Black Light: Exposed (Black Light Series Book 2)

by Jennifer Bene

  “Who says I want to outrun you?” Two more steps and he was prowling onto the first landing, his expression hungry.

  “We do not have time for this game, beautiful.”

  “Then I guess I should go get dressed.” She was facing him, slowly walking backwards up the stairs, but he wasn’t stopping.

  “Good idea, my belt is upstairs anyway.” With that comment, she turned and took off at full speed. She could hear his footsteps chasing her, moving faster than hers up the stairs. Heart pounding, laughing as she slid on the hardwoods in her effort to turn right towards the master suite he used, she knew he was going to catch up – but she didn’t care if they were both a little late.

  He was an addiction, and she wanted another fix.

  “So, who is she?” Alan asked as soon as Thomas walked in.

  “Nope.”

  “Oh, come on, give me a name.” He got up and followed as Thomas entered his office, tossing his laptop bag onto the couch, and he couldn’t help chuckling at the slight whine in the other man’s voice.

  “Not happening, Alan.”

  “I won’t contact her or anything, I just want to see a picture. I’ll find her on LinkedIn, or Facebook, or something – but I promise I won’t reach out.” Alan was standing just inside the doorway, watching as he pulled out the papers he’d taken home to review.

  “Let me see… no.” Thomas grinned when Alan let out a groan and leaned against the doorframe.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. You haven’t used that house in months. When you asked me to have it made ready, I figured your parents, or your brother, were coming to visit! Then you send me a text at two o’clock in the morning asking me to grab clothes from Sandra’s shop and bring them there?” He threw his hands up, exasperated. “Who is this girl?”

  “Any updates to the schedule today?” Trying to change the topic of conversation did not work, and the deadpan look Alan gave him was priceless.

  “I knew I should have just shown up at the restaurant the last time I made a reservation.”

  “That would not be a smart choice.”

  “Scary voice doesn’t work on me, remember?” Alan sighed. “Why are you hiding her? Do I know her? Is she famous?”

  The sudden excitement in his assistant’s voice made him roll his eyes. “No, she’s not famous, but she is wonderful, and if you upset her by stalking us there’s going to be a problem. Understand?”

  For a moment it seemed like Alan might refuse to drop it, but then he relented. “Fine, its not like I won’t meet her eventually if it’s that serious. As far as today, Claire Ibson from New York Humanitarian Aid needed to move her meeting from 1:15 to 10:30 this morning, and so I swapped your brief review on the parks into Trisha’s schedule. You wanted to meet Claire in person, right?”

  “Yes, just make sure Trisha gives me a summary on the parks brief.” The world was already coming back in on all sides, and Thomas wondered for a moment how he’d ever handled the non-stop working without moments like that morning. Maddie’s peals of laughter were still clear in his mind from when he’d caught her and dragged her with him to get the belt. Her sweet whines as he’d peppered her skin with quick strokes, and then that look she’d given him as she’d wiggled free of his grip. Bright blush across her cheeks, her breasts rising and falling with her rapid breaths, and when she’d tried to run again he’d caught her and tossed her onto the bed. The sex had been quick, hard, but it had been the perfect release before a day like today.

  Everyone was trying to get everything done so they could leave for the weekend.

  “Thomas!” Alan raised his voice a bit, and then laughed as he shook his head. “I have got to meet this girl. You’ve never looked like that.”

  “Maybe.” Thomas smiled, because he’d never felt like this either. She was all he thought about in his brief moments between meetings. Even in meetings he caught himself remembering her smile, or the way she would suck her lower lip between her teeth just before she said something particularly naughty.

  “Alright, Congressman Hathaway. You’ve got maybe ten minutes before your first meeting arrives out here.” With a wave, Alan grinned and walked out, pulling the door closed.

  It was almost seven at night, and Thomas was fighting a yawn at his desk. Even with every light on in his cramped office, he was still fading, but what did he expect when he’d snagged a handful of hours of sleep?

  The day had been a never-ending sprint, and his last meeting hadn’t left his office until after six, which just left the hundred or so emails in his inbox to go through. There wasn’t a moment spent with Maddie that he regretted, but it was becoming very clear what he’d been filling his time with before he’d met her: work.

  Being single, and relatively young, in D.C. meant that he was taking on more than he really had time for, but he was still new, still proving himself worthy of his father’s legacy. Even though he’d been working around most of the other people on the Hill since he was twenty-two, and working at his father’s office back in New York since he could walk, he still had to make a name for himself. To be Thomas Hathaway instead of being referred to as Michael Hathaway’s son. It was because of that history that the work hadn’t really bothered him – it was his normal.

  “And now you’ve got too many commitments,” he grumbled at himself, filing his emails according to the various bills, and initiatives, and committee members that he had offered to help. When his mom, and sometimes even his father, commented on his relative solitude he’d never really thought twice about it. Working on Capitol Hill had been his dream since he was a kid – marriage? A family? Those were things he’d always put into the ‘later’ pile, something he’d eventually get around to. But as he’d sat in one of his fellow representative’s office today and stared at all of the happy photos of the man and his wife and their kids, it had been the first time he’d actually seen that as something in his future.

  Something that he might actually want instead of something that would eventually just become a necessity, which was absolutely, positively insane.

  Thomas rubbed a hand over his face, refusing to connect Maddie with his sudden interest in a personal future outside of Congress, and eventually the Senate. Just because she wasn’t a one night stand didn’t mean wedding bells were in his future. Hell, he couldn’t even get her to meet Alan, or let him buy her some clothes without a discussion.

  As if Maddie could sense him thinking about her, his phone buzzed with a text from her: Still in a meeting?

  He smiled and leaned back in his chair to reply: Not anymore, just catching up on work. Crazy day.

  The little dots in the text message told him she was typing, and he waited, unable to look away. Eventually a message came through: Tell Alan thanks for the clothes. Followed by a breathtaking picture of her bent over in front of a mirror, that hot pink thong framing her ass like the piece of art it was. A few still lingering bruises and marks showed, and his cock twitched, because those were his marks.

  He groaned and started laughing as he wrote her back: I will most definitely not be sharing that with him.

  The reply was quick: Why not?

  Because you’re mine. That’s what he wanted to answer, he was even poised to start typing, but he pulled himself back. Instead, he wrote: Go out with me Sunday night.

  Time stretched after he sent it, not even the trilling dots to tell him she was planning to reply. Muttering under his breath, he took a drink of water and turned back to his laptop, leaving his phone beside him. He’d skimmed a half a dozen emails, sorting them as he needed to, before he felt the buzz through the desk. When he picked up the phone his heart did a hazardous little somersault in his chest before pounding hard enough to draw his attention. She’d only sent three words, ‘I’m all yours’, but they had power. Strong enough to make him sit back in his seat, smiling like a damn fool at his empty office.

  Chapter Eleven

  Monday

  Reaching over, Maddie pressed the silence but
ton on the side of her phone as she let yet another of Antoine’s calls roll to voicemail. Her stomach was turning, and her face felt hot, and she couldn’t tell if she was actually getting sick, or if she was just such a miserable human being that her body was revolting against her.

  The buzz a minute later signaling that he’d left her another message only made her feel worse.

  When she closed her eyes she could still feel that golden warmth that always filled her when she was around Thomas. Their play the night before had been incredibly fun, sleeping in his oversized, plush bed had been wonderful, and waking up to toast and coffee had been perfect – even though he’d had to leave extra early to head to New York for something with his family.

  “What are you doing, Maddie?” she whispered, burying her face in her hands for a moment. The sound of her breath against her palms usually helped calm her down, it had been an old trick before tests in high school and college, but it wasn’t doing a thing to ease the twisting nausea that seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

  “It’s five o’clock, come on, Ginger.” Jamar was beside her desk, his dark skin a sharp contrast to the crisp, white dress shirt.

  “I’ll leave in a bit.”

  “No, you’re going to come with me now, and we’re going to that place with the fancy, glassed in patio, and we’re going to drink and watch the snow and you’re going to talk.” He snapped his fingers. “Come on, up and at’em.”

  “Jamar.” Maddie groaned and dropped her hands to her desk, looking up at him. “Do I look like I want to go drink?”

  “You look like someone just made you watch Old Yeller on repeat, and I don’t know what’s going on, but I have two sisters and a wife and I’ve become an expert at listening.” He walked around her chair to pick up her coat, holding it out for her. When she didn’t stand up, he stared her down. “Do not make me dress you like I do my nephews.”

  “I’m not good company right now.”

  “I can tell, but we’re going to go and drink until you get whatever is going on off your chest. I cannot deal with this place without the Ginger to my Gilligan, alright?” Jamar shook her coat, and angled his head towards the exit.

  “Fine.” Pushing her chair back, she ripped her coat from his hands and pulled it on, piling on the scarf, hat, and gloves that would help her handle the falling snow outside.

  The walk was a slushy mess, but it was why she’d worn her boots, and once they were inside the heated patio with vodka in her hand she had to admit that the alcohol wasn’t a bad idea. Jamar sat in silence for a few minutes, nursing his drink as he people watched, but eventually he gave up on waiting for her to start the conversation.

  “Alright, talk to me about it. Is it about the guy?” He tilted his head down towards the table to catch her gaze, and then he sat up, nodding. “That’s a yes. Did he break up with you?”

  Maddie sighed and looked up at him, and he watched her for a moment.

  “Nope, that is not the ‘I’ve been dumped’ face. Trust me, I know that face. So, what is it, Ginger? He not making enough time for you or something?”

  “Shouldn’t you be home with Nina?” she asked, a little snarkier than she meant to.

  “Absolutely, but you’re my friend and I don’t like watching you mope around the office like some zombie.” He nudged her cape cod towards her, and then waved at a waiter for another round. “Drink up.”

  That she could do, and she finished it in a single go.

  “Did you break up with him?”

  “No,” she said, and the pain in her voice was something tangible. That’s what she should have done before any of this started. Before she saw how good he was, how kind, how wonderful. She should have left it at a kinky encounter, crossed off something on her life goals list, and moved the fuck on – but instead she’d used him again, and again, and again.

  “Did he hurt you?” Jamar asked, an intense edge to his low voice that she’d never heard in him before, but the question made her laugh. Tears burned the edges of her eyes as she thought about all of their enticing times inside Black Light – but that was not a conversation she’d be having with Jamar. “Ha, ha, Maddie. I don’t find this funny. Something has you off, and if this guy has hurt you I want to know about it.”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. She most definitely didn’t feel fine, but there was no way in hell she wanted to talk about Thomas Hathaway with him.

  “Is he married?”

  She scoffed. “No.”

  “Is he terrible in bed?”

  Maddie rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to smile at his question. “Definitely no.”

  “Thank fuck, the alcohol is here. Can you go ahead and just bring us two more of those for her?” Jamar smiled at the waitress that had brought them, and Maddie gawked at him.

  “Trying to get me drunk?”

  “I’m trying to get you to talk, because you obviously need to, and if I need to pour you into an Uber and help you up the stairs to your apartment to get the normal Maddie back, I’ll do it.”

  “Nina would not like that.”

  Jamar sighed, shaking his head. “Nina likes you, Maddie. You guys have met multiple times. She just wishes you had more than one friend.”

  “I have other friends,” Maddie retorted, defensively crossing an arm over her stomach as she scooped up the next drink.

  “Who?” he asked, and she stared at him.

  It was true, at one point she’d had some people she used to hang out with, meet for drinks like this, but other than Antoine there weren’t many people she saw in D.C. anymore. “Okay, so I haven’t made a ton of friends here, but it’s hard.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you?”

  “No,” she waved a hand at him as she worked her way through another cape cod. The steady warmth of the alcohol was bleeding into her veins, and she realized that she’d been avoiding people, avoiding friends, so that she’d have more time to look for a story. For her big break. “You know, I used to go to these happy hour mixer things for people in journalism in the District.”

  “Why’d you stop?”

  She shrugged. “I made some good contacts, but they all made it pretty clear that breaking into a job here was hard. So many of them just kept telling me to go to other cities, other markets, to get a job somewhere else and then come back later. After I had a résumé, something to get my foot in the door at one of the big papers here.”

  “So, why didn’t you do that? It makes sense.” His expression was neutral when she looked at him again. No judgment, just waiting to hear her answer.

  “I don’t know.” Maddie took another long drink, trying to anesthetize herself against the uncomfortable questions.

  “Come on, Ginger. Talk to me about it.” When she just stared down at the table, tracing a groove in the wood with her thumbnail, Jamar finished his first drink and reached for his second. “Alright, then I’ll talk first. You know that Nina is a lawyer, right?”

  Maddie nodded. “You’ve mentioned it before.”

  “Well, before we moved here we lived out in LA together, met at UCLA and I knew she was the one the first week we met. I was a Junior, she was a Sophomore, and I saw her and it was just… boom.” He tapped the table in front of him. “I was done. Gorgeous, smart, funny – could kick my ass at poker – I was in love before I even knew it. So, after I graduated we moved in together. I got a journalism degree, just like you, but the papers in LA were the same way. They all wanted experience, a résumé like you said, and so instead of working at a newspaper I worked one or two random jobs at a time building a life for us. Bought her a ring doing that, married her during her first year at law school. Then she graduated, got a great job at a firm doing corporate contract law, and I started to get involved with some of the papers. A little freelancing, nothing major, but the LA Times was using some of my stuff. Then, they started talking about a job.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Nina got a call from one of the firms out here. Lambe
rt, Urbanski, and Reed. Big time clients, a lot of money, and I knew she wanted it. I could see how excited she was, but she was holding back for me.”

  “And you moved here,” Maddie finished for him.

  “Yep.” He raised his glass and took a long drink. “Took the job at Daily Saver D.C. and here I am.”

  “Aren’t you angry about that?” She shook her head, shocked that Jamar had never shared that story, even with all their discussions about their journalism degrees. “I mean you worked so hard to get to that point, and then just threw it all away.”

  “I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt. It was hard for a while, especially since she works seventy-hour weeks, but I always wanted a family. So does Nina, and because of my job we’re okay to do that. If I was some hotshot reporter, traveling all over, we’d never see each other and having a kid would never have happened.” A small smile lit up his face all over as he stared down at his drink.

  “Wait – are you guys?”

  Jamar grinned wide, and her mouth dropped open in shock, but then he was suddenly more serious. “We’re not even ten weeks yet, I’m not supposed to talk about it. Bad luck and all that.”

  “Holy shit, congratulations!” Maddie almost shouted it, and a few other tables looked over to see what was going on, but he just laughed and waved a hand at her to calm down.

  “Don’t you dare mention anything, she’d kill me.” He shrugged. “But, yeah. We’ll have a little boy or a little girl in time for Christmas next year, and in the grand scheme of things working some exciting, high-profile gig just doesn’t compare.”

  “I’m just so happy for you guys.” It was more than the alcohol giving her warm fuzzies when she looked up at him. He already looked like the proud papa, swiping at his phone with a glowing smile before he turned it around.

  The grainy image didn’t mean much to her, but there was a blob in it. Jamar pointed to the blob. “That was the first ultrasound. Strong heartbeat, but Nina is a mess. Trying to figure out how she’ll handle maternity leave without ruining her career, etcetera. But I keep telling her that I’ll be there, that I can take time off too, that I can pick the kid up from daycare. Feed them, change them, all that stuff.”