Where There's Smoke

by L. A. Witt

  “Not enough.”

  “I’ll take what I can get.”

  He growled—groaned, maybe—against my neck, and used a shiver as an excuse to pull me closer. “You don’t even know how tempting it is.”

  “I do.” I reached back and ran my fingers through his hair, closing my eyes as he kissed beneath my ear. “I know exactly how tempting it is.”

  “We shouldn’t…” He trailed off and kissed my neck again as his fingers laced between mine across my stomach.

  “We always shouldn’t do this,” I breathed, startling at the sound of my own voice. “But I want you to fuck me. Please, Anthony.”

  “Rest assured,” he murmured between gentle kisses and warm breaths across my skin. “I have every intention of fucking you again, but not until we have the time and privacy to do it right.”

  I shivered. “You make it sound so easy to not do anything now.”

  “Easy? Oh, I promise you, it’s anything but easy. I want…” His voice fell to a growl, and he pressed his lips to the side of my neck.

  “We’re alone in a hotel room.” I closed my eyes and licked my lips. “I have condoms with me.”

  “Do you, now?” He dragged his lips along the side of my neck, working his way up to my jaw, and another shiver pressed his body against mine.

  “Yes. I do.”

  He raised his head, and I opened my eyes, meeting his in the mirror. Anthony swallowed. “We can’t do this now, but…my God, it’s so…so…”

  I turned around in his arms, facing him instead of his reflection. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply.

  “I thought—” He kissed me hard, gripping the back of my neck. “I thought waiting to fuck you the first time was bad.”

  I barely kept myself from grabbing handfuls of his shirt and wrinkling the hell out of it. “I think it’s going to get worse every time. The more I get, the more I want.”

  “Mm-hmm. It’s all I can think about,” he breathed. “I’m supposed to be concentrating on your campaign…and…you don’t…you don’t know what you’re doing to me, Jesse.” He kissed me again, and the whispered echo of my name melted me from the inside out.

  But then he broke the kiss and pushed himself back. He gripped my shoulders, forbidding me from coming closer, or maybe forbidding himself from crossing that narrow, tempting distance. “Shit, Jesse. We can’t…we really can’t do this now. There just isn’t time.”

  I licked my lips. He was right, but when he was like this—shaking, inarticulate—nothing else mattered. Not even my campaign. I looked at my watch, then at him. “We have time. Not much, but please. I can’t…I can’t wait.”

  Anthony said nothing. He drew me into a kiss that screamed neither can I, and my knees shook as he slid his hand over the front of my pants. I pressed my cock against his palm, groaning into his kiss as he squeezed me just right.

  When he broke the kiss this time, he was out of breath. “Condoms. Get them.” He released me, and while I grabbed my suitcase to search for the carefully hidden necessities, he brushed past me and strode toward the door.

  I found the condoms and lube. Anthony turned the deadbolt with a quiet click.

  From across the room, our eyes met.

  Locked in. Everything we needed in hand. Just enough time.

  And all at once, we were in motion. Buttons, belts, zippers; there wasn’t time for games or foreplay. We both knew what we wanted, and we wasted no time getting out of our clothes. One day foreplay wouldn’t be a rare luxury, but right now? Who knew how much time we had?

  Anthony tore the condom wrapper with his teeth. The tremor in his hands made me shake; I loved it when he unraveled like this. When he dropped that perfect, ever-present control in favor of letting himself fall to pieces. I needed him in control for the debate, but in bed?

  Oh, God, fall apart with me.

  As he rolled on the condom, I slipped off my ring and set it on the bedside table so I didn’t cover it in lube. I gave the gold band a glance, cringing at the pang of guilt in my gut, but then reminded myself for the hundredth time that I wasn’t breaking any rules, and turned to pick up the bottle. My hands shook more than they had the first time we did this, more than his did now. It wasn’t nerves this time, though. Far from it.

  I poured lube in my hand, and as I stroked it over the condom, Anthony kissed me. Oh, there was no turning back now. No deciding this was a bad idea (which it was) or that we shouldn’t risk being late (which we shouldn’t) or raising eyebrows (which we would) because Anthony’s kiss was just too damned breathless and demanding. The more I stroked his cock—and it wasn’t just to apply lube now—the more furiously he kissed me and the tighter he held on to me.

  Nerves dissipated in favor of excitement and…calm. Inexplicable calm in light of how much he turned me on. Like the mere knowledge we were going through with this satisfied enough of my hunger to keep me from losing my mind.

  Anthony grabbed my wrist, halting my hand in midstroke. In a low growl, he said, “Get on your knees.”

  I obeyed without a second’s hesitation.

  Behind me the lube bottle clicked. I looked over my shoulder. “Didn’t I put enough on?”

  “Of course.” He grinned as he poured some onto his fingers. “Just didn’t put any on my hand.”

  “On your—” I stopped when I realized what he meant. A second later, his cool, slick fingertips met my entrance. “Damn it, I want—”

  “I know you do.” He circled gently with his fingers. “I’ll get there.”

  “We don’t have much time.”

  “We have enough.”

  “Just fuck me,” I said through my teeth.

  “Oh, I will.” His fingertip teased more earnestly, pressing in slightly, backing off, pressing in again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I screwed my eyes shut and just breathed. This was a necessary step, of course, but an aggravating one. Okay, an incredibly erotic and arousing one, but still aggravating because I needed Anthony’s cock buried inside me. We hadn’t done this enough—yet—for me to take him easily without a lot of preparation, so he teased me with one finger. Then two. Sliding in, sliding out, stroking and stretching me until I was ready to break down in tears, begging him to just fuck me already.

  He withdrew his fingers, and I dug my teeth into my lower lip. The lube bottle clicked again, so he must have been putting more on his cock, which meant…

  Oh, God, yes…

  Please, please, Anthony, please…

  His hand materialized on my hip. His cock pressed against me, and as he pushed into me, he whispered, “Oh, God, Jesse…”

  I whimpered and let my head fall forward. I willed myself to relax so I could take him easily, but anticipation had me so wound up I could barely breathe. Closing my eyes, I convinced myself to draw a slow, deep breath. As I released that breath, Anthony pressed harder, and the head of his cock slid past the tight ring of muscle. In an instant, my entire body relaxed. Almost liquefied.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Ooh yeah,” I whispered, wondering when I’d run out of breath.

  He eased himself into me—giving an inch and pulling back, giving another inch and pulling back—and with every careful stroke, I anticipated that intense instant when he’d hit that spot deep inside. We’d only fucked a few times, and already I was addicted to that sensation. Craved it. Waited for it. Silently begged for it.

  His cock slid across that spot, and my elbows almost buckled beneath me. Electricity radiated up my spine and out to my fingertips, my toes, my scalp. Any place that could have goose bumps did, and every stroke electrified all those nerve endings again…and again…and again. He picked up speed, going from slow and gentle to forcing himself into me. Pleasure and pain mingled until they amplified each other, until they were indistinguishable from each other. Everything was intense—so goddamned intense—and I rocked back against him, trying to drive him deeper, desperate for more even when I was sure I couldn’t handle a
ny more.

  “Like that?” he asked, almost panting.

  I nodded.

  “Answer me, Jesse,” he growled and slammed into me hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs. “You like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you?” He thrust faster, gripping my hips tighter, almost painfully tight, and fucking me harder. “Do you like that, Jesse?”

  Somehow, Lord knew how, I choked out: “Yes.”

  My fingers curled around the comforter, clutching the fabric like it might keep me in the here and now while Anthony’s cock threatened to send me into oblivion.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered.

  I put my weight on my left arm and lifted my other hand off the bed. For a moment, I hesitated, making sure I could balance like this. Reasonably convinced I wouldn’t fall on my face, I wrapped my fingers around my cock, and…fuck…that first stroke.

  I groaned, especially as my hips moved of their own accord, intensifying every motion of my hand and Anthony’s cock. The maddening ache deepened. The need for release intensified. My entire world condensed itself into this building tension, the contradictory need to let go and hold on as long as I could.

  “Don’t you dare come yet,” he growled and thrust into me even harder. “Do you hear me, Jesse? Don’t you dare.”

  “I won’t.” I dug my fingers into the mattress. “I…oh, God…”

  I’d never been to this edge and lingered there, never forced myself to ride this brink, and I held my breath and gripped the bedsheets, and I stroked my cock and ground my teeth. Every thrust he took inside me drove me closer to that inevitable breaking point, to that moment when an act of God couldn’t keep me from surrendering to the orgasm Anthony’s body demanded and his voice forbade.

  “Anthony…you…please.” The words shook just like my arms. I screwed my eyes shut, squeezing out hot tears. “Fuck…”

  “Oh God,” Anthony groaned. His fingers twitched on my hips. “Oh my God, Jesse, this—” His voice caught.

  Tears slid down my cheeks, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t beg him for release, for an orgasm like the one that must have been closing in on him too, and—

  “Come, Jesse. Now.”

  The instant he said my name, slick, hot semen shot across my palm and my hand moved faster over the lubricated skin and I couldn’t stop, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take any more, couldn’t fucking stop…

  Anthony released a strangled cry, and his rhythm fell apart as he fucked me and came and tried to keep fucking me and finally slumped over me, panting and shaking.

  He kissed the back of my neck. “Fuck, I needed that.”

  “Me too.” I turned my head until I could see him in my peripheral vision. Grinning, I said, “Think you can do this to relax me before every appearance?”

  Anthony laughed and craned his neck to kiss me. “Only the ones that count.”

  “I thought they all counted.”

  “Hmm.” He kissed my cheek. “So they do.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Anthony

  I took a shower first. We didn’t dare shower together or we’d never get out of this room, and we didn’t have much time.

  In spite of the ticking clock, though, after I came out of the bathroom and Jesse started to go in to grab a shower of his own, I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “Still nervous?”

  “I’ll be nervous until the thing’s over. You know that.” He smiled. “But I’m definitely more relaxed now.”

  “Good.” I grinned, then leaned in and kissed him lightly. As I drew back, I said, “Just answer the questions honestly and succinctly. Focus on the issues, just like we’ve discussed. You wiped the floor with the Dems; you can handle Casey.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “You’ll do fine.” I cupped his face in both hands and kissed him again. The heady scent of sweat and sex teased my nostrils. Damn it, if tonight wasn’t so important, I’d have put him over the side of the bed and started all over again.

  When we pulled apart this time, Jesse smirked. “You always give your candidates pep talks when you’re only wearing a towel?”

  I glanced down and chuckled. “I don’t make a habit of it, no.” I kissed him once more, then stepped back. “And we’re really short on time now, so we’d better get moving. You grab a shower, and I’m going to go downstairs and see if I need to knock any heads together.”

  And get a cigarette. I need a cigarette stat.

  While Jesse showered, I dressed and got myself ready. I even made use of the hotel blow-dryer. Vanity wasn’t high on my list of priorities, but even slightly damp hair had the potential to be incriminating.

  Once I was put together with absolutely nothing to give away the fact that Jesse and I had just had sex, I headed out of the room. Obsessively worried about covering every possible base and hiding all the evidence, I took the condom with me, wrapped in a tissue, and discreetly discarded it in a trash can by the elevator. No such thing as too many precautions as far as I was concerned.

  As the elevator doors closed, separating me from the incriminating evidence and any chance of Jesse stepping out and seeing or hearing me, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Even a much-needed orgasm and a long-awaited kiss couldn’t unwind the knots in my gut, not when Jesse was about to face Casey like this. He had so much riding on this debate. So much could go wrong. Many voters had made up their minds, but a debate could sway the undecided and the undecided could sway the election.

  He can do this. He’s prepared. He’ll nail it.

  I took another breath. I didn’t even realize I’d reached for my cigarettes until they were in my hand, and now that they were, I could think of nothing but having a smoke.

  Apparently I wasn’t the only one, because a designated area had been roped off for staff members from both sides to smoke out behind the hotel across the street from the debate venue. Security guards stood around the perimeter, and a sparse crowd of both Jesse’s staff and Casey’s loitered with cigarettes and coffee cups.

  I pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Time and again I’d tried to persuade myself to quit, but as I drew in a long drag and that drag settled the nerves prickling along the length of my spine, I couldn’t imagine getting through a campaign without my beloved nicotine crutch. Especially this campaign.

  “Anthony.” Simone’s voice turned my head. As she approached, her bodyguard towering over her, she added, “Good to see you.”

  “Likewise,” I said. “Dean, good to see you too.”

  He gave a slight nod and shook my hand.

  To Simone, I said, “How have you been?”

  “Good, good. How is Jesse?” She paused, her cheeks coloring slightly, and she quickly gestured at the building. “I mean, is he nervous?”

  “As always.” I turned my head so I wouldn’t blow smoke in her face. “He’ll be all right, though.”

  “He always is. How do you think he’ll do?”

  I tapped my cigarette, watching a couple of glowing coals swirl down to the pavement. “If anyone can beat Casey, it’s Jesse.”

  She cocked her head. “If anyone can, yes, but that doesn’t answer my question about how you think he’ll actually do against Casey.”

  “I have complete confidence in him,” I said and pulled in another lungful of smoke.

  She smirked. “So is everyone in politics allergic to giving straight answers?”

  I laughed. “No, I just refuse to sound like an optimist.”

  “Heaven forbid.” She brushed a few strands of hair off her face, and as I blew out the smoke, I watched her from the corner of my eye. Jesus, Jesse was right: she had lost an alarming amount of weight. The harsh streetlights above us emphasized how much her cheeks had hollowed, turning her trademark high cheekbones into the hallmarks of borderline skeletal thinness. Her hair looked a little thinner, and her shirt couldn’t quite hide the exaggerated protrusion of her collarbones.

 
; Guilt twisted my gut into even tighter knots. She’d given Jesse her blessing to see other people, just as she had his to do the same, but I couldn’t imagine this was easy for her. Putting on the face of a happy wife, knowing he was sleeping with someone else, facing that someone else like there wasn’t a thing wrong with all this.

  “How about you?” I asked. “You holding up?”

  “What?” She gave a quiet laugh and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  I raised my eyebrow.

  “I’m fine, Anthony.” Simone tried to back up her comment with a smile, and my heart sank a little deeper. She was an Oscar-winning actress but still couldn’t make that smile look real. Her slender eyebrows climbed slowly, her eyes reflecting the unmistakable you’re-onto-me panic, and she shifted her gaze toward her bodyguard. Then, looking at me again, she cleared her throat. “Well. Anyway. I just wanted to see how Jesse is doing.” Before I could reply, she glanced at Dean and gestured toward the building. “Shall we?”

  He nodded.

  She looked at me and smiled. “I guess we’ll see you after the debate?”

  Tapping my cigarette over the pavement, I forced a smile. “Of course.”

  With one last fake smile, Simone turned to go. Dean walked just behind her and to her left, and as they stepped through the door, he put his hand on the small of her back.

  I paused, cigarette partway to my mouth, and stared at the door as it swung shut. Over and over, I replayed the image in my mind. He was her bodyguard and it wasn’t like he’d grabbed her ass, but I couldn’t decide if that had been a platonic touch, maybe a protective gesture, or something else.

  Shaking my head, I looked at the ground and took another drag. Every campaign had its drama, but this was turning into one convoluted circus of affairs, even if Jesse and Simone had each other’s blessings to fuck me or Dean or whoever else was on the roster. It was obviously stressing both of them out. Jesse was a guilty mess, and Simone had to be nearing a breaking point.

  For that matter, they were under too much media scrutiny to take chances. They had to be careful.

  And I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have been risking my career or Jesse’s campaign. My hips and lower back shouldn’t have ached from fucking him, and that dull tingle of satisfaction shouldn’t have lingered below my belt. If I had a brain in my goddamned head, I’d wait until this debate was over, then tell Jesse we had to stop this.