Dirty Work

by Chelle Bliss

  “How dare you—”

  I take a step toward him. “No, how dare you? I saw the photos. Don’t even try to deny it.”

  “What photos? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  My heart is racing, the image of him giving that woman a tender look seared into my consciousness. “How old is she, Dad? She looks my age. All those lectures on putting family first and marrying your great love… You’re nothing but a fraud.”

  The anger slowly slides away from his expression, and he draws his brows together with concern. “Tell me what’s going on, Reagan.”

  “How many affairs have you had?”

  He doesn’t move a muscle.

  “How many, Dad?” I slowly repeat.

  “What is it you think you know?”

  “Don’t play games with me. Don’t pull your politician bullshit and answer a question with a question. Have a little integrity, Dad. You’re caught. Man up and own it.”

  His nod is almost imperceptible. “Just one.”

  “Just one? You have the nerve to call it just one?” I’m yelling now. “You betrayed Mom, and you think it was okay because it was just once?”

  “I don’t think it was okay.”

  “Does Mom know?”

  “No.”

  I shake my head in disgust. “She’s so good to you. So much more than you deserve, and you’re running around with a woman half her age?”

  “You’re mistaken.”

  “Like hell I am.”

  He rubs his temple, concern etched on his face. “What photos are you referring to? Who has them?”

  “The Titan campaign.”

  “Then how did you hear about it? Have they already been released to the press?” I see fear in his expression.

  “No. But I could give a shit about your damage control right now. You need to tell Mom.”

  “Reagan…it’s not as simple as you think.”

  I fold my arms over my chest. “You were busted with your twenty-something girlfriend. Seems pretty simple to me.”

  “Twenty-something?” He looks genuinely confused.

  “She looks younger than me, Dad.” My voice is laced with venom. “I can’t believe you’re cheating on Mom with a perky young blond. Is she your intern?”

  He looks at the floor. “No. I think…I mean…I know what’s happened. Those photos the Titan campaign has aren’t of me and…well, the other woman.”

  “Then who the hell is she?”

  “My daughter.”

  I put a hand on the kitchen counter to steady myself. “What?”

  He nods, his expression loaded with shame. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

  “Find out what? What’s going on here? Tell me exactly what’s going on.”

  “I started an affair with Stephanie Barnes twenty-two years ago. The woman I was apparently photographed with is our daughter, Kennedy. She’s twenty.”

  I feel unsteady. I wish Jude were here. I need to look into his dark eyes and feel the invisible blanket of reassurance he always wraps around me.

  “Twenty-two years? And…?” I clear away the lump in my throat. “I can’t…I mean, I don’t even know what to say. How could you?”

  “I’m sorry, Reagan.”

  I hold up a hand to quiet him. “Don’t. People who are sorry don’t carry on for more than two decades. You’d still be denying it if there wasn’t cold, hard proof. You’re nothing but a liar.”

  He nods, his expression sober. “Yes. I’ve dreaded the thought of my double life being discovered, but I have to say I feel almost relieved right now. I’ve wanted you and Abby to know Kennedy and Chris—”

  “Stop.” My voice wavers with emotion. “Just stop. You disgust me. You have a mistress and two other children?”

  “Yes. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just—”

  “No.” I cut him off, and the tears finally spill over. “You have to tell Mom.”

  “When is the Titan campaign releasing the photos?”

  “I have no idea, and I don’t even care. Either you tell her in the next twenty-four hours or I will.”

  “Reagan—”

  “Don’t ever use that stern tone with me again. Ever. You’re not the man I thought you were. All of this running myself to the ground, trying to get elected…it’s all about you. All to make you proud of me and carry on your work. But it was all just a lie.”

  He sighs deeply. “Listen, I know this is a shock. I’m sorry. But don’t do anything rash.”

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do ever again!”

  After a few seconds of silence, he tries again. “Just take some time away from the campaign.”

  “I had to, so I could come here. And there’s no way I’m going back and keeping up this charade.”

  “Reagan, you have to.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He shakes his head. “You don’t know what’s at stake.”

  “Nor will I know. I’m in the dark about everything, Dad. You’re the puppet master, pulling the strings so you can always have your way. You pressured me to run when I said I wasn’t ready, and here I am, in way over my head.”

  “You can still do this.”

  “Does it matter if I want to do it?”

  He furrows his brow. “Why wouldn’t you want to? What thirty-year-old in their right mind wouldn’t want the kind of power and influence that comes with being a United States Senator?”

  “It was never for me, Dad. It was always for you.” I swipe the tears away from my cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, Reagan. I truly am. I wish I could tell you to follow your heart, but…I need you to do this.”

  My heart races back into overdrive. “You need me to do this? What does that mean?”

  “Having a secret family is expensive,” he says with a heavy sigh. “For twenty years, I’ve had to find a way to support them without anyone knowing.”

  My stomach churns with a sick sensation as my father’s words sink in. This hole he’s dug for himself just gets deeper and darker.

  “You sold out,” I say softly. “You’re crooked.”

  “I accepted payments in exchange for votes I likely would have cast anyway. That’s not crooked.”

  “Not according to the Stan Preston School of Ethics, no. But then, neither is deceiving your wife for twenty-two years.”

  “Reagan—”

  “I have to get out of here.” I close my eyes, and more tears slip onto my cheeks.

  “Let’s just slow down and figure this out,” my father says in his most placating tone.

  “The only one with shit to figure out is you,” I fire back. “Twenty-four hours.”

  He shakes his head. I wait for him to meet my eyes before dropping a bomb of my own.

  “I’m seeing someone, Dad.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Jude Titan.”

  His grimace says it all—this news bothers him more than me finding out about his secret family did. I’ve been nothing more than a pawn in his game all along.

  “Dammit, Reagan.”

  “You should be thanking me. Now you know why those photos haven’t been leaked yet.”

  “If it gets out that you’re seeing him, you’re done. Ruined.”

  My laugh is bitter. “I’m ruined, all right. But it’s got nothing to do with Jude.” Picking up my purse and keys from the counter, I give him a final look. “Twenty-four hours.”

  “I won’t be given an ultimatum by you.”

  “She deserves to hear it from you. It’s the absolute least you can do now.”

  I walk out the door and dig my big, dark sunglasses out of my purse. I can hide my smeared eye makeup behind these glasses, but there’s no way I can conceal my emotions. My world was just turned upside down. The campaign couldn’t be further from my mind.

  I’m not going back to the bus. I’ll text Lexi that she can send everyone home until further notice. The only person I want to be with right now is the one who g
ets me like no one else. I send Jude a hurried text:

  Me: I need you. Can we meet?

  Jude: Of course. Where are you?

  Me: Leaving my parents’ house. I can’t go back to my staff right now. I’m a mess.

  Jude: We can stay at the Palmer House tonight. I’ll cancel my appearances, make the reservation, and text you the room number.

  Me: Okay. Thank you.

  Jude: See you there.

  I start my car and drive away, grateful my mom didn’t come home when I was there. Just thinking about my dad telling her this news makes me break down in angry tears again.

  It’s all been a lie. Finding out about my dad’s affair has opened my eyes about myself and my own motivations in a big way. Turns out my ugly, shameful secret—my relationship with Jude—is actually the truest thing I have going.

  Chapter 23

  Before she even has a chance to knock, I’m pulling her inside the hotel room and wrapping her in my arms. She melts into me, squeezing my body tightly as if I’m her anchor.

  “It’ll be okay,” I whisper in her hair.

  “It won’t be okay. Nothing will ever be the same.” She fists my shirt in her hands and buries her face in my chest.

  I soothe her, rubbing her back, and I kiss her head tenderly. “I’m sorry,” I tell her because I don’t know what else to say in a moment like this. My hands tangle in her hair, resting at the nape of her neck, and I stay silent.

  She peers up at me with glassy eyes, tears ready to fall. “I knew my father was a jerk, but I didn’t realize what an asshole he really is, Jude.”

  I hold back my laughter. Most people know Stan Preston isn’t a good man—he’s a politician and one that’s been in the system for far too long to keep his nose clean. But even if the world knew it, his daughter hadn’t processed the information. She looked at her father with rose-colored glasses. It’s hard to see the imperfections in our families, even if they’re obvious to everyone else.

  “I’m so mad right now, I want to…”

  “I know,” I say, tightening my arms around her.

  “I feel like my life is spinning out of control, and no matter how hard I try to stop it, I can’t.”

  Pressing my lips against her forehead, I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

  She looks up, meeting my lips. “You’re the only person in my life who brings me joy.” She smiles softly.

  My hands move to her face, cupping her cheeks in my palms and I return the smile. “I feel the same.” Leaning forward, I brush our lips together, relishing her softness.

  She stands on her tiptoes and snakes her arms around my neck. “Kiss me, Jude. There’s nothing more I want than to get lost in you tonight.”

  “Are you sure about that, Reagan? There’s no going back.”

  “I’m sure,” she whispers, looking me straight in the eyes without blinking.

  This isn’t how I planned our first time to take place, but after months of kissing, flirting, and heavy petting, I can’t resist. There’s also something undeniably hot about knowing I can make the rest of the world go away for her.

  I crush my mouth against hers, inhaling her breath and mingling it with my own. In this moment, everything else in our lives begins to fall away and the only thing that matters is us.

  Her hands glide under my shirt, sending chills down my spine from the scrape of her fingernails against my skin. My hands sweep down her body, cupping her ass in my hands as I lift her against me and carry her toward the bed. Our lips never leave each other, the need to stay connected and lost stronger than ever before. There’s nothing soft and gentle about this. We’re needy, greedy, and hungry for the other.

  Gently, I place her on the bed underneath me and settle between her legs. My cock’s already hard, straining against my sweatpants and aching to be inside her.

  The tips of my fingers find the straps of her cami, sliding them down her arms to expose her breasts. I’m not ready to break our kiss; the air she feeds me is far too sweet to stop.

  My hand moves from her arm to her chest, grasping her bra-clad breast in my palm. Her heart’s beating wildly under my fingertips, matching the rapid rhythm of my own. The tiny moan she’s making has my brain going haywire, telling me to go faster than I want to, and I ignore it. I’m going to savor every moment I’m touching Reagan because I don’t know when I’ll have another chance.

  She’s clawing at my skin and moving my shirt up my back. When her hands are between my shoulder blades, our lips part while she pulls the shirt over my head.

  As soon as my head is free, my lips drop to her neck and blaze a trail to her chest, yanking her breast free from her bra. Her back arches off the bed as I pull her nipple into my mouth and begin to toy with it. The hardness mixed with the lush softness of her body drives me wild with lust. I need to taste her, explore her entire body, and claim her as mine.

  Working her sweatpants down her legs, I rip her panties down too before pushing myself up. I settle back on my feet and stare down at her, dragging my fingertips across her smooth skin. “Give me everything tonight, Reagan. Work out all the hurt and anger against my body,” I tell her as I slide her pants off and climb off the bed. They get tossed to the side, joining the pile of clothing already on the floor.

  Her fingers are gripping the comforter and her legs have closed slightly, but I nudge them apart as I climb back onto the bed and nestle in between them.

  “Jude,” she moans. “It’s never been like this for me. With you, everything is so much more.”

  Tears shine in her eyes and I feel a catch in my throat.

  “For me, too,” I say, clearing my throat. “But it’s hard to put into words.”

  “Don’t say anything,” she says softly. “Just show me.”

  I splay my hand across her stomach and bring my mouth down against her, gently licking her with the flat of my tongue. Her back arches off the bed and she gasps for air, fisting the comforter tighter. My mouth comes down on her again, needing another taste of her sweetness. She moans and flattens her feet against the mattress, letting her legs spread farther.

  I’m hungry for her, hungrier than I ever remember being for anything in my life. Her fingers twist into my hair, holding my face against her pussy.

  She’s moaning my name and tugging on my hair, driving me crazy with lust as I feast on her body. My tongue is sweeping against her, and her moans grow breathier and higher pitched the harder I suck.

  When her breathing turns ragged and she starts to chant, “Yes, Yes,” I know I have her on the brink.

  My hands slide under her ass, lifting her body so I can get a better angle. I bury my face against her.

  “Yes. Oh, my God. I’m so—” she grunts and goes silent just as her body tenses in my hands.

  Her thighs close, trapping me in paradise, but I don’t stop. I could die here and be a happy man. There’s no sweeter death than this. I’m moaning my happiness against her clit, giving her a new sensation as her body’s quaking against me. Her cries of pleasure make my cock throb with need, but there’s something more powerful than that happening inside me. It’s like I’ve already emptied myself into her, in a way that’s more than physical.

  She sucks in a breath before collapsing against the mattress. “Fuck.” She blinks repetitively to clear her haze.

  My eyes are still locked on hers when I lift my face and lick my lips clean. “That was so fucking hot. There’s nothing like watching you come apart because of me.” I’m climbing up her body and kicking off my pants. When my dick nudges her opening, I stop. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom.”

  I start to think of how to remedy the situation. Would the concierge deliver one? I’m sure that would make the tabloids by morning.

  Her fingers are stroking my shoulder muscle. “When were you tested?”

  “Last month, but it’s been months since I’ve been with anyone. I always use protection and every test has been clean.”

  “Me too,” she says, locking her ankles
against my ass. “And I’m on the pill.”

  Her soft skin and faint amber scent test my already fading control. I’ve never fucked a woman without a condom.

  “Reagan…you could tempt a saint.” I want to stay still and memorize the way she feels in this moment, but my body’s screaming at me to crawl inside of her.

  “Good thing you’re not one.” She smiles up at me lazily and digs her heels into my ass, pushing my cock against her. She lifts her head and captures my lips with hers. Our tongues tangle together and all thoughts of waiting evaporate. “Fuck me,” she whispers into my mouth.

  I may be cautious, but I’m not an idiot. When the woman you’ve fallen in love with tells you to fuck her, you do.

  Reaching between us, I guide my cock through her wetness before inserting just the tip, careful not to hurt her. She gasps and tenses underneath me. My vision blurs as I push deeper.

  Her warmth surrounds me, and I’m lost. Our bodies move together, grinding against each other slow and purposeful. Our lips are inseparable and our hands are roaming the other’s body as we move in sync.

  I’m not banging her like a porn star. This isn’t about showing off or proving my manhood. This is something different—something more.

  Our bodies are connected, and our souls are fusing together—becoming one.

  When she comes apart beneath me, panting and crying out my name as she milks my cock dry, I know I’ve just lost myself to her forever. And it feels damn good.

  We lie side by side with our limbs tangled together, both sweaty and satisfied.

  She rolls slightly, curling into my body, and I wrap an arm around her back. “I just want to stay here forever,” she admits.

  “Me too, Reagan. Me too.” I kiss her forehead and pull her closer.

  She peers up at me, her cheeks pink and flushed. “What happens now?”

  “Fuck if I know.” I blow out a breath and think about the answer to that question.

  What happens when two people who are supposed to hate each other feel the exact opposite? Before tonight, there was enough on each of us to end both of our political careers, but now… Now there’s more than just a job on the line.