by Donna Hill
“The main thing is to stand your ground, both of you,” Chad was saying to Simone and Samantha. “The first sign of weakness and they’ve got you.”
“Perhaps, but at the moment it looks like your approach to be up-front about the attacks has backfired,” Adam said, his comment directed at Chad. “They’re using it not only against Samantha, but Simone in particular.”
Chad cut Adam a sharp look but held his tongue. This wasn’t the forum to get into whatever their personal issues were.
“I agree with Chad,” Samantha cut in, not appreciating Adam’s accusatory tone.
“We all did,” Simone added, her voice hoarse and tired. “What we need to concentrate on now is getting prepared to present this case, making sure everything is in place and that there is no chance it will be dismissed out of hand.”
“And we need to keep your campaign in mind, Simone,” Pam stated. “Bad press is something we can’t afford, not while we’re only a few points ahead of McCall.”
“The statement we released to the press this morning should put out some of the fire,” Adam said. “It’s going to get ugly. He’s getting desperate.”
Chad walked across the room and sipped the remains of his Coke. “Justin and I have tied up every loose legal end we could foresee. What we don’t need right now are any more accidents. Everyone needs to be extra careful about driving, coming in and out of buildings alone and accepting packages. Whoever is behind this means business, and the closer we get to the court date, the higher the stakes. Especially once it hits the papers. You all understand that, don’t you?”
Nods and mumbles of agreement responded to him.
“Good. Sam, you still have all the backup materials at your office. Make sure they stay in a safe place. In the event that there’s any snafus I don’t want to have to reinvent this whole process. Reconstructing the more than six hundred suits in this case would cripple us.”
“That’s all been taken care of,” she said, resting her head back against the cushions of the couch.
“Vaughn is arranging for added security for the fundraiser,” Chad continued, taking full control of the meeting. He was the only one who seemed to have any energy left. “She’ll be using some of her people. Mia, I know it’s a monstrous task, but you need to contact each and every person on the list and make sure they’re prepared for court, and have not and will not speak to the media.”
“I can get Nettie and Steven to help you with that,” Samantha offered.
Mia nodded and added that to her lists of tasks.
Chad stood in the center of the room, tall, dark and decisive. He’d prepared for four years for the days ahead, and he wouldn’t allow any oversight to derail it. “Anything else to add?” He looked from one exhausted face to the next.
“No” was unanimous.
“Then we need to get out of here and let Simone get some rest.”
One by one they pulled themselves up from their various positions and prepared to leave.
“Excuse me if I don’t see you all to the door,” Simone said over a yawn.
“You get yourself to bed,” Samantha counseled, bending to kiss Simone’s cheek. “I’ll call you in the morning.” She left with her arm around Chad’s waist, and for the first time, Simone didn’t feel that twinge in her stomach.
Simone and Adam were finally alone.
Adam bent down and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to go home and get a few things. I’ll be back, if it’s okay.”
She smiled up at him. “I’ll be waiting.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Not with the door unlocked this time,” he said, reminding her of what could have been a disastrous mistake the night before.
“Take my spare set of keys. They’re in the kitchen drawer near the back door.”
He nodded. “See you in a few.” He quickly went to get the keys and headed out.
Turning the key in the ignition on his black Acura Legend, he smiled thinking of the hours ahead. This was turning out better than he could have ever dreamed.
Chapter 34
Pamela sat on the side of her four-poster canopy bed, letting the final vestiges of adrenaline begin to trickle out of her pores. It was almost 2:00 a.m. Yet, she couldn’t sleep. Her mind was weary, but her hyperactive body betrayed her, kept her revved up, would not let her rest.
She lay back against the cool, pearl gray satin sheets and the thick down-filled pillows, her short sheer nightgown of a misty sea green rising up to her hips. She drew up her knees, resting her hands on her flat stomach, and sighed heavily. With all that had happened in the past few months: stepping up the momentum of the campaign, the increase in media scrutiny on the entire Montgomery family, the long brutal hours and now this push for the class action suit, they’d had to forego their late-night-into-morning interludes. “Wait until everything calms down,” he’d said. “There’s too much at stake and we have to be on top of things every minute.” She knew it was true. Everything hinged on staying focused. No slipups and then they’d be together and have everything she’d ever dreamed of.
Knowing all that, however, did not stem her need for him, did not quell the desire that throbbed so deeply within her it felt like another heartbeat. That unquenchable hunger for his touch.
She could have had any man she wanted. She’d had her pick from an endless parade of men, from politicians to security guards. Never had she allowed her less-than-stellar background to stand in the way of what she wanted—influence, affluence, and to be among the powerful. To take her place among the decision makers. It didn’t matter that her parents hadn’t gotten beyond the fifth grade in school, or that her sister had four children by four different men, or that her brother died of a drug overdose at sixteen. She’d put all that behind her. She’d come to Washington, worked her way through school, read voraciously of every fashion, decorating, style and etiquette magazine. She took Saturday classes in diction to erase her heavy Southern accent, which was seen in some circles as a liability, the mark of the uncouth, the tongue of the classless hick. She went to the gym religiously to shed the hereditary extra pounds that always found their way around her hips and breasts. And she made sure she was seen in all the right places, was invited to the right functions. She graduated from George Washington University with honors, proud of her double major in political science and economics. No, she was no dummy. No pushover. Except when it came to him. Him. For him, she became foolish, a prisoner of her heart. accepting bad behavior she would have never taken from anyone under any circumstances. And for the first time in her adult life, she felt powerless, powerless to shake this hold he had over her. What was worse, she had no desire to be free of him. She loved him. From the beginning. And he loved her. He’d whisper the words in her ear when he moved inside her, when he touched her so tenderly it brought tears to her eyes—he’d say it. “I love you, Pam.” It was during moments like that when she felt she was the luckiest woman in the world.
She reached for the bedside phone. All she needed was to hear his voice, hear his assuring words so that she could sleep. His soothing words, which would wrap around her like the comfort of a warm blanket.
Holding the phone to her breasts, she could almost feel his annoyance come through the wires if she were to call him now—after the promises they’d made.
No. She returned the receiver to its base. She could wait. It would be worth it. It always was.
Pam closed her eyes. The throb of passion continued to beat between her thighs. She moaned, turned onto her side and stared at the illuminated dial of the bedside clock.
After the fundraiser, Simone’s campaign would shift into high gear, compounded with what she knew would be a grueling duel with the media and Simone’s opposition once the information was released about the farreaching ramifications of the suit. She anticipated the initial uproar which would accompany the news of their legal offensive. It would be a while before things settled down to a semblance of normalcy. But the instant there was a
window of opportunity, she was going to convince him they needed to get away on a welldeserved vacation. Take a break. It seemed like forever since they’d been away together. Maybe a week in Hawaii, she thought, feeling her body slowly relax. Yes, Hawaii, just what they needed.
So much to do, she mused before drifting off to a dream-filled sleep.
Chad was seated on a kitchen stool at the island counter, his bare birch-brown arms bold against the sleeveless white ribbed undershirt and baggy gray sweats hanging low on his narrow hips.
Samantha watched the gentle ripple of muscle beneath the taut flesh of his arms and solid back as he raised and lowered a glass of orange juice. The back of his hair was squared off and perfectly even, exposing the roped muscle of his broad neck that spread to his wide shoulders.
“Morning,” she said from her spot in the doorway.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. A warm smile greeted her. “Mornin’. Have a good run?”
She nodded but didn’t move from her spot.
“I’ve been thinking, Sam—I can’t stay here much longer. I really have to start looking for my own place.”
Her stomach rose and fell at the thought of Chad leaving. Over the past weeks, she’d grown accustomed to his presence, the intoxicating scent of him, the husky timbre of his voice when he sang off key in the shower, his raucous laughter and his gentle yet strong touch. She didn’t want to think about coming home not to him, but to emptiness. To a quiet set of dark rooms. To the sound of only herself moving about her empty home.
But he was right. He couldn’t stay much longer—threats or not. She had to accept that. Empty.
Samantha mopped the sweat from her brow with a small baby-blue towel, a perfect match for her running outfit of the day—baby-blue biker shorts and a clinging Lycra half top. Her muscles still burned from the exertion of her run. Her body tingled with the flow of blood pumping through her veins. She felt excited, one long, sinewy mass of sensation. This was the way she always felt after a run. It was like foreplay—stimulating, awakening all the nerve centers in her body. And to come back home—her body still in the throes of exhilaration, her pores open, her thighs throbbing, her breasts feeling tight and full—to see Chad in all his black, virile maleness sitting in her kitchen was almost more than she could stand.
She pulled open the refrigerator and reached for her bottle of spring water. The water was icy cold, sliding down her throat in seamless gulps. Through her chest, down into her belly where the flame leaped and fanned through her insides, pouring across the fire over and over until the bottle was drained and the flame was reduced to tiny embers of warm light—until the next time.
Finally, she responded to his declaration. “I suppose you’re right. We seem to have gotten distracted,” she said, forcing a lightness into her voice.
He turned fully around on the stool. Her nipples suddenly stood erect as if they’d been tweaked by the tips of tender fingers. She didn’t try to hide them, but she stood there, wanting him to see how aroused she was.
He stood up and stepped close to her as his tongue glided across his mouth, teasing and taunting all of the sensations to be found there. His full lips glistened with momentary wetness. Her breath rose to her chest, caught and hung in her throat, then slipped like a ghost across her lips.
“Distracted is a good description,” he said, his voice slow, low and misty, almost dreamlike. “It’ll be hard for me to leave.”
“Leave this house—or me?” she softly challenged. A trickle of sweat ran slowly down her spine.
Chad stood, then deliberately moved toward her. His index finger extended and traced her damp hairline. He stepped closer, the hard peaks of her swollen nipples grazing erotically against the white ribs of his T-shirt. “What if I said both?”
“Then I’d tell you there was no reason for you to leave.”
The bulky weight of his erection brushed against the damp invitation between her thighs, and the shocking thrill of it nearly caused her to gasp.
She could feel the race of his heart pounding against the walls of his chest. Its exaggerated rhythm matched the rapid beats of her own. She stood perfectly still. It was up to him. He would make the first move and then she would surrender to him, to his advances, to his caresses.
“Sam.” His voice came from somewhere deep in his gut. “Being here.” His eyes roamed across her face. “These weeks have been heaven and hell.”
She ran a nail delicately across his bottom lip and savored the look of desire that momentarily clouded his eyes. Something stirred, uncoiled, down below his belt in his sweats.
He took her hand. “Do you know how much I want you? This much.” He placed her hand on his heart, and she felt the racing beat of it. Then he took her hand and cupped it along the length of his sex where it throbbed in taut hardness beneath her fingertips. “Every day,” he expelled on a long, hot breath that teased her lips like a feather.
She couldn’t breathe. Words danced without meaning in her head, tumbling from her lips in a soft puff of moans and tender whimpers.
“I wanted to wait,” he murmured, brushing soft titillating kisses along the supple column of her neck, while his free hand found the dip of her waist, his thumb caressing her ribs, then the sensitive underside of her breast. “But I can’t.”
She shuddered, her neck arching, her lower body pushing instinctively forward, searching for relief from the heat that seared her insides. And still she held him, gently kneading his smooth skin, stroking him. But she wanted to feel him, really feel him, feel what she knew would be that satin over hardened muscle of him. She must.
Bold, daring, willing, she grasped the elastic band of his sweats and eased it down over his hips, releasing him to do with as she wished. Free from the barrier of cloth, she ran her fingers teasingly along the elongated shaft of his sex, taunting its delicate head with her fingertips.
A shudder slammed him hard. A groan, a blend of sound somewhere between agony and ecstasy, crawled up from his throat. He gritted his teeth, bracing his back against the frame of the door, as wave upon wave of pleasure rolled through him.
Samantha felt the full extent of her feminine power and she was rewarded for her skillful ministrations with tiny drops of dew that christened the tips of her fingers.
“Sam…” he groaned, pulling her hand away from a certain end to this game of passion they played.
“I know,” she whispered.
Chad pulled her fully against him, his ardor having crossed the boundaries of no return. His mouth covered hers completely, his tongue slipping into the hot, wet confines, giving and testing a sample of what was sure to come.
His expert hands roamed freely along her damp body, seeking out her most secret pleasure zones, moving with ease over her clothing, which had now become one with her, sealed to her skin. They pressed full-length against each other, holding on almost desperately while their hips met in a smoldering primal gyration that was beyond the measure of time. She mumbled softly into his neck about all the things she wished him to do to her, her arms still entwined around him like unruly tendrils of ivy over stone. The entire room suddenly became infused with their heat, the urgency of their need played out in a blur of emotion and craving against the golden beams of sunlight bathing them.
“No,” she rasped into his ear, suddenly looking over his shoulder at a thinly sliced mango on the table. “Come.”
His face wore a quizzical expression, then he understood where they were heading and allowed himself to be led down the long hallway toward the stairs to her bedroom. “Wait,” he said and stepped out of his sweats. She pulled off her top as they mounted the stairs, and his T-shirt followed.
He watched the sensual curve of her back, the teasing peek at her breasts when she turned halfway toward him, moving up the staircase.
He stepped in front of her when they reached her bedroom door. He looked down at the soft swell of her honey-brown breasts, the dark areolas reaching out to be teased with his tongue, th
e dip of her stomach and the gentle dark rise that he longed to bury himself in. He pushed the door open and backed into the room, his arms locked around her waist.
Samantha eased him back on a corner of her bed, her eyes dark with all the wicked intent of a naughty Catholic schoolgirl, and knelt between his long bowed legs.
He leaned back on his arms and elbows, shutting his eyes tightly as she let her tongue trace wet curlicues on his inner thighs. Her head rolled and dipped from one tender spot to another, wringing the breath from him in short, shuddering gasps.
Chad nearly screamed when she suddenly stopped. His eyes flew open and he looked at her standing in front of him.
A slow, seductive smile curved her lush lips, swollen from his kisses. By degrees she pushed the baby-blue shorts off her hips and down her thighs, revealing her nakedness beneath, and stepped out of them.
Chad’s heart shot against his chest. She was as beautiful in the full light of day as she was glistening in the moonlight as he’d watched her from her doorway. He swallowed hard and sat up, reaching for her, inhaling the womanly scent of her.
She shivered when his tongue dipped into the hollow of her navel and carved a trail down the sensitive center that fanned out to the downy soft tuft of hair that barely camouflaged the heart of her sex. He teased it with the tip of his tongue and her legs gave way. Holding her tighter around her hips, he drew out the sweet essence of her womanhood onto his lips.
Samantha’s entire body trembled. The soft sounds of her whimpers were a symphony to his ears. He delved deeper and her fingers caught in his hair, her nails biting into his scalp.
“Ch-Chad.” The sound of his name came as a strangled cry that escalated his own excitement.
“Let it go,” he whispered, his breath like fire against her.
“I… Ch-Chad.” She shuddered violently, pressing herself against his mouth as her body took over, leaving her mind. All sense of reason gave way and exploded into a starburst of inexplicable joy.
