State of Play: Book Two; The Candidate

by Lee Taylor

  At the rasp of his tongue and his teeth grasping the sensitive peaks, Gia cried out. Shocked at the sensations raging though her, she arched up against him, a starburst of sparkling heat rioting through her. Dragging his head tighter against her breasts, she sobbed, “Oh God, oh my God, Logan. Do that.” She didn’t recognize her voice, it was so harsh with need. She didn’t want him to stop. She needed more, so much more. She was shocked to hear herself begging him not to stop, urging him to suck her harder, make her come. Just when she thought she couldn’t go any higher, feel any more, he grasped her nipple between his teeth and bit down hard.

  Long into the night he took her, invading one exquisitely sensitive place after another. First with his hands, then with his lips, tongue, and finally his teeth, he took her voraciously. All of the anger that had been building since she’d turned off her phone shutting him out spiraled. His fury that rose to a fierce crescendo when she dismissed him at the party and left him standing before the crowd, essentially with his dick in his hand, drove his sexy assaults. Urging her to feel, not hold back, he pushed her to heretofore-unattainable heights. Feeling the indescribable bursts of pleasure rioting though her, he gave in to torrents of sensations he’d never allowed himself to feel. Shock waves of pleasure flooded him, jagged, intense, and powerful. As wave after wave of fiery heat slammed over them both, he held her tight against him. Crooning soft, erotic words, he praised her, reveled in her. He knew that if it took him a lifetime to convince her, Gia needed to know that she was his woman and God help her, he was her man.

  Chapter 18

  Gia struggled to waken. She felt disoriented. Obviously, she was in her own bed—which in itself was confusing enough. She never slept here. Or at least so seldom that when she did, it spoke to needs other than sleep. Such as coming home to change clothes and being too tired to go back to her office. Burying her face in the pillow, she inhaled the heady scent of sex . . . and Logan. Which brought her hard up against the reality that was the most befuddling about her present circumstances. That being that until last night, the few times she had slept in her bed she had always been alone, never with a lover. And most certainly not with a lover like Logan. The fragrance of his subtly expensive cologne mingled with the riveting odor of their combined musk shot a wave of intoxicating sensations dancing across her thighs, then settled in her core.

  Grabbing one of the pillows from the head of the bed, she shoved it between her legs, hoping to quiet the untoward sensations threatening to undo her. Remembering the wild night that she’d had, it was hard enough to acknowledge that Logan had broken into her home. But after telling her how angry he was with her and how much she’d hurt him, he’d essentially accosted her—taken her in ways she hadn’t known were possible. All of which should have infuriated her at his overbearing arrogance. And it did, at least until she admitted that he had reason to be angry with her. And until he set about teaching her what it meant to be his woman. He’d followed up on his arrogant claim that she was his in ways that even now had her body fighting to come back to earth. The memory of him taking her against the wall and then over and over again in this bed confirmed that Logan didn’t make empty threats or empty promises. If ever a man made good on his threats and promises to her, it was Logan, the man she admitted had taken over her life.

  At that moment, she heard the low rumble of voices coming from the kitchen. The shivering sensations streaking between her legs confirmed that the deeper of the voices was Logan’s. Assuming that Ben was with him, Gia forced herself to get out of bed. While she would wait until she had him alone, she fully intended to take on Ben, who had more than betrayed her. Good God, Ben had even told Logan what those smarmy, upscale women had said about her. Their ugly aspersions were hurtful enough without Logan knowing what they’d said. But what had infuriated Logan wasn’t what they’d said but that she’d believed their disparagements, particularly how Savannah had characterized their relationship. Wrapping a silky robe around her, she headed for the kitchen, determined to take charge of her life. It only took striding through the doorway to know how far from reality that misbegotten assumption was.

  Logan leapt to his feet when he saw her. He managed to stifle a laugh at her shocked start. After all, while she knew that he was here, the two men sitting at her kitchen table with him enjoying a cup of his bracing coffee had to be a surprise. Clint Drobny, a six-foot-four, two hundred and fifty pound Czech was daunting enough, but he didn’t compare to his partner. While not as tall nor as heavy as the Czech, Jamal Toure, the dark-skinned, Michael B. Jordan–look-alike was clearly not someone to mess with. His twisted smile telegraphed a dangerous streak as compelling as his bulky colleague’s, both of whom had risen when Logan did.

  Logan grinned at his guests as he strode toward Gia. Capturing her with one strong arm, he reeled her in next to him. As accustomed as his associates were to beautiful women—Logan had shared plenty of them with one or both men—neither could hide their surprise when they saw Gia. As gorgeous as she was, no matter what the occasion, Logan admitted that if ever he’d seen a sex-on-wheels woman, it was his disheveled lover. Clearly not expecting guests, she’d grabbed a robe and now clasped it defensively around her—as if it were possible to hide her lush, curvy body. Her always-tousled cloud of midnight dark curls was even messier than usual. In addition, her sleep-heavy emerald eyes and flushed cheeks confirmed that she’d just awakened from what was likely a rampant night of loving.

  Holding her tight against him, Logan breathed in her intoxicating fragrance. God, she smelled good. But then, she always did. And that was before he’d spent the night invading her most secretive places replete with their heady scents. Meeting Clint and Jamal’s appreciative stares, he waved them back to the table with a grin. “Gentlemen, I don’t believe you’ve met Gia Tremaine. Last night, among other things, Gia pulled off an astonishing political victory. She won the Democratic primary election for the Second Congressional District by the biggest margin ever posted. A win that gives her a better-than-even chance to win the general election come November.” His grin widened as he tugged her closer to him and said to the gaping men, “Oh, and she also happens to be the woman I’m madly in love with.” He tipped up her chin, pinched her cheek, and murmured, “Isn’t that right, princess?”

  Seeing the flood of scarlet staining her cheeks, he took pity on her and led her over to the table where he pulled out a chair for her. Settling her onto it, he motioned for Clint and Jamal to take their seats. Continuing to play host, he walked over to the cupboard and retrieved a good-sized mug. Grabbing the coffee pot, he strode back to the table and placed the mug in front of Gia, then filled it with the aromatic brew. Holding up the pot, he said to the men regarding him silently, “Either of you need a warm up?” At both of their nods, he refilled their mugs, topped off his own, and sank onto the chair next to Gia. Pressing his knee against hers, he let his fingers play across her thigh, gratified when her rosy flush deepened.

  Reaching under the table for her hand, he said casually, “Gia, I’d like to introduce two longtime colleagues of mine.” Nodding to each of them as he introduced them, he said, “This He-Man-looking guy who looks as if he could take on the World MMA heavyweight champ Daniel Cormier without breathing hard—and by the way, he can—is Clint Drobny. And this guy, who we dubbed Hollywood Handsome, is Jamal Toure. But don’t let his good looks fool you. Jamal would slice his brother into bite-sized pieces if the guy ever made a move on me or any other member of our squad. We knew each other when we were young and brash and thought that America could make a difference in the Middle East. We chased hajis for a decade or so and learned what it meant to have a guy’s back—and for him to have yours.”

  Seeing her surprise, Logan explained. “Not that we need trained killers to protect us in this campaign, but I decided a little muscle wouldn’t hurt. Clint and Jamal have been serving as adjunct staff to the DPD. At my request, they’ve agreed to join the campaign.”

  Gia managed to overcome
her embarrassment at her near-nakedness. Knowing that the two men staring at her had to be aware that she’d earned her disheveled appearance at the hands of their striking cohort, she assumed the cheeky attitude she was known for. Glancing from one to the other of the impressive men, she mimicked Logan’s nonchalance. “I’m pleased to meet you both. While I never thought we would need ‘muscle’ in this campaign, I’ll admit that the media can be overwhelming. God knows waving a weapon or two might keep those hot little anchor-chicks from running us over, especially when they spot the likes of you two.” She tossed her head and met their appreciative grins with one of her own. “And unlike Gertrude Engle, whose team would likely have preferred to shoot her as to protect her, Gus Underwood is a different kind of an animal. Logan may be right. Gus has won this district five terms in a row. He’s not likely to concede gracefully to a newcomer—particularly a woman.” She added with a grin, “Most especially this woman. Without a doubt, Gus Underwood will do everything he can, legal or not, to beat me.” She pressed her lips together and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s interesting. In all the campaigns my father ran, he never hired bodyguards. But then, he and his buddies carried since they were in middle school. In addition, given that they’d paid off the police and the rest of the law enforcement structure was in their pocket, I guess they assumed muscle wasn’t necessary.”

  Logan smiled at her abrasive assertions and winked at his colleagues. “What Gia doesn’t admit is that when the Maxwell campaign was blowing up in her face, more than a little muscle was required to keep her safe. Fortunately, remnants of her father’s regime were in full force.” He met Gia’s frown. “I’ve already introduced Clint and Jamal to Granger, who was quite willing to have some of my men backing up his.”

  Logan led an easy conversation, laying out the key itineraries for the next several days, then rose to his feet, signifying that the meeting was over. Clint and Jamal followed suit, then both men turned to her. Clint spoke first. “Please know, Ms. Tremaine, that we will not be an overbearing presence. But I agree with Logan, preventive security measures are useful, even if it’s unlikely they will be needed.”

  Jamal concurred. “Clint and Logan are both correct, Ms. Tremaine. You are already a major attraction, and as the campaign continues, you will be even more of a public figure. It will be an honor to help Logan ensure that you are safe.”

  Gia nodded, then leaned into Logan’s strong presence and said with a smile, “Thank you both. But please. In that you’ve now seen me in my nightgown, can we dispense with the formalities? Besides, no one except Logan’s snooty friends calls me Ms. Tremaine. My name is Gia.”

  Both men laughed and nodded to her as they followed Logan out into the hallway. Gia listened to their sotto voce conversation, imagining what they were likely saying about her. But even though she was embarrassed that they’d seen her half-naked, she was glad that Logan had brought them on board. While she’d made fun of his penchant for safeguards, she admitted that politics was a blood sport, and at the level they were now playing, it was likely to get bloodier. When Logan came back into the kitchen, she met his quizzical smile with one of her own, then pressed her lips together and said with a shrug, “Not that I would ever dismiss those two guys, each of whom ranks at least a hundred on a ten-point ‘hottie’ scale, but do you want to tell me who they really are?”

  “I’m not sure I understand, Gia. As I said, I think it is wise in any campaign to have decent security. Clint and Jamal are professionals. And they are discreet. You don’t have to worry about them infringing on your privacy.”

  “Such as seeing me almost naked, clearly having come from your bed? That kind of privacy? Tell me, does that qualify as infringing or just the perks of the job?”

  Logan laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. You did meet them a little more up close and personal than I’d intended.”

  Gia pressed her lips together, then studying him for a long moment, she shrugged. “So I did, but now, Logan, once more. Will you please tell me who those extremely professional men actually are and why you brought them into the campaign?”

  He quirked a surprised brow, then said carefully, “I thought I made that clear, Gia. I hired them as a security precaution. To protect you.”

  Gia narrowed her gaze, then pressed him. “To protect me, Logan, or you?”

  Logan blew out an audible breath, then conceded with an insouciant shrug, “Both.”

  Chapter 19

  Seeing Gia’s determined frown, Logan conceded she wasn’t going to let him off easy. His challenge was how to answer her questions convincingly without betraying his mission. Or, he admitted, without revealing that an impartial observer might conclude that he was betraying her . . . at least her trust in him. To say the situation was dicey was an understatement. But then, twelve years as a clandestine agent working so far off the grid it was essentially nonexistent had schooled him well. It wasn’t lost on him that what he was doing—for the most honorable of reasons—could come back to bite them both squarely on the ass. He wished he could blame the mission leaders who’d determined that he and he alone could infiltrate the criminally corrupt network. He conceded that his technical skills and former undercover operations made him the definitive choice to lead the mission—regardless of how it might blow up Gia’s campaign if it ever became public.

  “As I indicated, Clint, Jamal, and I go way back. When it was clear that you were going to run for office, and knowing that we would need good security, I reached out to them.”

  She met his gaze. “That part is obvious, understandable. I agree. Of course we will need security. In the past, I always relied on Granger and the guys that my father surreptitiously put in place, whether I wanted him to or not, to make sure that I was safe. That’s a given.” She put up her hand, stopping him from answering. “Please, Logan, I lived my entire life with a man who could truly talk the green off a leaf. Lying was second nature to my father. It was the essence of him. Which, among other qualities, some admirable and some not, has given me a sixth sense as to whether someone is telling me the truth. And for what it’s worth, at the very least, you are ‘shading’ the truth as to who those two chick-magnets are. Understand, I lust after beefcake like all silly women do, but I insist on knowing who and what they are.”

  Logan grinned. “C’mon, Gia. Give me a break. Can’t you just accept that I’m a bit of a security freak? Remember, technology is my business and privacy is the essence of my company’s mission. Which, I admit, makes me a suspicious son of a bitch. Oh and by the way, you are a lot of things, some good, and some bad, very bad. But don’t worry, I plan to beat the bad ones out of you. That said, you are the least ‘silly’ woman I know.”

  “Thanks, I guess. But I’m not going to let you put me off. Do Clint and Jamal have anything to do with what took you ‘offline’ for three days?”

  Impressed by her insight, Logan decided to level with her as much as he could, which, he admitted, was precious little. “In that I was dealing with the kind of issues that I used to work on with them, yes. And yes, because of that history, I knew they would be a good fit with our campaign.”

  Gia thought about Logan’s predilection for security measures that she’d never seen before, such as the retinal scanners guarding his sky-high condominium and his one-car garage that could only be opened by similar scanners. And that he always wore an ankle holster armed with a snazzy Walther. Which didn’t exactly square with his expensive apparel befitting a tech magnet. Added to the fact that she didn’t have a clue as to what technology was at the heart of his business, Gia acknowledged there was precious little that she did know about Logan’s past and apparently about his present. She was surprised when she blurted out a seeming non sequitur. “Is that how you managed to break into my house even after I changed the locks?”

  Logan laughed. “Is what how I managed to break into your house, other than that your locks were chicken shit? Damn, sweetheart, a rookie meter-maid or a somewhat determined burglar co
uld have made it through those locks blindfolded.”

  Refusing to let him put her off, Gia persisted. “Please, Logan. Don’t demean me. The locksmith specifically told me that those were high-end locks that would keep out the savviest intruder.”

  “Ah, don’t you see? That’s the problem. I’m not a savvy intruder. I’m a man who will not let the woman he loves shut him out. Particularly when he needs to teach her an important lesson . . . or three.” Seeing her agitated flush and knowing he’d obfuscated as much as he could without making her more suspicious that she already was, Logan reached for her hand. “Relax, princess. Yes, I’m a security nerd. I spent over a decade in the bowels of the Delta Force, which is the Army’s elite counter-terrorism force. What I learned there, combined with my lifelong interest in technology, has made me security conscious. Likely to a fault. Which is something you are just going to have to deal with. As I’ve said before, old habits die hard.”

  Gia stared at him. She shouldn’t have been surprised at what he said. She admitted that she didn’t know much about the military. Heck, she’d barely heard of the Delta Force. The fact that he had been in the Special Forces made a lot of things more understandable. Not only his high-tech security but also his arrogance and, yes, his dominance. But his acknowledgment underscored what had been bothering her practically since she’d met him. That was that she’d bared her soul and most of her life to him in a way she never had to anyone before. In contrast, she was just now discovering that Logan had been an undercover agent, heck, a spook, for a good part of his adult life. She surprised herself when she asked, “Is that what you were doing when you went ‘offline’?”