Silently making my way toward the light, a smile slowly spreads across my face when I get my first up-close glimpse of her. She's even more stunning in person, even with all the shit caked on her face. You can't hide true beauty, and she has it.
She hasn't noticed me, so I scuff my hundred-dollar shoes across the dirty wood floor as I step around the wall and right up behind her. The room is small, with only a love seat, barstool, makeshift countertop, and a mirror hanging crooked on the wall. Enough room for two if I wanted to give her space.
I don't.
I want to be as close to her as possible, and I do my best to convey that with my eyes.
Startling her, her hands fly up and land on my chest. If she's trying to push me away, she's failing. There's a look of surprise on her face, but it's mixed with desire. She likes what she feels, and she should. I work really hard to stay in shape despite my busy schedule. My pecs aren't the only thing she'd like either.
I'd love to show her the rest, but right now my objective is to draw her in. Ripping that dress off her and taking her on that tiny countertop isn't going to get her in my bed tonight. In fact, she may resist my advances if I come on too strong.
There's not an ounce of recognition in her eyes. If she knows who I am, she's not letting on. With all the press coverage lately, that's a good thing. I'd hate for her to have the wrong impression of me.
Our moment is interrupted by the sound of her phone. When she goes to reach for it, I make my move, taking her hand in mine and bringing it to my lips. I want to suck her fingers in my mouth and taste her, but instead, I kiss her palm and resist my urges.
They're strong.
Stronger than I've ever felt.
"Hello," I finally say, slicing through the mounting tension in the room as I lace her fingers with mine.
They're so fucking soft. God damn. I can only imagine how great they would feel wrapped around my dick.
"Um..." Her voice trails off.
Good. I'm affecting her as much as she's affecting me. It makes me wonder if she's becoming as sexually frustrated as I am at the moment.
Sucking in a deep breath in hopes of smelling her need, I'm pleasantly surprised to smell fresh lavender mixed with sex radiating off her body. Her desire is strong. She wants me, and if I have my way, she'll have me.
I let things linger for a few more seconds before releasing her and stepping back. If I stay here any longer, I'm going to strip her and take her, make her scream with pleasure. All things I plan to do but not here. She deserves better than backstage at a bar. Better than a cheap couch or a dirty countertop. She deserves satin sheets and my full attention. A night of me worshiping her body.
All of which she will have. All she has to do is say yes.
"Good luck tonight," I say, tossing her a wink to see how she reacts.
Just as expected, she sucks in a tiny breath and continues to stare at me.
Mission accomplished.
I won't be leaving here alone tonight. Not a chance. I'll make sure of it. As soon as she's done on stage, I'll find her and take her back to the hotel with me. She won't resist my advances, I guarantee it.
As I slip back into the hallway, I hear fuck-face talking to someone around the corner, asking about Garcia, so I slide across the hall and into the bathroom. Garcia's there, leaning against the paper towel dispenser, on his phone. He looks up when I enter, and I motion for him to follow me.
"Ah," Hanks says when he catches sight of us exiting the bathroom. "I see you found him before I did."
"I didn't realize I was lost," Garcia quips, feigning confusion. He's being condescending, but this guy is too dense to realize.
"Apparently you're not. Now, gentlemen, I need to check on our first performer. Stick around. She's a beauty to look at, and her voice is amazing. You won't want to miss the show."
The grin on his face tells me all I need to know. He's claiming her. He's fucking her. Well, that shit’s about to end. I fucking guarantee it.
Sliding into character, I smile and nod. "Sounds like we need to stick around."
As soon as the stage door closes behind him, Garcia calls me out.
"What the fuck was that about?"
"Don't worry about it. We'll be out of here and back at the hotel in less than an hour."
"Are we going to be able to use the front entrance?"
"Not tonight."
Too many prying eyes to walk through the front. I'll have to sneak in through the back security door if I want to keep my dirty little secret.
"I'll start making arrangements."
A simple statement and Garcia proves his loyalty to me once again. It's the reason I keep him around. He doesn't question my judgment or my extracurricular activities. What he does do is make sure I keep them under wraps. This election is going to be a tough one, and the last thing I need is another scandal. The last one almost kept me from running.
If it hadn't been for Garcia's quick thinking, I wouldn't be in the position I am right now. I wouldn't have been at the debate tonight, and I wouldn't be here right now.
Hanging up his phone, Garcia takes the seat across from me in the booth. With the nod of his head, I know it's done. Arrangements have been made.
"Mendez called," he says simply, reaching for his water, the ice cubes clinking against the glass.
"We can deal with him in the morning."
"He's not a patient man, you know that. He's expecting us at midnight."
"You don't need to remind me of my obligations. Let him know something has come up. Lie and tell him the press is watching. Do whatever you need to do to postpone until morning."
If I hadn't known Garcia for years, I wouldn't have been able to spot the slight shift in his demeanor. Usually nothing rattles him. There's something he's not telling me, and whatever it is makes him nervous.
"What?" I bark.
"It needs to happen tonight." His voice is flat, but the look in his eyes tells me there's more to the story than he can say right now.
"Fine. You take care of it when we get back to the hotel. I'll be otherwise occupied."
He doesn't need me to explain. After three years of working together, he can practically read my thoughts. Sometimes that works in my favor. Other times it makes me question why I keep him around. Then I remember all the dirt he has on me.
The lights above us dim, and the spotlight kicks on as fuck-nut takes the stage, microphone in hand. The murmurs in the room die down when he taps the mic to get everyone's attention, an irritating smile on his face.
What an attention whore.
"Good evening. Thank you all for coming. We have a special show for you tonight. Three amazing performers that will blow you away. It's my pleasure to introduce our first performer. She hails from the outskirts of Houston and has been singing most of her life. Please help me welcome Amelia Anderson to the stage."
The room erupts in cheers as she takes the stage.
Amelia.
“Amelia,” I whisper to myself. Her name flows off my tongue. So sweet. So innocent. So fucking sexy.
The light above her accentuates her figure. I'm sure I'm not the only one who notices. My dick is rock hard and ready to bust through my zipper. If I thought I wanted her before, the sight of her under the lights has only compounded my need. I want to rip her dress from her body and find out what each curve feels like as I run my tongue along them.
"Thank you all so much. I'm going to be singing a song I wrote called ‘The Storm.’ I hope you enjoy it."
So much confidence in her voice. If she's nervous, you can't tell.
As the lights dim slightly, I notice two men take the stage behind her. One picks up a guitar while the other takes a seat at the piano. They begin to play, and then her voice fills the room.
Filled with raw emotion and angst, I reach for my dick and rub against it gently. I'm going to blow in my pants, I already know it. I watch as the song takes over, her body swaying in tune with the rhythm. Slow, sensual. I'
m about to come when the lights go out. A loud cracking sound echoes through the room, and people start to scream.
My eyes search for her in the blackness, but they haven't adjusted to the sudden change.
"Find her," I say to Garcia, determination in my voice. I don't need to tell him who he needs to find. I'm sure he's pieced it together by now.
People are rushing toward the exit as I make my way to the stage, pushing people aside. I need to get to her before she disappears on me. I can't let that happen. Not yet. I haven't staked my claim on her. If I don't find her, she'll be back in that douchebag’s bed before morning.
"Boss," I hear Garcia call from ahead of me.
Moving toward him, I find him holding an irritated Amelia by the arm. She's attempting to wiggle out of his grasp, shouting obscenities at him, until she sees me. My girl has a dirty mouth.
Our eyes connect, and the commotion around us disappears. Garcia releases her arm, but she doesn't make a move. When I extend my hand toward her, she breaks eye contact and stares at it for a second.
"Let's get out of here," I say, my words urging her to take my hand.
The moment she slips her hand in mine and I feel the softness of her skin, my dick comes back to life. This woman is going to be the death of me if I don't have her soon.
"The car's out back," Garcia states, stepping in front of us to lead the way.
Pulling her in close, I blindly follow Garcia through the maze of people all trying to get out of the bar.
Three
Amelia
What the fuck just happened?
One minute I was in my element, lost in the music. The next the amp is blowing behind me and the lights go out. I hear people freaking out, yelling, and rushing toward the exit. You'd think they were all afraid of the dark or some shit.
My next thoughts go to Joseph. Where the hell is he?
He was next to the stage when I started my set. There was a slut at the bar in a hot-pink dress trying to get his attention. Not that I care. She can have him, but right now I need him. I need to get the fuck out of here. I’m not afraid of the dark, but there’s an uneasy feeling crawling up my spine and the urge to run is compounded by the fact that I can’t see.
That's when I feel someone grab my arm. I turn, expecting it to be him, but instead, I come face to face with a man I've never met before. There's a look of determination in his eye as I begin to struggle.
"Get your fucking hands off of me!" I scream, but his grip only tightens.
"Boss," I hear him holler over the crowd.
What the fuck? Is he holding me hostage for Joseph? I swear to God, if that's what's happening here, I will fucking kill him. I thought he told all the bouncers not to touch me.
That's when I see him.
My mystery man.
My body instantly relaxes, and then it's released. He says something to me, but I can't hear him over all the panic in the room. He extends his hand to me, and I stare at it. What does he want from me? Is he trying to rescue me? I mean, normally I'm not that girl. I can take care of myself. Right now, though, I'll take any help I can get.
"The car's out back," I hear the other man say as I slide my hand into the mystery man’s.
He's pulling me through the crowd, and then we're outside. Warm rainwater assaults me for a few seconds until I'm ushered into a car.
No, a limo.
I'm in a fucking limo.
Who the hell is this man, and why does he ride around in a limo?
He climbs in behind me, and then the door closes, darkness slowly encompassing us.
I feel the seat shift as the car begins to move and then a hand on my cheek.
"Amelia," he whispers.
I can't help but turn to where I assume he's sitting next to me. A street light illuminates his face for a second, and then it's dark again. I see all I need to, though. His need. Desire. The same things I saw when he was in the dressing room only amplified.
I'm sure the same is mirrored in my eyes. Just like before. When he kissed my palm. I can feel it building in me again.
Moving quickly, I slide one leg over him, my dress sliding up easily and exposing my ass. I take a seat facing him, straddling him. When I press my body against his, I almost come undone. He growls in my ear, places a hand on either side of my face, and pulls me to him.
This kiss is not gentle. It's greedy. Filled with lust.
When I grind against him again, causing myself to moan into his mouth, he releases my face. His hands move quickly, tugging at the zipper of my dress. When it gets stuck halfway down my back, he takes one side of my dress in each hand and pulls, ripping my dress the rest of the way off as he presses up against me.
"I'm sorry," he says, sounding less than apologetic, as he pulls my dress away from my body and greedily takes my breast in his mouth.
I'm about to reply when he bites down on my nipple, causing me to scream with pleasure.
Oh my god!
I'm almost there already, and he still has all his clothes on. Mine, however, are hanging off my body. My chest is bared before him. My soaked panties are pressed against the bulge in his slacks. I'm panting heavily as I start rocking against him.
Releasing my breast, his head lulls back, resting against the seat as we pass under another street light. His eyes are closed, his mouth slightly open. I notice him cringe before the darkness encompasses us again.
"I'm sorry," I say as I attempt to slide away from him. He pulls me back and lifts his hips, hitting my center causing us to moan in unison.
"I want you, Amelia. I want to take you right here, before we get back to the hotel, but I won't."
His voice is strained as he presses against me again.
"You deserve better than the back seat of a limo. You deserve to be worshiped, and that's exactly what I plan to give you. A night you'll never forget. If you'll let me."
The car comes to a stop before I can reply. He quickly pulls my dress up to cover me and then slips out of his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders.
The door opens, but I don't move.
This is my chance to change my mind. If that's what I want to do. I don't. I want him. If I can sleep with Joseph to further my career, I can let this man fuck me for pleasure.
I realize what this makes me. I'll live with the shame of being a slut for a night in exchange for what I can guarantee will be the greatest orgasm of my life.
Plus, if I go home now, I won't be able to finish. My vibrator is dead, and I'll only be able to bring myself so far after feeling him against me. I want all of him. Inside me. For the rest of the night.
Nothing else will be good enough.
Climbing off him, I slide my arms into his jacket, wrap my arms around myself to make sure my dress doesn't fall off, and step out of the car. His friend is there to greet me, a blank look on his face. If he knew what we were doing in the back seat, he's not letting on.
He steps out behind me and places his hand at the small of my back. We follow Mr. Serious through a door marked ‘private.’ Bright lights assault my eyes as we step into a stark white hallway. There's a woman in a pantsuit waiting for us, a smile on her face.
"The cargo elevator is waiting for you. You need to take it to the second floor, get off and then take the guest elevators the rest of the way. Mark is holding the elevator for you on the second floor. The hallways are empty right now so you should be clear, Senator."
Senator?
Holy shit!
This isn't a normal hit-it-and-quit-it situation. I'm playing in the big leagues right now. I should probably leave. I don't want to get caught up in some stupid scandal. I don't want my face plastered all over the news. I'd die from embarrassment if my parents didn't kill me first.
Not to mention... What if he's married?
I'm not the cheating type. I don't want to be the other woman. The one that causes a marriage to fall apart.
I may be a lot of things, but that's one thing I'm not.
A
s soon as we step in the cargo elevator, I turn to say something when the other man steps in with us. He's everywhere. He must be the bodyguard. I don't want to say anything in front of him, so I'm going to have to wait until we're alone.
If that ever happens.
I can't imagine he'll come into the hotel room with us. Will he?
From one elevator to another. Another man with a serious look on his face. He doesn't join us for the next leg of our trip, but we're still not alone.
As the elevator slowly rises, the senator's hand descends down my back, under my dress, and between my legs. I shift, allowing him better access. Pushing my thong out of the way, he slides one finger across my dampness, causing me to bite down on my lip to keep from moaning. Back and forth he continues to rub as we pass floor after floor. I begin to pant as I rock against his hand, craving the release I know is only moments away. I can feel my eyes wanting to roll back in my head when a ding startles me.
The doors open, and he removes his finger quickly, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean as his bodyguard steps off the elevator.
That may very well be the sexiest thing I've ever seen in my life. The sight of me on his finger as he slid it in his mouth. The heat in his eyes as he tasted me.
"All clear, boss."
"Thank you, Garcia. I'll see you in the morning. You can brief me over breakfast."
Taking my hand in his, the senator leads me down the hall, then stops in front of a set of double doors. Producing a key card from his pocket, he waves it in front of the lock and opens the door, ushering me through.
Three steps inside and I stop.
We're in the penthouse. I shouldn't be surprised considering who I'm with, but the elegance of the room catches me off guard.
The view out the wall of glass is what really catches my attention. There's not a single light on in the place, yet it's bright in here. The lights of downtown Houston are shining through the windows, illuminating the room. There's a sitting area in front of us. A simple white couch with beige throw pillows accompanied by two beige chairs. A fully stocked bar and kitchenette are to my right. On my left is another set of double doors.
Caught in the Storm Page 2
