* * * *
Lorelei hurried to get ready as she watched the clock. Griff was supposed to pick her up at seven—or was it eight?
No, it’s seven, I’m sure of that, she thought as she stumbled around her room, clipping on earrings and stepping into heels that had only a wide sequined strap covering each foot. When she was dressed, she stepped in front of the mirror, and tugged on the dress here and there, then stood up straight and looked at herself.
So far, so good, she thought as she turned, trying to see herself at every angle.
She hadn’t put on a pound in years, and because of the charm school her daddy had insisted she attend in preparation of being the First Lady, she had acquired a very graceful manner that she knew added to her beauty. The dress Griff had sent fit her perfectly. The neckline hugged the tops of her shoulders and was made of a small strip of delicate gold fur with shiny gold flecks in it. The plunging décolletage allowed her breasts to bloom up over the sumptuous fur. She knew Griff would love it. The dress was tapered at the waistline, hugging her intimately, and then curved around her hips, giving way to a delightful fringe that seemed to be the in thing now. Lorelei smiled at the way it bounced playfully when she walked or turned her hips. It reminded Lorelei of the pictures of flappers she’d seen from long ago. The dress glittered in the light and complimented her hair perfectly.
She heard a soft knock, glanced up at the door and then down at her watch.
Right on time. She lifted her eyes to take one last critical look at herself before she quickly turned and went to open it. When she saw Griff, her mouth flew open. He was standing there in nothing but a very brief robe. “Griff, you’re not dressed,” she said as she looked him over curiously.
He looked down at his watch. “But I’m not supposed to be here until eight.”
“Seven,” she said curtly, her eyes lowering to his most attractive legs.
“Oh... then I guess I must be ready,” he said with a sexy wink.
Ready for what? She was afraid to ask.
Her eyes climbed to the clinging blue robe that was so short it barely covered his—and she gulped. She had to admit that he did look handsome. The silky blue robe accentuated his eyes, and his swarthy complexion seemed darker still. He must have just gotten out of the shower, since his hair was still wet. She could feel herself becoming aroused but tried hard to push the feeling down. She looked back up at him and smiled weakly, trying to make her voice sound normal.
“Why, uh...” She struggled to keep her arousal from showing on her face. “Why don’t you, uh...” She searched desperately for her words. “Just... uh... go and...” She closed her eyes as some exotic aroma drifted beneath her nose. “Go and get, uh...” Her voice broke when she saw the muscles of his hairy chest peeking out from beneath the glossy band of silk that edged the robe.
“Dressed?” he said, finishing her labored sentence, then looked at her amused.
“Yes, that’s it. Dressed.”
He frowned down at her. “Why?”
“Why?” she repeated, looking up at him as if he were stupid. “W-Well,” she sputtered, and then looked down at his robe, her waving hand indicating his inappropriate attire. “You certainly don’t intend to go out like that, do you?”
“I don’t see why not,” he said. “I mean, since we’re not going anywhere.” An electric blue gaze that almost melted her accompanied his last few words.
“We’re not?” She squeaked out the words as if she had suddenly lost her voice.
Remember, she told herself as she looked into his eyes, he’s a letch. He’s the king of the letches. He’s a Don Juan, a Casanova, a rake, a rogue! Her thoughts screamed. With nothing on!
“So, here I am...” he began, his smile sparkling.
“Yes, you are... all of you,” she said, as her gaze traveled over him again in spite of herself.
“All ready to begin our evening.” He looked at her as if she had forgotten her manners. “May I come in?”
She looked up at him, still in a trance. “Yes... no... I...” When he moved toward her, she couldn’t seem to resist. She felt herself turning to jelly while something kept whirling around in her mind—some warning—she couldn’t remember what.
Letch! Rake! Rogue! Casanova!
He moved slowly—creeping as if afraid he would step on a land mine. When he had cleared the threshold, he sent a furtive wave—a signal—through the opening of the door, then closed it behind him. “You look lovely,” he said, his voice lifting to cover the muffled click. Standing before her now, he drew her to him as his other hand crept around her waist and he lowered his mouth to nibble at her neck.
“Griff, if we’re not going anywhere, why am I dressed up like a circus pony, and you—” Not waiting for his answer, Lorelei found strength from somewhere and pulled herself out of his arms.
She turned quickly to get away, but he managed to catch her. With her back to him, his arms surrounded her and he leaned his head down and whispered in her ear. “The reason is very simple, if you really want to know.”
“I do, but I’m afraid to ask,” she murmured as she continued to struggle.
“Because,” he began, his mouth moving sensuously against her ear, “I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided to make love to you.”
His tongue darted into her ear, and her eyes closed, his next words searing her groin with a hellish fire.
“All night long.”
“Griff, please,” she said, unconvincingly. “Are we going to go through that again?”
“No, we’re not, Lorelei.” His breath warmed her ear. “In fact, it ends right here... tonight.”
“It does?” she whispered, feeling herself turning from an intelligent woman to a puppet, a slave, a willing partner in his acts of debauchery. Coming to her senses, she tried to pull away again, but he held her tight.
“My god, I can’t stand it anymore, Lorelei. I want to eat you up. Can’t you see that?”
She turned on him and pushed him away. “Only because I’m the one woman you’ve never had.”
“No, that has nothing to do with it. I want you tonight, tomorrow night, and forever, sweetheart.”
“You want me tonight, tomorrow night, and for seven more years, sweetheart. I’m the only thing standing between you and complete celibacy.”
“Hell, Lorelei,” Griff snapped, “I could get a woman in a minute if I wanted one.”
“Oh, no you can’t. Not while you’re in the White House.”
He strode over to the phone, picked it up, and punched in a couple of numbers. When the other end picked up, he spoke into it, his eyes never leaving hers. “I want a woman.”
Lorelei raced over to the phone, jerked it out of his hand, and listened.
“Blonde, brunette, or redhead, Mr. President?” the tight-lipped, whispering voice of the agent asked.
Her eyes filled with tears as she lowered the phone.
Griff took the phone out of her hand and whispered into the mouthpiece, “Never mind.” After replacing the receiver in its cradle, he continued. “I’ve learned a lot since I’ve been here, and not all of it has to do with my job.”
“But,” she said as she whirled around, her tears flowing freely. “They... they’re supposed to protect you from things like that.”
“What can I say? Someone lied to you. I guess they thought what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you.”
“Daddy,” she spat vehemently, hating the little white-haired man at that moment.
“There’s a room that no one knows about,” he began as he paced. “Surrounded by iron and steel as it is, it could easily be used as a bunker, but it was built as an old atom bomb shelter. It’s on the west side, with concrete stairs leading down into it. Since no one is supposed to come in without a clearance, the women are brought there and escorted into a room where they meet their contacts. There’s only one other entrance into the room, and that opens to a passageway that connects with the basement. The women aren’t allow
ed in any other part of the building, and while they’re there, the door is guarded by an agent, or the Gatekeeper, as he’s called. When it’s over, they’re escorted out.”
“But who are these women?”
Griff shrugged. “Depending on your appetite, or what you’re in the mood for. It could be anyone from a hooker to the girl next door. There’s a... well, you might call it an underground talent agency. They have scouts that scour the city. These guys latch on to anybody that looks good. Anyone with a body or a face that’s willing to go to bed with the president, a congressman, or a senator. The girls can be found anywhere, even walking down the street. They’re dressed up and looked over at social or political events and pointed out to interested parties as talent. Since it’s an underground agency, the girl is given a name. Something like Raven if she has dark hair, Lolita if she’s young, or Heidi if she’s fair. In case you don’t know, this city is lousy with women who want to do it with the president. I could call right now and get a virgin or a pro... a wholesome look, or a made-up hooker. Thin, fat, short, or tall. My god, I could get a dewy-fresh teenager if I wanted, or even a man. There’s—”
“Stop it!” Lorelei screamed as she fell down in a chair, buried her face in her hands and began sobbing. “My god, what’s wrong with this city?”
“Washington’s not the only place that has hookers, Lorelei. Everywhere you go, they come out of the woodwork like bugs. Call girls, hookers, playmates, even a masseuse. They may be called by a different name, but it’s the same thing. Sex for sale.”
“How did you find out about it?”
“I was approached by one of the Secret Service men... and educated.”
“Which one?”
Griff hesitated. “Dash.”
“That bastard!”
Griff knelt down at her feet and spoke gently. “The simple fact of the matter is men are animals. They can’t do without it, Lorelei. It’s a need that just has to be satisfied. That’s why I went a little crazy, I guess. Women are different. I mean, look at you. You held out on principle alone, at least until Dash came into the picture. Now you know why he made his move on you.”
“He knew that you and I weren’t...”
Griff nodded. “And he didn’t waste any time capitalizing on it.” Griff shrugged as he stood up. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe that’s the way it works. The Secret Service does the First Lady. The president...”He looked down at her, and his voice softened. “He gets his in the basement.”
“But it’s all so hard to believe.” She wiped at her tears.
“Why is it so hard to believe? If a man can go into any city, stay at any hotel and get a girl, why not the White House?”
“God, men are such bastards.” She looked up at him, her tears glittering in the dim light of the bedroom. “Does Daddy know?”
“He knows, but between us, it’s kind of... I don’t know, something we don’t talk about.”
“Then all this talk about celibacy for seven years is nothing but a bunch of malarkey?”
“Honey, in a case like this, what’s not said is spoken just as loud as what is, if you get my meaning. He knows, and he probably knows that I know, but he’s not quite sure. Being his son-in-law, well, I can understand why he’s a little close-mouthed. Besides, between men it takes only a look, a gesture... not words said out loud.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, but that’s the way it is.”
He knelt down at her feet again and took her hands in his. “It’s over, Lorelei. I don’t want any of those women. Nobody looks good to me but you, don’t you know that?”
“Oh, yeah?” she snarled, trying to keep the pain out of her voice. “How about Madame Jacqueme? She looked pretty damned good to you, I’ll bet. That little affair has probably been going on right under my nose for years.”
“Madame Jacqueme?” He laughed derisively. “Me and Madame Jacqueme? My god, Lorelei, don’t be ridiculous.”
She pushed his hands off her, jumped up and turned on him like an angry tigress. “I saw her coming out of your office after being in there all morning. You can’t spend a whole morning with a woman without something happening.”
“We were talking about you. I told her to send you the dress.” He shifted his eyes down, and he smiled. “And by the way, you look fantastic.”
“Did that take all morning?”
“Lorelei, you’re trying to fabricate something here that simply doesn’t exist. After I made arrangements for the dress, I was bothered about our relationship, and she advised me.” He shrugged. “That’s all.”
Lorelei recalled the feminine script on the card and knew it must have been written by Madame Jacqueme. “The card.” Her eyes crept up to meet his. “I know Madame Jacqueme wrote it, but the words... did you...”
“Yes, and I meant every word.”
She wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t let him make a fool out of her again. “I’ll bet.”
“I love you, Lorelei, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Why can’t you believe that?”
“I’ve believed you too many times, Griff Nyle, and ended up hurt, embarrassed, and cheapened.”
“I promise,” he whispered as he made a move toward her, “I’ll never hurt you again.” He managed to grab her arm and crush her to him, but she instinctively began fighting. “Lorelei, stop, for god’s sake. All I want to do is love you.”
When she broke loose, she ran toward the door and found it locked. She stopped abruptly, looked down at the doorknob, and then slid her eyes back at him in disbelief. “You didn’t. You locked us in here?”
“Well... not me. It was Jack... or Jake.”
Fury twisted her face as she turned and walked slowly toward him. “You will pay for this, Griff Nyle. When I catch you, I’m going to destroy you. You’ll be the highest singing soprano in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.”
A painful look crossed Griff’s face. “Lorelei,” he said, lifting his arm as if to keep her away. “Don’t do it, honey.” Hiding behind one chair after the other, he moved around the room while she stalked him. He jumped up on the bed and bounced over to the other side, and then, when she had him cornered, he lifted up a straight chair as if he were fighting a wildcat. “If you destroy me, we might never have children.”
“Children? With you? Don’t make me gag.”
He peeked out from behind the chair. “I want lots of children, Lorelei... and a dog. A dumpy station wagon we’ll use for the carpool, and a cute little house with a breakfast nook that you’ll see me in every morning. I love you, Lorelei, that’s why I’ll never give you a divorce. No more lies, honey, and no more women, just plenty of love.”
Tears fell down her cheeks as she saw the picture he painted with his words. “Why the hell don’t you just stab me with a knife?”
“My god, woman. What does it take to convince you?”
“They’re just empty promises, Griff. Just like the ones you made in your campaign speech. Empty promises that’ll be forgotten the minute the sun comes up.”
Lorelei lunged at him.
Griff barely escaped, threw the chair down, and ran around the room. Suddenly he jerked his head around with a look of surprise. “My god, look at that.”
Lorelei turned to look, and Griff tackled her, pushing her back onto the bed. When they fell on it, their weight hit the mattress with such a thud that the frame of the bed gave way, and they ended up on the floor. They both began laughing, but suddenly the laughter stopped, and their gazes locked. Griff gasped.
Lorelei could feel his cock pressing against her stomach. She could feel it twitch and begin to grow as if anticipating a penetration. She knew what had to happen, but she couldn’t let it, and began fighting.
“My god,” Griff shouted as he pinned her hands up over her head. “You’re one stubborn little bitch.”
“Get off me, you bastard,” she shouted, bucking beneath him.
Griff leaned his head down and whispered into her ear,
“It’s gonna happen, Lorelei, so open up those beautiful legs and let me inside.”
“I’ll die first!” she shouted.
“All right, die, goddamn it, but before you do, you’re going to have the greatest night of your life.”
Lorelei stopped. Griff lifted his head and looked down at her suspiciously. He slowly let go of her wrists.
She quickly lowered her arms and pushed him backward. She was almost out from under him when he reached up, grabbed her dress, and ripped it.
Lorelei stopped, looked down at her dress, and lifted the shredded material to cover herself.
Griff clenched his teeth angrily. “You don’t have to do that. I’m your fucking husband.”
“No, you’re not. You’re a stranger.” She made a move to get up, but he quickly shifted his body and blocked her way.
As he looked at her, his somber, serious eyes told her he was through playing. He slowly began untying his robe, pulled it back, and allowed it to fall on the floor. “You’re mine, Lorelei.” His eyes became dark and threatening as he moved toward her. “And I intend to take what’s mine.”
“I don’t belong to you or any man.” She lunged past his muscled body, but he caught her in his arms. She could feel his hot breath on her face.
The Sweet Thief Page 13