Agent Murphy’s name appeared on his phone, and it was the perfect excuse to bail on the boring dinner party. Asher had done his piece. He’d said hello to the right people, discussed all the issues and impending legislation that dinner guests had asked about, and even thrown out a few insider-only campaign details that the dinner guests would love and he needed leaked. Like the new poll numbers that had him holding a solid lead over his opponent.
He answered right before the call would hit voice mail. “Hey, Murphy. Tell me you have good news.”
“I have good news.”
“Really?”
“Well, it’s news. A lead. After combing through your old constituent mail, we found several letters from M. H. Bowie. Recognize the name?”
“No. But we get thousands of letters, e-mails, phone calls. I don’t handle them myself.”
“This guy showed up at least once in your office last year, but we don’t think you ever saw him. Met with your deputy chief of staff after harassing a couple interns.”
“M.H. Bowie is Maxwell?”
“Bowie’s first name is Maxwell. He’s the fifth Maxwell Bowie in his family. All military, all the way back to the revolutionary war. We’re talking steep family history.”
“How does that relate to the notes?”
“New York seized his home under the claim of eminent domain. A highway is under construction, and Maxwell’s family home—they call it the Bowie Estate—is where an exit ramp is planned.”
Asher nodded. “I know about the so-called Bowie Estate. They’ve applied and have been denied for historic and national landmark designations. The Bowies have zip in terms of documentation.”
“Exactly. And Maxwell the Fifth was dishonorably charged from the Army after a few incidents. His psych evaluations fit with the profile of someone trying to redeem himself in the eyes of his family.”
“So Maxwell Bowie is our guy? Got a picture of the dick?”
“Not one hundred percent positive, but he’s the best we’ve got. We’ll get his picture and file e-mailed to you. Now for the bad news. He’s also off the radar. Don’t know where the bastard is. Here’s the deal, Congressman—”
“Asher.”
“Yes, sir. If it is him, he’s not your typical politically driven stalker. He’s had some mid-level specialty training. Enough to make him dangerous.”
“Just terrific.” Asher blew out harshly as he hailed a cab. “I’ve hired a protective detail for Molly and Jenny.”
“Well, actually, sir—”
“Asher.” A yellow taxi pulled over, and he hopped in and gave the intersection for the happy hour. He looked at his watch. Five minutes, tops.
“Yes, sir. But you are my concern.”
“I’ll be fine. As a matter of fact, I’d welcome a sit-down with Maxwell the Fifth. I have a few things to explain to him.”
“I can appreciate that, sir—”
“Seriously, Murphy. My name is Asher. Call me Asher.”
Murphy laughed. “Not as easy as it sounds.”
Asher could almost hear the sir and shook his head. “Find Maxwell. We’ll stay in contact. After all this is over, we’ll go grab a couple beers and shoot some hoops. See if you’re sirring me then.” He hung up the phone before Murphy could offer another yes, sir.
The taxi pulled over, and he shoved the cash through the slot in the safety glass. Less than five minutes, not bad. The bar was on the corner, and he walked in.
Jenny stood out in the crowd. Her back was turned with her dark hair piled up, but he could pick that woman out anywhere. Her laughter carried from the bar across the loud room, and she tossed her head back. Unaware of him, and Asher was content to watch.
Graceful neck. Sexy, strong shoulders. She reached back to toy with loose strands, and the move punched him in the stomach. Those arms needed to wrap around him, and his fingers would be in her hair, again and soon.
He walked toward her, ignoring the occasional nod of recognition from folks downing their after-work cocktails. Ricky sat at a nearby table, watching Jenny, studying everyone in the room, and making small talk.
Two men flanked Jenny. Both could back off, but Asher wouldn’t concern himself with them. For all he cared, there was only one other person in the room. That gorgeous girl who’d teased him over the years and had become a focal point the second he’d grasped what she meant to him. Maybe he had one thing to thank Maxwell for, and it was that realization.
One last step, then Asher pressed against her back, her ass, and nuzzled his cheek behind her ear.
“Guess you couldn’t go walking around in your costume, huh?” He let his lips tickle the edge of her ear and inhaled her light perfume. She smelled delicious. “What are the chances you brought that thing home?”
Jenny stayed caged to the bar and tilted her head. “One of the perks of my new gig is a furnished, temporary apartment. Rumor has it the closest isn’t empty.”
He closed his arms tighter, and warmth penetrated his suit jacket and shirt sleeves. “Yesterday, I had you pinned against a wall. Tonight, against a bar. Hoping you like that as much as I do.”
Her breaths stilted and hitched. He was close enough to feel the irregular cadence. Close enough that he could savor it, enjoying the prickles that swept across the nape of his neck and shot down his spine.
Slowly, Jenny spun in his arms. She focused on his tie, then her hands found his coat lapel. The delicate touch glanced off the fabric, sliding down its edge until her hands fell to her sides. She raised her chin, and the heat in her eyes nearly made him kiss her right in the middle of the bar, in front of the world. That would make tabloid gossip rags before they even left. She didn’t need that. Nobody did.
“Your dinner went fast.”
“I couldn’t stay away. Let’s get out of here.”
She looked away at a few people he recognized from the audition room earlier. “I can’t just walk out.”
“You’re right.” It was selfish to steal her from her celebration. Didn’t keep him from hovering close enough to kiss her lips. “I’ll—”
One of the men next to her stepped closer. “Jenny, this guy bothering you?”
“No. I’m not.” Ash’s chest rumbled when he spoke.
Another guy elbowed the man who’d interrupted. “Oh, man. That’s—”
A split second later, the flash of a camera phone caught him broadside.
Shit. He ducked his head. Ricky walked over, and Asher heard a brief exchange that resulted in the picture being deleted.
Her eyes were wide. “Maybe we should go.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Ash grabbed her hand. “Tonight’s your night to celebrate. Ignore that; next round is on me.”
He tucked her close and flagged down the bartender.
Another flash of a camera.
She spun toward the camera. “Do you mind?”
“Ignore it,” he whispered. “Just you and your buddies here tonight. Forget everyone else.”
“That was one of my so-called buddies.” Her brow furrowed, and she mumbled, “Bitch.”
“Don’t react.” He knew how hard it was to ignore. “They’ll get bored, and the pics won’t sell if there’s nothing interesting.”
She burrowed into his arm. “All right.”
Another snap of a camera. Damn it.
One of the men raised his glass. “To Jenny’s new part and the free publicity.” Several people clinked glasses and offered happy-hour cheers. A couple more clicks of cell phone cameras sounded. Asher could hear Ricky in the background working his way through the crowd, trying to let her have a semblance of privacy. Maybe Asher should have thought this through before he’d shown up.
She smirked at the man who offered the cheers then turned to Asher. “It’s not like that. You’re not free publicity.”
“I know.” Too bad this had New York’s trashy newspaper coverage written all over it. “I messed your night up.”
“Screw them. I want to bail.” S
he ducked her head. “Let’s go.”
His arm went around her shoulder as they turned to leave. Asher nodded to Ricky, who he knew would do his best to clean up the pictures. Jenny leaned against him as they pushed through the mess of barstools and bodies. Her sweet scent teased him. Asher dropped his chin to the top of her head. “I wasn’t trying to cause a scene, sweetheart.”
“I know.” She nodded as they broke through the front door. He kept her close, walking them down the street, going who knew where. Just away. Her heels clacked over the sidewalk, catching on the cracks and toeing over the grates, until they rounded a long city block and stopped.
He couldn’t stay away and had to taste her kiss. She backed against a building’s brick façade. His shirt touched hers. The swell of her breasts pressed to his chest. He cupped her jaw, sliding his fingers into her thick hair.
“Congratulations, by the way.” He kissed her, and her welcoming response seared into his soul.
“I earned it.” Jenny knotted her hands into his starched button-down, sighing against his mouth.
The confidence in her words turned him on. Hours earlier, she’d been unsure if she would get the part, then she did, and she had realized that talent was on her side. Just yesterday, she’d wavered into their kiss, uncertain of him. But today, she teased him in a glittered costume and with her wicked tongue.
Asher nibbled her lip, tugging until he felt her smile. She slipped her tongue over his. The velvety slash caressed straight to his straining erection.
Her arms snaked up his chest, locked around his neck. Flexing her hips into his, Jenny rubbed into his hold, and he was consumed and possessed. Everything about her made him hot. Made him lose control. His senses were inflamed, and her touch, her kiss branded her to him.
She belonged to him. In his arms. In his bed. She’s all mine.
Asher pulled her into another kiss. Tongues clashed, lips molded. Together, they were ravenous. He dropped his hands and cupped her ass, picking her up, letting her long legs wrap around him. The effect was catastrophic. The V of her legs shifting against his shaft made him insane.
The honk of a horn and an angry driver yelling out a car window broke his thoughts. His eyes were forced open. They were a few hundred feet from a main street. Even this side street would have the occasional taxi passing through. Fondling her against the wall was the wrong move. They were too public. Too many people could walk by, snap a picture, and sell it to a gossip rag. It’d embarrass her. It’d be a headache for him. But her legs squeezed, her eyes asked for his attention, and he couldn’t stop.
Asher jerked his hips into her. A strangled purr fell from her lips, and he slanted his mouth over hers again.
Another honk of nearby traffic.
She staggered a breath. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips had plumped from kissing until he could barely breathe.
“Don’t forget, they gave me an apartment.” She blinked, and the rapid-fire flutter made her seem too innocent. “It’s not far from here. Haven’t been there yet. There’s a key waiting.”
The color yellow caught in his periphery. Without putting her down, he spun and whistled. “Taxi.”
***
They were at Jenny’s temporary home-away-from-home ten bucks later. Not the greatest building, but it was the perfect location: five blocks from the theatre and half a block from the practice studio.
“The bellman has my key,” she said.
Asher was the picture of cool and collected, completely unfazed as he led her into the building and took the key from the bellman. The envelope was labeled #2306.
Compared to him, she was a mess. Her heart punched her breastbone. Her feminine parts were in overdrive—breasts aching for his touch, dampness teasing between her legs, and a wild curiosity piqued. If kissing Asher was better than she could fantasize about, what would he be like in bed?
In the taxi, he had stroked her arm and made small talk with the cabbie. She had focused on breathing. Inhale, exhale. Don’t pass out.
Jenny leaned against the elevator wall as it slowly progressed to the twenty-third floor. Asher’s hand covered hers. She watched him in the mirrored walls. A wicked smile danced on his face as he watched her back.
His eyes were intense. His sinewy jawline flexed. He personified dapper and daring, as if he’d walked off a GQ photo shoot. Perfect hair. Perfect suit. Perfect… just perfect.
A sparkle radiated from him. Every woman wanted to be on his arm. Every man wanted to be his buddy. It made him a good politician. That, and he was a good politician.
He was the real deal, through and through. As manly and in charge as they came, and he’d set his sights on her.
The elevator doors opened, and in one step, he had her under his arm again and walking toward her apartment. Toward a bed and every dream she’d hoped for since they’d first been introduced.
“Here we go.” He jangled the key and slid her in front of him. She pressed against the cheap wood, and he slipped the key into the lock, unlocking it, but didn’t turn the handle. “What’s that look?”
I can do this. I can do anything. Just calm down.
Tingles exploded down her neck, shooting toward her navel. Asher drew back, narrowing his eyes.
“Jenny?”
“This is going to change everything.” There. She’d said it. He could agree and walk away. Everything would go back to normal, where she pined after him, he glanced her way but kept moving.
“Hell, it wasn’t the same after we kissed.” Asher turned the handle, held her against his chest, and walked into her new apartment. “I haven’t been the same because of you. I’ve loved it.”
Good, because I love you.
Their eyes were locked, and she couldn’t turn away. Asher led her from a matchbox-sized living room to the tiny but separate bedroom. She’d been warned that the place was semi-furnished and decorated to get “their star” into the spirit of the show. Boas draped over the door. Candles lined a dresser, and erotic books lay on the nightstand. The apartment had a Tassels and Tangoes quality. Sexy. Seductive. Sensual.
With all the command of his importance, Asher removed his suit jacket. The tie came off with a fling and landed over a chair that held yet another feather boa. He mesmerized her, emanating confidence and dominance. The vibes made her stronger, more ready to take what she wanted and give herself to him.
He worked his cuff links. Each deliberate motion was sharp. Provocative. If he handled her the way he did his clothes, then the man was in charge and did everything just right. Her sex throbbed in anticipation.
“Someone’s taking your show very seriously.” He nodded to the boa and loosened his collar.
“It’s an acting method. Immerse yourself into the role. I play a burlesque dancer.”
Excitement flickered across his expression. “Come here.”
The order made her tremble. It was exhilarating, a sampling of what would come. She stepped to him and began to undo his shirt buttons.
Asher toed off his socks and shoes. “What do I get to play?”
“What do you want to play, Mr. Congressman?”
“No, you don’t.” He chortled and tugged her shirt over her head. “Enough of that.”
She studied him, sliding his dress shirt off his shoulders. It fell to the ground. “It’s like you don’t want the title sometimes.”
“What I want is you.” He yanked off his cotton undershirt. “It’s never been about the title or the attention.”
Asher’s smooth, tan chest towered over her. He loomed large, protective. Hungry. An extraordinary thrill made her heady. A man who epitomized power and prowess wanted her.
Jenny laid her palms on his stomach then sashayed her fingertips over his rippled abdominal muscles and traversed to his sides. “Then what has it been about?”
“I don’t want to talk about work.”
Her fingers mapped the path of his belt. Undoing the buckle, sliding the clasp from his pants, the expensive material dropped to
his ankles and his thick shaft bulged behind boxer briefs.
She outlined his shaft with the slow slink of her fingers over the cotton. “Tell me anyway.”
“This is coercion.” His head rolled to the side. “My standard answer, I like helping the greater good.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” She cupped him and stroked. “But tell me the real answer.”
He inhaled as she glided over his length then caught her with the flash of his eyes. “I love the knowledge and control.”
Asher continued to stare. Gripping him tighter, she ran her tongue along her bottom lip, and his eyes tracked the premeditated lick. “I think I’d love the control too. I like it now.”
“Sweetheart, you’re going to be pinned to that bed and screwed until you scream if you’re not careful.”
She watched his face and bent to his pec, lapping below his collarbone. “Promise?”
He smelled like soap and the faint hint of cologne. He tasted as solid and crisp as a fall day, and never could she have guessed that her tongue would savor him.
She sat on the bed and brought him directly in front of her, again sliding her hands down his sides. “Don’t move, Asher.”
Leaning over, Jenny forced a hot breath through the fabric of his boxer briefs, over the crown of his cock. Asher sucked in a quick gasp. She kissed the edge of his skin, dipping her tongue below the waist of his drawers. “I want to taste you.”
He groaned. “Sweetheart.”
Her palms slid down to his hips, smoothing over his well-developed thighs and taking with them his boxer briefs. He stepped out of them and stood on display for her. Naked and sculpted. Virile and potent.
His erection was thick, massive, and reaching for her. “Ash…”
Her hands ran up the backs of his thighs, smoothing over the solid muscles of his rear. She nuzzled her cheek against his length, mouth watering. She could almost taste the salty, savory strength. As she squeezed him, he swayed. She could do anything she wanted, and he would let her.
“This is what it feels like,” she whispered.
“What?” his voice rasped.
“You’re one of the most powerful men in the world.” Two hands rocked him, up and down. “This is how you must feel.”
Chased - A Titan Novella (Titan (Novella)) Page 4