Jameson had become lost to the sensations that making love to Candace produced within her. She loved everything about Candace—the softness of her skin, the faint hint of her perfume that lingered between her breasts and behind her ear, her soft sighs gradually becoming more desperate, the look of fiery passion mingling with intense emotion that lit Candace’s irises when she looked at Jameson. When Jameson took the time to think about it, Candace had commanded her attention and her love from the moment they had met. Jameson had never considered herself a hopeless romantic. Although, Candace often accused her of that affliction. No, it wasn’t about romanticism; what existed between them was not a sentiment realized. The connection Jameson shared with Candace went far deeper than thought or sentiment. It defied reason. It just was. It always had been, and Jameson felt sure nothing in the world could ever change the love they shared.
Candace sensed an emotional tide brewing in Jameson. She reached out and caressed Jameson’s cheek. “Jameson, look at me.”
Jameson opened her eyes. Tears welled in them. She sucked in a ragged breath and closed them again.
Candace smiled, taking a moment to trace the outline of Jameson’s face with a fingertip. So, sensitive. “Jameson,” Candace called lovingly.
Jameson took a deep breath and opened her eyes again.
Candace looked at Jameson adoringly. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Then show me.”
Jameson’s heart thundered so wildly at Candace’s direction that Candace could feel it.
“Jameson,” Candace whispered. “It’s just me.”
Jameson had found herself needing to be close to Candace all afternoon. She wasn’t sure what was driving her need. Sometimes watching Candace do the simplest things overwhelmed Jameson’s senses. She’d spent the day admiring her wife in the distance. Jameson loved to watch Candace with her children. She loved the way Candace’s hand would lovingly play with Cooper’s curls when he fell asleep in her lap. She marveled at the way Marianne, Shell, and Jonah could transform into small children in their mother’s presence. During the afternoon, Jameson had looked over to find the day’s excitement challenging Shell’s ability to stay awake. Shell’s head had fallen on her mother’s shoulder in contentment. Candace had captured Jameson’s gaze from across the room. Jameson marveled at the way her heart ached from a simple exchanged glance. Simple things—those things might have seemed trivial to many people; for Jameson those moments meant everything.
Jameson often spoke the words, “I love you.” Tonight, she thought the emotion behind them might choke her with its potency. She looked in Candace’s eyes. “I love you so much it hurts,” she confessed.
Oh, Jameson if you only knew how much I understand. Candace smiled and gently reversed their positions. Jameson’s intention to seduce Candace had shifted without warning, and Candace instinctively understood what was called for. She removed Jameson’s T-shirt and tossed it aside, then removed hers. Jameson reached for her and Candace pressed her back on the bed with gentle force.
“I wanted to make love to you,” Jameson feebly protested.
“I want to make love with you,” Candace replied.
Jameson watched in rapt fascination as Candace continued to undress them both, pausing every so often to kiss Jameson’s flesh tenderly, never lingering long enough to solicit more than a slight shiver from Jameson’s body. Jameson’s eyes were riveted to Candace’s every move.
Candace threw the last bit of Jameson’s clothing on the floor. She looked down at Jameson’s flushed skin and felt a rush of excitement travel through her body. There was nothing Candace enjoyed more than making love with Jameson—nothing. That reality unsettled her at times. She’d always enjoyed sex. She’d realized the first time she and Jameson made love that making love dramatically differed from sex. Making love was infinitely more rewarding. In this place, everything disappeared except the two of them. The demands of careers, the needs of children, the opinions of strangers evaporated in this place. She tenderly brought her lips to Jameson’s. The kiss started slowly, an achingly powerful search for connection and acceptance. Candace pulled back slightly and sighed. How is it possible to love you more?
Jameson’s hands traveled up Candace’s stomach to her breasts. She let her palms gently graze over Candace’s nipples, enjoying the way they responded to her touch. Candace’s eyelids fluttered for a brief second. Jameson bit her bottom lip as the blue of Candace’s irises deepened with desire.
Candace’s hands reached out and explored Jameson’s breasts, playfully tugging at Jameson’s nipples until Jameson’s eyes closed in submission. She smiled. “Jameson,” she called to her wife. Jameson forced her eyes open. “Stay with me.”
Jameson loved it when Candace made love to her this way. It was erotic. Her hands took hold of Candace’s as Candace began to move against her sensually. The sight was mesmerizing. As entrancing as it was to watch Candace, Jameson had to fight to keep her eyes open. Candace commanded all her senses, all her emotions—desire squelched reason, love drowned reality. Jameson’s head spun pleasantly. She could feel heat building between them as Candace’s hips continued their slow dance against her.
Candace was enraptured by the sight of Jameson beneath her. Jameson’s body lifted, pleading for release, but her eyes told a different story. Jameson’s eyes implored Candace to lift her higher, to hold her steady until she had no choice but to allow her body to freefall into blissful surrender. Candace felt Jameson’s hands hold onto hers more tightly. She lowered her lips to Jameson’s with a tender kiss.
Jameson’s eyes finally closed. She could taste the sweetness of white wine that lingered on Candace’s lips. Her lips parted and invited Candace in to explore. Jameson sighed into the kiss. She loved kissing Candace. Often, Jameson mused that if she could spend the rest of her life simply kissing Candace, she would. Her tongue snaked out to taste Candace’s top lip. She felt the first quivers begin to travel through her core at the sound of Candace’s appreciative moan.
Candace sensed that Jameson was about to spiral out of control. She whispered in Jameson’s ear. “Let go, Jameson.”
Jameson’s hands gripped Candace’s back, holding her as a tether to the earthly plain. “Candace!”
Candace slowed her movements gradually. Her body tingled pleasantly everywhere. She brushed the sweaty bangs from Jameson’s eyes and smiled. “I love you.”
Jameson released a long, contented breath. She shifted their positions to lie beside Candace.
“What is it?” Candace asked.
“I wanted to love you.”
“Did I miss something?”
Jameson shook her head. “I wanted to make love to you.”
“Jameson.” Candace kissed Jameson on the forehead. “You just did.”
“No, I mean…”
“I know what you mean,” Candace replied.
“I need to.”
Candace smiled with understanding. Oh, Jameson.
Jameson’s lips traveled methodically from Candace’s lips to her shoulder, back across to her throat and slowly down until Jameson’s mouth claimed Candace’s nipple. She playfully tasted and tugged until Candace’s hips rose. Jameson followed the silent requests Candace’s body conveyed. She placed a delicate trail of kisses down Candace’s body until she reached Candace’s center. Jameson stole a glance at Candace before continuing. Candace’s eyes had closed, and her lips had parted in anticipation. Slow and soft—that is how Jameson intended to make love to Candace. She closed her eyes and let her lips fall onto Candace’s center.
Candace’s entire body was immediately lit on fire. The warmth of Jameson’s tongue as it bathed her in a series of tender caresses made her body hum with pleasure. She prayed that Jameson would prolong the torture. And, it was torture—the kind of torture that intense pleasure delivers. It was almost painful. Bliss was a strange thing. Candace could feel Jameson coursing through her veins. “So, perfect,” she murmured.
>
Jameson moaned, enjoying the way Candace’s body moved in time with hers. Her hands gripped Candace’s hips and pulled her closer. She was quickly losing her resolve to make love to Candace slowly.
“Jameson,” Candace barely managed to speak the name. “Please,” she begged.
Candace’s plea was Jameson’s undoing. She pulled Candace even closer and sucked softly, tasting and teasing until she heard Candace begin to repeat her name over and over.
Candace forced her eyes open. She looked down at Jameson making love to her and instantly felt her body submit to Jameson’s will. “Oh, God! Jameson!”
Jameson held Candace steady, guiding her through a violent crash of ecstasy and into a series of gentle waves that caressed them both. She felt Candace reach for her and moved to look in Candace’s eyes. Jameson kissed Candace sweetly. “Beautiful,” she said.
“You are,” Candace agreed.
Jameson chuckled. “Take the compliment,” she told Candace.
“Thank you.”
Jameson collapsed beside Candace and pulled Candace into her arms.
“Not that I am complaining—at all, but what brought that on?” Candace wondered.
“It’s been a while since I’ve felt you so relaxed,” Jameson admitted.
Candace sighed regretfully.
“No, no,” Jameson kissed Candace’s temple. “I’m just glad that you seemed to be able to let go a little today.”
“It was a good day.”
“Why do I think your mood is about more than Shell’s news?” Jameson inquired. One thing Jameson did know, Candace was dealing with a host of stressful situations both as governor and with her campaign. There was no doubt that Michelle’s news would have brightened Candace’s spirits. Despite the fact Candace and Michelle could go head to head at work, Jameson was aware that the two adored each other. And, no matter how much Candace might desire to win this election and regardless of how much she enjoyed the challenge of her job, nothing mattered more to Candace than playing the role of mom and nana. Still, Jameson had sensed a shift in Candace’s mood ever since she had spoken with Cassidy.
“I guess, I’m looking forward to getting away for a few days.”
“To see Cassidy?”
Candace nodded against Jameson. “I think there’s something she wants to talk to me about.”
“Other than the speech, you mean?” Jameson asked.
“I think so.”
“You don’t think anything is wrong…”
Candace chuckled. “If you mean with Cassidy and Alex—no. Whatever it is, it’s political in nature.”
“You’re not worried?”
“No. Not really.”
“Candace?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do I think I am in the dark?”
Candace turned in Jameson’s embrace. “What do you mean?”
“Just a few things Claire said,” Jameson said.
Candace considered her reply. Jameson had kept in touch with Claire Brackett after the serial killer case had closed. Candace knew that. She had no idea what Claire Brackett might have said to Jameson. She did know that both Alex and Claire had worked in the intelligence community for years. Candace knew enough to have inklings about what Alex and Claire might have been involved with. She also understood that there were secrets that even the president was unlikely to discover. She sighed. “I don’t know as much as you might think I do.”
Jameson pulled Candace a little closer. “They’ve both seen things,” she said.
“Yes, they have.” Candace heard Jameson sigh. “Jameson?”
“I just want you to be safe.”
Candace turned to Jameson and smiled. “Safety is an illusion. We both know that. I have people in my corner that I trust, Jameson—not just our family. If I didn’t, I would never have taken this on.”
“That’s why you’re looking forward to seeing Cassidy.”
“I’ve known Cassidy and Jane longer than I’ve known you. Few people have been through what they have in the public arena.”
“You mean Chris’s death and the assassination.”
Candace was referring to those events. She was also referring to much more. Cassidy’s ex-husband had been disgraced publicly before being killed in a car crash, at least, according to the public narrative. That hadn’t been long after President John Merrow’s assassination. John Merrow had been a close friend of Alex’s. It had been a difficult time in both Cassidy and Jane’s lives. Grieving in public was no easy feat, and compassion in the press often ran short.
“Yes, but also all the fallout from those events.” Cassidy had been married to Christopher O’Brien for years. Most of the mainstream press fell in love with her early on.
“But?”
“We all have our detractors, honey.”
Jameson closed her eyes. Candace shared a camaraderie with Cassidy Toles and Jane Merrow. In some ways, Jameson envied that. She always endeavored to support Candace, but Jameson would be the first to admit she preferred to stay out of the know when it came to politics. She chuckled.
“What’s funny?”
“Just thinking it will be nice to play some billiards.” Alex Toles was no fan of politics either. Jameson knew that.
Candace shook her head. “Better get your rest then. Last time we stayed there a night, I didn’t see you until breakfast.”
“I couldn’t let her win!”
Candace laughed. “Of course not.” Lunatics.
Chapter Fourteen
“How did Mom seem before they left?” Michelle asked Marianne.
“Actually, she seemed to be in a great mood.”
“She likes giving speeches.”
Marianne laughed. “I think it has more to do with getting away and seeing Cassidy and Jane.”
“Yeah.”
“Shell? You okay?”
“Huh? Yeah. I just haven’t talked to her much since Sunday.”
“Shell?”
Michelle smiled. “Were you ever nervous?”
“What do you mean?” Marianne asked. She sighed when Michelle’s meaning struck her. “About being pregnant?”
“No.”
“Lost me, Shell.”
“That you’d disappoint Mom. Why? Should I be nervous about being pregnant?”
Marianne laughed. “No.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, no you shouldn’t be nervous about being pregnant.”
Michelle nodded.
“Shell, why are you worried about disappointing Mom?”
“I don’t know. The doctor just warned me that I might have to pull back on travel when things get closer.”
“And, you think that will disappoint Mom?”
“I’m due at the end of June.”
“And?”
“And? And the convention is in July. Do you know how much will be on her plate in June?”
Marianne smiled at her younger sister genuinely.
“What?” Shell asked a bit defensively.
“Shell, Mom was thrilled to hear your news.”
“Do you think so?”
Marianne’s initial inclination was to set Michelle straight bluntly. She took a deep breath. Michelle was clearly worried. “Why would you doubt that?”
“I don’t. It’s just… Well, when Mel and I started talking we’d thought we would start trying this month. We figured it’d take time; you know?”
“Mom cares more about you than any campaign.”
“Yeah, but I committed to helping her.”
“And, you are planning on quitting now?”
“What? No! Of course, not!”
Marianne grinned. “You don’t have to be joined to her hip to help her.”
“I just don’t want her to think that it doesn’t matter to me.”
“She doesn’t think that. No one thinks that.” Marianne laughed. “We all care, but, Shell, I seriously don’t think anyone is more passionate about Mom’s campaign than you are. She knows tha
t.” Marianne studied her sister closely. “Want to tell me what this is really about?”
“What if I suck?”
“Come again?”
“At this.”
“This?”
“This! You know, this!” Michelle looked at her stomach. “Being someone’s mom!”
“You’ll be a terrific mom.”
“I don’t even know how to be pregnant correctly.”
Marianne struggled not to break out in laughter. “What are you talking about?”
“I threw up for three hours last night! This morning I’m fine. Does that make sense? Isn’t it called morning sickness?”
Ah, and so it comes together. “It doesn’t always work the way it sounds.”
“Huh?”
“The morning part,” Marianne explained.
“Oh.” Michelle groaned. “I thought my head was going to come off. That ever happen to you?”
“Only with Spencer. Which I hope means I won’t have to deal with that ever again.”
Michelle’s ears perked. “Marianne?”
“Hum?”
“Do you want more kids?”
“Not right now.”
“But do you?”
Marianne nodded. “One.”
Michelle smiled. “What’s going on with you and Scott?”
Marianne held up her hand. “Don’t go printing any extra birth announcements; you have double duty as it is.”
“Ha-ha. Come on, what’s going on?”
“Don’t get all excited. I just sort of think we are heading in that direction.”
“Seriously?”
Marianne nodded. “I’m still not ready.”
“I know. Would you be mad if I told you that I think it’s awesome, though? That you found Scott, I mean.”
“Me too.”
“You really love him.”
Marianne’s eyes grew misty. “I do. I still miss Rick.”
“Me too.”
“It’s totally different. But yes, I love him. And, to be honest, it scares the hell out of me.”
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