Campaign of Desire (CSA Case Files 4) (19 page)

It was close to one in the morning when the last of the poll results were shown, cheering and shouting sounding throughout the room. Stan Dunaway was the victor of another state and he would continue to face the uphill battle of becoming the President of the United States. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged throughout the group. Kimmie was standing by her father, whispering something in his ear. Whatever was said warranted the man to kiss his daughter tenderly on the forehead. Lach and Ethan prepared to lead the way down to where Dunaway would give his speech, his daughters by his side.

“One more down, a lot more to go.” The soft words came from Phoebe, as she placed her hand on his arm before they all filed out into the hallway.

Lach didn’t reply, but instead did his job and escorted the group downstairs. Vehicles had been prepared that would take everyone to a reception hall down the street where supporters had gathered. Phoebe had to know that these eighteen to twenty hour days were just beginning and the next nine months would be hell. Once again, she would be devoting her life to someone other than herself.

“Exiting now. En route to lobby level.”

Chapter Fifteen

T
hree days later, Lach and the team had done a successful transfer of their duties to the Secret Service. He wasn’t too partial to the primary agent assigned to Phoebe, but there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot he could do about it. The primary would run a rotation schedule similar to how Lach had operated his PSD. There was no mention of Kimmie’s misadventures to the new crew, nor would there be. Dunaway had made himself clear. The Secret Service would do their own investigations on family, friends, and anyone personally connected with the Dunaways. It was a clean start and one that was needed.

“Lach. May I have a word with you?”

Crest, Connor, Ethan, and Lach had been headed for the door when Phoebe’s request stopped him. He told the others to go on ahead and that he would meet up with them at the office. Cases were waiting and with Taryn having already requested her time off to go up north to vet out answers regarding her past, things were promising to get real busy fast. It was just another day of work.

“Not smart, Phoebe.” Lach stood in front of her, where she’d positioned herself against the far right side of the room. She split her time between a six-foot table in the corner and her father’s office whenever he was on the road. Lach certainly wouldn’t miss the madness that occurred non-stop within these walls. “To these people, we have a professional relationship. I was your PSD lead agent. We should spell things out before we take things any further.”

“Which is why I’m inviting you over for dinner tonight,” Phoebe said softly, keeping her words low so that no one overheard them. “Say…eight o’clock?”

“Since when do you leave this place any earlier than midnight? You don’t think a change in routine won’t raise some eyebrows?”

“Are you worried about being seen with me?” Phoebe was wearing high heels, but the top of her head still didn’t reach his chin. Lach looked down at her, and although she appeared to be buoyant, that exhaustion he’d been seeing was taking its toll. “The public isn’t going to care who I have dinner with.”

“One, they aren’t going to know that we’re having dinner together until we’ve discussed things. Two, you’ll leave here no later than eighteen hundred and I’ll be there with food in hand. If you’re not there, the evening is cancelled.”

Lach could see that his instructions irritated her, but that was just tough shit. Her idea for this evening was not what she was going to experience. It was obvious over these last few months that she didn’t know how to properly take care of herself. A protein bar here and there didn’t cut it. It wasn’t his place to comment before, but today’s events would change things. Could she handle the man that he truly was?

*   *   *   *

“You’re one minute late.”

“Would you really have left?” Phoebe asked exasperatedly, shooting him a sideways look to show him she didn’t believe he would. They’d waited too long for this moment. She held up her key to him, knowing that he’d turned his over to the Secret Service. She looked over her shoulder at Jim, her new guard. He wasn’t very talkative, but then she didn’t need him to be. They waited patiently as he searched her apartment for any threats and then positioned himself by the door, showing no interest in the discussion she was about to pick up again. “Traffic was heavy.”

“Since I just arrived and have personally experienced the streets, I’ll give you that. Which is why I would have waited five more minutes…not a second more.”

Phoebe could have sworn he was serious, but Lach busied himself with opening her door. She tried to take the bag full of containers from his grasp, but he wouldn’t allow her to. Shrugging at his stubbornness, she followed him inside of her apartment. This was the first night she’d been home this early in weeks. She placed her purse on the side table and went about unbuttoning her dress coat. Uncharacteristically, she kicked off her shoes and left them by the coat rack. Her feet hurt and she wasn’t about to walk through the apartment to take them off in her closet.

“Take a seat at the counter.” Lach made himself at home by placing the to-go bags in the kitchen, quickly checking the entire apartment for his own comfort, and then shedding his leather jacket. His holster was still secured to his chest, but the white ribbed long-sleeved shirt he was wearing contoured his physique rather nicely. She thought of telling him they could skip dinner, but as he went back into the kitchen and tore into the bag, the mouthwatering aroma of Italian tomato sauce surfaced into the air. “Get started on this while I open up a bottle of wine.”

“It smells so good,” Phoebe exclaimed as she hoisted herself up on a stool. “What restaurant did you use? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that logo.”

“It’s a quaint little hole in the wall outside of the city.” Lach went about opening the wine and only paused once to look at her food pointedly, telling her to take a bite. Phoebe caved and had to close her eyes as the tangy sauce covered her tongue. It was unlike anything she’d ever had before. “Have you ever heard of Masters?”

The question took Phoebe by surprise and she found herself trying not to choke on her pasta. Lach promptly placed the glass of wine in front of her, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor etched in his face. He was dead serious. All at once, everything fell into place—all of his past comments, his dominant behavior, and his need for control. She swallowed and waited a few more moments before revealing part of the truth.

“It’s a club, isn’t it?”

“Go on.” Could Lach see that Phoebe knew exactly what kind of club Masters really was? He wanted her to continue to describe it and seemed willing to wait her out. He picked up a fork and dug into his food as if they weren’t actually having a discussion about Dominants and submissives. This wasn’t your typical dinner conversation. “What kind of club?”

“You know what kind of club,” Phoebe answered petulantly, taking another sip of wine to calm her nerves. Just talking about what went on in that place had jacked up the heat in her apartment. He kept eating and patiently looked across the counter at her with those dark eyes of his. The word slipped out of her mouth. “Kink.”

“Yes,” Lach agreed, taking a napkin and wiping his mouth. Phoebe tried not to fixate on his lips, but he was making that rather hard. He’d lifted one side up into a sensuous smile. “Let me be more specific. BDSM—Bondage, discipline, sadism, masochism, or dominance and submission. It all depends on the person and how they view it and play out the lifestyle.”

Phoebe’s heart was beating a little too fast and her hands were perspiring. It was if her dreams were unfolding and seeing the light of reality. Today’s event had allowed them to be in each other’s company on a personal level in place of a professional one. Tonight’s occurrence had taken that personal level to an intimate one with just an exchange of words. She took another sip of wine and protested when Lach took it from her hands.

“Eat.”

“What?” Was he kidding? Phoebe couldn’t eat another bite, not when they were discussing BDSM. “I’m not hungry.”

“Yes, you are.” Lach pointed to her food. “Eat. I’ll talk.”

Phoebe hesitantly picked up her fork, searching Lach’s eyes to see if this was some type of test. Did he think she would always follow his orders? She sure as hell didn’t have that type of personality, but she wouldn’t mind playing around. Was that what he was getting at? She took another bite and although it was just as good as the first, she felt like she was waiting on pins and needles for what he was about to say.

“When I was a Marine, I was on leave with some buddies.” Lach continued to eat with gusto and talk in between bites as if this was a normal discussion. “One of them lived in Southern California, so I stopped there first instead of heading home. I spent the weekend getting an education, especially for a guy who’d been somewhat sheltered. My buddy got a few of us some guest passes, and by the end of the weekend my ass didn’t get home that time, much to my parents dismay. I became a member and learned who I was, what I like, what I crave, and what makes me satisfied.”

Phoebe was on autopilot with her eating, picking up the food with her fork and putting it in her mouth. She had to remind herself to chew every now and then, but she got enough down to keep him talking. Her skin was tingling as he described his first time in the lifestyle. She would eventually have to admit a few things herself, but she wanted to hear more of what he had to say.

“I get pleasure out of taking a woman to heights she’s never experienced before. Each scene is constructed to bring out her most basic animal gratification to the submissive beneath my touch and that is just the beginning.” Lach finally pushed his plate away, using the napkin once again to wipe his mouth. He picked up her glass and drank the last little bit that had been at the bottom. “This part of me isn’t something that I’m willing to give up. Which is why we’re having this conversation. You and I agree that there’s this chemistry between us and we both want to act on that. So I see two ways this is going to unfold.”

Phoebe finally put her fork down, using her own napkin. She looked at the white tissue, seeing that she’d smeared off most of her lipstick. There was a part of her that wanted him to stop the discussion right where they were, giving her time to catch her breath. Feeling the heat of his stare, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She met his dark gaze and wondered how in hell they’d lasted this long. Did he not realize that even talking about dominance and submission made her want to tear her clothes from her body and submit?

“One, you agree to expand your horizons and are willing to trust me to show you pleasure beyond your wildest imagination.” Lach slowly walked around the island and didn’t stop until he turned her stool and was right in front of her. She unconsciously widened her legs, giving him a place to settle. He tucked her hair behind her ears for her before cradling her face, so she placed her hands on his arms. “Or two, you decide that it’s not what you want. We agree to quench these flames that spark up every time we’re near each other and then go our separate ways.”

“What if I choose option two, but I don’t want to go my separate way?” Phoebe had no idea why she’d asked that question. Maybe she was testing him. The words had just slipped out. “What would you say?”

“That I am who I am.” Lach brushed a thumb across her cheek as if in reassurance. “Something I said similar before was misconstrued and I don’t want that happening again. So let me expand. There is a fierce hunger within me that needs to be sated. I’m not a sadist, but I do like control. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself in the company of a beautiful woman from time to time and keep it vanilla.”

“But if I want something longer?”

“I would never ask you to be someone you’re not, Phoebe.”

“I suppose now is the time to tell you what’s in that trunk in my closet,” Phoebe said, feeling her body awash in warmth at sharing her secret. She had never thought she’d find someone to understand her wants and desires, but he was standing in front of her and after having waited all this time, she wasn’t about to let him go over a little embarrassment. “You know, the one that I could fit a body into?”