Sexual Politics

by Tara Mills

  He relieved her of the second bottle as she got out of the car. They were both silent in the elevator on the way up to his floor. It wasn’t until he turned the knob and threw open the door that she saw the spacious living room and realized this was his apartment.

  Wary now, she said, “I thought we were going to your studio.”

  “I have a small studio right here. I’m selective about who I bring to it.”

  Sensing he was waiting for her, she walked in first and he closed the door behind them, locking it once more. His apartment was stylish, upscale, and at the same time, comfortable. She could tell by the placement of the pillows on the sofa, the throw bunched up at the end, and the various remotes within easy reach he liked to sprawl on his furniture. Visualizing it, she smiled.

  His arm came up on her left side and he motioned her through the open doorway ahead. It led to a small but well-designed European style kitchen. The clean lines of the sleek gray cabinets set off the simple nickel hardware. The countertop was a darker gray with deep red speckles to tie in with the bold ruby red tile backsplash that ran the length of the kitchen. It was striking.

  While she quietly admired her surroundings, Sean took two stemmed glasses out of an upper cabinet. Picking up her bottle first, he watched her speculatively as he carefully peeled the foil then removed the wire. He held a dishtowel over the cork and gave the bottle three turns.

  She jumped and smiled nervously when she heard the pop.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he told her in a soothing tone as he poured. Setting the bottle down, he handed her a glass and claimed the other. “Let’s create something beautiful.”

  With that, he tapped his glass to hers.

  She took a sip and nodded. “Okay.”

  “Come on. You can use my room to undress—unless you’d rather have the bathroom. The mirror is bigger and the lighting is better in there.”

  “Bathroom will be fine.”

  He looked down at her hand clutching the front of her coat together and chuckled. “I’m not going to pounce, Justine.”

  That made her laugh and she let go of the lapels. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous.”

  “That’s why I opened the champagne.” He picked up the bottle and led her out of the kitchen and down a corridor.

  The open door on the right led into his bedroom. He’d pulled the comforter over the bed but he hadn’t smoothed it. Otherwise, the room looked neat.

  “Justine?”

  Startled, she realized she was staring at his bed while he was waiting in front of the bathroom door. He’d turned on the light in there for her.

  “Okay, yeah,” she said, shaking her preoccupation with beds and bedrooms off before she really embarrassed herself.

  “There’s a clean robe hanging on the back of the door. I’ll get you a hanger for your dress. You might as well give me your coat. I’ll put it in the closet.”

  “Thank you.” She set her glass on the vanity and wriggled out of her coat.

  Taking it from her, he draped it over his arm and gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s the big room at the end. Take your time.” His gaze fell on the bubbling glass on the counter. “Drink that. It’ll help you relax. I’ll be right back with a hanger.”

  Two minutes later, she was staring uneasily at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes bright. Her fair skin automatically sold her out when she drank spirits, but she had a suspicion her heightened color came from what she was about to do rather than the small amount of alcohol she’d consumed so far.

  Unfastening her belt, she unbuttoned her dress then slid it down her body and stepped free. The shower enclosure provided a convenient place to hook the hanger. Biting her lip, she removed her bra and gasped in alarm. Her normally light peach nipples were deep pink and drawn incredibly tight. Stiletto nipples. Ugh. She tried to push them back, warm them up, but it only made things worse. Giving up, she rolled her stockings down her legs one after the other and carefully draped them over the top of the shower next to her dress.

  She was down to her underwear. Needing a little liquid courage, she grabbed her glass and drained it, coughing and sputtering on the bubbles. That was stupid. She could do this! Then she realized with a wry little laugh Victoria was about to have one less Secret after tonight.

  Chapter 4

  Sean was moving lights around, setting things when she shuffled into the room at the end of the hall hugging his too-large-for-her robe around her body.

  He turned and gave her a smile. “I’m almost ready. Why don’t you pour yourself another glass?”

  “Okay.”

  Following where he pointed, she wandered over to the table and refilled her glass and added a topper to what he hadn’t finished. She was ahead of him.

  “I turned up the heat in here so you’d be more comfortable,” he said, moving some metallic umbrella thingy on a stand.

  “Thanks, but I don’t think I’m going to be comfortable no matter what.”

  “Try not to stress. You’ll be surprised.”

  She took a sip and watched him work. Too bad he’d changed out of his fancy clothes. Well, the buttoned-down shirt, sweater vest, and blazer were gone, but he was still wearing the same slacks. The gray almost matched his kitchen cabinets. Realizing it made her snicker softly to herself. She sobered when she reconsidered the plain v-neck t-shirt he was wearing. It hugged him in all the right places. Maybe she wasn’t so sorry to see his dress clothes gone. She had no idea he was hiding a body like that underneath. He was lean, but cut. Though not overly muscular, there was beautiful definition under the plain white cotton.

  Feeling suddenly warmer than she should have been, she flapped the overwrapped neckline of her robe and took another hasty swallow of bubbly.

  Sean walked over to her and plucked at the drooping shoulder hanging down her arm. “You look pretty cute in my robe.”

  “It’s a bit large.”

  Reaching around her, he picked up his glass and tapped it against hers again. “Then take it off.” His brows arched over his challenging eyes.

  “Easy for you to say. Not so easy for me to do.”

  “Drink up.”

  She emptied her glass once more then, setting it down, untied the belt at her waist. The change in his face when she dropped the robe was both gratifying and worrisome. Gratifying because her fragile ego had never needed this kind of compliment more. Worrisome because she was afraid of how quickly things could spiral out of hand between them if they weren’t careful. The attraction between them loomed large enough to take up this entire space.

  “You’re beautiful.” He set down his glass and picked up the camera sitting on the table. “May I?” Without waiting for permission, he reached behind her and removed the clip holding her hair up. “I want it down. Give your head a shake for me. Let your hair swing loose.”

  With her arms crossed modestly over her breasts, she shook her hair out for him.

  His smile deepened. “Better. Come on over.”

  He had her sit on the long swath of white fabric that curved gently from floor to ceiling. He knew what he wanted and reached out to fuss with her hair, move her arm, and tip her chin.

  “Relax your toes.” Crouched down to her height, he studied her through the camera, moving slowly, carefully in front of her then around her. “Look down to my right. Good. Now slowly open your eyes and look straight at me. Beautiful.”

  Laughing softly, she bit her lower lip. He liked it.

  “Oh yeah, do that again… Very nice. You’re a natural.”

  Allowing her to relax, he got up while she rolled her shoulders and neck. Sean came back with their glasses.

  “Not that you need this, but we have a bottle to finish.”

  Laughing, she took her glass from him, sipping it down. “Now what?”

  He sank to his haunches once more. With his free hand he smoothed her hair back on one side, studying her with a tender expression in his eyes. “I’d like to
do some portraits, but since you’re down here, let’s have you lie back.”

  “Lie back? Open?” Her panic came through loud and clear.

  “You’ll be covering yourself.”

  “I could put on my dress,” she offered.

  “I’d rather you didn’t.” He plucked the empty glass out of her hand.

  “I figured you’d say that,” she muttered.

  She heard him chuckle as he put their glasses aside and grabbed his camera again.

  Coming back, he gestured. “Spin around, head on my left, legs to my right.”

  Lowering herself suspiciously, Justine tried to preserve her modesty as best she could.

  He was grinning when he crouched next to her and gently rubbed between her eyebrows with his thumb. “Don’t scowl at me. You’re making a line. Now I’m just going to arrange your hair a little, okay? Lift your head for a second.”

  He was very meticulous as he worked. She could tell he wanted her reddish hair fanning out like rays around her face. That didn’t bother her nearly as much as when he asked her to lift her arm because she was mashing her bust. He helped readjust her breasts for maximum cleavage. To her relief, he said nothing about how she covered her pubic area.

  * * * *

  Sitting in front of his computer an hour and a half later, Sean said, “This one turned out really nice. Might even be my favorite. What do you think?”

  When he didn’t get the response he expected, he turned and saw Justine had nodded off in the other chair. Smiling, he shut down the computer and went to her, pausing to admire her up close and personal for a moment. He loved gazing at her, especially now. She looked so peaceful.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Justine?”

  She was out. Scooping her up, he carried her into his room and placed her on the bed. The overlarge robe gaped open as her head lolled on the pillow, exposing one breast.

  Give me strength. She might be completely limp, but he wasn’t. As expected, he’d been semi-hard all night, though the minor discomfort was worth it. As a subject, she was everything he hoped she’d be.

  Carefully closing the robe, he covered her with the sheet and blankets next. There was no denying how he felt about her when he bent to kiss her forehead, tenderly stroking her hair as he straightened up.

  Resigned to their difficult situation, he took his pajama bottoms to the bathroom and changed there, grabbing the throw off the couch on his way back. There was no way he was sleeping apart from her, though he wasn’t willing to tempt fate by sliding under the covers either. Stretching out on top of the comforter, he lay on his side, facing her, and pulled the throw over himself.

  She made a soft moan and snuggled her back against him, a sanitized spooning. It was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. Wiggling as close as all the covers allowed, he wrapped his arm around her and she covered it with her hand, letting out a contented sigh.

  “I love how you smell,” she mumbled then dropped back to sleep.

  Smiling, he kissed behind her ear and whispered, “Ditto.”

  They were forehead to forehead when Sean woke up. Even with his shades drawn he could tell it was daylight. He was loath to move, to leave her, but nature called.

  Once up, he knew he’d never get back to sleep, not without waking her. So rather than return to his room he went to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee. He was on his second cup when Justine walked in. Still wearing his robe and nothing else, she looked rumpled and adorable.

  She covered a yawn. “I smell coffee.”

  “I’ll get you a cup.” Hopping up from the table, he smiled when she sagged onto the other chair looking a little bewildered.

  “I spent the night?”

  “Yes.” Having filled a cup for her, he put the pot down and turned in time to see her worried cringe.

  “We didn’t…”

  He frowned. “No. You don’t remember?”

  “I was so tired at the end. Wine and champagne always put me out. It’s all fuzzy.”

  He set the cup in front of her and reclaimed his chair. “We both slept.”

  “Ah. Thank you for being a gentleman.”

  He chuckled as he raised his cup to his lips. “Don’t trust me to pull it off a second time.”

  She let out a tired laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry. Last night was a one-time deal. Special circumstances.” Taking her first sip of coffee, she released a deep moan of satisfaction. “Mmm, so good.”

  Shifting in his chair at what the sexy sound did to him right after she said the overnights were over, he was only half kidding when he said, “You sure know how to ruin a bright, sunny morning.”

  “Do I?” Her hazel green gaze settled on him and she smiled sadly. “Sorry. Let’s just say for now. Who knows, maybe we’ll revisit the issue someday. If you’re interested.”

  “I’m interested.”

  “You say that now.”

  Clearly she didn’t have a lot of confidence in a man’s constancy. Not that he blamed her. All he could do was prove he was nothing like her shitty, cheating husband.

  He covered her hand resting on the table with his own and stared deeply, seriously back at her. “I’m interested, Justine,” he repeated firmly. “I’d carry you back to that bedroom this instant if you let me. You have no idea how much I want to make love to you. I want to erase the memory of every other man you’ve been with before me. I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

  “I don’t want to leave either,” she whispered and turned her wrist under his so they could hold hands.

  They finished their coffee without letting go.

  * * * *

  The elevator ride down to the parking garage was depressing. They stared longingly at each other from either side of the conveyance.

  “Is this goodbye?” he asked sadly.

  Blinking rapidly, she nodded. “For now.”

  “Come here.” He held out his hand and she reached for it. When they clasped, he tugged her hard against him and clutched her head, his arm locked around her. Their kiss was filled with loneliness, desperation, and heartache. Yet he put all his love for her into it. He wanted her to understand even apart, he’d be there for her, waiting.

  She was crying when she drew back. Cupping his face, she nodded. “I know. Me too.”

  Hugging one last time, neither was prepared for the bedlam when the doors slid open and they were confronted by flashing cameras and people shouting questions at them.

  Springing away from her, Sean punched the Close Door button with the heel of his hand.

  “What the hell was that?” He was in shock.

  Justine looked stricken as she covered her mouth with both hands. “Someone must have seen us together last night. Everyone has a camera phone these days. All it takes is one picture loaded onto the internet and… Oh God!”

  Punching a random floor, he tugged her out of the elevator when the door opened and scrolled through the numbers on his phone.

  “I’ve got about twenty messages,” he said in amazement.

  Justine pulled her phone out of her coat pocket and turned it on. She gasped. “There’s over fifty on mine.”

  Dialing his friend, Sean looked at her and placed a finger over his lips. “Trent, I need your help.”

  “You seduced a prominent politician’s wife last night. You’re damn right you need help.”

  “Not now,” he said impatiently. “There are reporters and photographers camped out in my parking garage. I have to get her home. Can you pick us up? Come in through the alley.”

  “You’re lucky I don’t have anything better to do this morning. Give me thirty minutes.”

  Cutting the call, Sean gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We might as well go back upstairs to wait.”

  She nodded and they returned to his apartment. While she sat in one of the armchairs in his living room, he sat at his desk and checked the computer. That’s when he finally saw the candid pictures showing him helping Justine into his car last night, c
hampagne bottles in hand. It looked bad.

  Uploading those images to the internet right from a phone would have taken no time at all. It brought out the sharks in droves. There must have been people parked outside for hours waiting for them to reappear. They didn’t. At least not until this morning, and Justine was in his arms, her hair down, and wearing the same damn dress from the night before. Things just went from bad to a lot worse.

  As he watched, the stream of information updated and suddenly he saw the two of them caught like guilty lovers in the elevator.

  Fuck.

  The captions made him wince.

  Senator Gary Hubbard’s wife caught with playboy photographer Sean O’Donnell, famous for his nude portraits.

  Justine Hubbard, wife of Senator Gary Hubbard, busted playing sexual politics with Sean O’Donnell.

  While the senator is away, his wife will play.

  Sickened at how quickly this was spinning out of control, he closed down the screen. How were they supposed to deny an affair? They could tell the truth, but the pictures he took of Justine last night would only incriminate them further, and he never had any intention of sharing those beyond the two of them. He needed time to think.

  She still had one hand over her mouth while she scrolled through her messages. Then she turned to him with wide, haunted eyes. “I don’t want to talk to any of these people right now. Some never. I want to know how my private line was leaked.”

  “We’ll deal with this. I think it’s safe to say there’s a crowd outside your townhouse too. Is there somewhere else we can take you? Somewhere safe and private?”

  “My sister’s. I’ll call her.”

  “I’ll call Trent back and see where he is.”

  They hung up at the same time.

  Sean spoke first. “He’s two blocks away. We should go.”

  “Jeannie’s waiting for me.” Justine rose and picked up her purse.

  “Good.”

  He followed her to the door, but when he grabbed the knob, he didn’t open it. She turned to him, her frown of concern leaving that cute little mark between her brows. This time he didn’t want to erase it. It was growing on him.