Slowly her brain transferred the necessary commands to her arms and legs. Get up. Wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth. Focus on the telephone. Punch the little button that says talk. Then follow that directive.
She could do all of that. She stumbled to her feet and lunged for the phone. “’Lo?”
“Is this my favorite harem girl?” Jack’s voice boomed into her ear.
“I don’t think so.” Marly pushed her hair out of her eyes. “At least, I wasn’t aware of being part of a harem.”
“You’re not. Your apartment just reminds me of the Arabian Nights. You’re the only girl I want in my harem.”
“Oh,” she said, still half-unconscious and unable to think of a witty comeback.
“Did I wake you? You wild party animal, you.”
Marly frowned. “How did you get this number?”
“You gave it to me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He sighed. “Yeah, and frankly that hurts my feelings. You gave it to Mike! But anyway…I needed to get in touch with you and so I turned to the file.”
“I believe that’s cheating. It’s also invasion of privacy and pretty obnoxious. Sir.”
“Waking up cheerful, are we?”
“I’m serious, Jack.” She yawned.
“Were you dreaming about me? Naked dreams, perhaps?”
“No.” He’d never know she was lying through her teeth.
“Because I’ve been dreaming about you.”
“Gosh, I hope that I’ve fulfilled your every fantasy—in your mind, anyway.”
“Try to be nice, Marlena.”
She shuddered. “Look, I’ll be nice, but please don’t ever call me Marlena. My mother calls me that.”
“Sorry. So, I know that tomorrow is your day off and I was hoping—”
“Who told you that?”
“A little bird.”
“A little blond bird named Shirlie?”
“I don’t recall. Anyway, I was hoping that you’d allow me to send the Gulfstream for you, and you could join me up here in Tallahassee. How does that sound?”
“Jack—”
“I can promise you a really…explosive time. We could send the entire staff away and run naked all through the governor’s mansion.”
She laughed at the image.
“And we could baby-oil the banister and enjoy sliding down it.”
Now that sounded interesting.
“And in the morning, you could eat chocolate frosted donuts off my erect—”
“Whoa. What do you mean, in the morning? Are you actually suggesting that you send the guber-jet for me tonight? You ever heard of giving a girl a little notice, Jack?”
“But I miss you,” he said, like a little boy.
She decided to take a page out of Ms. Turlington’s book. “Well, I miss you, too, sir.”
“Don’t call me that. Turls calls me that.”
“But I wouldn’t ring you up in the middle of the night and suggest that you hop on the nearest flight to come satisfy my evil urges.”
“I’m a big fan of spontaneity,” Jack told her. “And I don’t get to be spontaneous very often.”
She sighed.
“Please come. If you come, you know you’ll come a lot. We can spend the whole night together. I’m even the kind of guy who snuggles. I’m a dream come true.”
“And what happens in the morning? Miss Turlington barges in to give us a sponge bath? Frick and Frack do a Cossack dance while serving us coffee?”
Choking noises came from his end of the line. “God! You have quite the scary imagination. No, I promise that neither of those possibilities will occur.”
If any other man had suggested that she fly to him in the middle of the night, she’d have told him in graphic detail what to do with his Gulfstream.
“Please come,” Jack said again.
But this was the governor. And just talking to him was making her uncomfortably horny. The head of state wanted her to give him head in state. “When?” she finally asked.
“I can have a car at your apartment within an hour, and you’ll be in the air half an hour after that.”
“Okay.” Was she easy, or what?
Jack gave a very undignified whoop. “I love ya, honey. Don’t wear any underwear.” And he hung up.
Marly stared at the phone. Had he just said that?
He had. But of course he didn’t mean it.
Do you believe in love at first sight? he’d asked the day they’d met.
No. And neither do you. You are such a player, Jack Hammersmith. And you’re great at it.
She only wished she didn’t enjoy being played quite so much. She looked at the clock and figured she’d better get her butt into the shower, decide what to wear and pack.
THE GULFSTREAM was even nicer than the limo. The thing was decked out in shiny burled walnut, the way she’d seen on fancy yachts, and there was an actual sofa. The plane also sported its own monogrammed crystal, a bar, a sleep cabin with a bed and hardwood floors in the bathroom, which had an Italian glass bowl as a sink.
Marly just blinked at it all when Mike handed her into the thing and stowed her small duffel bag for her.
“How’s the scrapbooking going?” she asked him.
He actually blushed. “Great. I’m working on my son’s first year of preschool now.”
She gave him the thumbs-up signal and he introduced her to Alan, the pilot. Alan was quite the laugh riot—he told her he’d only smoked a little crack that evening, but she had nothing to worry about.
She strapped herself in on the leather sofa, declined a drink and tried not to think about all the statistics on small plane crashes. She opened a Vogue magazine and stared at all the impossibly skinny models wearing impossibly expensive clothes. She thought again about the statistics on small plane crashes. She changed her mind about that drink and was on the way to Martiniville before they ever left the ground.
In about thirty seconds, they’d landed in Tallahassee and Alan helped her down the stairs with her bag. A different limo driver, Frank, drove her to the governor’s mansion, where Jack skipped to the front door like a little kid to greet her. A very handsome, buff kid in suit trousers and a tie and shoes polished to such a shine that she could see her reflection in them.
“Welcome to the palace,” he said with one of his disarming grins. Then he kissed her, right in front of Frank, whom he told in the nicest possible way to get lost. A fifty-dollar bill encouraged Frank to do so. Jack then turned his attentions back to her.
If she’d had panties on, they’d have melted. But she’d followed orders. Marly broke away from his kiss at a horrifying thought, though. “Are there security cameras in this place?”
Jack looked uncomfortable. “One or two.”
“Out here?”
His sheepish expression answered her question.
“Then will you please take your hands off my ass?”
“Let me show you my personal quarters,” Jack said diplomatically.
“That sounds great. Because I’d really rather not end up on the Internet doing nude acrobatics for a world-wide audience, courtesy of your fine security staff.”
He shuddered. “I have to agree with you on that.” He took her hand and her duffel and led her upstairs to his apartments in the big house.
Jack’s taste ran to dark wood, Oriental rugs and rich fabrics. She looked around with delight, thinking that his preferences in interior design were a lot like hers—just more conservative and Republican—not to mention hideously expensive. But if he added floor pillows, candles and wall hangings and removed the lugubrious oil paintings of ducks…she could be quite at home here.
“You like it?” he asked.
“I do! And I didn’t expect to.”
“Why? You thought I’d have the place upholstered in gray flannel and pinstripes?”
She shook her head. “No, I thought it would look more like a hotel, with lots of gilded things and plastic fl
owers and stupid decorator objects.”
“Stupid decorator objects?”
“Yeah, like those dumb balls made of grapevines sitting in bowls. What are those for? And old hatboxes that sit around in piles collecting dust. And books that are just there for display—God forbid anyone should pick them up and read them.”
“And why would I have these objects in my personal space?”
“Because of your decorator.”
“Ah. But I don’t use one. I’ve had most of this stuff for a long time. And my mother ordered other things. She’s the one who kind of pulled the place together.”
He spoke of her with obvious affection, and Marly felt guilty that she didn’t feel the same way about her mother. But then again, Mrs. Hammersmith probably had never made her son feel like an unwelcome intruder into his parents’ relationship.
Marly turned and admired the high arched windows, the beautiful polished wood floors and the lush gardens she could see outside the window. “Do you have any pets?” she asked.
He joined her at the middle window and pointed toward a huge stone fountain. “Three koi. The biggest, fattest fish you’ve ever seen. One’s white with orange speckles. One’s solid coppery-orange. And one is this mustard-gold color with black splotches. They eat more than I do. I really expect them to do away with the gardener one day. They’ll leave nothing left of him but hair and toenails.”
“Ugh,” said Marly. Then she brightened. “Maybe they’d like Fuzzy, my parents’ cat.”
“Poor little guy. What’s he ever done to you?”
Marly put her hands on her hips. “You really want to know?” She told him about the portion of roast in the middle of her bed. “And when I went to take it away from him, he growled and snarled and hissed. You could see him trying to decide whether or not to lunge and bite me, or keep his fangs sunk into the meat so I couldn’t take it away. Finally I flipped the comforter up over him and dragged him and the meat into the kitchen inside it. You should have heard him yelling!”
Jack said, “I didn’t know cats could yell.”
“Fuzzy can. So I shouted for my mother and she took one look and acted like I’d tortured him! Her poor little flesh-eating baby…she let him keep the meat. Unbelievable. She just laundered the quilt next day and cleaned up the mess on the floor, since he dragged that roast out of the kitchen and into the dining room, where he ate it under the table.”
Jack was practically in convulsions. “You don’t appear to think that justice was served, Marly.”
“Go figure! My mother treats that cat better than she treats me. I’d throw him into a tank full of piranhas if I had the chance.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
She shrugged. “Okay, maybe not. But I sure do fantasize about it.”
“Want a drink?”
“No thanks. I had a martini on the flight and that’s enough.”
“Want to join me in the whirlpool tub?”
“Now, that I might consider.”
She followed him into a vast marble bathroom with a hexagonal tub. He shut the drain and turned gold taps on full-blast, while she admired the room. The gold had been done sparingly: just in the smaller fixtures. The towel bars were made of gleaming, rich wood, as was the architectural detailing and the double glass-paned door.
There were skylights in the ceiling and real plants grew in pots around the giant tub. There were several varieties of orchids, bromeliads and other flowering indoor plants she couldn’t identify. If paradise could be achieved in a bathroom, this was it.
Jack smiled at her. “You like?”
She nodded. “You could hold a formal dinner in here, it’s so big.”
He rubbed at his chin. “I’ll keep that in mind, honey. Though I find that the more naked people are, the more informal they get.” He loosened his tie and started to remove it.
“Leave that on,” suggested Marly with a wicked smile.
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “But take everything else off.”
“You’re giving orders very freely,” he said, his eyebrows raised. But he didn’t seem to mind, since he unbuttoned his shirt and obliged her.
Oh, that chest. The muscle in those shoulders and upper arms made her go weak.
“What about you?”
“You get to wonder if I followed your orders.”
He cocked his head. “Mine are practically law. I mean, I am the head of state here. I could have you punished if you didn’t adhere to my desires.” His eyes gleamed and his teeth flashed white.
“Punished?” She tried not to laugh.
“Oh, yeah.” Jack stood in front of her naked now, except for his signature royal-blue tie. Any other man would have looked utterly ridiculous. He looked as if he was about to do a photo shoot for Vanity Fair. I’m ready for my close-up now, Ms. Leibovitz.
“As I recall,” he teased, “you caught my Republican part in Democratic territory last time, and threw him in jail without food or water. So if you break the Law of Jack, I should at least be able to spank you. I’m starting to have a really good master-to-slave-girl fantasy, here.”
Outraged, she put her hands on her hips. “Master to—? You’ve got to be kidding me!”
He turned to shut off the taps before the tub overflowed, and she got a good visual of the Jack-Ass, smooth and muscular and beyond sexy. Oh, my…
He faced her again. “Are you talking back to the master, girl?” He stepped toward her, mock-menacing.
“Ye—uh, no!”
He grabbed her wrists and forced them—gently—behind her back, where he circled them easily with one hand. Because of the position, her breasts were thrust forward, which he didn’t seem to mind a bit. He flicked her nipples with the thumb of his other hand, and her breath hitched in her throat, starting to come hard and fast.
Jack studied her for a long moment through his lashes, as if he liked what he saw, a lot. Then he brought his lips down hard on hers. His kiss sent shock waves through her and she melted under his mouth, opening to him and letting him take what he wanted.
When he lifted his head, she couldn’t speak. Still holding her wrists captive, he traced his fingers over her lips, her jaw, down her neck and into her cleavage. She wished he would touch her breasts again, but he didn’t. Instead he dragged his index finger down to her belly button and then lower.
“Did you follow orders?” he asked softly.
She’d never played sex games like this, and the experience was intriguing. What would he do?
“Did you, Marly?”
“No,” she lied.
“Bad girl,” he said. He tightened his grip on her wrists, looking stern and mock-menacing. “You know what we do with naughty girls like you?”
She shook her head, and her heart rate kicked up.
“We take down their panties and we spank them.” He shot her a predatory grin.
Though the words and the concept were ridiculous, like something out of the fifties, they turned her on. She licked dry lips.
Jack stepped backward, hauling her with him, and sat on the edge of the big marble tub. Then, chuckling, he forced her over his knee and pulled up her skirt.
I am so not doing this, Marly thought in shame. This is laughable. But as her midriff came into contact with his erection and cool air met her bare buttocks, electricity shot through her and she forgot all about dignity.
“So you did follow orders,” Jack said, his tone pleased as he ran a hot palm over her bare rear end. But then he swatted her anyway.
Marly jerked her head up. “Hey!”
“You lied. There are consequences for that, too.” He continued to fondle her backside, but now his fingers crept inward, along the cleft and lower down to—
She gasped as he traced up and down her sex, parted her and rubbed softly. Her breasts were squashed erotically against one hard, muscular thigh, and she got so wet she practically liquefied. Her body started to tremble and Jack shoved her thighs apart, then began to play her mons
with his right hand like a musical instrument. Then, with his left, he began to touch and rub her nipples.
She felt helpless across his knees—literally like some slave girl. Whether it was the novelty of it, or the expertise of his fingers, or the faint suggestion of humiliation and powerlessness, Marly exploded into the most intense orgasm she’d ever had.
Jack lifted her and placed her gently on a rug there in the bathroom. She opened her eyes to find his blue ones boring into hers, that angel-devil blue on fire. He moved between her legs and she welcomed his hard, solid length into her body. The incongruous tie was still around his neck, and she grasped it and used it to pull his head down to hers. She kissed him like she’d kissed no other man before, thrusting with her tongue as he thrust into her. She let go the tie and clung to his shoulders, digging into all that gorgeous muscle and hanging on for dear life as his powerful body slid hers across the floor.
Unbelievable, but she felt herself building to climax again, and when he did that signature Jack circular motion with his hips, it triggered her into blissful oblivion at the same time he groaned out her name.
SINCE SHE FOUND IT impossible to move, Jack scooped her up again and got into the tub with her, settling them both down into the warm, silky water.
“You make one hell of a slave girl, kid,” he said into her ear as he pulled her back against his chest.
“Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?” She poked him.
“Why? It’s just a fantasy. For all you know, I have dominatrix fantasies and want to be humiliated by an Amazon in a black rubber suit.”
“Do you?”
“Well, no,” he admitted. “I’d have her on her back in no time and get real creative with her whip.”
She laughed. “So the black rubber thing doesn’t bother you. The outfit has a few peek-a-boo holes, too, I bet.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Well, master, we’ll have to see what we can arrange.” Marly turned her head and waggled her eyebrows at him.
“Oh, maaaan. See, I knew you were The One.”
She froze. “Jack, you don’t have to continue with that. I mean, you’ve already got me in your bed, or tub or whatever. You can quit with the BS.”
Midnight Madness Page 11
