Dirty Little Secrets (11 page)

Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know? That I was lying about the migraine?”

The side of James’s mouth crept up in a half smile. When he smiled he was impossibly beautiful for such a masculine being. He was always handsome, but his smile, even the half-hearted ones, transformed his face. He went from attractive to irresistible with the simplest of movements. “You have a tell. You would be a shit poker player.”

She studied his face as she considered his words. She didn’t have a tell, certainly not one that Ben had noticed, and he knew her better than anyone else. Megan didn’t lie very often, but when she did, she did it well, at least in her own mind. “What’s my tell?”

James shook his head. “Nope, I’m not saying. If you knew, you would try to compensate for it and then I would be knackered. It’s quite useful that your face has a built in lie detector. It could come in handy in so many ways.” His tone was teasing, the implication clear.

She could not resist asking. “You would use it against me, ask me personal questions like…I don’t know, my sex life.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care about your sex life before me. Only insecure men care about who their woman has been with before they met. If a man is doing it right, she will forget everyone else.”

He was so confident, but she knew from experience he had reason to be. Even after the fallout, she had to admit he was a fabulous lover. “Like my mom always said, I may have lost my virginity, but I still have the box it came in.” She tried to joke and ignore the warm heat that spread over her. James had accidently called her his woman. He was speaking in general terms, but her body responded like he was sending a message just for her. She could easily imagine being his woman; not on a permanent basis—James was a good for now guy, the type who sleeps with you and leaves you so completely satisfied, you don’t even mind that he has moved on before he even had a chance to throw the condom in the trash. Even Megan who had no understanding of relationships could see he would be an unsuitable partner in every imaginable way, but for a few hours a day, she would gladly let him claim her. She gave her head a small shake to dislodge that particular horrible idea. The first night she was with him, she had convinced herself she wanted him because she had gone so long without sex; now she had to admit she was simply attracted to him. There was no point in denying it. Her body responded to his, a carnal reflex she could not control. But she could control how she acted on it. Well, in theory she could. Her track record with him didn’t exactly support the claim.

“She sounds like a bright woman. Must be where you got it from.”

The mention of her mother was enough to bring her thoughts crashing back to reality. Why had she mentioned her mother? Megan had not spoken about her mom in years. Ben knew not to ask. She sent her mom money every month; just enough to keep her out of her life, not enough for her to think Megan had serious money and come looking for more. Her mom was a user. If she knew what had become of her only daughter, Suzy Jackson would make a beeline for Washington DC. She and Ben were going to have to deal with her mother when the campaign got into full swing, but she would worry about her mom later. Megan could only handle one train wreck at a time.

There was something about James, something confident and carefree, that acted as an assault on her inhibitions. She needed to be on guard. James was a journalist doing a story. Thinking of him as just an incredibly hot man to make bad choices with, had landed her in this mess in the first place. She needed to set down her boundaries. There were certain things she would not talk about. Not even for Ben.

“No, she is the opposite of that. But she is off the table. Anything that happened before I met Ben is off limits. Lucky for you we met when I was eighteen, so you have my entire adult life to comb through.” She cringed at the thought. Luckily she had made most of her mistakes before she reached adulthood, but there were still a few waiting to be uncovered.

“The viewers will want to know about your family life and upbringing. People need to know how you made the leap to beard for one of the most powerful men in politics. I’m guessing it wasn’t a childhood aspiration.”

“People don’t
need
to know anything about me. They
want
to know because it’s titillating.”

James shook his head. “For people to understand why you married a gay man, they need to know your motivation. It can’t be all about the money. You’re a brilliant woman. You could earn your own money.”

The small praise sent a hot warmth through her body. Ben rarely complimented her. She knew he admired her, because he said nothing. His policy was to criticise what was wrong; if people were doing things right, they did not need to be told, his silence was their approval. The system had worked well for them for over a decade. But it was nice to be told that someone knew she was smart. “I married Ben because he is my best friend. He has been there for me like no one else. If I’m perfectly honest, the money did help. When we met, I had nothing, not even a high school diploma. Ben saw potential in me I didn’t know I had. With his help, I got into community college and then I transferred to Columbia. Without him I would never have gotten into Harvard Law, or work for the district attorney. I owe him everything.” She could not even begin to encapsulate her gratitude. She was alive today because of Ben. That is why she would stop at nothing to protect him.

“His connections got you into Harvard but I reckon graduating first in your class was down to you. You’re smart and determined and you work bloody hard. Why are you selling yourself short? You would have succeeded no matter what. Why are you giving him the credit? You’re not nearly the feminist I thought you were.”

Her back stiffened at the observation. There were few things she hated more than having her independence questioned. She hated the idea that anyone could think she was not empowered. She did not need Ben because he was a man. She needed Ben the same way he needed her. “Ben and I helped each other. That doesn’t make me any less of a feminist. People need people to get by. Pair bonds are the corner stone of the human experience, it starts in infancy. All babies are born completely dependent on one person for their entire existence. As we get older the dyad changes, but it’s always just two people supporting each other. Ben is my person.”

“But you don’t have sex?” James asked pointedly.

“No.” Of course it would come back to sex for James. Everything about him radiated sexuality and raw masculine appeal. She could not see him going five years without sex.

“Ever?” James put down his notebook and stared directly at her. His notes were more like scribbles. She wondered again what his writing was like with his left hand.

She opened her mouth to speak before she realised he was watching her for her tell. She was going to ask Ben what it was as soon as she got home. She decided to avoid the question rather than lie. “How is that relevant?”

A smile played on his full lips. He was trying to make her feel uncomfortable. And he was enjoying it, almost like he was flirting with her again. “You have been married to the man for five years. People need to understand the exact nature of your relationship.”

“Again, they don’t need to know anything,” Megan countered. She was too intelligent to make the mistake of being taken in by his charm twice, even if it was the best sex she had ever had. She took a breath to clear her thoughts. Indulging in fantasies had landed her on her back.

James pinned her to the bench with his stare. “Do you want to do this story or not?” His voice was low. The implication was clear. If he was going to hold the story, she needed to be more compliant. James had all the power. She needed to remember that.

Megan took another deep breath. Of course she did not want to do this story. She would rather subject herself to 1000 paper cuts doused in acid. “We have never successfully had sex.” Megan forced herself to return his stare as she tried to pretend the answer was not mortifying.

James smirked, his mouth rising only on one side. “Does that mean you tried and failed? That…had to have been…unfulfilling.”

Megan nodded. She distracted herself by taking a long sip of ice tea. “And awkward,” she admitted. She had never spoken about the incident with anyone and it was strangely liberating. Her entire adult life had been secrets and cover-ups. She would not have picked James to confide in but as her mama always said, beggars can’t be choosers.

“Why did you do it?”

Megan’s eyes narrowed. What did he mean, why did she do it? Why does anyone have sex? For the vast majority of people it came down to hormones and alcohol and she was no different. She was hardly going to go on the record with that though. “Same reason all people have sex. The important part of the story is that it didn’t work and that is when he came out to me…well, as out as he will ever be. He liked to pretend he was straight and had never met the right woman. So the answer to your question is no, we have never had sex.” She was not going to relive the worst Valentine’s Day in human history any further.

“But you tried, so you must have had some level of physical intimacy?”

Megan let out a long stream of air. She was not used to being asked questions. She was the one who cross examined. A newfound empathy descended on her as she realised how invasive an interview could be. “People have sex. They don’t need a reason for it. Why did you have sex with me?” She turned the question on him.

Without missing a beat James said, “I had an erection and it seemed a waste not to use it. Now back to you. When was the last time you had sex? Present company excluded.”

Megan itched to slap the smirk off his face. He was far too good looking for his own good. Even with the jagged stitches marring his eyebrow. His words should have made her feel dirty and used but they sent a surge of sexual energy through her, because she knew she had used him just as much and enjoyed every stroke, every lick and every kiss. James’ other skill, besides getting her to admit things she had not intended to admit, was bringing out wanton desires she thought had abandoned her. Sitting beside him, she felt every inch the woman. Far from being offended by his coarseness, she was turned on. In a simpler world, she would let him use her again. She would let him use her until she was panting and begging for mercy and then she would use him right back.

Megan turned and stared down the length of the reflection pond to the Lincoln Memorial. She closed her eyes. The sun felt good on her face, the warmth kissing her cheeks. She felt invisible in the crowd of people. The tourists did not blink at the sight of her on the bench. She was just another body in a sea of people. Her mind wandered to a place where she really was just another anonymous person. She would love to be nobody again. But that was not going to happen.

She opened her eyes and sighed. She reminded herself that fantasising had got her into this mess to begin with. Her only priority was sorting out the fallout from her last bad decision. She didn’t have time to deal with another mistake. “You don’t need that for the story.”

“I am asking as the man who shagged you, not a journalist.”

Her head snapped round to face him. “You can’t ask me questions as a man. I will only answer questions from James Emerson the journalist. Going forward, the man I had a one-night stand with doesn’t exist. The answer to the question is that I have not had sex since I got married. And before you ask the reason I had not had sex in so long was because I have been busy and I have a very good vibrator. Off the record, it is mostly the latter, because people can always make time for sex when they want it.”

“So you wanted it last week. What changed? Why did you end your five-year dry spell with me?”

Megan sat and stared at him. Did the man not have a mirror? “Right time, right place. Consider it the female equivalent of not wanting to waste an erection.” She did not hide her face from him because there was no deception there for him to see. She had sex with him because she wanted to. She had not wanted it for a long time, but with James her body responded despite her head reeling against the idea. As an individual, he embodied so many things she detested, but as a man she did not see beyond the sexual being that could bring her pleasure. That realisation startled her. She didn’t expect that from herself, not that she thought she was above it, just that she did not know her body could be responsive with someone she did not care about. Hell, she didn’t like him, but when they were in bed that didn’t seem to matter. The apathy heightened the sensation. There was no emotion involved, just physical. And it felt good.

“Did you make a conscious decision not to have sex? Was that your idea or Ben’s?” James picked up his notebook again and started scribbling. There was no way he would be able to read his notes later.

“There was no choice conscious or otherwise. I just didn’t. Ben actually encouraged me to have sex. He says I am nicer after a good meal and a good fuck. Don’t put any of my swearing in your story.”

James’ dark brow rose in question. “That was you nicer? You didn’t even let me pull out of you before you flipped. I’m not going to lie, that is the oddest reaction to sex I have ever experienced. I did briefly worry that I had misread the signs. But then I remembered I was dealing with Megan McCoy. I would have known all about it if I had gotten it wrong.”

She nodded her head. Her cheeks warmed from something other than the sun. His voice was deep and rich. Discussing sex with him was its own foreplay. She was fairly certain she could come just by listening to him speak. She crossed and uncrossed her legs. “No, you didn’t misread the signs. I was very much up for it. And you are right, you would have known if I didn’t consent.”

“Then why did you freak out after?”

Megan bristled at the memory. “That was a normal reaction, all things considered. Lots of people get depressed after sex because serotonin levels drop off suddenly after orgasm. Don’t read anything into it.”

His eyes smiled “So you always do that after sex? Please tell me you do. Have I encountered my first female wombat?”