Flirting With Scandal

by Chanel Cleeton

  I looped my arms around his neck, pulling his body against mine, needing to feel like I’d gotten some of my power back. With a few words he’d stripped me bare. He was right, of course, right about all of it. He just didn’t know the rest.

  “You’re trying to change the subject,” he murmured against my mouth, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip. Thank god for the privacy window between the driver and us.

  “I don’t feel like talking anymore.”

  “You’re staying the night.”

  I glared at the challenge in his eyes. “We’ll see.”

  I brushed my mouth against his again, my tongue darting out and licking his bottom lip. I could already feel how hard he was against my hip. But he didn’t kiss me back.

  “Either you stay the night or I take you home now.” His voice was firm. “I’m not going to be some guy you use to get off and then leave. I’m not going to let you turn us into that. If we’re going to have sex, then you’re going to be there through the night when I wake up wanting you, and you’re going to be there in the morning. Those are the terms. Take it or leave it.”

  The car came to a stop. “We’re here.” He held out a hand to me, a dare in his voice and a promise in his gaze.

  “Coming?”

  Chapter Twelve

  We’re beginning to wonder if there isn’t a scandal playing out under our very noses.

  —Capital Confessions blog

  Will

  I’d definitely pissed her off.

  She walked into the town house with me, silent, anger coming off of her in waves. Maybe I’d pushed her too far. Maybe I shouldn’t have called her out on her shit. But I meant what I said—I didn’t want her thinking that “nice guy” meant she could walk all over me. Or that she could just turn this into casual sex and walk away unscathed.

  We stood in the hallway facing off, both of us looking like we’d underestimated each other. Maybe we had.

  I didn’t know her secrets, and I’d meant it when I told Mitch I didn’t want to know, not until she trusted me enough to tell me, but there was definitely something there. This was more than a girl who wasn’t looking for commitment. There were parts she’d completely closed off, and I didn’t know how to get to them. That I desperately wanted to made the stakes even higher.

  “Come upstairs with me.” I held my hand out to her again. “Please.”

  She hesitated before she placed her slender hand in mine, the contrast between us even more noticeable. In that moment she felt delicate, and I felt an urge to protect her, even though she was the girl who seemed like the last thing she needed was protecting.

  Jackie

  We walked up the stairs together as Will led me to his bedroom. He opened the door, flicking on the light, waiting while I crossed the threshold before coming in behind me.

  I tried to focus on his bedroom, on the elegant paintings, and the ginormous bed with its pool of navy sheets that looked soft as butter. I tried to focus on the hardwood floors, and the ornate light fixtures, everything but the man in the room with me.

  The night we’d met at the bar, I’d felt reckless. I’d never intended for it to be anything more than one night; he’d just been a hot guy that my body had been very attracted to. But now, I liked him, a lot. He was smart, and funny, and kind. And as much as it scared the shit out of me, I respected him for challenging me. He didn’t give me a free pass on things because he wanted to get laid.

  I just didn’t know what to do next.

  I moved around the room, taking in the decor, using the time to calm my nerves. His bedroom was gorgeous, male, elegant, just like him. It was so much more grown-up than my shitty little apartment with the Les Misérables poster on the wall, and furniture that didn’t match, and the roommate I barely got along with. A five-year age difference was beginning to feel like much, much more.

  “Jackie.”

  The sound of his voice sent a shiver down my spine. Where was the nervous guy I’d flirted with at the Hay-Adams? How did he do it? It was as if he flipped a switch, and suddenly became someone I didn’t know how to handle. Someone who could make my body respond with just a few words.

  I turned slowly, desire winding its way through me like a drug.

  Will sat on the edge of his bed, his gaze eating me up. He’d removed his jacket at some point during my exploration of his room, draping it at the foot of the bed. He began undoing his bow tie, the sight of his fingers popping open the top button of his collar the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen. He looked every inch the satisfied male, calm and in command of everything.

  There would be no fumbling with him, no awkward sex moves, nothing but toe-curling, sheet-gripping pleasure. Every inch of his body promised me the best sex I’d ever had and I couldn’t do anything but stand there staring at him, admiring him, wanting more. My pounding heart kicked into overdrive as my whole body trembled with need.

  He’d left his snowy white shirt on, the top button unbuttoned. His hands moved to his wrists, removing his cuff links next, and holy shit, I died a little bit inside. His movements were unhurried and deliberate, and I saw an even more intimate view into his life. He gave me my own private striptease, but instead of sweat and spandex he oozed power and control.

  He finished removing his cuff links, setting them in his jacket pocket, and then he rolled up his sleeves, the movement lazy, as if I weren’t standing there, lust raging through my body, waiting for him to make a move. I was treated to the sight of tan wrists and muscular forearms before he finished and turned his attention back to me.

  His lips curved. “Come here.”

  Will spread his legs, making a space for me between his thighs.

  I moved forward, my legs shaking slightly with each step. I stopped inches away from him. His eyes tracked my every movement, desire in his gaze.

  “Strip.”

  A shiver ripped through my body as my nipples throbbed with need and I grew impossibly wetter. It was a command, and yet it wasn’t. It was a promise. It lingered between us unspoken, and I could hear it in the lust soaking his voice—if you do this, I promise you, I’ll make it the best you’ve ever had.

  My hands trembled as I unhooked the nape of the dress. The brush of the fabric against my body was enough to send another flash of heat through me. My skin was so sensitive, my body so far gone. We’d crossed over the line from want to need a long time ago.

  The dress fell to my waist, exposing my naked breasts, my nipples hard, sensitive points dying for his mouth and hands. His gaze trailed down my face, resting on my breasts inches away from his lips, so close that if he moved forward just a hair he could capture one with his mouth. All I could think was, please. His gaze ran over me, leaving an ache in its wake.

  Will didn’t move forward; he just sat there watching me, the only sign that his control was slipping, the white of his knuckles as his hands gripped the edge of the bed.

  “All the way.”

  Those three words sent me spiraling over the edge. I hooked my fingers under the fabric and wriggled my hips. The dress hit the hardwood floor in a pool of silk. I stood in front of him, naked, still in my heels. His eyes widened, his voice hoarse.

  “Kneel down.”

  There they were again, words that sounded like a command, delivered in a tone that bordered on desperation. I didn’t know who was in control anymore; it was like that with us, a constant shifting of power that kept me continually off balance. I liked it, and hated it, and wanted more. Now.

  I knelt between his legs, my hands grazing his strong thighs. The hard line of his erection pressed against my stomach, sending a flash of need through me.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all day. Wanting you, hard for you. Have you thought of me?” There was something raw in his tone, as if I’d just wrested a confession from him.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you,” I admitted, my voice shaking as I tripped over the words.

  I reached out, mesmerized by his voice and h
is smoky gaze, and stroked him through the expensive fabric of his tuxedo pants. I traced that hard line, loving the groan that escaped from his lips. He was in control, and yet he wasn’t. I loved the power coursing through me at the feel of him against my palm, loved knowing I made him this hard.

  Will pulled me toward him, brushing his lips against mine, the kiss firm and more intense than any we’d shared. It was a preview of what it would feel like when he was inside me, his body thrusting into mine, possessing me.

  Despite the dominance in his kiss, I met him stroke for stroke, my lips hungry and wanting, plundering his mouth. I plastered my body against his, rubbing my breasts over his hard chest, his muscles pushing against me. And then it hit me that I’d never seen him without his shirt on, never gotten to explore his body the way he’d teased mine.

  I broke away from his mouth, my chest rising and falling with heavy pants. My hands reached up, fighting with the buttons of his shirt, moving down until the fabric gaped open, exposing a broad chest and flat, muscular stomach. I pressed my lips to the skin there, loving the feel of him—satin and smooth—loving the taste of him against my mouth. My hands joined my lips, exploring his chest, dipping lower to trace his stomach muscles. I reached up, pulling the shirt away, and pushed back on my heels, unable to resist staring at the man before me.

  He had an athlete’s body. His shoulders and chest were broad, his collarbone defined. His pecs weren’t bulging, but they were impressive, tan, strong, just the barest sprinkling of light hair. I reached up, my finger grazing his collarbone, stroking the line before dipping lower, down the middle of his chest, lower still until I reached his abs, the kind of abs women fantasized about.

  I played with him, teasing his skin, moving forward and pressing my lips back on him, my hands, and mouth, and teeth leaving marks on his flesh. His muscles jerked beneath my touch.

  Will sat on the edge of the bed, silent while I caressed him, in part seducing him, in part being seduced by him. He didn’t touch me. Instead he seemed content for me to explore, letting me take my time, worshipping his body with my hands and mouth. The more I touched, kissed, licked, the more I wanted. I longed to move lower, to unzip his tuxedo pants, touch him, taste him. Yearned to take him deep into my mouth, to trace the length of him with my tongue.

  I’d never gotten off on giving pleasure. For me sex was always quid pro quo. But in this moment I was perfectly content to take care of him, to feel his cock hard against me, to hear his breath growing ragged with each touch. I wanted to know that no matter what happened, he would always remember this night. Always remember me. I shouldn’t have wanted for this to mean something, but I did.

  My hands moved lower, tracing the sharp indent on either side of his hips, the temptation to see all of him suddenly too great to resist. My hands trembling, I reached between us, my gaze never leaving his as I unbuttoned the top button of his pants, pulling the zipper down, my hand brushing against his hard length.

  “Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?” His voice was raspy, containing an edge that hadn’t been there before.

  I grinned, his words sending a thrill through me, the urgency in his voice giving me the confidence I needed. I palmed him, his cock jerking beneath my hand, another groan torn from his lips.

  “I think I have some idea.”

  I hooked my fingers underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down along with the pants. He leaned back on his elbows, watching me as I undressed him. Watching me watch him. And then my gaze dipped lower and I forgot all about his eyes.

  Will

  The sight of her kneeling between my legs about killed me. And then her hand fisted around me and I died.

  She stroked me up and down, her touch bringing me so close to the brink. Everything about this was too much, too intense. I wanted her with a longing that had pushed over to need, and if I didn’t have her soon, I’d explode.

  Jackie’s head bent down and she took me between her lips, her tongue licking over me, her mouth sucking me deeper. My hand gripped the sheets as I lost all sense of time, everything focused on her mouth wrapped around me.

  I was so close, on the brink of coming, and yet I held myself back. Fuck.

  I moved out of her reach, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her up on the bed. I shifted, pushing her back against the mattress until my body hovered over hers. She felt so small beneath me, and some primal part of me I didn’t even know existed loved it.

  The second I covered her, all of the desire that had been building while she teased me took over. Gone was the passive guy who was content to be seduced. I wanted her flushed and wet, needed her just as desperate as I was.

  My hands were everywhere, teasing her body just as she’d explored mine. I had the advantage here; last night I’d had the chance to see her, last night I’d learned what turned her on. It took the edge off, made it easier to move faster this time. I bent my head, kissing the tattoo over her hip. I licked my tongue over the ink, my dick jerking at the moan that escaped from her lips.

  My hands moved up, exploring her breasts, playing with her nipples, each touch bringing out little sighs that stoked the fire within me. Her hips arched, her clit rubbing against me, the wet friction sending off a tremor that passed from her body to mine.

  “Will.” She threaded her hands through my hair, pulling me against her.

  My name passing through her lips sent a shudder through me, but it was the unspoken words that lingered between us that had me falling.

  I trailed my hand down her skin, teasing the shiver from her body as I grazed her sensitive flesh, slipping my fingers inside her wet warmth. Whatever control remained evaporated as she throbbed around me, soaking my hand, drawing me deeper into her body. I slid in and out, my thumb rubbing her clit as my fingers fucked her.

  Jackie moaned. “Need you inside me. Now.”

  I pulled away, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. I ripped open the foil package, my hands shaking as I slid the condom on.

  I rolled onto my back, pulling Jackie with me, holding her tight against me while she straddled me, her body surrounding mine. This was what had been missing from sex—this need to possess that bordered on madness. This was messy, and complicated, and everything I never knew I wanted or needed.

  Jackie’s body slid over mine, her hands reaching between us, circling my cock, guiding me into her. I was the furthest thing from a poet, but in that moment, our bodies joined as she slowly eased herself down on me, inch by inch, her hair spilling around her breasts, eyes filled with lust, Roethke’s words ran through my head before she sank down on my cock and I stopped thinking at all.

  Jackie gasped as she began rocking over me, riding me, each sway of her body sending me further into oblivion. I pumped my hips, matching her pace, my heart racing. I gripped her, pulling her down, so fucking tight, thrusting deeper.

  It took a minute or two to adjust, to learn what each of us liked, until our bodies moved to a beat we found together. I reached down between us, finding her clit, fingering her while she rode me, until she tensed over me, her head thrown back as the first wave of her orgasm hit her. It ripped through me, the pressure building, my own release slamming through me, draining me until our bodies sagged against each other.

  I lay there, my body spent. Jackie leaned down onto my chest and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against me, loving the feel of her body next to mine. We stayed like that for a minute until I rolled over onto my side. She didn’t speak, and as much as I struggled to think of something to say, I came up blank.

  Mind blown.

  I went into the bathroom, cleaning up and splashing water on my face. I stared at my expression in the mirror, needing a moment. I hadn’t lied to her; I had no interest in playing games. And yet as much as I’d imagined the sex between us, reality had been something else entirely. She’d turned me inside out, and I barely recognized the guy staring back at me. And at the same time, I knew he wasn’t going any
where.

  When I came out, Jackie was still in bed, looking deliciously rumpled, the sheets pooled around her waist, her breasts bare.

  She flushed. “I should go.”

  Like hell.

  I climbed into bed, tucking Jackie against the curve of my side, making the decision for her.

  “Stay. I’ll make you eggs tomorrow.”

  I expected her to fight me. But she didn’t say anything—she stayed there, her body flush with mine, until exhaustion took over, and we both fell asleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nothing to report here.

  —First draft, Capital Confessions blog

  Jackie

  I woke in bed alone. For a moment, confusion set in. The mattress was softer than mine, the sheets a dark navy rather than my ivory ones. And then I remembered. I woke in Will Clayton’s bed.

  I rolled onto my side, wrapping the duvet around me. No sign of Will. Was I supposed to get dressed and leave? In my evening gown? I hesitated, stepping out of bed and grabbing his tuxedo shirt from the floor. I felt stupid going down in my dress, and as awkward as this was, at least the size difference between us meant it covered the important bits. The fact that his scent clung to it, surrounding me, sent a flutter through me I had no business feeling.

  Last night had been . . . I didn’t even know. Mind blowing? Confusing? Terrifying? All of the above?

  I liked him. I loved talking policy with him, loved the way he looked at me. And he was amazing in bed. But it was hard to see this going anywhere. I had my career to focus on. I had to get this job at Price. Despite my job at Capital Confessions and the money I’d made there over the years, I had student loans. I didn’t have a safety net, didn’t make enough money blogging to pay the bills. It supplemented my income, sure, but I needed something more permanent, with benefits, and health insurance, and things that kept me up late at night with worry.

  I didn’t have the option of moving in with mom and dad after graduation, didn’t have a parent who I could rely on for anything. Hell, half the time I felt more like my mother’s parent. I couldn’t afford to be impulsive, or let my personal and professional life get any more tangled than they already were.