The Kept Woman (15 page)

He raised himself up to a standing position and adjusted Sam so that she was once again at the very edge of the bed. He opened her legs wide, kissed her feet and toes, and began to give it to her.

"I don't want to hurt you, but—
fuck
—I can't hold back."

Sam gulped down air. "Then don't. Just give it to me, Jack."

"Oh God yes! This is incredible. You are so—" Jack opened his eyes and looked right into Sam's face. A huge smile lit up his eyes and he laughed. "Damn! You've still got it!"

"I still got it!" Sam laughed with him. "This is amazing!"

"You're amazing. Baby, just look at you. . .." Jack's eyes were filled with wonder. "You are so beautiful, Sam. You look perfect with me in you, do you know that? This is incredible. I'm not going to be able to get enough of this."

Sam felt a hot rush spike deep in her belly. She was going to come again. Unbelievable. "Don't stop!"

"I won't."

"Don't ever stop! I mean it!" Sam grabbed his upper arms and held on tight, her eyes locked on his. "I'm coming again. Don't you dare stop!"

"I'm never going to stop. Ever—" Jack dropped her feet and gripped her upper thighs and pulled her even closer. "Oh God, I lie." Jack laughed at himself. "We'll do this again, I promise. But right now. . .I'm sorry, but you feel so damn good I can't. . ."

Sam's shoulders rose from the bed and she felt her entire body begin to spasm as she cried out. Jack just continued pummeling her harder, faster, his eyes glazed over with lust and locked on hers, and he began to come with her. She gripped his shoulders and stared at him in wonder as she felt him swell and throb inside her, drops of sweat falling from his face onto her breasts.

"God, Sam!" Jack gripped her harder and gave one last push, remaining deep inside her as he began to shake and groan. "Oh shit, yes! My God!"

He collapsed on top of her and she threw her arms around him and squeezed, feeling his body tremble from head to toe. Jack had his face buried in the crook of her neck and his breath was hard and fast. All she could do was close her eyes and hold on tight as the heat continued to spread through her limbs, followed by a bone-deep peace. She didn't know how much time had gone by when Jack finally spoke.

"Sam?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm having this mental picture." Jack slowed his breathing. "I lift you up from the bed right now, carry you in my arms, tuck you in, and snuggle up with you until we fall asleep together."

Sam smiled underneath him. "That's a nice mental picture."

"Unfortunately, I can't move."

"I figured."

"You nearly killed me."

She laughed and stroked his big back. "You'll live."

As he chuckled, his body rubbed against hers. She knew he was keeping most of his weight off her by propping himself on his forearms. Sam took the opportunity to caress the taut muscles of his upper arms, sighing at the substantial feel of him. She could definitely get used to this.

She pushed the thought out of her head.

Jack managed to shift his weight to his feet and separate himself from her. He lowered her legs and scooted her body up on the bed. It wasn't as romantic as carrying her, but it got the job done, and in an instant he was in bed next to her, pulling the covers over them both.

"Come here, Samantha." He drew her close, gently pushing her head down to his chest. He kept his hand on the back of her head, as if to make sure she didn't move.

Like she'd want to.

Sam let her fingers play in Jack's sparse chest hair, enjoying the thick, coarse quality of each strand, feeling her pulse return to normal and the tingling subside. She'd never been with a man as in charge as Jack. Or as big as Jack. Or as physically powerful. It had felt extremely erotic to be underneath him, so small in comparison, dragged around the bed like that.

She loved the fact that the dowdy hairstylist had the bad-boy player so excited he couldn't control himself. Sam smiled, her cheek pressing against a firm pectoral.

"How you doing down there?" Jack stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm great. You?"

"Better than great."

Jack was big and solid and steady against her. He was so different from Mitch. Her ex-husband always seemed to be in motion, at his glass studio and at home, and much of it had been nervous, undirected bursts of energy. Mitch was a pale man with blond hair and a slim build and an intensely handsome face. Her favorite times with him had been whenever she got to watch him blow glass. She'd always be entranced by the complicated dance steps of his work, how he would pace and circle as he'd spin the glass, thrusting the long metal pole into the fiery oven and pulling it out again. It used to turn her on seeing him like that, at his most passionate. She'd always leave the studio with a wistful hope that Mitch could summon the same intensity for her someday. But he never really did. His glass always got what passion he could muster, and she'd always gotten the leftovers.

"That was sure different," Sam said, her thoughts finding their way into words.

"Hmm. Not exactly a hall of fame nomination." The amusement was clear in Jack's voice.

"You know what I meant."

"Maybe."

"You're a wonderful lover, Jack, but you surprised me."

She felt Jack's chest move with silent laughter. "I surprised myself."

"How's that?"

"Oh well, you know, I wasn't exactly suave. You felt too good for me to manage suave. And it's been a while for me, too."

That made her laugh. "Oh?"

"It'll be three weeks on Tuesday."

"My God, how have you survived?"

He patted her shoulder. "I ask myself the same thing every day."

Sam blew out a breath of air and shook her head. "It's been eighteen months for me, Jack."

Jack's hand stilled on her shoulder. His whisper came out rough. "That's a very long time, sweetie."

"You're telling me. And that was a onetime shot. So I've had sex a grand total of once in close to four years."

Jack rose to a sitting position and propped several pillows behind his head, pulling Sam with him. He hugged her tight but didn't say anything.

"And really," Sam continued, "those last few years before I got pregnant with Dakota were mighty dry. That was when Mitch hit on the pea-pod theme with his work and decided he was gay. I think of it as his pea-pod-to-penis period."

"I see."

"Yeah, so he had his sexual crisis and took me along for the ride. I wasn't getting any sex! That's a crisis." Sam peered up at him. "You knew my husband decided he was gay, right?"

"Kara mentioned it."

"Yeah, well, he reverted to heterosexuality one last time for the road. Then he was outta there."

Jack's big hand came to rest on her hip, and he cupped her, pulling her closer. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"Me, too."

"You deserve so much more than that."

She laughed, then nodded gently against his chest. He was right. She did deserve more—all around. And that was why this job had been a godsend for her. "I was hoping that after the primary I could start dating again, you know? Invest some time and energy into finding a man I can at least do things with. I'm ready for that."

"I'm sure you are," Jack said.

"But he has to like my kids. I know Monte has dated some potentially interesting men who couldn't handle the fact that she had Simon. She sent them packing."

"I just bet."

"She's tried Internet dating. She told me it's like a gambling addiction—you're absolutely sure the next one is going to be the big payoff, but he never is."

"Sounds pretty grim."

"But I have no idea what's out there for me. I haven't had time to pay attention to what's swimming around in the pool of thirty-something single men of Indianapolis. What if there's not much to choose from?"

"Probably just sharks and bottom-feeders, huh?"

"Maybe you could introduce me to someone nice."

Jack cleared his throat. "Samantha? You are the first woman I've ever slept with who used pillow talk time to ask me to find her a date."

Sam giggled and removed her head from Jack's chest, sitting up next to him. "We both know that
this—
" She gestured at the two of them in bed, then gave his comforter-covered thigh a pat. "This is going nowhere."

Jack had no response, which was what Sam expected. What was there to say? They both knew they'd succumbed to a momentary lapse of good judgment and that was that. As the seconds ticked by, Sam smiled to herself and looked around the room at the firelight, the candles, and thought how silly it all was. This was about as romantic a setting as she could imagine, but what had happened here hadn't been romance. It had been just sex. Incredible sex. Oustanding sex. But just sex.

"I'd like to date you, Sam." Jack's soft words sounded like a cannon going off about an inch from her ear.

"Excuse me?" She stared at him. Jack relaxed his head back against the pillows and looked at her through half-closed eyelids. The smallest smile played on those lips of his.

"I'd like to date you." He crossed his beefy arms over his chest. "I'm pretty sure I meet all your requirements. I'm a man. I like to do things. I'm still in my thirties. I think your kids are pretty cool. I'd like to date you."

Sam's mouth fell open, and she saw Jack's smile widen at her reaction. "That's not possible."

"And why's that?"

"Because we're
engaged
, Jack. Well, fake engaged anyway, and you can't date someone you're pretending to be engaged to."

"Who says?"

"I'm sure it's against somebody's code of ethics."

Jack shook his head back and forth slowly, looking like he was scanning through a cache of ethical trivia he stored in his brain. "Nope. I think we're good."

Sam clutched the covers to her chest. "Are you serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack."

"You want to date me?"

Jack smiled at Sam, then grabbed her hand. "You say that like it's the strangest thing you ever heard. Why wouldn't I want to date you? You're fun and sweet and beautiful and smart, and as I just found out, you're great in the sack."

"So are you." Sam swallowed hard and continued staring at him.

"Thanks. But maybe you don't want to date me. Is that it?" Jack sat upright and crossed his legs, leaning closer to her. "If that's the case, I understand completely."

Sam let out a shocked breath of air. "Not to worry."

Jack lowered his gaze and chuckled before he raised his eyes to her again. "Then we're on?"

Sam's head spun. Who wouldn't want to date Jack? But this was just too complicated. "Let's say we date. What happens in three months when you decide you're ready to move on to Courtney or Brittany? Because we'll still have a business arrangement. You and I will still have to parade around town like the happy couple, and that doesn't sound all that fun to me."

Jack nodded. "OK. Then I won't get sick of you in three months. But who are Courtney and Brittany? Do I know them?"

"See? I'll be lucky to last three weeks." Sam wanted to put some distance between herself and Jack, but she knew she had precisely nothing on, and even though Jack had already seen her naked, walking nude around a room in front of a man was different. It implied a level of comfort she didn't have.

She could hardly believe any of this was even
real
.

"Look at it this way, Sam. At the very least I can be your warm-up, get you ready for all those single thirty-something Indianapolis men who'll be waiting for you to break up with me."

"Right." Sam really needed to get out of the bed. "Please close your eyes, because I have to use the restroom."

Jack laughed and shook his head. "The electricity is out, Sam. And I've already seen you. You're gorgeous."

Sam realized she'd been picking at a toss pillow's hand-tied tassel and a bunch of satin strings now puddled on the bed. She threw the pillow behind her. "Yeah, well, do it anyway, please."

"I'll try my best."

Sam looked sideways at Jack but didn't have it in her to chide him further. He was gut-wrenchingly handsome. Rumpled and relaxed in a post-sex sort of way. He looked so lovable. But she knew better, didn't she? This was Jack Tolliver, the guy who'd made that incredibly rude remark about a teacher's ass. She wracked her brain to remember one of the
Star
headlines she'd found on the Internet: "
Sexist Slip" Ends Tolliver's Campaign; Congressional Candidate "Ashamed" of Self
.

Sam studied Jack. That's what women were to him—pieces of ass. Why should she think she was any different? That would be nuts.

In a flash, Sam flipped the comforter over Jack's head and ran to the suite's bathroom, catching a glimpse of his grin as she shut the door behind her, which turned out to be a huge mistake, because there wasn't even a smidgeon of light in that room. She fumbled around to her left, where she knew an ornate white wrought-iron shelf held a stack of towels. She grabbed the first thing her fingers landed on and spread it over the front of her body. Unfortunately, she'd grabbed a washcloth.

"Nice robe. A little short, though." Jack had been waiting on the other side of the bathroom door when she opened it, and when he offered her a candle, his eyes scanned her from head to toe. "Thought maybe you could use a little light."

"Thanks." Sam grabbed the candle, turned, and flicked the towel over her bottom as she headed for the enclosed commode at the opposite end of the room. She heard his laughter as she ran.

Once inside the enclosure, Sam leaned against the door and groaned. This was completely unfair. Jack had turned out to be funny and kind and nothing like she'd expected him to be—and he wanted to
date
her. It was hard to reconcile the player reputation with the sweet playfulness she'd just encountered. Who was Jack Tolliver? Could he be trusted? Was he for real? Or was she just asking to have her heart broken?

Sam set the candle down on the back of the toilet and took a seat. Maybe she was looking at this all wrong, which would be understandable, since she hadn't exactly become a seasoned dating veteran in the last couple decades. Maybe this wasn't about her heart. Maybe this was about pleasure, enjoyment, diversion—sex. Maybe she could date Jack and keep it all in perspective. How many women would kill for this arrangement—a handsome former NFL quarterback had asked to date her, and he'd be paying for the privilege? She'd wanted to be a kept woman, after all, and this was pretty much the definition. In a way, Jack would be a kept man, too, because she'd be keeping him entertained and happy for the six months they were obligated to spend in each other's company. It was a no-brainer. A snap. Sam flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and opened the door.