“In this business no one would blame me for giving it up,” she continued his analogy. “The duck hunting, that is. But where I come from, you dance with the one who brung you, buddy, and Huey was my dance teacher. As long as he’s leading the band, I’ll be happy to duck hunt.”
“Yeah, but one day Samantha’s going to be sitting in the conductor’s chair. What then?”
“Then we’ll be singing a different tune, won’t we?”
*
An eerie mist rose from the bayou as the guides put the small boats in the water. A large group of people in camouflage stood around holding shotguns and trying to stay warm while eager media personnel moved around getting pictures and sound bites for the Saturday night six o’clock news.
Chili walked up with a beautifully tooled weapon that looked almost too fancy to fire. She held it casually and unloaded as she made her rounds, introducing Kathleen and her husband to the group of mayors, senators, representatives, councilmen, and other elected officials. Kathleen’s campaign assistant hovered, her hand on Chili’s arm. When the cameras were trained elsewhere, more than one bet was made along the way as to who would bring back the most ducks. Chili’s record hung in the balance.
“Chili, you ready to go?” Jean Pierre, Huey’s groundskeeper, asked.
Jean Pierre was always her ride out to her blind, the blind he’d built to her specs when she joined the firm. The night before, he stocked away the supplies she requested, probably laughing the whole time at the thought of what Huey would do if he ever found out how Chili spent her time out there. Chili was the only person every year who hunted alone, never minding the silence and isolation of the area.
“Let’s get going before one of these guys fills my ass with buckshot.”
They both zipped up their camouflage jackets when he pulled the starter on the small quiet outboard and pushed away from the dock. It was still dark, but Jean Pierre had grown up in the marshes they were headed into and could have gotten there blindfolded if necessary. Spending time with him, Chili had come to appreciate the beauty of the wetlands and had joined the growing consortium of concerned citizens to fight to save them.
“Pick you up at ten, so stay put.” The pirogue glided into the bank and Jean Pierre killed the engine.
“Stay put, he says. Where in the hell do you think I’m going to wander off to? You afraid I’ll go for a swim in the pond? The only way that’s going to happen is if a Starbucks magically surfaces out of the water.” The heel of Chili’s Timberland boot disappeared into the mud when she stepped out onto the small island where the simplistic structure stood. She pushed off the boat, trying to keep her boots clean, and warned, “I’ll give you a heads up, though. Ride clear of Councilman Smith’s blind if you don’t want an eye shot out. It’s not six yet, but he’s already sauced.”
*
Chili pushed aside the makeshift flap that formed the door to the blind and ducked inside to get out of the cold. She was sure this was the only one on the property with a butane heater, crude wooden floor, cot, CD player, and a refrigerator stocked with champagne and orange juice. On top of that sat a tray of fruit.
The place was warm since Jean Pierre had come by earlier and turned up the heat, so she left the muddy boots at the entrance, rested the gun in the corner, and hung up her jacket. With socked feet, she headed for the cot and put on the headphones. Vivaldi’s Four Seasons lulled her into closing her eyes and crossing her feet at the ankles. She was as relaxed as she ever got and was still in the same position when her visitor arrived.
Chili opened her eyes when she heard the footsteps getting closer. The intruder hadn’t bothered to remove her shoes. “If I get mud on my socks I’m going to be pissed.” She removed the headphones and laced her fingers behind her head, wanting to admire the shapely derrière when the woman bent over to unlace her footwear.
“It’ll make us even, then.” A boot landed close to Chili’s with a thud.
“Even on what?”
“If Kathleen’s campaign manager had gotten any closer to you this morning, on the pretense of getting a look at your gun, I was going to have to do something about it. You not doing anything about her flirting pissed me off, so we’re even.” The other boot was thrown with the same precision.
Chili chuckled at the straight posture and balled fists. Charm alone wasn’t going to defrost the mood. “I wasn’t flirting—”
“The hell you weren’t,” was shot back before Chili could finish.
Chili stood up, the headphones dropping forgotten to the floor, and moved behind her. “Flirting is buying a woman flowers and serenading her from the street even though you can’t sing worth a damn.” That reminder caused the fists to relax and the rigid body to lean into her. “Flirting is wanting to find ways to get the girl of my dreams to kiss me every time I have her within reach. Flirting is also allowing said woman into my inter sanctum to enjoy the morning.”
“Do many women fall for this bullshit?”
“One bouquet of flowers got me a date for dinner.” Chili grasped the zipper on her visitor’s coat and pulled. “The serenade outside her window got me an invitation up to her place for a drink.” Chili unfastened a few buttons on the flannel shirt so she could slip her hand onto a smooth, warm stomach. A little scratch elicited laughter and an arm snaked back around her neck.
“She sounds easy.”
“Easy?” Chili snorted. “She’s my boss’s daughter and it took me months to get her to notice me, so don’t blame me for resorting to some rather corny dating maneuvers.”
“Ah, but you did look cute with the mariachi band playing behind you. Until you started singing, anyway.” Samantha pulled Chili’s hand out of her shirt and turned to face her. She looked around the small space as if wondering how many other women Chili had brought here. “This isn’t just about stolen moments with the boss’s daughter, is it?”
“Let me show you what this is about so there won’t be any doubts.” With ease, Chili picked Samantha up and carried her to the cot. Outside the sound of gunfire started as the first fingers of dawn painted the cloudy sky. “I usually spend this time listening to classical music to drown out the barrage of gunfire and squealing water fowl, so stop your wondering.” She smoothed the frown line that had appeared the minute Samantha started taking in the room. “Today, though, I thought I’d spend it showing you how much I care about you, and that has nothing to do with your last name.”
Kneeling, Chili finished with the buttons and opened the shirt to reveal a camouflage bra. “I see you dressed appropriately in case you have to sneak up on a duck in your underwear.”
“I saw it in that stupid catalog you gave me and I thought you’d like it.”
Chili kissed the swell of one breast where it peeked enticingly over a demi cup. “I love it, sweetheart.” The button of the pants came next and Samantha helped by lifting her rear so Chili could take them off. The matching bottoms with little flying ducks embroidered on the waistband made Chili smile. “This is as close to any ducks as I want to get today.”
Chili kissed her, and Samantha felt the rush of passion that had been building since they’d first seen each other that morning. The mouth that took possession of hers, like its owner, had a way of stripping away her inhibitions and awakening a need she hadn’t known she possessed. It had been this way since she’d first let Chili through her front door, and the reason she had tried to resist her for so long. Given a chance, she was sure this woman could make anyone a glutton for this feast of carnal desires.
“I want you to do something for me,” Samantha requested when they broke apart.
“What do you want?” Chili put a knee up on the cot and Samantha hooked her heels under her butt, pulling her in. Fingers ran through her hair, pulling just to the point of pain, stopping her from claiming another kiss. She felt Samantha’s lips move against her own as she whispered one simple word.
“Control.”
Simple, but control was something Chili never
gave to anyone no matter how she felt about them. It was one of the reasons she was so successful in business and had survived in her personal life so long with her heart intact. “What do I get in return?”
Samantha just placed one finger on Chili’s forehead and pushed her away until she was sitting on Samantha’s fleece-covered foot, then pushed her back a little more by moving the same foot to Chili’s chest. The game had begun, and Samantha was so far ahead there was no catching up.
“Take it off,” Samantha ordered, her voice husky.
Not wanting to give in too easily, Chili took her time with Samantha’s sock, smiling at how erratic Samantha’s breathing was becoming. If she bided her time, she’d have Samantha begging before she knew it. Except she made the mistake of looking down as the last of the sock made it past Samantha’s toes. The first time she’d seen the sight was in a late-night work session in her office when Samantha had slipped off her pumps. The next morning Chili had found herself at the florist buying roses like a schoolgirl with a crush. Red toenail polish was her kryptonite, at least red polish on Samantha Pellegrin. To Chili it was the epitome of femininity, and if giving up control was what she had to do to get her hands on it, Samantha would get her wish.
“Whatever you want, it’s yours,” Chili said as she removed the other sock with more enthusiasm.
“Stand up.” Samantha leaned back with no intention of removing anything else just yet. “Take your shirt off.” She watched as long fingers flew to the buttons and opened the first two in rapid succession. “Slowly,” she added, not wanting to cut her show short.
Chili’s nostrils flared and her hands stilled. From the look in her eyes, Samantha could tell there was an internal war waging. There was only one way to tip the outcome in her favor. She sat up again and reached behind herself to the clasp of the bra. The cups slid down a bit when the back came undone, but Samantha held it in place. Chili’s nostrils flared again, but now it was from frustration of a different kind. Samantha had never thought of herself as beautiful and desirable until the first time she saw this same raw hunger in Chili’s face. The sight had awoken the woman Samantha wanted always to be, the only woman in Chili’s bed.
As slowly as she wanted Chili to go, Samantha reached for one of the straps and dragged it off her shoulder. Every movement was carefully studied by Chili’s blue eyes, and she smiled at the way Chili’s fingers twitched almost as if she was fighting the need to touch her. The next strap came down just as slowly and, naked from the waist up, Samantha leaned back and ran a hand from her stomach to the underside of her right breast. Samantha pinched the already hard rosy nipple, then released a hiss of pleasure as she repeated the move on the left nipple.
Chili’s head fell slightly in defeat.
“I believe I asked you to slowly take off your shirt,” Samantha said, skating her tongue along her top lip.
Chili went back to unbuttoning her shirt, and it was agonizing to watch and keep her hands to herself. Chili finally finished, leaving the heavy cotton garment hanging open. Underneath she wore a tight sleeveless T-shirt and with a flick of her wrist Samantha indicated she wanted it all off. When the clothes hit the floor, Samantha licked her lips again. Chili’s need for her was obvious, since her nipples looked hard enough to chip ice.
“Tell me, baby, are you wet?” Samantha asked.
Chili closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an obvious effort to center herself. “Are you?”
“Do you want to stop?”
Chili’s eyes flew open at the question. Stopping now was most definitely the last thing she wanted, and she relinquished the last of the fight in her. Whatever Samantha wanted, she was going to give it to her. “No, I don’t.”
“Then answer my question.”
“I’m very wet,” the admission came out as a whisper, “and it’s because of you.”
“Take your pants off and let me see.” Samantha wasn’t finished playing yet. “And don’t forget to go slow.”
Following orders, Chili unbuttoned the hunting pants and let them drop to her ankles. It left her in a pair of tight white briefs, and for once she saw Samantha’s breathing catch. She wasn’t the only one fighting for control. The underwear wasn’t coming down without help, so Chili bent over to pull them off along with the pants and socks. When she straightened out, she faced Samantha naked, waiting for her next set of directions.
“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about since the last time we were together?” Samantha sat up again and set her feet on the floor. Her lover shook her head, visibly bristling with energy, reminding her of a thoroughbred in the starting gate. Given permission, Chili would explode with a burst of power.
“I’ve thought about how your mouth feels on me.” Samantha parted her legs and, with a crook of her fingers, called Chili over. She ran her fingers lightly along Chili’s sex, feeling her confidence grow at what she found. Chili was indeed wet and more than ready. “I’ve been dreaming about your tongue right here…” Samantha leaned back on one hand and slipped the other into her underwear, mingling the evidence of their desires together. When her fingers reappeared, they were glistening. “About how I can taste myself on your lips when you kiss me after, and how it makes me want to do it all over again when I do.”
Rocking on her heels, Chili swallowed hard. “Sam, please.”
“Hold me,” Samantha said softly. She sighed when Chili leaned over to engulf her in her arms, the act so sweet, despite how turned on Chili was, that she almost told Chili how she felt. But fear of Chili bolting kept her quiet when Chili reached to pull off the last barrier between them. “On your knees, Alexander.”
This time there was no argument and Chili groaned when Samantha painted her lips with her wet fingers. When she was done, their lips came together again and Samantha smiled fleetingly when again Chili ceded control, letting her lead this dance. When the need for air became paramount, Samantha pulled on Chili’s hair again, guiding her head lower.
Like she was presenting Chili with a gift, she lay back to give Chili what they both wanted. “Make my dreams a reality.”
Weaving their fingers together, Chili lowered her head and ran her tongue through the wet heat. Before either of them was ready, Samantha held Chili’s head in place and gave her last order. “Now, baby, now.”
Chili’s fingers sliding easily into her sex took away the last of her resolve and she exploded against Chili’s mouth and fingers, yelling loud enough to scare the few ducks that had landed outside. The feeling of possession was so complete that Samantha was sure she’d never give this part of herself to anyone else, even if Chili was too afraid to give in to her feelings.
“Wait,” she panted when Chili went to start again.
Chili rested her head on Samantha’s abdomen, and the position seemed to give her the courage to say what she had never even alluded to in words up to this moment.
“Do you know what I think about?”
The quiver of uncertainty was so evident in Chili’s voice that Samantha ran comforting fingers through her hair. “Tell me, it’s okay.”
“I think about our stolen moments like this, and it isn’t enough for me.”
“What are you saying?” A tentacle of fear reached into Samantha’s chest and she thought the pain of it would constrict her lungs until she couldn’t breathe. She looked down into Chili’s blue eyes.
“I want all of you, Sam. I love you and I want all of you for as long as you’ll have me.”
“You love me?”
“So much that I’m going to talk to Huey today about my intentions for his little girl.”
The tease had its desired effect and Samantha laughed. “You’re going to talk to him while he’s holding a loaded shotgun? It must be true love.” She pulled on Chili’s hand, needing her to hold her. Chili moved up and pulled her close and she tucked her head into Chili’s shoulder. “You know, the first day I stepped into the jungle, I began my own campaign strategy.”
“Do tell?”
“My father thinks I’m immune to your charm.”
Chili laughed and slapped Samantha gently on the butt. “You are. I’ve never had to work so hard at getting someone’s attention. For the longest time, I thought it would take begging for you to have a cup of coffee with me.”
“I just wanted to make sure when I fell in love with you, you would be good and snagged, baby. This was one campaign with a lifetime term limit, so I wanted to win in a landslide.” Samantha cradled Chili’s cheek and kissed her. “I love you and I’ll have you as long as my heart beats.”
“Can we do something about that wanting me now?” Chili’s low voice cracked when Samantha’s fingers closed around one of her nipples.
“Only if you promise to leave this part out of your talk with my father.”
Six months later…
“The new sign on the building made the Post,” Paul dropped a copy of the Washington Post’s business section on the recently added partner’s desk in Chili’s office, “and you received an invitation from the new governor to the mansion for dinner as a way of thanking you for all the help.”
“A sign is news now?” Chili glanced down at the article as she rolled the last of Kathleen’s campaign plans away and replaced the boards with fresh paper.
“Tell the governor we accept,” Samantha answered from the doorway. She threaded her arms around Chili’s waist, admiring the bouquet of roses on her side of the desk—the desk that came with the position she’d inherited with her father’s retirement. “And of course the new sign made the capital’s paper. Alexander, Pellegrin, and Morris is the hottest thing going in politics these days if you want to get elected.”
“I guess this means you won’t be giving up duck hunting anytime soon, huh, Chili?” Paul asked.
Radclyffe & Stacia Seaman - Romantic Interludes 2 - Secrets Page 10