Sex, Lies & Black Tie

by Kris Calvert

  “Honestly, not much of anything. Then I take them home.”

  “Wait,” I said take a gulp. “Hold the phone. You’re not—you know—getting busy?”

  Boone laughed and I was suddenly ashamed of myself for asking the question, let alone in the manner I’d chosen to do it.

  “Please excuse me, Boone. I had no right to ask that or in that way. I’m completely—I don’t know—sorry?”

  “Don’t be. I’m thankful I can finally say to someone that I’m not having sex because I’m afraid of what will happen or who they will tell. Do you know how many guys on the Hill have to sweep affairs and other indiscretions under the rug?”

  “No. How many?”

  There it was again. My unfiltered mouth. I suddenly felt like Mimi, just letting whatever was in my head slip from my lips—and at a rapid pace.

  “A lot. I can’t sleep with anyone without worrying the tabloids will pick up on it, or the girl will talk, or worse—that she’s a plant for someone else. Sex is tricky business in D.C.—clearly,” he said pointing to himself.

  “So you don’t? Like ever?” I asked, taking another sip of wine.

  “Well I am a man, you know. And men have needs.”

  “Don’t say you use a hooker, please don’t say you use a hooker,” I said closing my eyes, relaxing into the gentle breeze and the serene feeling that had overtaken me with the last two cups of wine. “You know, B—that’s what you wanted me to call you, right? B?”

  “Sure,” he said with a sweet smile.

  “Do you think there’s more wine in a plastic cup as opposed to in a regular wine glass? Because I’m really feeling the effects of it pretty—darn—fast,” I said landing on each word deliberately.

  “I don’t think so. Maybe you should eat a little something,” he said looking at my full plate.

  “Yeah. You’re probably right.” I took a small bite of the barbeque and thought of Dax asking for it specifically. He was so much like Mac.

  “So tell me more. How are we going to fix this problem of yours?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Do you have a twin sister? Because frankly, Sam, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Don’t get me wrong,” he said without taking a breath. “I’m fully aware of the fact that you’re a happily married woman and you’re not the least bit interested in me. It’s probably one of the reasons I feel so inclined to tell you things I’d never tell a woman.”

  “That’s sweet Boone. It is. But I’m not the only woman out there that’s like me. And honestly, I’m no picnic either.”

  “I think you might be. I hope Mac realizes what he has in you.”

  I looked down and smiled, thinking of my husband. “He does. I promise, he does.”

  “I care about you Samantha. I adore you. I worship you. In my eyes you can do no wrong. But I do all of that from afar. And frankly, I don’t know that any woman will ever measure up to everything I think you are—everything I want in a woman for myself.”

  His words washed over me and I had a hard time ignoring them. If any other man had ever said what he was saying to me, I would’ve raised an eyebrow and politely told him to back off. I didn’t know if it was because he was so handsome, if his honesty hit a familiar chord with me, or if maybe—just maybe—I was a little upset with Mac for leaving me alone to take care of the one woman in his life who truly didn’t care for me—Micah. I took a deep breath and stared into Boone’s face.

  “Boone, darlin’” I began. “We hardly know one another and as my grandmother would say, my cow died last night, so I don’t need your bull.”

  Boone let out a loud belly laugh, pulling the pocket knife from his jeans again, opening the second bottle of wine. “See? You are perfect. Beautiful, smart and tough, never letting anyone get the best of you. You’d be the perfect political mate.”

  “Except for the fact that I’ve got my perfect mate. And I’m not interested in politics—not even in the slightest.”

  Boone let my comment hang in the air without answering me. He stared into my eyes and I didn’t drop his gaze. I wanted him to know I meant what I said, even if I did sympathize with his plight.

  “Of course,” he said breaking the silence.

  Looking down, I realized his plate was clean. Mine was still full. What wasn’t full was my plastic cup. In all my nervousness, I’d drained it again. It was official. I was tipsy. I closed my eyes, lifting my face to what was left of the warm sun and took a deep breath trying to clear the alcohol-fueled hum from my head and get my thoughts straight. I didn’t want to be hateful to Boone—after all I did need to work with him. But I also didn’t want to give energy to any false ideas he might’ve cooked up in his head. I thought of what Mimi had once told me. Being kind is the easiest and most honest thing you can do to help a person. No matter what. Be kind.

  “Tell me what I can do to help you, Boone.”

  Boone poured me another cup of wine, and I watched the sun dip into the sky and thought of the first night Mac and I spent in this very spot. Gazing at the bench to my left, I remembered my first kiss with the man who turned out to be my knight in shining armor. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes again—ignoring the wine in my cup.

  “You know what you can do for me, Sam?”

  “Tell me.” I replied, opening them again.

  “Be my friend. And when the time comes and I find someone, you can meet her and tell me if you think she’s the one.”

  “Well, sir,” I said slurring my words. “I can certainly give someone the Sam seal of approval, but mind you—she’s going to have to be pretty damn spectacular if she’s going to be good enough for my new best friend, Boone.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Boone, I think you’re wonderful. Someone will come along some day and knock your socks off.”

  “I hope so. And I think you’re wonderful too, Samantha.”

  “You know what else?”

  “What?”

  “I think I might be a little drunk. Can you drive the farm truck back to the house? I would hate to take out the tent tonight,” I said with a short laugh that quickly turned into an obnoxious snort.

  “For you,” he said gathering up what was left of our wine and dinner, “Anything.”

  17

  SAMANTHA

  My vision was a little blurry as I ran the water in the master bathtub. Dropping my clothes to the floor, I opened the silver box of bath crystals and poured a handful in, immediately smelling the lavender tones that filled the room.

  After piling my hair on my head, I reached for my phone, stubbing my toe on the claw foot of the tub. It was nearly nine o’clock. I’d not spoken with Mac since the morning, and I was now tired, tipsy, and horny.

  “Hello beautiful,” he drawled, his tone deep and rife with tension. “I miss you.”

  Steam poured off the water, topped with a thin layer of bubbles, and I turned off the faucet and sat on the edge of the old tub, trailing my fingers along the surface to check the temperature. “Come home. I promise you a hero’s welcome.”

  Slipping one foot in at a time, I lowered my entire body into the hot water, propping my head against the heart shaped bath pillow and my elbow on the edge. Mac sighed on the other end. I joined him and let out a one of my own.

  “Can you stalk?” I asked, fumbling my words. “I mean, talk.”

  “I can always spare a moment for the love of my life. What are you doing?”

  I giggled, and the warm shot of air from my lips moved the bubbles away from me. “You shouldn’t ask what I’m doing,” I said, lingering on each word a little too long. “You should ask what I’m wearing.” I giggled again, lowering myself deeper into the hot water.

  “Samantha? Have you been drinking?”

  “Good guess. Now ask the question. We can’t get all—you know—sexy on the phone if you don’t play along.”

  There was a lingering pause and I wondered if maybe I’d called at a bad time but he was placating me anyway. I h
eard the scuffling of feet and the jostling of his phone. “Hold on.”

  After a brief moment, he was back. “Sorry. Now, I’m in my office with the door shut.”

  “You should lock it,” I replied in a sultry tone. “And pull the blinds,” I added in a whisper.

  Mac cleared his throat. I knew I was revving his engine.

  “Now, ask the question.”

  “What are you wearing?” His voice was deeper and softer than before.

  I traced a line between my breasts and smiled. “Nothing.”

  He dropped his voice another octave. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in our tub—all wet and thinking of you,” I said shifting my hips to find a more comfortable position.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he moaned.

  “Wanna know where my hand is right now?” I asked, trailing my fingers up my thigh.

  I could hear him swallow before whispering, “Yes.”

  Licking my lips, I took a ragged breath, “Your favorite spot.”

  “When it comes to you, baby, I have lots of favorite spots.”

  I listened to his breathing. I wanted to tell him how turned on I was– how desperate I was. I knew the wine was doing some of the talking, but the rest was me—raw and full of emotion. Clutching the phone to my ear I let out a soft and uncontrolled moan.

  “God, Sam,” he groaned.

  I loved the way his sexy voice reverberated in my ear.

  “I wish I was with you,” I said, sliding in the tub. “Do you know what I would do to you right now?”

  “Baby, I’m all yours. Do with me what you wish.”

  I paused, and my breath hitched as I thought of his tight body on top of me, beckoning me to surrender all. I was great at visualizing it all in my head. Putting it into words now that I had him on the phone was a little harder.

  “Samantha?” he said. “Have you started something you don’t know how to finish?”

  I felt myself blush. The alcohol had made me brave in the wake of my desperate arousal. But now, I felt silly. “Maybe,” I whispered.

  “I want to trail hot, wet kisses down your beautiful body—tasting every inch of your warm skin under my lips. I think of nothing else—night and day—but of being inside you. It’s all I want for the rest of my days. I want you—it’s beyond my control. And when it’s over, I take a breath and I want you all over again. You are my sickness and my cure, my love.”

  “Oh God,” I sighed, pulling my legs together tightly. His words were taking me to the edge quickly. I didn’t know if it was the wine, the warm water, or my sexy husband whispering in my ear, but I was too far gone to stop now.

  I listened to his breathing and a vision of him naked and standing at attention over my bathtub filled my mind. Without thinking, I closed my eyes and described my fantasy. “I want to lick you and bite you softly, swirling my tongue all around you.”

  “Dear God,” he groaned. I could hear his pleasure and it spurred me on.

  “Are you touching yourself?” I asked in a whisper. I felt so naughty, like a kid gawking over naked photos at ten.

  “Mmm hmm,” he said. “I want you to slide your hand between your legs and think of me there.”

  I licked my lips, clutching the phone tighter against my face, wishing his mouth was on me.

  “I don’t know if I can—”

  “You may have started this,” he said slightly breathless. “But I’m damn sure going to finish it.”

  “Oh God,” I moaned, my voice ringing out against the marble bathroom.

  “That’s it, baby,” he growled. “How does it feel?”

  My breathing had reached a rapid pace and my mind went blank, my hands taking over with an agenda of their own.

  “Oh Mac,” I cried out.

  He groaned in pleasure and it sent a charge through my core.

  “Oh baby.” His words come out in a low rumble. I knew he was close.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered. “Fuck me hard.”

  “What?”

  “Stroke it hard. Fuck. Me.”

  He mumbled something I couldn’t understand as my body throbbed in waves of pleasure that seemed to go on forever.

  Taking a deep breath, I heard him groan in ecstasy and I smiled to myself.

  Breathing in unison, I waited to hear what he had to say about my outburst. It wasn’t like me to talk dirty. It wasn’t like me at all. But I wanted the moment to be so hot for him, he couldn’t stop himself.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he whispered. “Where did that come from?”

  I swallowed hard, my head now dizzy from the orgasm as much as the wine. “I don’t know.” My voice was raspy from the wild, ragged breathing. “I just wanted it to be—you know—real for you.”

  Mac chuckled soft and low and I couldn’t help but smile. “What?”

  “Samantha, you are the realest thing I’ve ever known. I love you so much.”

  “Are you sure no one heard you?”

  “I’m in my office with the door closed and locked. Don’t worry. No one can hear or see me. Our secret is safe.”

  “Was it good?” I asked, dragging out the word.

  “I needed that so badly. You have no idea.”

  “Surely I do, or I wouldn’t have called.” I shifted my weight in the tub and turned on the faucet to raise the temperature of the water again. “How’s it going? When do you think you’ll be home?”

  “Hopefully soon, baby.”

  That wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear and by the tone of his voice and the manner in which he delivered the news, he knew it. I wanted to whine, but I wouldn’t. The gala would go off just fine without my handsome man by my side. It wasn’t the end of the world.

  “Be safe?” I asked.

  “Always.”

  “I love you.”

  “Ahhh….” He sighed. “I love you so much, baby. I wish there was another word for it. Love seems inadequate.”

  I nodded and tried to hold back the wine-fueled tears that were welling in my eyes.

  “Who were you drinking with tonight?”

  “Boone.”

  “Boone. Why is Boone Henry drinking to excess with my wife?”

  “Are you jealous?” I asked with a giggle. “C’mon now. Really?”

  “Hell yes, I’m jealous. A man I don’t know plying my wife with wine until she’s…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think you’re drunk. But you’ve certainly got enough on board to talk dirty to me over the phone.”

  “The question is—did you like it? Maybe you should be thanking him.”

  He sighed and I had visions of him pulling his well-fitting suit pants back over his exquisite and muscular bum. “Of course I liked it. I loved it. But that’s beside the point. You don’t take a married man’s wife out to dinner and get her drunk.”

  “I’m a grown woman and we didn’t go anywhere. We ate on the far west end at the picnic table. He’s a good guy, Mac. He’s even teaching Dax how to whistle.”

  “The picnic table. Our picnic table? And what’s he doing hanging out with our son?”

  Suddenly, Mac’s jealousy was making me smile—really smile. I liked knowing that he didn’t want another man around me or the kids. It made me feel like we belonged to him—we were his, and he wanted everyone to know it. “I didn’t know it was exclusively our picnic table and I sent the kids home with Celia tonight because there were too many men in dark clothes walking around and packing heat. It was making me nervous.”

  “Okay,” he replied. “But what does that have to do with you having dinner with Clark Kent overlooking our spot?”

  “It was nothing, Mac. He’s a nice guy—a little awkward—but nice. He has trouble with the ladies and merely wanted to talk about it with a friend.”

  “Just make sure he keeps his friendly hands off my wife.”

  “All I can say is wrap your case and come home to me. That thing we just did over the phone? I can do it a hundred times better in person.”


  Mac groaned. “Mmmmmm.”

  “Call me tomorrow?”

  “I may call you again tonight,” he said. “I might need round two of this conversation. And I’m not speaking of your wined-up dinner with Boone either.”

  “Come home to me in one piece, Mac Callahan.”

  “I can’t promise a lot, baby, but I can promise you this. I’m not going to stop walking through that door. So be waiting for me.”

  18

  MAC

  I hung up the phone with Samantha and leaned back in my chair. “Jesus, what a day,” I said looking at the clock on the wall.

  A knock at the door startled me, and I stood, checking my zipper and pants. I might have just jacked off in the office, but there was no reason for everyone to know about it. “Yeah?”

  “It’s me. Micah.”

  Unlocking the door, I stepped away, allowing her to enter.

  “Why was your door locked?”

  “I was…having a private conversation.”

  Micah sat, dropping her head as she began to sob.

  I placed my hand on her back. “C’mon now. We’re doing everything we can to get her back safe and sound.”

  “It’s not happening fast enough, Mac. Why is it taking you so long? Can’t you just bust down the door and get her?”

  “What door, Micah? These guys are so far underground at this point all we want to do is get Frankie out alive. We can worry about them being prosecuted later. Okay?”

  Abruptly she stood, throwing her arms around my neck. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I just feel like maybe because of everything that happened the other night, you’re not as invested in finding her. That’s all.”

  I pulled her shaking body from mine. “What are you even saying?”

  “It’s just…when I told you I loved you and finally came clean about us having sex all those years ago. I mean, I did it to piss you off. Because you’re happy and I’m not. Now I just feel like it’s all come back around to bite me in the ass.”

  “Okay,” I said, closing the door. “First off, I am upset you didn’t tell me what went down between us years ago.”

  “Did you choose those words on purpose, Mac?”