by Lita Lawson
“I don’t know about that, but I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will.”
JT led her to the kitchen, which was a small galley with cabinets on both sides. He took the lid off the sauce and Christine sniffed, nodding her approval. She took a spoon that was resting on the stove and dipped out a bite-size portion. Blowing on the spoon to cool the sauce, she felt JT watching her. She tasted it and was amazed at how good the marinara sauce was.
“This is delicious!”
JT laughed. “You oughta see your face. You look totally shocked.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I guess I never thought of you cooking.”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you think when you think about me.”
The man didn’t pull any punches. Direct and honest. She liked that.
“I think you’re a bit of an enigma. You’re working on my campaign, which is conservative, yet for all intents and purposes you appear to be more liberal. You know, the motorcycle, the leather.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I’m not sure what to think.”
“I didn’t ask you what you thought of me. What do you think when you think about me?” The back of his hand slid down the side of her face, and she closed her eyes. His fingertip ran along her lower lip, and she opened her eyes and met his.
“I think you take my breath away.”
“That’s good. I like that.” He gave her a soft, lingering kiss. “Do you think about that?”
She nodded, unable to speak. He walked her back into the refrigerator and trailed a series of kisses down her neck. Her legs felt weak, and she wasn’t sure if she could stand for long. A heat built between her legs, pulsing, creating an ache of desire.
JT kissed her skin at the vee of her blouse, and began unbuttoning it. He slid his hands on her naked skin from her navel up to her bra. His hands cupped her breasts, and his thumbs rubbed circles around her nipples. Even through the lacy fabric of her bra, they tightened in response.
Breathless, she dared ask, “And what do you think when you think of me?”
“I think of this.” He slid his hands down the sides of her thighs. Hiking her skirt up to her hips, he ground his erection into her pelvis. “That’s how much I want you, Chris.”
She ached for him. Clumsily, she unbuttoned his shirt and spread it open before running her hands across his hard, sculpted chest. His body was like a work of art. As a patron of the arts, she wanted to enjoy it and appreciate it for its beauty.
Removing his hands from beneath her skirt, JT popped open her bra, freeing her breasts. He captured them in his hands and massaged them, eliciting a moan of satisfaction from her.
“Oh, JT, what you do to me . . .” She sighed, unable to find the words to make a complete sentence.
He lowered them both to their knees as Christine fumbled with his belt. JT slipped her shirt off her shoulders, and then removed her bra.
“You are so beautiful.”
His eyes were a testament to his adoration of her. His mouth captured a breast while his hand massaged the other one. Christine fumbled with his zipper as her head dropped backward and she arched her back, pressing her breast further into his mouth.
“Oh, JT. You make me feel so . . . alive. Wild.”
“Show me, baby. Show me.”
He slid his pants down around his hips, and—as he was wearing no underwear—his erection sprang free. When her hand closed over it, JT groaned.
In the haze of her mind, she felt something warm on her shoulder. She continued to massage JT until she felt another drop plop onto her shoulder.
“I think something’s simmering, JT.”
“Mmm, that’s me.” His hips rocked back and forth.
She could hear a bubbling noise. “No, it’s the sauce.”
JT raised a hand and felt around for the knobs of the stove. “There. Now don’t stop.” He licked her shoulder. “Tasty.”
She giggled, and JT hauled her up until she was straddling him, her legs wrapped around his waist. She felt her own dampness moisten her underwear as she pressed against his rigid shaft. Sliding her hands down his back, she grabbed his butt and rocked with him.
His tongue dampened her nipple, and he gently held the nub with his teeth as they rocked together.
“Oh, JT.” Christine felt nothing but the pure ecstasy of their bodies meshing together, wanting the same thing, the same release.
JT slid his hand between his erection and her underwear, finding her mound. His thumb circled her damp flesh as their rocking together continued. His mouth contained her breast, and Christine moaned as they bucked together, kneeling on the floor.
She saw lights first, much like sparklers during the Fourth of July. Then she felt the first wave grip her, and then they were multiplied like ripples in a lake from a tossed rock. The sparklers turned to fireworks, and she screamed out his name as she climaxed.
Collapsing against his chest, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on, hearing a ringing in her head. She’d never experienced that before.
JT’s voice was raspy with passion. “I think your purse is ringing.”
“Oh.” Her eyes opened. “Oh. It might be Sammy.” And the mom in her managed to stand and grab her purse, rummaging in it until she found the phone.
“Hello.” Her voice was breathless to her own ears.
JT came up behind where she stood and pressed himself against her back, cupping her breasts.
“What? Now?” With JT still stroking her breasts, she could barely string a sentence together. “There can’t be any flights out now.” She stifled a moan as his thumbs caressed her nipples to attention.
“Oh, you’re driving.” She closed her eyes as she listened to Tad destroy her evening with JT. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” She punched a button, disconnecting the call.
JT released her breasts. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Tad has to go back to DC and needs me to come back home for Sammy.” She turned, looking into those dreamy eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“You and me both.” He ran his hand through her hair.
“I can’t leave you like this.” The chill of the evening air on her lust-filled sweaty body reminded her she was half-naked. She wrapped her arms self-consciously around her chest.
“Don’t do that.” JT took her arms and unwrapped them, putting them around his back. His skin felt so smooth to her as he nuzzled a kiss in her hair.
Christine wanted to cry. The call had brought her back to reality. She wasn’t a teenager who could act out her desires without considering the consequences. She was a mother, and a mayoral candidate. Here she was with a man she hadn’t known for long, her skirt hiked up above her hips, revealing her underwear and pantyhose, her boots still on, completely naked above her waist, and wantonly already climaxed without intercourse, just by rubbing together. This wasn’t how she should be behaving.
But damn it, she wanted him, wanted to throw all her obligations to the wind, at least this once, this one night. She couldn’t even manage one night of pleasure for herself. Tears borne of self-pity and frustration pricked at her eyes, blurring her vision. The last thing she wanted to do was let JT see her cry. He’d probably think she was some kind of sex-starved flake.
JT was still raining kisses along her jawline, so Christine hugged him tight and slid to her knees.
“What are you doin’, babe? I thought we had to go.”
“We do, but I can’t leave you like this.”
He grabbed her arms and pulled her back up to her feet. “There’ll be other nights. Let’s get you home to your boy.”
Tenderly, he kissed her on the lips, and she wanted to cry even more. He understood and wasn’t mad. And there would be other nights. That thought made her happy.
“I guess we’d better get dressed.” JT searched around the kitchen floor for their tangled garments.
“What about the sauce? I didn’t get to eat your food.”
�
�I’ll put it in the fridge, and I can bring it over tomorrow. Or if you like, you and Sammy can come here.”
The man was amazing. He seemed to take everything in stride. She wanted to cry with disappointment and was angry at reality trampling her evening, but JT was so laid-back about it all.
Maybe there were some other things he could teach her besides things that took her breath away.
Chapter 9
Lights were blazing from the house as JT walked Christine to the porch.
He figured it was for the best that her cell phone had interrupted them. He wasn’t sure how far things would have gone if it hadn’t—probably all the way. She’d felt so good in his hands, kissing her, touching her. But in order to protect her, he needed to keep her at arm’s length emotionally. He of all people knew better.
Sammy burst out the front door and stopped, looking at his mother. “Wow, Mom, you’re a hottie!”
JT grinned at the boy’s comment. He couldn’t have said it better himself.
Tad stepped out behind his son and looked Christine up and down with derision. “It’s not Halloween yet.”
Anger flared in JT. “I have to agree with Sammy.” He gave Tad a hard look, making his message clear.
Christine glanced up at him. “Thanks, JT.” Then she turned to Sammy and said, “We’d better get you ready for bed.”
“What time do you want dinner tomorrow?” JT asked.
Christine looked up at him with those baby blues that made him want to throw caution to the wind. “Oh, yeah, the spaghetti. I have a fundraiser tea tomorrow afternoon, but about seven o’clock?”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”
Sammy hugged his dad good-bye and entered the house with Christine.
As JT walked to his bike, he heard Tad following behind him. Ignoring him, JT straddled his bike and looked over his shoulder to find Tad still there.
“From how rumpled she looked and the lipstick smeared on your collar,” Tad said with a sneer, “I’d say you’re doing more than security work.”
Irritation fueled JT’s retort. “You did say to keep a close eye on her.”
“I didn’t say to get involved with her romantically.”
JT kicked the bike to life. “Look, we’re not involved. We just had dinner. And I’ve seen no evidence of anyone following or hassling her or Sammy, nor has she indicated there’ve been any menacing calls. Maybe it’s time for this assignment to come to an end.”
Tad glared at him. “It’ll come to an end when I say so and not anytime sooner.”
“You don’t own me.” JT revved the engine. “If I don’t see anything suspicious in the next week, this job is finished.” With that, JT popped the clutch and rolled away from Tad.
He didn’t know who he was angrier at—Tad with his overbearing, arrogant attitude, or himself for messing around with Christine while being paid to protect her.
• • •
The next afternoon, Christine chatted breezily at the Founders’ Daughters’ meeting and fundraiser, responding to the typical political questions with answers she could recite in her sleep. She was jarred from sleepwalking through the event by a question she hadn’t anticipated or had any reason to expect.
“So now that you’re divorced, dear, I hear you’re getting out and about again.”
Looking down at the aging woman dressed in a fuchsia suit, her neck encircled by a huge pearl necklace and a big silk flower adorning the jacket, Christine murmured, “Oh, just a little bit.” Releasing her hand from their handshake, Christine started to move on to the next person waiting to talk to her, but the little old lady was persistent.
“I mean,” she continued with a wink, “you know, dating again.”
Christine hoped her surprise was masked by her broad smile, but wasn’t sure. “Oh, not really.”
The woman raised an eyebrow, giving Christine a knowing look. “My friend Sadie tells me you have a young fellow who’s helping you around the house and having dinner with you.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Christine tried to spot anyone who looked like they worked for her campaign, and was relieved when she didn’t see any. “You know Sadie. Always the matchmaker.”
As Christine turned to advance through the crowd, the woman spoke louder. “I hear he’s quite nice-looking in a dangerous sort of way.”
More heads turned their way, so Christine returned to the woman and said in a low voice that brooked no argument, “The man Sadie’s referring to is a campaign worker,” then gave her a bright smile.
And with that, she walked away without a backward glance, trying not to notice the curious stares from many onlookers as she made her way to the hostess of the event.
Sadie would be the death of her.
• • •
Sammy was ready and waiting for her at Sadie’s house when she picked him up that evening.
“Did you have fun, dear?” Sadie asked Christine as she folded the afghan Sammy had been using.
“Yes, I did.” She held Sammy’s sweater out for him as he put his arms into the sleeves sleepily.
“I hear you spoke with my friend Pinkie.”
“I don’t think so. I would have remembered someone with a name like that.”
“Oh, you can’t miss her. She always wears pink, and loves her pearl jewelry.”
It occurred to Christine that the lady grilling her about dating might have been her, but couldn’t be sure.
“Hmm,” she murmured noncommittally, hoping to avoid further conversation.
“Anyway, she said that you said JT was your campaign worker and not your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, Sadie.” Exasperation with her neighbor tinged her words.
“I think if he’s painting your porch, taking you for rides, and spending time with your son, it makes him your boyfriend,” the woman said obstinately as she planted her hands on her hips.
“We’re just friends, Sadie.” Christine had Sammy buttoned up and was making her way to the door to escape.
“So that’s what you call it nowadays? Friends? Well, mark my words, you two are dating. Both of you have sparks in your eyes.”
“Good night, Sadie.”
Christine sighed with relief as she pulled the door shut behind her. She couldn’t figure out why Sadie had to be so adamant about JT and her. There was no reason to speculate there was a relationship in the making. JT was by all accounts a womanizer who didn’t stick around long, and Christine wasn’t interested in any type of relationship.
After divorcing Tad, the last thing on her mind was men or any type of commitment. And she was sure JT felt the same way about women. So, what did it matter to anyone else if the two of them had some harmless fun?
Lord only knew she deserved a little bit herself, what with raising Sammy on her own, with practically no help from Tad. And serving on the city council and running for mayor certainly kept her busy.
Girls just want to have fun, and Christine was no exception.
• • •
JT brought spaghetti over for them that evening. They had a wonderful time together, and she couldn’t miss the fact that Sammy had really warmed up to JT—to the point where her son’s increasing fondness for him worried her. She could like JT, but Sammy could easily get hurt. His father’s erratic visits often left him feeling down. How would he react when JT no longer was providing security checks on them, and Sammy never saw him again?
While Sammy watched TV, JT helped Christine clean up the dinner plates. After shutting the dishwasher door, she leaned against the kitchen counter. JT next to her, his large palms spread out to support his body as he lounged there.
Having him in the kitchen with her, cleaning up after dinner, reminded her of a family unit. But JT wasn’t Sammy’s dad or her husband. He was an enigma; there was still so much she didn’t know about him. Yet, here they were in this family setting, and she felt comfortable with him being there. But her first concern had to be her son.
&nb
sp; “That was a great meal. I had no idea you were such a good cook.”
JT wrapped her in his arms. “Thanks, babe. Although, I kinda liked the sauce better when I was licking it off of you.”
She slid her fingers into his back belt loops and sighed into his chest. “That was a nice evening.”
His tawny eyes gazed down at her as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “But this is kinda nice too.”
Christine wouldn’t allow Sammy to be hurt when JT’s work took him to another town and away from Sammy, just like his dad. She was an adult and would handle their separation whenever it came, but Sammy was only a child. And she would do everything in her power to protect her son from getting hurt.
Could a free spirit like JT enjoy everyday family life? If he could, she needed to know.
“You know, JT, it’s been great being with you, and having you around. I know Sammy really looks forward to spending time with you.”
“He’s a cool kid. You’ve done a great job with him.”
“I need to talk to you about Sammy.”
His brow furrowed. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”
The concern in his voice was something she should hear when Tad talked about Sammy. Instead, this new man in their lives sounded more worried about Sammy’s well-being than his own dad usually did.
“Christine, talk to me. Is something wrong?”
“Since the divorce, Sammy has really missed his dad. And Tad, with his schedule and career and all, his visits are sporadic at best. Sammy’s taken it pretty hard, and he’s not been very happy until lately. You’ve changed that.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“It is if you’re in our lives for a while and he gets attached, and then you go off on another assignment out of town. I’m just afraid of him experiencing another hurt like that.”
JT’s eyes darkened, and he stepped out of their embrace. After pacing the kitchen for a moment, he sat on one of the bar stools and leaned his elbows on the counter. “You’re right about that.”
Her heart sank, fearing he would leave Sammy now—and her—and not come back.
He sighed, and if Christine had to guess, she’d say his expression seemed sad. “I know better than anyone about those things. I know all about hurt and disappointment. Being an orphan, it’s pretty obvious when your own parents don’t care enough to keep you.” Bitterness tinged his words. “I went from foster home to foster home, always feeling like the outsider. Out of place. Unwanted. Unloved.”
