“What did you write down then?” she asked suspiciously.
He ripped off the sheet of paper and handed it to her. Written across two lines was the number 7027.
Megan narrowed her eyes in question.
“That is my room number at the Four Seasons. I use it when I’m writing so I don’t get distracted by the world. No one will see us there. Hotels were invented for anonymous sex.”
She took a sharp intake of breath. This was for real. There must be reasons for her to say no, but she could not think of any at the moment. She stared down at the paper to stall for time. She did not know what to say. “How does our sex fit in with all the other meaningless sex you have?”
James smiled. “I prefer your transparency. If you want to ask if we would be monogamous, ask me.”
She considered her wording carefully. Monogamy was for relationships, which was the opposite of what she wanted. “I don’t care who you sleep with, just tell me before you sleep with me.”
“That is either an incredibly liberated view on sex or you have a kinky side that gets off on it.”
“Neither. I like having all the evidence. People can only give informed consent when they have all the information. So just tell me.”
“I would ask the same from you, but given your track record I reckon that it is a safe assumption I will be the only one you are fucking for the foreseeable future.”
Megan shook her head. Somewhere along the line, he had got the wrong impression of her. He seemed to think she held sex in higher regard than she did. “In the spirit of full disclosure, I have probably had as many sexual partners as you, if not more. I don’t want you operating under any illusions.”
“I’m impressed, my little wombat, considering you’ve been out of the game for five years. You must have been really going for it before you married the Senator.”
Megan’s back straightened. If he was being critical of her sexual history, the only action he was going to get was in the form of her shoving his notebook up his ass. “I told you before, I’m clean, so it shouldn’t matter.”
“And I told you before, it doesn’t. I don’t care. When I’m in bed with a woman, it’s just her and me. Everybody has a past.”
She looked away so he could not see her face. She was scared what he would see: admiration, lust, maybe gratitude. She was surprised his words affected her so much. She was so used to hiding everything about herself, it was nice to be able to share a little. She would not make a habit of it though. He wasn’t going to get any more of her mind, but he was welcome to her body.
“In this scenario how often do we have sex?” she asked, surprised she was even entertaining the idea, but then she looked at him and remembered why she would. Sexual chemistry that intense did not happen very often. The pleasure centre in her brain overrode every bit of logic she had.
He grinned. “As often as we can.”
“Until when? What is the expiration date? I don’t deal with openended scenarios or hypothetical. How long do you want this arrangement to last?”
“You are ever so romantic.”
“I wasn’t going for romantic. I’m going for practical.”
“Well then, congratulations. You nailed it.” He was smiling again.
She had never met anyone who smiled so often or so freely. She was always temporarily backfooted by the simple movement.
“Just so we are clear. You would like to enter an exclusive sexual relationship for an unspecified period of time.” She considered the statement and then shook her head. She shifted on the bench. She was so glad they were negotiating this in public so she would not be tempted to have sex and then hash out the details later. “No, that will never work. There has to be a stated period of time, something finite. I can’t enter into any agreement without an end date.”
“What about your marriage?” James asked pointedly. “Or did you plan on pretending for the rest of your life?”
“Are you asking as a journalist or the man I am considering entering into a contract with?”
He let out a puff of air as he considered the question. He ran his right hand through his tousled hair. “Both. I’m curious as your soon-to-be-contracted shag, and it’s an important detail for the story. How long was the charade meant to last?”
She opened her mouth to speak but he interrupted her by raising his casted hand. “You’re about to lie. I can see it. We both know we’re going to fuck again. If I slid my hand up your dress what would I find? You would be wet and hot, ready for me. We both know it, so don’t embarrass yourself by lying.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. He was right. She was ready for him. Without so much as a kiss or a touch, she was ready. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the awareness of him, the knowledge he was so close. His body, so large, so physically menacing, but she wasn’t afraid, because there was nothing he could do to her that her body would not welcome. The feeling was liberating, knowing that arousal could trump fear.
“The honest answer, is I don’t know how long Ben and I would have stayed married. At least long enough for him to serve two terms as Vice President, and hopefully another two as president.”
James shot her a dubious glance. “That would make you almost fifty before you could start a proper relationship. In that scenario you wouldn’t have a chance for a family.”
She shook her head. “Ben is my family.”
James looked unconvinced. “Fair enough, but what about a baby of your own? Doesn’t every woman want that at some level? How could he ask you to give all that up for his career?”
His antipathy for Ben was apparent. James used the same tone when he explained the situation with Seth Blair. James had him wrong. “Ben hardly robbed me of motherhood. I don’t want children. If I did, I would have them.”
“Never?”
Megan turned away. Her feelings were hard to understand unless she explained her past. And she wasn’t going to do that. “I did not enjoy being a child. I doubt I would enjoy raising one.”
“Fair enough. I myself can’t imagine a life without the possibility of a child. I want the opportunity to prove I won’t fuck it up as much as my father.”
“Your desire for progeny stems from the desire to outdo your dad. That is not a reason to drag a defenceless soul into existence.”
James rubbed at his chin with his casted hand. “Drag a defenceless soul into existence: that statement speaks volumes for your view on humanity. I may need to quote you on it.” He quickly scribbled down her words.
Her head snapped up. She didn’t want that printed. There was so much she didn’t want anyone to know. She needed to remember that James was a reporter but there was something about him that made her speak more freely than she did with anyone, maybe even Ben. “I am talking to the man I had sex with.”
James set down the notebook and turned so he could stare directly into her eyes. “Megan, I am going to fuck you. And I am going to make damn sure you enjoy it as much as I do. But I am running this story. Nothing will keep me from running it. If you’re operating under the illusion that I will soften towards you and pull the story, we need to stop right now. You think journalists are scum and maybe we are but this journalist has integrity and this man values honesty above all else. I want to have sex with you more than I have wanted anything in a very long time, but that is my private life and that will never impact my professional life.”
She slowly absorbed his words before she nodded. “And you said you didn’t compartmentalise well.” She hated the sentiment but she admired his honesty. Lots of men had fucked her over in life. At least James had the decency to warn her. “Turns out you have your own tell. People questioning your honesty is your trigger. If you were on the stand I would use it against you.”
“Lucky for me I don’t plan on committing any crimes in the District of Columbia.”
He did not answer her directly but she was not going to let it go. If she was going to divulge information about her life, he was going to need
to spill about his. “Why do you get so upset if people think you’re dishonest?”
“Because I am honest,” he said simply. “If you asked me if your ass looked big in something, I would tell you the truth, and then I would grab that ass so you know I think it is perfect.”
She flushed at the comment. He had picked an apt body part to comment on. Her ass was rather large considering the amount of running she did. “Or you could just lie.”
“I don’t lie. If you ask me something I don’t want to answer, I will say nothing, or I will tell you to fuck off.”
“Because those are nicer.” Megan said.
“No, because they’re the truth. My father was a liar. In his career, at home, it didn’t matter. I’m not him. I tell it like it is and if you don’t like it you can fuck off.”
Megan shook her head. “So you are pathologically honest and you avoid proper relationships because of your father. I thought I let my past impact my life…”
“What past? You did not exist before your eighteenth birthday.” James turned the conversation back on her.
“No I didn’t. And if you lived your life in the same way, your father would not bother you so much. Trust me on that one. I rarely give advice because I am hardly a paragon on interpersonal skills, but you seem just as messed up as me, so I don’t think I could do any more damage.”
James shook his head. “You can’t forget your past. It stays with you.”
“Only if you let it. My past doesn’t exist. Before you ask how I managed it, I will tell you. I have the social security number of a baby born the same day as me. So you will never find anything on me. Look as much as you want.” She took a deep breath and waited for him to say something. She had never divulged that information, but she needed now to test him. “Are you going to tell anyone?”
She glared hard at him, bracing herself for his answer, and studying his face for any sign of deception.
“You’re not the story, Ben is. I won’t put anything in the piece about your childhood.”
She exhaled the breath she did not know she had been holding. She glanced down at the paper in her hand: 7027. She had a choice to make. He would only ask once. She could have him again; feel the freedom and exhilaration of having his weight on top of her as they both found enjoyment in each other.
She did not give herself any more time to think about his proposition. This wasn’t about thinking, this would only ever be about how he made her body feel. “What time shall I meet you?”
James smiled, a mixture of surprise and pleasure gleamed in his dark green eyes. “Come by after work. If you’re not there by eight, I’ll know you’re not coming.”
Chapter Ten
James closed the mini bar with the heel of his shoe. He unscrewed the lid from a minuscule bottle of Scotch and downed it. He did not need to look at the clock on the bedside table. He knew it was after nine. He said he would only wait until eight, but he had stuck around like a wet schoolboy hoping she would change her mind.
She wasn’t going to come. He never really expected her to come, but the painfully large erection he was sporting was proof that he had wanted her to. She was all he thought about for the rest of the afternoon. He tried working but gave up after he realised he had accidently typed her name for the second time. Seemed his mind and his cock did not get the message that she wasn’t coming.
He considered his options. He could stay in the hotel room and drink until he didn’t care or he could go home and do the same thing for a fraction of the price. Neither of those held any appeal. He needed a random vacuous woman underneath him if he was going to stop thinking about Megan McCoy. The problem with Megan was he didn’t just think about screwing her, he played back bits of their conversations, and thought about things he wanted to ask her. He wanted her bloody opinion on things. He liked speaking to her. He was none too pleased with that fact, but it was what it was. He was not going to dwell on the fact that he had never had sex with someone whose company he enjoyed out of the bedroom.
Decision made, he slipped the room key in his pocket and headed downstairs to the bar. He was bound to find someone to pass the time with.
James stopped when he got to the entrance of the bar and surveyed the layout. His gaze went immediately to the blonde woman sitting on the stools. If he squinted, she bore more than a passing resemblance to Megan, but Megan would never wear the tight red dress that hugged every curve on her lush body. And he had never seen Megan with her hair down, it was always tied back or in a severe bun at the nape of her neck, almost like she went out of her way to disguise how attractive she was. Even James had not noticed until he had her pinned beneath him on his bed.
Christ, he needed to stop thinking about her.
His mind snapped into action. She would make a perfect substitute for the real blonde he wanted to be with tonight. The only problem was she was flanked by a suited man on each side. He could not see her face, because she was staring straight ahead but he could see the eager expressions of the two chaps who chatted away at her. Getting her away from them and into his bed may be a challenge, but he was never shy of a bit of work. Maybe that is why he was attracted to Megan in the first place; she certainly was hard bloody work.
James walked up to the bar and stood at arm’s length from the guy on her left. One of the men was wearing too much cologne, he suspected it was lefty. James ordered another Scotch and then turned to speak to the woman.
His eyes widened when he saw her. “Megan?” It came out as a question but there was no doubt who the woman was. He had never seen her with make-up. Her lips looked impossibly full, painted with scarlet lipstick to match her dress. His gaze fell to her dress with its deep plunging neckline. Her breasts were high and firm, her nipples taut against the thin material. He was instantly aroused, a situation that annoyed him more than he thought possible.
Megan’s head snapped round to him. Her mouth dropped open into a perfect “O” shape. His mind immediately went to all the uses he could find for that mouth. He was growing harder and thicker by the second.
“Megan?” The suit on the right asked. “I thought you said your name was Erin.”
Megan cleared her throat. “It is. Lovely meeting you gentlemen. I’m afraid I must call it a night.” She had the smooth voice of a woman who had been at the bar for more than a few rounds. Megan slid off the bar stool, avoiding his stare, as she pushed past the two men and tried to make her way to the door. She tipped forward slightly, ready to fall, but James was there in an instant, pulling her back hard against him.
“Can I get you a cab, Erin?” the guy on the left asked.
“She’s fine. I’ll take her home,” James said, his annoyance growing by the minute.
“Dude, you don’t even know her name,” the guy on the right said.
James took a deep breath. He did not want to get into it with these guys, but it was clear that both of them wanted to take her home. And there was no possibility of him letting that happen. “She’s with me.”
“She doesn’t look like she’s with you.” Lefty slid off his bar stool and stood to his full height. He fell short of James but he was still large enough to be more than a minor inconvenience.
James tossed some cash on the bar for his drink and to settle any tab Megan had, though he doubted she had bought any of her own drinks. “She’s mine,” James said. He must have convinced them or the pair thought better of picking a fight with him because they gave up their claim on Megan.
James put his hand on the small of her back and pushed her through the foyer into the corner with the elevator shaft. He forced himself to unclench his jaw. Seeing her with those two men summoned a primal force in him. He wanted her.
“I am not Megan tonight. I’m tired of being Megan. Tonight I am Erin the Air Hostess from Houston.”
“You’re drunk.” James rammed his finger into the button again as if it would make the elevator come faster. He needed to get her out of the foyer before someone recognised her.
And he could not put her in a taxi in this state. He ran a hand through his hair and swore.
“You swear a lot. Are you from Australia by any chance? Men from there swear a lot. And they have very big penises.”
James shook his head. Her accent was different, she sounded southern. According to here bio Megan was born and bred in New York City, but tonight, drunk, she sounded like she belonged in the back waters of Louisiana. She was definitely drunk if she could not hide her real accent; another piece in the puzzle revealed.
“So is that a no to the Australia part or no on the big penis?” Megan’s eyes sparkled. She looked completely relaxed and uninhibited. He was glad he walked in on the display at the bar because God only knew what the ass hats in the suits had planned for her.
He shouldn’t care. He had no claim on her.
Christ, what was she doing to him? The doors opened and James pushed her in.
“Ohh an elevator. Are we going to have sex here?” She leaned in and whispered like she was conspiring. “Because if you check, you will find I am very wet,” she said, mimicking the words he had used earlier that day. She ran her finger down the length of buttons on his shirt, settling finally at his buckle. “I just read a book where the couple had sex in an elevator.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I loved that book.”
“If the door opened, not even I could keep that out of the papers.”
She pouted which made her lips look even fuller, even more perfect for being wrapped around his cock. “Is this because you’re too pretty for me? Ben was right. It’s biology. Men can’t fuck down, only women. You’re too good looking for me. To be fair, you’re just too good looking.”
“Ben is an idiot,” James muttered. Why was the elevator going so slow? “And he is gay. He knows fuck all about what straight men find attractive.”
Mercifully the elevator doors opened and there was not a soul in the length of hall that led to his room. James circled her hand with his and led her down the corridor.
“You’re nice, James,” she sighed whimsically. “Nice and beautiful and you are good in bed. I think I would like you if you weren’t a journalist. I’d have a crush on you.”
Dirty Little Secrets Page 10
