by J. L. Berg
“I like to think of it as assertive and sexy. Besides, it doesn’t take a window for me to figure you out. You need this distraction right now just as badly as I do. I know you more than you realize.”
He did. I didn’t know how, but in the short amount of time we’d known each other, he’d managed to weasel his way in and learn the many sides of me.
Right now, he knew the one thing I needed most of all was a distraction from the evening we were about to begin. I was quite fond of his choice of distractions.
My hand slipped down my body toward the juncture of my thighs.
“That’s it, sweetheart—nice and slow.”
Parting my slick folds, I stroked myself once, moving up toward my clit. I circled the sensitive nub, involuntarily moaning from each tantalizing caress.
“Spread your legs. I want to see all of you.”
My legs shifted farther apart, giving a clear view of my most intimate parts and the way I was touching them.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed into the speaker.
Syllables, words, and sentences escaped me. So focused on my own pleasure, I could only respond with a deep moan as I sunk two fingers deep inside my core.
“Faster. Work those fingers faster, Liv,” he dictated.
I listened. Placing my thumb on my clit, I fucked myself, moving my fingers in and out, as I rocked my body against them.
“Jackson,” I managed to say.
There was no answer.
“Jackson!” I yelled as I felt myself growing close.
Suddenly, a loud noise from downstairs startled me, and hurried feet rushed up the stairs.
Before I had a second to cover myself, he appeared, standing in my doorway. He’d barely pulled down his jeans over his boxers briefs, which were now straining against the ridge of his hard cock.
With his hand pointed toward the bed, he ordered, “Hands and knees—now.”
His eyes were wild with desire, and I knew he was probably hanging on by a string. I didn’t waste any time. I stood from my chair in front of the window. As I walked past him, my hands brushed his bare chest, and his breath hissed out in response.
Crawling onto the bed and baring my ass in all its glory, I went on all fours. The bed dipped behind me as strong hands slid up my thighs and wrapped firmly around my hip.
His body bent forward, and his warm breath caressed my ear as he whispered, “Seeing you touch yourself like that, knowing you were thinking of me while you did it…I couldn’t stay away. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stay away Liv.”
His words halted as his body slammed into mine.
“Oh fuck!” I cried out, pushing back against him.
Over and over, he plunged into my slick body, sending me deeper into ecstasy. My legs shook, and my arms trembled as sweat dripped down my face. It was primal, dirty, and downright beautiful.
My body started to spasm as he let out a guttural moan while moving faster and harder. We came together, our bodies detonating like two exploding stars. Unable to stay upright a second longer, we both collapsed onto the bed, curled in each other’s arms. I could hear the rapid rhythm of his heart beating against my back as he kissed my shoulder.
“Stress level better?” he asked softly.
“Much.”
“Good, ’cause we’re running late now.”
I looked over at the clock and saw it was now twenty minutes from the time we were supposed to be at the restaurant.
“Shit!” I jumped out of bed, stark-naked, with my just-fucked hair sticking out in every direction.
“If it helps at all, you should wear the purple dress right there,” he said, pointing to a simple wrap dress. “I always like you in purple,” he confessed sweetly.
His naked body was draped across my bed, doing all sorts of crazy things to my frazzled brain.
“You, out,” I commanded, pointing to the door.
He laughed, standing proudly, without an ounce of shame.
With a body like that, who needs shame?
Focus, Liv.
“I can’t think with all that yummy nakedness around. Go get dressed, and be back here in ten minutes!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, playing up his Carolina boy accent.
He peeked out the window as he was pulling up his jeans. “Looks like Leah is here to pick up Noah. I’d better run out and say good-bye to him. Wish I had a shirt.” He shrugged and then quickly kissed me on the cheek. “Oh, and if it ever comes up, you’re afraid of spiders.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Spiders?”
“I might have mentioned something to Noah about you being afraid of spiders and needing someone to kill one for you before I ran out of the house as if a fire were chasing me.”
Before I had a chance to answer, he slapped my bare ass and gave me a parting wink.
I shook my head, covering a giggle, as I moved to the closet to get dressed.
I stopped as it all came back—dinner, parents…olive branch.
My phone rang, and it was Jackson again.
I glanced up at the window across from me, but he wasn’t there.
“Hello?”
“Purple dress, remember?”
“How did you—” I began to ask.
“I just did. Take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay.”
Nodding, I let in a long gulp of air and allowed it to fill my lungs.
No matter what happened tonight, I knew that everything would be just fine as long as Jackson was there to hold my hand.
~Jackson~
The restaurant was exactly the type of place I’d expected a Senator and his wife to dine. Upscale and refined, it was known for its exclusive menu and world-class chef. It was also impossibly hard to get into—unless, of course, one had money.
It was rumored that Douglas Prescott’s wealth was grossly exaggerated. Having been in several confidential meetings with him now, I knew this to be fairly inaccurate. The man was loaded. But wealthy politicians didn’t go over well in an economy where jobs were scarce and prices were sky-high. Even a rich Republican had to do his best to connect with the regular folk, and that was exactly what the good old Senator from Virginia was trying to do.
My opinion on the man was still on the fence, and most of it hinged on how he behaved tonight.
He could wine and dine the American people until he was blue in the face. What he did with his campaign was his business.
What he did with Liv, however, was my business.
I didn’t care that his account meant more to my boss than life itself. I would do whatever was necessary to protect what was mine—even if it meant leaving the position I’d come here for.
I had no idea what to expect as Liv’s hand slipped in mine, and we walked through the double doors of the restaurant.
Would her father be rigid and formal? Or would he break down at the mere sight of his little girl? Would he feel betrayed at the sight of me by her side wondering if I’d known who he was this entire time and never told him anything about Liv?
Honestly, I didn’t give a fuck what he thought of me, but I did care how he treated Liv, and I didn’t want my professional involvement to affect that.
After quickly checking in with the maître d’, we were escorted to a cozy table near the back of the restaurant.
So, the old man had requested privacy for this little reunion?
I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about that.
I squeezed Liv’s hand, quickly grabbing her attention. “You ready for this? We could still turn around.” I winked.
She smiled hesitantly and rubbed my knuckle with her thumb. “Nervous, counselor?” she joked.
“No way. I’m pumped.”
“Liar.”
When we reached the booth, the maître d’ formally announced us, “Sir, here is the rest of your party. Shall I bring the bottle of wine you selected?”
“Yes, that would be lovely,” the Senator replied.
I couldn’t
see him yet. My view was blocked by several plants and lavish floral decorations placed between each booth, obviously creating a feeling of intimacy.
“Olivia,” he greeted, his voice growing noticeably choked. “My Livvy Lou.”
“Hi, Daddy,” she replied.
I’d never heard that nickname, but I instantly loved it. It was endearing and sweet, and it gave me visions of a little girl with long braids climbing trees and piggybacking on her father.
A petite woman with dark chestnut hair and bright blue eyes, brimming with tears stood to greet us. She pulled Liv into her arms and held her tightly.
As they embraced, I got my first glimpse of the Senator outside of the conference walls of my office building. He looked up at the sight of his daughter and wife with satisfaction and obvious emotion. It wasn’t until Liv stepped back to take my hand once more that he seemed to notice anyone else.
“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend,” Liv said formally. She snuck a smirk in my direction, no doubt a response to her choice of title for me.
Her father rose from the table, outstretching his hand toward me. “Jackson Reid,” he stated.
“Yes, sir. Pleasure to meet you—again,” I added.
“I hadn’t realized,” he said, gesturing for us to join them at the table.
Liv went first, taking the seat closest to her father, and I slid in next to her.
“I apologize for blindsiding you, sir,” I began.
“Please, call me Doug,” he requested.
Nodding, I continued, “I didn’t want my relationship with Liv to appear as me trying in any way to get the upper hand with you in our day jobs. Considering the situation, I also wanted to protect Liv. I hope you understand my decision.”
Moments passed as he stared at me from across the table. I knew what he was doing. He was sizing me up. I didn’t back down or look away. Although I could really give a rat’s ass about what Liv’s absentee father thought of me, I would not appear weak in front of the woman I cared about so deeply.
“I appreciate your honesty, Jackson. I know being in the middle couldn’t have been easy for you, and quite frankly, most people would have taken advantage of a situation like that. Thank you for being a decent human being. I see why my daughter keeps you around. I would never have expected to see her with a lawyer.” He smiled.
“Well, she wasn’t too keen on the idea to begin with, but I wore her down.” I grinned, giving Liv a slight nudge with my shoulder.
“He’s still working on it,” she joked.
Wine was poured, and orders were soon placed. The conversation was kept light as Liv’s parents asked about her life. Liv told them all about the counseling center. Both sets of eyes were focused directly on her. Her parents listened to every word she said with rapt attention even though I got the feeling they already knew most of the information she was telling them.
“Sounds like you’ve done well for yourself,” her mother replied.
The way Doug had spoken about her the other day in the office sounded much like a father who had kept at least some tabs on his daughter over the years.
Perhaps I’d underestimated the man, and Liv hadn’t been as alone as she thought.
For her sake, I hoped so.
~Liv~
The sun was barely over the horizon as I parked my car in front of the old studio and stepped out into the humid heat. Late August always brought record-breaking temperatures to Virginia. Looking around for Leah’s car, I realized I was a few minutes early, so I decided to take a seat on one of the wicker chairs in front of the studio and enjoy the quiet early morning.
After eight long years, I’d seen my parents, hugged them, and held them in my arms.
They’d spoken the words I’d been longing to hear. It was like a dream come true, yet part of me couldn’t accept that it was real.
Why now? Why, after all this time, did they suddenly have a change of heart?
The little girl inside of me had wanted to run into the shelter of their arms, uncaring of their reasons behind the long-awaited decision. The adult in me—the woman who had spent so many years alone—couldn’t help but worry about what else might have been lurking to ruin my perfect homecoming.
A car door slammed, bringing my attention upward. Coming toward me in tight black yoga pants and a barely there hot pink sports bra was Leah. She was the type of friend who everyone wanted to hate because she was tall, lean, and freaking perfect. Adding in the ridiculously hot, completely faithful ex-movie star husband to the equation, she was lucky that women even spoke to her.
But after we’d become close friends and I’d begun regularly attending yoga and Pilates classes with her a few times a week, I’d quickly figured out one thing. Leah worked hard to keep her body looking so damn good.
I’d always considered myself in shape and physically fit. I’d run several times a week, and I had taken a few classes at the gym. I had never truly felt out of shape until I’d walked into a Pilates class with Leah and spent the next forty-five minutes wondering what in the holy hell I’d done to this instructor to deserve such torture. It had hurt to walk, sit, and pretty much move for the next two solid days. Pilates had taught me a different way to move, and my muscles had hated me for even attempting it.
But Leah had convinced me to give it another try until the pain eventually lessened, and I’d even added in yoga to my weekly routine as well. Now, it had become a sort of weekly ritual for us. On yoga days, Clare would join us, but today, it was just Leah and me.
“Hey, hippie girl,” Leah greeted, sitting next to me on one of the chairs outside the studio.
“What’s up, crazy?” I replied with a grin.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Just doing my best to stay out of trouble.”
The lock on the studio door flipped, and the lights inside suddenly turned on, announcing the instructor’s arrival.
“Yeah? How’s that working out for you?” I laughed as we rose from our chairs and headed toward the entrance along with another woman who had just walked up.
“Well, it’s only six thirty in the morning, but so far, so good.” She winked.
“Does this mean you are going to refrain from getting us kicked out of class again?” I gave her a meaningful look.
Playing innocent, she held up her hands. “I have no idea what you’re referring to. I’m always a model participant in this class.”
“Who never stops talking,” the woman next to us added with a smirk.
I burst out laughing and covered my mouth to muffle the sound, but it didn’t help. “Oh my God, she’s got you pegged, Leah! It’s true. You run your mouth from the time class starts until it ends. I have no idea how you can hold your legs at a forty-five degree angle and still maintain speech. It’s inhuman.”
She shrugged. “I’m good at it I guess.”
“Talking or Pilates?” I laughed.
“Both, bitch! Now, tell me about this sexy man and the dinner with your parents while I attempt to annoy the shit out of everyone in class.”
“Oh God, I should just leave now and save myself some money,” I huffed.
“Now, what fun would that be?”
We set up our mats on the floor and took our seats as we waited for the instructor to begin.
“Jackson is just…well—”
“He’s what?”
“Amazing.”
“Amazing?” she echoed.
“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. It’s just that I don’t think I’ve ever heard you describe a member of the male species as amazing. You even said it in a dreamy tone. Usually, they’re hot or sexy or good in bed…but never amazing. Well, there was that one guy who was amazing—in bed. Is that what you meant? If so, ignore everything I just said and carry on.”
“I think my head just exploded,” I said, shaking it to make sure I was still in one piece.
Spending a day with Leah was sometimes very exhausting.
“Wel
l, which one is it?”
“Amazing. He’s just amazing. I mean, he’s fantastic in bed—okay, better than fantastic. He deserves a blue ribbon for best lay, but he’s more than that.”
“Whoa, you’re gushing—over a guy.”
“I know.” I giggled.
“And you’re not even denying it! Was that a giggle?”
I just smiled.
“I want to meet this guy.”
“You have,” I pointed out.
“For a minute doesn’t count. Also, he didn’t have a shirt on. By the way, that was weird, considering he came from your house.”
I chose not to reply, and she just laughed.
“We should throw a dinner party. Clare has been dying to have one for ages.”
“Don’t we have dinner together all the time?”
The instructor, a perky young redhead, tried to gather everyone’s attention toward the front of the room.
Who knew this many women actually enjoyed waking up this early?
“Clare thinks a dinner party sounds fancy. She loves to watch HGTV when Maddie is at dance class. She is constantly calling me with crazy ideas about dinner parties and new festive holiday decorations. The other day, she blew up my phone all afternoon with ideas for Christmas. Seriously, Liv, it’s August.”
Cupping my hand over my mouth, I leaned over and whispered, “Could it have anything to do with all the baby hormones running rampant through her system?”
“Oh, definitely, but try to tell her no. Go ahead. I dare you.”
I held out my hands in defense just as we were instructed to lie on our backs for some core exercises.
“Oh, no, I’m not stupid. Dinner party it is.”
“Good,” she whispered. “And bring the next-door hottie.”
~Jackson~
When I was younger, my father had loved watching old TV shows. The Andy Griffith Show, Lassie, and My Three Sons were some of his favorites. He’d said it reminded him of a simpler time during his childhood—when life was easier and people were far less cryptic and cynical.
Long before I was old enough to think that hanging out with my father was lame, I’d sit and watch these black-and-white classics with him, thinking about how differently people treated each other in the television world.
