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Authors: Tara Mills

Sexual Politics (7 page)

BOOK: Sexual Politics
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She let out a tired laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry. Last night was a one-time deal. Special circumstances.” Taking her first sip of coffee, she released a deep moan of satisfaction. “Mmm, so good.”

Shifting in his chair at what the sexy sound did to him right after she said the overnights were over, he was only half kidding when he said, “You sure know how to ruin a bright, sunny morning.”

“Do I?” Her hazel green gaze settled on him and she smiled sadly. “Sorry. Let’s just say
for now
. Who knows, maybe we’ll revisit the issue someday. If you’re interested.”

“I’m interested.”

“You say that now.”

Clearly she didn’t have a lot of confidence in a man’s constancy. Not that he blamed her. All he could do was prove he was nothing like her shitty, cheating husband.

He covered her hand resting on the table with his own and stared deeply, seriously back at her. “I’m interested, Justine,” he repeated firmly. “I’d carry you back to that bedroom this instant if you let me. You have no idea how much I want to make love to you. I want to erase the memory of every other man you’ve been with before me. I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave either,” she whispered and turned her wrist under his so they could hold hands.

They finished their coffee without letting go.

* * * *

The elevator ride down to the parking garage was depressing. They stared longingly at each other from either side of the conveyance.

“Is this goodbye?” he asked sadly.

Blinking rapidly, she nodded. “For now.”

“Come here.” He held out his hand and she reached for it. When they clasped, he tugged her hard against him and clutched her head, his arm locked around her. Their kiss was filled with loneliness, desperation, and heartache. Yet he put all his love for her into it. He wanted her to understand even apart, he’d be there for her, waiting.

She was crying when she drew back. Cupping his face, she nodded. “I know. Me too.”

Hugging one last time, neither was prepared for the bedlam when the doors slid open and they were confronted by flashing cameras and people shouting questions at them.

Springing away from her, Sean punched the
Close Door
button with the heel of his hand.

“What the hell was that?” He was in shock.

Justine looked stricken as she covered her mouth with both hands. “Someone must have seen us together last night. Everyone has a camera phone these days. All it takes is one picture loaded onto the internet and… Oh God!”

Punching a random floor, he tugged her out of the elevator when the door opened and scrolled through the numbers on his phone.

“I’ve got about twenty messages,” he said in amazement.

Justine pulled her phone out of her coat pocket and turned it on. She gasped. “There’s over fifty on mine.”

Dialing his friend, Sean looked at her and placed a finger over his lips. “Trent, I need your help.”

“You seduced a prominent politician’s wife last night. You’re damn right you need help.”

“Not now,” he said impatiently. “There are reporters and photographers camped out in my parking garage. I have to get her home. Can you pick us up? Come in through the alley.”

“You’re lucky I don’t have anything better to do this morning. Give me thirty minutes.”

Cutting the call, Sean gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We might as well go back upstairs to wait.”

She nodded and they returned to his apartment. While she sat in one of the armchairs in his living room, he sat at his desk and checked the computer. That’s when he finally saw the candid pictures showing him helping Justine into his car last night, champagne bottles in hand. It looked bad.

Uploading those images to the internet right from a phone would have taken no time at all. It brought out the sharks in droves. There must have been people parked outside for hours waiting for them to reappear. They didn’t. At least not until this morning, and Justine was in his arms, her hair down, and wearing the same damn dress from the night before. Things just went from bad to a lot worse.

As he watched, the stream of information updated and suddenly he saw the two of them caught like guilty lovers in the elevator.

Fuck.

The captions made him wince.

Senator Gary Hubbard’s wife caught with playboy photographer Sean O’Donnell, famous for his nude portraits.

Justine Hubbard, wife of Senator Gary Hubbard, busted playing sexual politics with Sean O’Donnell.

While the senator is away, his wife will play
.

Sickened at how quickly this was spinning out of control, he closed down the screen. How were they supposed to deny an affair? They could tell the truth, but the pictures he took of Justine last night would only incriminate them further, and he never had any intention of sharing those beyond the two of them. He needed time to think.

She still had one hand over her mouth while she scrolled through her messages. Then she turned to him with wide, haunted eyes. “I don’t want to talk to any of these people right now. Some never. I want to know how my private line was leaked.”

“We’ll deal with this. I think it’s safe to say there’s a crowd outside your townhouse too. Is there somewhere else we can take you? Somewhere safe and private?”

“My sister’s. I’ll call her.”

“I’ll call Trent back and see where he is.”

They hung up at the same time.

Sean spoke first. “He’s two blocks away. We should go.”

“Jeannie’s waiting for me.” Justine rose and picked up her purse.

“Good.”

He followed her to the door, but when he grabbed the knob, he didn’t open it. She turned to him, her frown of concern leaving that cute little mark between her brows. This time he didn’t want to erase it. It was growing on him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I won’t get to do this again once we leave this room.” Cupping her cheek, he brought his mouth to hers. Tasting her again, letting his lips cover and caress hers, he experienced a surge of relief when her hand curled behind his neck and she pulled him in deeper, kissing him back. Their tongues circled and stroked, their bodies pressed and ground. Nuzzling noses and cheeks, he sighed with regret. “Why didn’t I make love to you last night?”

“Decency?”

“I’m a condemned man anyway.”

“I’m the Scarlet Woman.”

Chuckling ruefully at that, he stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. “Hardly.”

* * * *

They’d just reached the bottom of the landing when Sean got his call. His friend was coming down the alley. Timing was everything so he told them exactly when to leave through the fire door. The silver Land Rover had barely stopped rolling before Sean boosted her into the backseat, slammed the door, and then dove into the front with the driver.

“Heads down,” said his friend. “There are people crawling all over your place.”

Other than a few pats on the outside of the vehicle as they rolled through, no one tried to stop them when they pulled back onto the street.

As soon as their rescuer gave them the all-clear, Justine sat up and buckled her seatbelt. She saw the driver raise his sunglasses and look at her in the rearview mirror.

“Mrs. Hubbard, I presume?”

“Justine.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Trent.”

“Thanks for helping us, Trent.”

Sean lowered his visor and used his own mirror to see her. “You okay back there?”

“Under the circumstances? Yes.”

“What’s our destination, Justine?” asked Trent.

“West. Wayfair Avenue. I’m not sure about the house number—somewhere in the sixteen-hundreds.”

Trent programmed his GPS and they put some distance between the vehicle and the press. For the time being.

No one talked on the way. That was fine with her. She wasn’t ready to talk, let alone carry on idle getting-to-know-you chitchat. There were at least three messages from Gary on her phone, not to mention the five from his chief of staff before she stopped counting. Carter Douglass was a pit bull, a nasty loathsome pit bull. She didn’t care for the man. He was a sexist ass, but his calculated ruthlessness was very effective and he’d made a political mark for himself even if he didn’t have the personal charm to run for office himself. He created icons and destroyed others. She didn’t want to get anywhere near him. Once he took a bite out of her, he wouldn’t let go.

She did need to return her assistant’s calls. Someone had to clear her schedule. Then she realized Carter Douglass had probably done that already. He’d appointed the woman. Did he choose Lois so he could keep tabs on
her
? It wouldn’t surprise her, anything and everything to control the image without necessarily controlling the senator. She had a very uncomfortable conference coming up with Gary’s chief of staff, deputy chief of staff, and the communications director. How they chose to handle the budding scandal was anyone’s guess. Considering the man they worked for, there had to be a plan of action ready to go just in case. It was ironic they’d end up having to use it for her rather than her husband. For once, she was perfectly happy to let them handle her affairs, quite literally, for her. She simply wasn’t equipped for all this.

Recognizing where they were all of a sudden, she sat forward and began to pay attention.

“Tell me when we get to the right block,” Trent said, slowing down through the neighborhoods.

“Two more. It will be on the right. Green shutters and front door. Third house from the corner.”

Jeannie was watching from the window when they pulled up to the curb. She opened her door, hugging herself against the cold.

“Justine.” Sean turned and handed her a folded slip of paper between the seats. “My number. Don’t be afraid to call me.”

Her heart breaking, she nodded. “Goodbye.” She exited the car and dashed up the steps and into her sister’s arms.

* * * *

Sean knew it was coming. They hadn’t reached the end of the block before Trent started in on him.

“She’s a beauty.” Pulling up to the stop sign, Trent looked at him incredulously. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Nothing happened.”

Trent laughed. “It’s me. I won’t sell you out.”

“Read my lips. We. Did. Not. Have. Sex.” Shaking his head, he admitted, “Yeah, all right, I want to,
bad
, but
she
won’t. I only took photos of her last night.”

“You’re telling me she spent the night at your place and nothing happened?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. It was perfectly innocent.”

“What about the elevator this morning?”

“That was…unfortunate. We were saying goodbye.” He couldn’t hide how depressed he felt right now.

Trent glanced over, reading him as only a best friend can. “I’m sorry. Obviously you care about her.”

“I do.” Snorting, Sean dropped his head back and rubbed his temple. “You know what really pisses me off? Can I talk about this?”

“Go for it.”

“The rumors about her husband are true. The guy’s a total dick. Can’t keep it in his pants. I don’t know what kind of hold he has on her, but the marriage is basically over. She’s just waiting until November to divorce him. She doesn’t want to hurt him in the next election.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Tell me about it.” He dropped his hand to his lap and sighed. “She’s a good person, Trent. Honest, warm, kind. I admire her.” Pausing to watch a meter maid ticket a parked car as they rolled by, he finally confided, “I’m falling for her and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“Whoa. Seriously?”

Sean sighed. “Yes.”

“Is she strong enough to weather this?”

That was a good question, one that chilled Sean to the marrow. “I don’t know.”

“And those pictures you took?”

“Would only hurt us both at this point.”

“I figured. How did she look?”

Remembering the unblemished delicacy of her skin against the white muslin and those graceful feminine curves, he had to smile. “Spectacular.”

Trent’s soft laugh died out and he turned serious. “What are we doing now? Do you want to stay at my place for a while and wait for this to blow over?”

“I can’t. I’m too busy to hide out.”

“Bet you get even more clients now.”

Sean snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Justine’s downfall just raised my profile outside the art world. People are going to want to take potshots at her and throw money at me.”

“Forward your calls to the gallery. I’ll only pass the legitimate numbers back to you.”

“You’d do that?”

“My staff will, but I suggest you do something nice for them as a thank you, like scoring tickets to a show or dinner at one of those trendy restaurants you’re going to be promoting. It’s next to impossible to get a table in some of those places.”

“Done.”

Trent glanced at him. “So I’m taking you home?”

“Yep.”

“Then check the glove box.”

Curious, Sean popped the button and saw a hat and dark glasses inside. He laughed at the ridiculousness of his situation. “Thanks.”

“No sweat. I don’t play personal taxi for just anyone.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I hope things work out for you two.”

“Me too.”

Trent had a shit-eating grin on his face when he asked, “Any chance I can see those pictures you took last night?”

That earned him a backhanded cuff on the arm. “Never.”

“Just checking.”

* * * *

Justine was chin deep in a hot, bubbly tub when there was a rap on the door.

“Sweetie, I have fresh clothes for you. Can I come in?”

“It’s unlocked.”

Her sister peeked inside then quietly ventured in and set the folded clothing on the vanity. Giving her a sorrowful smile, she asked, “How are you holding up?”

“I don’t honestly know. I’m afraid to face the music.”

Jeannie threw up her hand and asked point blank, “What were you thinking? You have a public marriage.”

“And an unfaithful husband.” Irritated, Justine slapped the water, sending bubbles in every direction. Using her hand, she scooped them down the tile wall and back into the tub. “Sorry, but this is so unfair! Gary’s been sleeping around for years and no one has exposed him. Yet I fall asleep at a friend’s apartment and I’m branded a cheating hussy. We didn’t
do
anything!”

BOOK: Sexual Politics
2.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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