away every time I saw her. She had a million-dollar personality that just lit up a room. If ever I was tempted to give into my curiosity, she'd be the first woman I'd approach. I figured she could teach me a thing or two about satisfaction.
Jack tilted his head. "Are you attracted to Kerry?"
I avoided his curious gaze. "Maybe."
"Have you ever--?"
Now I turned my annoyed gaze on him. "Are you really asking me that question in a public elevator?"
"So that's a yes." He looked ridiculously amused. Tapping my finger, he asked, "Should I be worried about you getting cozy with Kerry tonight?"
I shrugged and tossed my hair over my shoulder. "Let's just say I'm feeling a bit neglected. A little attention from a beautiful woman and you might just be another notch on my bedpost, Congressman."
Jack started to inch closer but the elevator dinged and came to a halt on the fourth floor. I scooted just far enough away from him to make it look innocent. Inwardly, I groaned as five convention-goers piled into the elevator. So much for our playful banter!
The new arrivals turned the elevator into a meet-and-greet session. Jack embraced his role as party poster boy and schmoozed like no one else could. Stuck in the corner, I marveled at his ability to switch into campaign mode. He had a shocking knack for politics.
For so many years, I'd wrongly assumed this character, this slick, aloof, conservative politician, was the real Jack Richmond. How wrong I'd been! Jack, my Jack, was warm and funny and irreverent. Somehow, he managed to be the darling of the right while at the same time proving to me that he wasn't simply his politics or his campaign platform. The real Jack Richmond, the man who'd ensnared me with one shocking kiss backstage at a fundraiser, was multi-faceted and complex.
Of course, my Jack and this Jack shared some common traits. Both men could make you feel as if you were the only person in a crowded room. Right now, Jack listened intently as a delegate from his home state spoke to him. Both Jacks showed such passion and kindness. My Jack and this politician version of Jack both cared deeply about people and causes. There was nothing fake about him. He was real and honest and incredibly loyal.
We reached the bottom floor and poured out into the lobby. Jack's hand purposely brushed against mine as I squeezed through the parted doors. I fought the urge to snatch up his fingers and drag him after me into some secret, secluded space. Instead, I pushed by him and tried to get away from his admiring throng of supporters.
Before I could escape, I was wrangled into snapping pictures for Jack's gaggle of fans. I juggled cell phones and cameras until everyone had the pictures they wanted to share on their social networks. When it was all over, I handed back the phones and cameras. I caught sight of Clark, Jack's campaign manager, hovering nearby. I recognized my cue to beat it. "I'll see you around, Jack."
"Are you leaving now?"
I nodded. "The party has already started."
He frowned. "You're going alone?"
"Sure. Why?"
"What about your father's driver? And his guards?" Jack glanced around the lobby as if expecting to find the hulking men my father employed to keep him safe hiding behind the marble columns.
"Daddy took them to that dinner downtown. There was some issue with protestors about the drones the company builds and that missile prototype. You know how that goes."
"And Rick?" He named my usual driver. "Did he go with them?"
I shook my head. "He has family h
ere in town. I gave him the night off. It's no big deal, Jack. I'm a big girl. I can find a cab."
"I don't think so." Jack spoke in that firm tone I'd come to recognize as the final-word voice. "I'll take you."
Clark stepped closer and cleared his throat. "You'll be late for your meeting, Jack."
Jack's gaze never left mine. "Then I'll have to make my apologies. I'm not letting her traipse around town in the rain, alone, in a strange city."
I frowned at the way he made me sound like a helpless little kid. I'd done a year of college abroad and backpacked through South America the summer after high school graduation. I wasn't exactly helpless or naïve. Hailing a cab in a mid-sized city ranked fairly low on my danger scale.
But I said nothing. I didn't dare protest Jack's over-protectiveness. I recognized it for what it was. He'd skillfully engineered a way to be alone with me, even if just for a few minutes in the back of a private car.
Jack turned to Clark. "You go on ahead. I'll have Bobby drive us to the Get Pride party first. It's on the way."
Clark knew better than to argue with his old friend. He sighed loudly and nodded. "I'll see you there." He tapped Jack's arm. "Brush up on your speech, okay?"
"Will do."
And just like that we were alone again. He offered me his arm. I smiled coyly and slipped my arm through his. It was probably the only time I'd be able to touch him in public without causing too many wagging tongues. His scent, that woodsy mix of sandalwood and cedar I'd grown to crave, enveloped me. I wanted nothing more than to burrow close to his heat and strength. For now, I was content to simply be close to him as he walked me out of the hotel.
Under the porte-cochere, we waited for one of his team's private cars. A hotel valet opened the rear door on the SUV. I hopped inside with Jack's steadying hand against my lower back. When I was safely in place, he walked around to the other side. I buckled my seat belt as he gave Bobby the driving plan. I eyed the space between us and wistfully wished it didn't exist. I wanted to be shoulder-to-shoulder with him. At least the tinted windows gave us a little privacy from the outside world but there would be no escaping Bobby's prying eyes.
If only we were in one of my family's private cars! Daddy liked to conduct business on the move. The fleet we owned had nifty partitions between the driver and the passenger area. With that piece of darkly tinted glass in place, one could get up to all sorts of hijinks in the backseat. I so wanted to engage in some risqué hijinks with Jack.
Big fat rain drops splattered the SUV's exterior. They slammed into the windows and dribbled down the glass in broken streams. I stared at them while trying to figure out what we could possibly say with an audience of one just a few feet away.
I stifled a gasp at the unexpected sensation of Jack's hand on my knee. I didn't dare drag my gaze away from the window. Any quick movements would no doubt draw Bobby's gaze. Jack's fingertips grazed my inner thigh as his hand inched slowly along my leg. I held my breath and tried to slow my racing heart.
"How are you enjoying the convention so far?" His voice remained cool and relaxed, never once betraying just what was going on in the darkened back seat.
"It's getting more interesting," I answered honestly and finally tore my gaze away from the window. Our heated gazes clashed in the pale orange light cast off from the passing street lamps. "The endless speeches are boring as hell but tonight is promising a bit more excitement."
Jack's lips twitched with amusement. "I hear this Get Pride party is going to be hot."
"Then why aren't you going?" That wasn't playful banter. I actually wanted to know why he was avoiding a chance to show he openly accepted the GLBT community.
"It's complicated." His fingers moved even higher up my thigh and touched the soft silk of my thong.
I squeezed my thighs together, trapping his hand and forcing him to look at me. "It's really not, Jack." Feeling a bit brave, I said, "I wish you wouldn't dismiss this segment of your party's supporters. You're just confirming what the other side has always said."
"And what's that?"
"That you're a party of bigots and elitists and so on," I said with a wave of my hand. "I know that's not true. I know you. This Jack Richmond," I gestured to my lap and his trapped hand, "accepts and loves everyone." I pointed to some campaign materials tucked into the pouch on the back of the closest seat. "That Jack Richmond who parrots the party line sometimes comes across as a huge dick."
A snort from the front seat reminded us that we weren't really alone. Even cloaked in semi-darkness, we had an audience.
I could tell Jack was biting back a retort about the huge dick remark. Knowing him, he had a naughty little zinger burning the tip of his tongue. Instead, he lowered his voice and asked, "What do you want me to do?"
I sat back in stunned silence. "You're asking me for campaign advice?"
I could just barely make out the confused frown contorting his face. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Um, maybe because Clark keeps looking at me like I'm some kind of liberal mole?"
Jack grunted with annoyance. He forced my thighs wider apart and slipped two fingers under the thin scrap of fabric guarding my pussy. My lips parted on a shaky breath as he pierced me with his intense gaze. "We both know that's not true—and Clark is suspicious of anyone under twenty-five."
"I think you should go to the party." I gave my piece of advice as his fingers slowly circled my clit. The nub became inflamed with need. I dared to glance at Bobby's head but he was focused on navigating the busy night traffic. His music, an old school rock station, provided just enough noise to muffle my increased breathing. "I know you're whipping your challenger in the polls and winning over new voters isn't an issue for your race—but it would be good to show your constituents that you represent all of them."
He regarded me for a moment. "I agree."
"But?" I tried to ignore the wicked sensation of his fingers swirling around my clit.
"I've got this dinner tonight. I've got to do a speech. It's a whole thing."
His fingertips moved faster now. I clenched the edge of the seat and tried to speak without letting my voice wobble. "And after?"
"After what?"
"The dinner thing," I clarified. My breaths grew deeper and tighter. I gripped the seat so hard my fingertips tingled. Flutters of panic rippled low in my belly. The rat bastard was about to make me come in the backseat of his private car—and I couldn't make any noise. Me, the screamer, unable to issue even a peep!
"We'll see."
Amusement filled his voice. I couldn't believe he was doing this to me, right here, right now. I held his gaze in the darkened interior, his dark eyes glinting as we passed under street lights. Bliss coiled low and tight in my core. I held my breath as the first wave of pleasure engulfed me. My eyelids drifted together and I welcomed the privacy of darkness as I came against his flicking fingertips.
Dizziness overcame me so I dragged a slow, quiet breath into my oxygen-starved lungs. Still shaking silently, I lifted my gaze to his. Jack stared at me with such intensity that I shuddered. He looked like he wanted to just eat me right up. Visions of Jack shoving me onto my back and flipping up my skirt to get between my thighs raced through my mind and left me aching with desire.
Jack slowly removed his hand from between my thighs. I swallowed hard and tried to get my trembling body back under control. I didn't know what to say. I'd just come in the backseat of an SUV while a driver sat just a few feet away from us, apparently oblivious to what was happening.
Almost on cue, Bobby asked, "You want me to pull around back, Jack?"
I shot him a warning glare. Jack's mouth curved in a lazy grin. "No, Bobby. Pull up front."
"Sure thing."
I relaxed at the knowledge that Jack wasn't going to just shove me out of his SUV in some back alley. "You can just let me out at the sidewalk."
He shook his head. "I'll walk you inside."
"You don't have to," I quickly assured him.
"I wa
nt to, Bee."
"But—"
He shook his head. "It's fine, Phoebe. I've been a friend of your family for years. It's not unusual for us to be seen at political functions. If I get snapped walking you inside, there will be some wagging tongues but it's nothing I can't handle." He lowered his voice until I could only just hear him. "I told you before, Bee. I'm not afraid to go public with you."
But I was. I think Jack realized it was my fears that were holding us back. He was just gentlemanly and patient enough not to pressure me one way or the other.
The SUV rolled to a stop outside the club's entrance. Jack's fingertips trailed along my cheek. He turned my face toward his. "Are you going to behave tonight?"
Feeling impish, I grinned. "Not on your life."
Chapter Two
Hours later, I knocked back another shot and danced my way out into the center of the packed floor. Never one to get sloppy drunk, I'd paced myself and turned down most of the free drinks I'd been offered. I found the small group I'd been hanging out with all night. Most of them were college-aged campaign volunteers. A few were kids of politicians or party bigwigs. We'd naturally gravitated toward one another.
As I danced with wild abandon, I caught sight of Kerry Thompson, the co-chair of the Get Pride organization. She stood on a raised dais on the edge of the club and surveyed the throng of dancers. I had to give it to her. She'd planned and executed one of the best parties of the year. As someone who spent more than her fair share club hopping and attending galas and fundraisers, that was saying something.
Tonight, Kerry wore a glittery gold dress that highlighted her dark skin so beautifully. She had knockout curves and the most sensual lips. It definitely wasn't dress or shoe envy that kept my gaze glued to her. There was just something about the older woman that intrigued me. The way she'd ensnared me reminded me of a siren.
Like a lot of co-eds, I'd done my fair share of experimenting with other women. I'd always enjoyed the experiences and craved more of them. Just looking at Kerry sent white hot currents of desire rushing through me. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to taste her mouth, to slide my fingers through her hair, to feel her lips against my neck.