“We’ll say we’re going outside to talk about campaign things.”
“Are we going outside to talk about campaign things?”
Will laughed. “Of course not.” He leaned into me, close enough that the scent of his cologne teased my nostrils. His voice turned husky. “We’re going to talk about how good you look in that dress and how much I can’t wait to get it off of you. How I can’t wait to see what you’re wearing underneath.”
Holy shit.
His expression was perfectly calm, his voice low as he spoke to me. There was no one around to hear him, his words safe between us. It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do to keep from reacting.
We were playing with each other, flirting with each other, vying for the upper hand. Most of the time I felt in control with him, most of the time I could look into his eyes and see how much he wanted me, and it was enough to make all of the bullshit disappear. But right now I couldn’t read the want in his eyes, only the lust in his voice.
I didn’t know what we were doing anymore. It was supposed to be fun and casual, and yet I craved him in a way I’d never craved anyone before.
“Come home with me.”
I blinked. “You can’t leave, you just got here.”
“I’ve been here an hour.”
“The whole point of you coming here was to mingle. No one leaves after an hour.”
“Watch me.” He leaned in closer. “You know you’re only making it worse the more you fight it. If you don’t want to make a scene, come with me.”
“No. You’ll make a scene if you leave this early.”
“I’m more worried that I’ll make a scene if I stay. I want you. I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”
“You can’t say things like that in public,” I hissed.
His lips quirked. “You’re going to manage me again, aren’t you?”
“You’re staying for two more hours.”
“Thirty minutes.”
“An hour and I’ll let you know what I’m wearing underneath my dress.”
For a moment his jaw dropped before it snapped back into place. His green eyes gleamed. “You drive a hard bargain. Fine. An hour.”
I grinned, leaning into him. “Absolutely nothing.”
I walked away, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the knowledge that he was definitely watching me walk away.
Chapter Eleven
More than one individual was on hand to see some very steamy action at the St. Regis last night. There were fireworks throughout the gala, and one couple looked particularly explosive . . .
—Capital Confessions blog
Will
Thirty more minutes. Okay, twenty-nine more minutes. This was definitely the slowest hour of my life.
I let Mitch lead me around the room, introducing me to people. I shook hands, dodged phone numbers, solicited contributions, and laughed at really bad jokes. The whole time I watched Jackie. She stayed within my line of sight, working the room, and I couldn’t help but think it was deliberate. Either she was trying to make sure I held up my end of the bargain or she was screwing with my head. The end result was the same—I was fighting a hard-on and she consumed my thoughts.
She was a natural. She drifted from group to group, greeting people she knew, talking for a minute or so, and then moving on. I definitely wasn’t the only one watching. Men noticed her, their gazes roaming over her body—old men, young men, waiters, congressmen—it didn’t matter. She held everyone’s attention. Maybe more so because she didn’t even seem to care.
Despite the looks, she didn’t react. When an elderly senator touched her arm, she easily moved out of his grasp, a charming smile on her face. She was polite and funny, but there wasn’t a hint of flirtation in her. I’d never seen her flirt with anyone but me.
We were quickly going into uncharted territory. There was something about this girl. She’d gotten under my skin so quickly in a way no one ever had before. I was still trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why everything inside me screamed, this one.
I wasn’t the kind of guy who spent his life wondering what he wanted. I was pretty much, “I see. I want. I get.” I didn’t change my mind or second-guess my decisions. Maybe I wasn’t impulsive, maybe I was more deliberate, but whatever it was, the choices I made always stuck and never fell into the category of regrets. My gut had never steered me wrong. Which was why I didn’t freak out last night when I came to the only conclusion that made any sense—
I wanted her.
Jackie
He kept watching me. It was sexy, and unnerving, and so distracting that I could barely think, let alone make intelligent conversation.
We had ten minutes left.
I was nervous about tonight, which was, of course, totally dumb considering everything that had already happened between us. And yet I was still nervous. I wasn’t a virgin, far from it, but Will was different. Everything about him was different. Maybe it was the age difference, or the money, or my own insecurities. Either way, he scared me a bit. I didn’t feel like I was running the show with him, like I held all of the cards. I felt like I was struggling to keep up. What if that was how it would feel when we went to bed?
“How’s work at the Clayton campaign going?”
I pushed the thought of Will inside me out of my mind and took a sip of my champagne, struggling to focus on the question. I smiled at James Morgan. “It’s going well, thanks.”
“How’s Mitch Anders?”
Honestly? I kind of loved him. He was surly, and difficult, and spent more time yelling than praising. He always looked rumpled, like he’d been sleeping in his office—and given the hours he kept, he probably had been—and there was always a telltale sign of spilled coffee on his clothes. He was far from the polished, glossy environment I’d come to know at Price, but I loved him for it.
“I’m learning a lot working for him.” That was the biggest understatement ever. The guy was a genius.
Morgan nodded. “Good. He’s not trying to steal you away, is he?”
The inference that I could be stolen away from Price was enough to send my little job-hunting heart aflutter.
“Not at all. I’m very happy with my opportunity at Price.”
“Good. I’ve heard good things about your work on Will’s campaign.”
Oh my god. The fact that anyone was talking about me to James Morgan was amazing. “Thank you.”
“I know you had a little bit of trouble with the database, but besides that, we’ve been really impressed with what we’ve seen from you so far.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I answered, wishing I never had to hear the word “database” again.
His gaze drifted to a point over my shoulder. “And here’s the candidate himself.”
I turned to see Will standing behind us, and my heartbeat kicked up a notch. Seriously, no one should look that good in a tuxedo.
Will came up next to me, his hand at my elbow. “Excuse us for a second, James, but I need to have a word with Jackie about campaign stuff. I have to head out soon. I have that engagement later on.”
I nodded calmly like his engagement wasn’t fucking me. Somehow I smiled at Morgan. “Excuse me.”
I walked away, Will trailing behind me, his hand drifting down to the small of my back. To the onlooker it was a perfectly casual touch as he guided me through the crowd. But I recognized it for what it was, could feel it in the way his skin pressed against mine. He was marking me, and strangely enough, I liked it.
“That guy’s an asshole,” Will muttered.
Surprise filled me. “I thought you were friends.”
“We were in the same final club at Harvard. We were definitely not friends.” He stroked my back lightly. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
I stopped mid-step. “Are you jealous?” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. I’d never had a guy actually be jealous over me.
“Of James Morgan?” Will laughed. “Trust me, I’m n
ot worried about you being interested in someone like that. But I still don’t like the way he looks at you. Be careful with him. He’s not the kind of guy you want to get stuck working late with at the office.” A flush covered his cheeks as if he’d realized what he’d just said.
I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel guilty about something that was as much my choice as it was his.
“Don’t. It’s completely different.”
“Is it?”
He asked the question like my answer really mattered, and for the first time it hit me, really hit me, that there was something to liking a nice guy. I’d never liked jerks, never been the kind of girl who wanted some guy to screw with her head or tell her what to do, but I’d also never liked guys who were all that considerate, at least compared to Will. Maybe on the surface they’d been nice guys, relatively honest and free of emotional fuckwittage, and yet they weren’t like him. They didn’t really care, not like he did.
I stopped walking, my sudden movement seeming to catch Will off guard. He stopped short, his arm brushing against my body. I stared up at him, his broad shoulders blocking out the room around us.
I lowered my voice. “Just so we’re clear, I’m here because I want to be. No other reason.”
“Good, because I’m not planning on letting you go.”
The promise in his words rocked me, throwing me off balance once again. He was like a puzzle I was trying to solve, and every time I came close to the end, the pieces changed.
“Jacqueline!”
I froze at the sound of that voice, all thoughts of Will momentarily abandoned.
Shit.
This was the other reason I hated black-tie events.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, turning away from him to face her.
She didn’t walk toward us; instead, she did some combination of a sashay and a glide, as if she knew all eyes were on her. Maybe they were. Even at forty-five, she turned heads. Lots of heads.
It was one of life’s little ironies, that for as different as our personalities were, I looked like a carbon copy of my mother. On the surface, at least. There was an energy about her, something that made her dazzling that I lacked, but I had her height, and her hair, and her skin tone. The rest was my father.
She leaned into me, exchanging air kisses and enveloping me in a cloud of Givenchy. She pulled back, and I caught sight of a member of the Senate Armed Services Committee standing next to her. Of course.
“You look beautiful, darling.” She frowned slightly. “Although you could have worn some jewelry. I would have lent you some if I’d known you were going to be here.”
I stifled a groan. “It’s not a social event. I’m here for work.”
“Of course you are.” She shot me a knowing look, and I wondered just how much she knew about this Capital Confessions business. “And who is this with you?” She flashed a blinding smile at Will, and I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
What would he think of my mother? Did he even realize who she was? That she was infamous? And dear god, was she flirting with him?
I made the introductions, horror filling me with each word that came out of my mouth. I emphasized the word “candidate,” hoping she wouldn’t make more of this, especially in public. Discretion wasn’t anywhere in her vocabulary.
Will smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Her eyes lit up. “So polite.” Her gaze darted between us. “And how long have you two been working together?” Her voice emphasized the word “together,” and my eyes narrowed.
“You know, Will’s running late. He has a meeting later, and I was just briefing him on the campaign. We should get going.” I leaned forward, giving her one of her stupid air kisses. “It was great to see you.”
Will followed my lead, his charming campaign smile firmly in place. I all but ran out of the room, leaving my mother and her date behind us, Will at my side.
“You okay?” Will murmured, leaning down, his head inches from mine.
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” I squeaked.
“You seem a little freaked.”
Then I was doing a great job of covering, because I was definitely more than a little freaked.
“We aren’t close. And believe me, she’s the last person I want getting wind of anything happening between us.”
I didn’t know how to explain the rest. I loved my mother, but her life choices were such a disaster, and I hated the scandal she’d become, the trouble she caused everywhere she went.
I waited for him to say something, to comment on how similar we looked, or how beautiful my mother was. But he didn’t say anything. He just walked beside me, his presence quiet and reassuring.
Will
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu as we drove to my town house. Jackie sat next to me, silent, staring out the window. I’d ordered a car service tonight, wanting the comfort and the privacy.
She’d been quiet ever since we ran into her mother. There was something there, something she definitely didn’t want to talk about. And even more, she seemed nervous. It was strange to see her like this, strange to think that I might somehow be the cause of it. I reached out, linking fingers with her. I squeezed her hand.
She turned to face me and a hesitant smile slid onto her lips. “Feels familiar doesn’t it?”
I laughed. “I was way more nervous last time.”
“And now?” Her voice was soft, her usual confidence missing. Something in her tone made me bold.
“Now that I’ve had a taste, I want more.” She flushed, a pretty pink spreading across her cheeks. “I’ve thought about you all day. I went home last night and all I could do was see you spread out on my desk. I wanted you in my bed. Wanted to fall asleep beside you, wanted to wake up next to you in the morning. I even wanted to make you eggs. I make mean eggs.” I grinned. “You can add that to your little notebook with all of my secrets.”
A look of pure panic spread across her face instead of the laughter I’d intended. “I have to get up early tomorrow,” she sputtered. “And I didn’t bring clothes or a toothbrush. I figured I’d just get a cab home after.”
I was momentarily thrown, and then my lips twitched as awareness dawned. “You’re one of those, aren’t you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “One of those what?”
“You don’t stay the night.”
She looked perturbed, and then she shrugged. “I like my space when I sleep. I don’t want some guy stealing the covers or smothering me. Or snoring.”
I laughed at the horror in her voice. “I don’t snore. Or smother, although I have been known to cuddle, but only on very special occasions. And all bets are off on the cover stealing, but somehow I have a feeling you’ll be able to hold your own.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“I am.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know—”
“You’ve never done it before, have you?”
“Done what?”
“Slept with someone.”
Irritation filled her voice. “I thought we already had the virgin talk.”
“No, not sex. Sleeping. Curled up against each other, waking up in the morning and trying to hide your morning breath.”
She made a face. “That sounds terrible.”
“Hey, I’m an amazing cuddler. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Maybe you’ll be lucky and get to experience it yourself tonight.”
She stared at me, her mouth open in surprise as if I’d just shaken her foundations. “Who are you?”
“What do you mean?” I couldn’t keep the amusement from my voice. It was cute to see how flustered she got. She was the kind of girl who knew she could bring a man to his knees and I couldn’t resist the urge to keep her on her toes. I’d never realized how much I’d like the challenge of a girl who made you work for it.
“Guys don’t talk like that. And I’m pretty sure guys don’t cuddle.”
I rolled my
eyes. “That’s bullshit. I’m sorry, would it make me more masculine if I pushed you out of bed after we had sex? If I made some stupid excuse about having to work the next day and needing to get up early? Or if I said I liked my space when I sleep? That’s not called being a man, that’s called being an asshole.
“If a woman’s in my bed, it’s because I want her there. I’m not a child who gets bored with his toys after five minutes. If the guys you’ve been with treat you like that, then you’ve been screwing around with boys. Wouldn’t you rather fuck a man?”
Jackie
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. Nothing.
Nice guys were supposed to be easy, safe. There was nothing safe about this conversation or this night. He scared the shit out of me.
“I’m not good at this.”
I didn’t mean to say it, the words just slipped out. That he had me admitting my weakness made it even worse.
“Why?”
“You terrify me.”
“Good.”
I gaped at him. His easy, charming, campaign facade was completely gone. Something dark and dangerous lurked in its place.
“I’m glad I scare you. I bet it’s easy for you. You just smile and guys fall at your feet because you’re so beautiful they can’t help it. And then you open your mouth and you say something witty ’cause you’re so fucking smart and you dazzle them, tie them up in knots until they can’t think straight.
“Maybe some of them actually want casual. Maybe they’re fine with the scraps you toss their way. But maybe some of them want more. And you just want easy.
“I want you to be scared. I want things to be messy, and complicated, and difficult. I want you to feel, and I want you to know I’m the one making you feel, that I’m the one making it mean something.”
Heat filled his gaze as the words poured from his mouth.
I didn’t have a snappy answer or a comeback. All I had was a pounding heart, and the sense that I was in so far over my head it wasn’t even funny. So I did the only thing I could think of. I kissed him. Because kisses at least were easy, it was everything else that made me feel like I couldn’t measure up.
Flirting With Scandal Page 9
