Passion, Power, and Privilege (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Cara Addison

  Chapter 12

  Thursday afternoon, John Jenkins called Kate at the office. “Jake was able to find out some information, Kate. Would you be available to meet with us to go over it?”

  “Brad and I are available this afternoon. What time are you thinking?”

  “Can you come by the office after work?”

  Kate thought about it. “You know, John, why don’t you come by the house? It would be more discreet.”

  “Good idea, Kate. What’s the address?” She gave him the street name and house number. “While we’re at it Kate, can I bring a photographer along, and snap an engagement photo? We can do a quick interview and get that ready for the Saturday paper.”

  “Sounds great, John. Does six o’clock work?”

  “We’ll see you then.”

  Just past the hour, the doorbell rang. Bradley walked to the door, welcoming the media into his home, as Kate emerged and walked down the stairs. She was wearing a pale-pink dress with a square neckline. The pleated skirt fell to her knees, complimenting both her tan and her figure. The photographer from the paper snapped photos of each of them, capturing casual images of their lives together. John Jenkins introduced his staff. The photographer snapped photos, clearly in awe of the décor. Brad guided them on a brief tour of the main floor, before settling in the sitting room. “What did you find, Jake?”

  John gave him the nod to proceed. “It’s been interesting. I found out that the package was hand-delivered to the St. Regis in New York. Someone had to know that both of you would be staying there.” Kate’s mind raced, making a mental list of those who knew she was in New York.

  He continued, “We can tell that the images are reproduced from a digital image. They aren’t photocopies. In fact, they are very high resolution. They couldn’t have been taken from far away.”

  Brad interjected. “How far?”

  “I’d doubt they were taken from more than five hundred meters away.”

  Brad mulled that over. “Wouldn’t another ship have to sound a horn if it was within five hundred meters of the yacht?”

  “It’s possible, but audible communication can be waived by radio when both boats are in agreement.” He paused. “Most importantly, we found that the bank account doesn’t exist.”

  “What?” they asked together.

  “We tried to transfer a nominal amount to the account. It didn’t work. I researched it, and the number isn’t even a valid account. The prefix indicates that it’s a Cayman bank, but according to officials, those numbers haven’t been assigned to an account.”

  Kate thought about that. “Is it a typo in the letter?”

  “Have either of you been contacted since?”

  Neither of them had. “That’s a big gamble,” she thought out loud. “Picking a random number could have resulted in a deposit to a stranger’s account. Someone knew that this account wasn’t active. No?”

  “That’s a definite possibility,” Jake confirmed, sitting back on the sofa. “Unfortunately, this all leaves me at a dead end. I’d be curious if the owner of the yacht is aware of any other incidents like this. If there have been, it makes me wonder if a member of the crew is somehow involved.”

  “I’ll talk to Richard,” Brad offered.

  John interjected. “Unless you have further contact, I’d suggest that this is more of a prank than a threat.”

  “Does this mean I can have the photos back?” Brad asked with a subtle smile.

  Jake tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh as he handed the envelope over to Brad. “Enjoy.” He excused himself, as John proceeded with the interview for the weekend edition of the paper.

  “Care to tell me how you met?” John asked, pulling out a notepad as the photographer snapped more photos of them sitting relaxed on the sofa.

  “September 20,” she responded, recalling the night of the campaign fundraiser.

  “Actually,” Brad interjected, “I heard you speak at an event more than two weeks earlier. We didn’t meet that day, but I knew that we needed to.”

  “I didn’t know that,” she said, turning to look at him.

  “I insisted that Nigel invite me to the fundraiser. Once I met you, I knew…” He didn’t finish his sentence. He turned back to John. “And that night I made the first political contribution of my life.” He kissed her hair. “Best investment I’ve ever made.”

  John asked a dozen more questions before he folded up his notepad. “Thanks Kate. Brad. I think we have a good news story for people to read. I get a little tired of always delivering shock and awe.”

  The photographer requested they pose for a few more photos in the living room, kitchen, and foyer, before the journalists excused themselves.

  Brad returned to the living room, and flipped through the photos. He paused at the image with his hand between her legs. He found her in the office. He pulled her away from the desk and took her to bed, making love to her.

  * * * *

  It was Friday night before she had time to unpack her new purchases into his closet. He leaned against the doorway, surveying the mess. Boxes and bags littered the floor. He playfully kicked a stack of tissue paper across the floor. “Looks a little like Tornado Alley.”

  She carefully removed the tags from a cocktail gown, before hanging it on the full-length rack. “There’s a method to the madness,” she assured him.

  He tentatively entered the room, stepping over a box from Prada. He scanned the row of shoes that had recently been added to the shelves, running his finger over the collection before picking up a black strappy sandal. “Nice,” he purred.

  “Au Hameau,” she responded, identifying the delicate Louboutin he held in his hand.

  “I’m going to have to insist that you wear these in”—he paused—“before I let you wear them out in public,” he murmured, running his finger up the red sole and down the inside of the heel. He placed the shoe back with its mate before walking out of the room. She watched him leave, aroused by his suggestion.

  She finished hanging the remaining outfits, before gathering the paper, boxes, and bags for recycling. She washed up, and returned to the closet, slipping out of her work clothes, and into the Au Hameau sandals and a sheer black kimono. It was a beautiful June evening. She found him outside, reading by the pool, enjoying a cigar and scotch. “What are you reading?” she asked, standing between the French doors.

  “Fortune Magaz—” The words stuck in his throat as he looked up at her. He dropped the magazine on the table. “Holy…” he whispered, unable to find the appropriate expletive to express his thoughts. He slowly drew on the cigar, taking in the sight. “Come here.” He motioned her over with the cigar.

  She looked around the terrace. “I was given strict instructions.” She smiled sexily. “I’m not allowed to wear these out,” she responded, pointing to her shoes, “until I wear them in.” She beckoned him inside. He stood, placing the cigar in the tray, draining his glass before meeting her in the doorway.

  The heels exaggerated her height, bringing them eye-to-eye. He held her gaze as he ran his finger down the thin seam of her collar. She studied his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to you.” He paused, weighing his options. “And where I’m going to do it.”

  She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Preferred choice?” she whispered, tilting her head.

  “I’d like to bend you over that sofa in the corner.” He motioned with his head, his eyes not leaving hers. “But…” He paused. “Did you clean up the closet?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  A grin slowly spread across his face. “Mirrors,” he whispered as he slowly kissed her.

  He led her through the house, up the stairs, and directly to the expansive closet. He pulled her to the center of the room, scanning the various reflections. He pulled off his clothes, standing naked behind her. No matter where she looked, she could see a different view of them. He slipped the robe off her, lettin
g it flutter to the floor. “You’re exquisite,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder. He ran his hands down her neck, across her shoulders, and down her arms. He shifted his hands to her hips before massaging his way up her back.

  “Are you wet?”

  She knew she was, but wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. “You tell me,” she whispered, placing the arch of one shoe against the edge of the bench in front of her. Her balance was exceptional. He groaned, biting her shoulder. They watched his hand descend down her stomach. She drew in a sharp breath, watching as his fingers traveled between her legs to her pussy. She held her breath, biting her lip as his fingers swirled.

  “Still like that sound?” he asked.

  “Very much.” She leaned her head against his.

  Leaving his hand on her pussy, he gently pressed her shoulder, bending her forward. Her foot dropped to the floor as she placed her hands on the cushioned bench in front of her. His hand slid down her back, tracing the ninety-degree angle of her hips. “Christ, Kate,” he moaned.

  He placed his hand on her back, and slid his throbbing cock into her. “God, your tits are…” He bit his tongue. She glanced in the mirror, her breasts gently swaying as he thrust, her nipples hard and pointing to the floor. She watched his expression, knowing he was very much enjoying himself. His rhythm increased, his finger swirling against her pussy to match. She gasped.

  He delicately squeezed her clit between two fingers and tugged. She screamed as a full-body shudder made its way through her body. When she caught her breath, she looked him in the mirror and warned, “Don’t do that again.”

  He did it again. She swore as she stamped her foot, narrowly missing his toes with her heel as another excruciating shudder consumed her. Her body began to glisten with sweat. He ran his hand down her spine. Knowing she was exhausted, he placed one hand on each hip, thrusting his cock with urgency.

  She saw him close his eyes, his face contorting in a mix of pain and pleasure before he released a load of cum. When he slipped from her, he placed his hand on the small of her back. “You should have a butterfly tattoo, right here,” he tapped her skin.

  She smiled as she rose, turning to face him. She was about to slip off her shoes. “Leave those on,” he whispered. She raised an eyebrow.

  “I need a shower.”

  “Not yet,” he whispered as he led her to the bedroom. He crawled onto the bed as she walked to the bathroom, toweling off before wrapping herself in the bath sheet. She returned to the bedroom, slumping into the chaise lounge. “I’ve just decided.” He smiled. “You’re going to need a shoe allowance.”

  “Careful what you wish for,” she cautioned with a laugh. “You might want to wait until I get fully moved into that closet before you make plans to add to the collection.”

  “Did you put your house on the market yet?”

  She exhaled, glancing down at the ring on her finger. “I didn’t get around to it. I’ll call a realtor on Monday.”

  “You’re still okay with that plan?”

  “Absolutely.” She smiled. “I’ve always handled my own real estate transactions, but I’m too busy and too tired to deal with it myself.”

  They sat quietly before he added, “So I guess this means you’re moving in, doesn’t it?”

  “Does it?”

  “It does.”

  A smile crossed her face.

  “Not that I really care what the answer is, but how many women have you been with, that you know how a butterfly tattoo will look?” she asked and then hesitated. “Unless the number is higher than twenty. Then, I don’t want to know.”

  He scoffed. “It isn’t twenty. Including you…five.”

  She looked at him in disbelief. She expected the number to be much higher. She counted on her fingers, “Liz, Carolynn, me…and?”

  He exhaled. “I had a high school sweetheart who I dated through the first few years of college. Then,” he added uncomfortably, “I had an encounter when the boys were little. I was away on business, and met a woman. I don’t even remember her name.” He paused, recalling the event. “I called home the next morning, and Carolynn was in tears. A stomach bug had gone through the house, and she had been up all night cleaning up after the kids. The bug had just hit her, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to take care of the kids, let alone herself. I felt sick. Horrible.” He paused, shaking his head at his own memory. “I made a promise to myself to never…ever make that mistake again. And…I haven’t.”

  She watched the agony on his face as he recounted his lesson. “Oh, Brad. You didn’t,” she added, suddenly feeling sorry for a woman she had never met.

  “I did, and believe me, Kate, there is nothing you can say from across this room that will make me feel worse than I did that morning.”

  She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “So…the tattoo?” she asked, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. There was no answer. She slowly opened her eyes and stared at him. “How much porn have you watched?” she asked with a smile.

  “A little,” he answered bashfully. “Actually,” he admitted, “more than a little. I’ve been through a few droughts over the years, and it’s safe to say,” he looked down at his hand, “I’ve had to take matters into my own hands.”

  She laughed at his analogy. “I do not miss that,” he added.

  She smiled. “Well.” She closed her eyes again, and waved a hand over her exhausted body. “Clearly, it was time well spent.”

  She was drifting to sleep when she heard his voice. “Come here.”

  She opened her eyes and looked over at him. She could see from across the room that his cock was hardening. She was so very tired, but slowly walked to the bed.

  “You can sleep all day tomorrow,” he promised. “But right now…” He patted the mattress.

  She crawled toward him, the leather of the shoes sliding easily across the white sheets. He was on his knees, kissing her.

  He circled behind her, turning her to face the headboard. He spread his own knees apart and rested back on his heels. He pulled her knees apart, straddling his own. He ran his hands across the red sole of one shoe, placed on each side of his ankles. He rose to his knees, pushing his hard cock into her pussy. She gasped, leaning forward to grab the headboard.

  He thrust slowly at first, then increased intensity, leaning forward with the need to feel his skin against hers. His hands found her breasts. He teased and played, causing her breathing to grow shallow. “I want you to come,” he whispered in her ear.

  She did.

  When her breathing slowed, she pushed down against him, forcing him back on his heels. “Stay,” she whispered. She lifted and lowered, taking all of his long cock into her. Again she lifted. He thrust against her. She sat him back down on his heels. “I said, stay,” she admonished over her shoulder.

  She lifted and lowered again. This time, he sat leaning back onto his hands, savoring the view and the sensations. “Really,” he moaned, “a tattoo would look beautiful.”

  She was riding hard and steady, sliding from the tip of his cock, to the very base. “I want to come,” she whimpered, gripping the headboard with white knuckles.

  “Let go,” he urged.

  “I can’t,” she moaned, hovering on the edge of an orgasm.

  “Yes you can.”

  She moaned, arching her back as she came. He leaned forward, resuming control of the motion. He sunk his cock deep into her warm, wet pussy. Within minutes, he heard her gasp. “You’ve…found”—she struggled to fill her lungs with air—“the…spot.”

  “Damn, girl,” he gasped. “I can’t last much longer.”

  He thrust another minute before she insisted, “Come with me.” He grabbed her hips, pushing his cock as deep as he could before he could no longer control his movement. He heard her moan as his whole body shook and trembled as he emptied his cum into her pussy.

  Her body was slumped over her arms. He kissed her shoulders before pulling from her, a river of her fluid g
ushing from between her legs. “My god,” he whispered, collecting her juices in his hand.

  “I tried to tell you,” she panted. She leaned back against him. “I. Am. Spent.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “You’re incredible,” he whispered. He helped her up, and together they pulled the sheets from the bed. She retrieved a fresh set from the linen closet, making the bed before standing under a hot shower. They were asleep within minutes of crawling into bed.

  Chapter 13

  Kate woke the next morning, shocked when she glanced at the clock to see that it was already eleven o’clock. By habit, she reached for her phone to read her electronic communications before her feet hit the floor.

  “What the?” she whispered, scrolling through more than three hundred new e-mails.

  “What is it?” he whispered, his eyes still closed.

  “I’ve got 325 new e-mails, make that 326,” she corrected as a new message popped into her inbox, “and there are twenty-six missed calls.”

  He sat up and reached for his own phone. “Me, too.”

  She clicked on a message on the list, and then another. A smile crossed her face. “The newspaper.” She laughed. “They are all messages of best wishes.”

  He slipped out of bed, still scrolling through his messages. “I’ll go get the paper and start some coffee,” he offered, slipping on a robe.

  She checked her calendar before starting toward the shower. There was a community fundraiser that she wanted to attend in an hour. The annual BBQ Challenge was a very popular event in support of the charity Elisse worked for.

  She was about to step out of the shower when he returned. “You’re going to love this photo,” he said, admiringly. He had the paper spread across the bed, already having dissected it in the kitchen. She smiled when she saw the photo on the front page of the Lifestyle section. The headline read Kiss Me, Kate. The full-color close-up was strategically placed above the fold. It was one of the candid photos that had been snapped in the foyer as they toured the house. Her hand was placed on his arm as she stood beside him. They were both looking up at a piece of artwork in the stairwell that she remembered John had inquired about. The ring sparkled in the natural light.