A Scandalous Affair

by Donna Hill

  He held her, kept up the agonizing pleasure until she was certain she would lose her mind, and then she was on the bed. Chad was braced above her, his body between her parted thighs. Her head spun, her breathing out of control, her body singing, wanting something else, something more. And he gave it to her, slowly, little by little, until he filled her, not only with his body but with a sense of elation and completeness that she’d never before experienced.

  The power of their union captured him, too. It stunned him in a way that could not be explained. He felt as if his soul had left his body and entered hers. They were as one unit, one soul, one body. Joined not of flesh, but of spirit. And the purity of it, the exquisiteness of it, filled his entire being, ravaged his mind, and he knew from this moment forward he, they, would never be the same.

  Samantha raised her legs to drape them around his waist, and he sunk deeper into the volcanic heat of her, nearly crying out from the pleasure of it.

  Chad’s lips found hers, tenderly kissing them, teasing them as he moved with a maddening slowness, needing desperately to hold on to this moment, this time. But Samantha wanted him, wanted him like she’d never wanted anything. She wanted to know what that moment between them would be. She needed to experience it as much as she needed to breathe. She arched her hips, rotated them like a disk on a turntable and he did cry out, a deep guttural sound that sent an erotic chill down her spine. Again and again and again.

  The pleasure mounted until they were no more than conduits of sensation. And then, all at once, his sex found and touched that secret place deep in the heart of her. A cry ripped from her throat. Her body trembled as if shot with a bolt of electric current, and her walls clutched him, gripped and released him, draining him as the final surge of pleasure roared through him and into her.

  They lay still, unable to move, their breathing coming in quick, labored bursts, both still caught in the rapture of what had passed between them.

  With trembling fingers, Chad brushed her damp locks away from her face, traced the arch of her brows, mesmerized by the glimmer in her eyes, the ethereal glow that radiated from her. “It…it’s never been that way before,” he confessed, his voice hoarse and ragged.

  “I know,” she said simply, grazing her thumb across his lips. “For me either.”

  Reluctantly he withdrew from her warmth and eased onto his side. She turned to face him.

  “Still want to leave?” she asked him, her tone teasing and wanton.

  “I’d be crazy to leave you. But I can’t just move in.”

  Briefly she closed her eyes, then looked at him, studying his serious expression. “You really are the gentleman you present yourself to be, aren’t you?”

  “Did you really think I was something else? That it was all just for show?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t know. I…I’ve never met anyone like you, Chad. Most men wouldn’t have given a second thought to just jumping into the sack, no commitment, no promises.”

  The simple words struck a painful chord of the familiar. He turned away and sat up. “I try not to be like…everyone else.”

  Samantha watched the subtle metamorphosis, the retreat to some place she was shut out of. And she wasn’t sure why, what she’d said or done. She reached out and touched his back and he flinched as if stung.

  “What?” she asked, a sense of dark foreboding seeping into her pores.

  He shook his head. “Nothing, babe. Everything’s cool,” he said, hating to lie to her. But he could never tell her about the untied threads that still haunted him, kept him from turning himself completely over to anyone. And until he did, it would always be this way—beautiful, mind-blowing and unattainable.

  Chapter 35

  Simone took one last look at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door. The ankle-length gown of black silk with a sheer mesh overslip, studded with tiny droplets of rhinestones that glittered like a constellation when she moved, slid gently over her curves.

  She’d decided to wear her hair up off her neck and away from her face, her beauty accented by a band of rhinestones that matched the dress and the studs in her ears. As usual, she wore little makeup, just enough to highlight her eyes with a brush of black mascara, a sweep of blush for her cheeks and a thin coat of pecancolored lipstick.

  She stepped into her backless black heels and picked up her beaded purse from the dresser. A last-minute inventory of her appearance assured her that nothing had been left to chance. Taking a deep breath, she stepped from her room and descended the stairs. Adam was waiting for her.

  The seductive scent of her perfume drifted to him, alerting him to her approach. He turned from his seat on the couch and looked up. She was a vision of classic black elegance. Slowly he stood, watching her graceful descent. This was his woman, all his, and a wave of guilt engulfed him. He didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve a gorgeous woman like Simone Montgomery. She was everything he could possibly want in a woman, everything he’d always imagined he would one day have. And now that he did, he—

  “How do I look?” she gently asked, smothering his searing thoughts.

  “Incredible, incredible,” he said in a hushed voice.

  She crossed the room to stand in front of him, reached up and straightened his black bow tie. “I’d almost forgotten how wonderful you look in a tux.” She smiled. “Remember those galas in the early days?” she asked, stirring up memories of the past. “We were so eager to please then. Make the right contacts, be seen at the right places, even if we couldn’t afford to be there.” She laughed lightly at the recollection of their primordial beginnings.

  “Networking is at the heart of everything. It’s more important than what you know. It’s all about who can do something for you. Get you what you want, help you get where you want to go. Bottom line.”

  She looked at him curiously for a moment, surprised at the sudden cynical tone in his voice. “I suppose that’s true,” she said haltingly. “But hopefully not for everyone.” Her gaze trailed over his face, searching, for what she wasn’t sure. “Hopefully, we do this thing of ours because it’s what we believe in. That we hope to make a difference. Even if it’s small.”

  He turned away, crossed to the coffee table and picked up his drink of Jack Daniels over ice. “Very altruistic, Simone. But the reality is none of us would be where we are without the right support, without the right amount of money and without saying the right thing—whatever that may be.”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  He took a long swallow of his drink, shook his head and pushed out a long breath. “Not everyone has a silver spoon in their mouths, Simone. Some of us have to claw our way out of the ditches by any means necessary. Sometimes it’s not pretty. Sometimes it goes against everything we hold sacred. But we do it anyway.” He finished off his drink and had an overwhelming urge for another, but knew it was a lousy idea. He needed a clear head.

  Simone frowned. “Wh-what are you saying, that I had it easy?” she asked incredulously. “That I somehow compromise my values to get ahead—get a vote?”

  He held up his hands, knowing he’d gone too far. “Hey, forget it. I guess I was getting too philosophical for my own good. Tonight’s your night, baby. Not the time to dwell on some craziness running through my head for a minute. It’s just listening to all the rhetoric by McCall and people like him.” He came to her and raised her chin up with the tip of his finger. “You have more integrity than anyone I know. I mean that. And I love you. I mean that, too.” He took a breath. “Now, if we don’t get going you’re going to be late to your own fundraising event.” He tenderly kissed her lips, held her for a moment longer before slowly releasing her.

  Simone hesitated, slightly off-balance by this seesaw ride she’d been tossed onto with Adam. But he was right. This was her night to shine, and she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by anyone or anything, not even Adam Parsons. Whatever it was that was really eating at him, they’d talk about later.r />
  “You’re right. Tonight is what’s important. Has the car arrived?”

  “About fifteen minutes ago.”

  She slipped her arm through the crook of his, kissed him lightly on the cheek and they headed out.

  “Oh, how I remember my first major fundraiser that my parents threw for me,” Vaughn said wistfully as the car carrying her and Justin pulled up in front of the Hilton Hotel and lined up behind the other vehicles waiting to be parked. “I dreaded it.”

  “You’d never know it,” Justin returned. “You were the epitome of cool,” he teased.

  “You made quite an impression yourself.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and smiled mischievously, remembering his daring move of stepping out in front of her car when she was leaving the affair. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “Yeah, but the aftereffect was well worth it.”

  “Touché, counselor.” She sighed. “At least we’re not doing to Simone what my parents did with me. This was her decision to run for office. It wasn’t thrust upon her.”

  Justin turned off the powerful engine of the midnight blue Jag. “True. But politics is in your blood, Vaughn. You have to admit that. You’re a natural. There’s no getting around the fact that Elliot Hamilton had his own vision of what he wanted for his daughter, but he wasn’t too far off the mark, even if I can’t agree with his methods.”

  “He nearly destroyed our relationship with his meddling and manipulating,” she answered, feeling the old sensations of hurt begin to surface. Although her father had passed nearly three years earlier, the sting of what he’d attempted to do to her life still burned at times.

  Justin leaned over and kissed her forehead. “But he didn’t, babe. We survived in spite of him.”

  “I know, I know. And tonight is not the time to dwell on the past,” she said, perking up. “I just hope the evening proceeds without a hitch and there are no more accidents. Those girls have been through enough in the past weeks.”

  “Security is tight. And your guy seems to know what he’s doing,” he added, referring to the pair of Secret Service agents assigned to her once the threats had hit the papers. “I’m sure everything will be fine, and Simone will shine like the star she is.”

  A valet tapped on Justin’s side of the window. He exited the car and dropped the keys in the young man’s hands. Rounding the front, he took his wife’s hand and headed inside.

  It was definitely a star-studded event, or at least a politically studded event. All the major Democratic players were in the main ballroom, milling about and making sure they were seen by those who counted. Glitter was everywhere, in lobes, on wrists and around delicate throats. Gowns that could easily take to the runway graced the multitude of womanly figures, and the men wore an assortment from traditional tuxedos to avant garde formal designer wear.

  “Hmm, impressive,” Vaughn said in a mock stage whisper.

  “I’m sure all the publicity has brought out the curious as well as the true supporters.”

  “The more the merrier as long as they put their checks in the collection plate,” Vaughn murmured.

  Justin chuckled and guided her inside, where they were immediately swept up in greetings from their mutual acquaintances, then joined shortly after by Samantha and Chad, who’d just arrived.

  “Great turnout,” Samantha said over the sound of the band slipping into a rendition of “Satin Doll.” All around the room, people were greeting each other, gladhanding, embracing old friends, discussing party politics and the upcoming elections. They were the usual activities seen at affairs like this.

  Chad slid his arm around her waist. “Now all we need is the arrival of the guest of honor and the fun will begin. Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” he whispered in her ear.

  Her entire body flushed, thinking about what had happened between them. She’d worried for hours about what to wear and had finally decided on a short Dior cocktail gown. The strapless bodice in black velvet and the flounced skirt of gold lame and tulle showcased her long legs to perfection. Obviously, by the gleam in Chad’s eye, she’d made the right decision.

  “No, you haven’t,” she responded in answer to his question, gazing up at him. “But you can whisper it in my ear all night long.”

  Justin caught the intimate exchange in a quick glance and wondered just how far their relationship had progressed. But from the glow radiating from his daughter, it wasn’t hard to guess. He could only pray that it would work out for everyone, Simone included.

  A flurry of activity among the press and photographers at the entrance to the hall pulled his and everyone’s attention toward the door. Simone had arrived.

  Vaughn could barely contain her motherly pride as she watched her stunning daughter work the crowd, giving everyone just the right amount of attention, not missing a beat, smiling and shaking hands with the skill of a seasoned politician. Lingering with each guest just long enough to make a lasting impression.

  “She really is good at this,” Vaughn mouthed to Justin as they observed Simone move gracefully through the room, totally unruffled by the flash of cameras and the multitude of questions directed at her.

  “Of course, look at her teacher.” He kissed her forehead and hugged her close to him. Finally, Simone made her way to them, with Adam close behind.

  “Whew. That was like running the gauntlet,” she said, not unkindly.

  “You make it look easy,” Adam assured. “Good evening, everyone,” he said, nodding at the members of the Montgomery clan and Chad. They returned the greeting.

  “Well, this is it, huh?” Simone commented, looking around in amazement at the turnout. “I really didn’t expect this.”

  “People believe in you, sis,” Samantha said, “and want to show their support.”

  “It’s still a bit overwhelming. What a crowd! There has to be at least eight hundred people here. A lot of the old guard and quite a few new faces as well.”

  “At a starting rate of five hundred dollars a plate and up, I’d say you’re going to make out very well,” Adam calculated, his eyes sweeping over the throng gathered in the room.

  “That’s a lot of lobster,” Simone joked.

  “Speaking of which, why don’t we get seated at our table before the festivities begin,” Justin suggested, looking up at the large banner above the podium with a huge portrait of Simone pointing like a true leader into the horizon. “I know everyone must be hungry.”

  All too soon the mistress of ceremonies for the evening, Madelyn Evers, the chairperson for the Women Against Violence, stepped up to the podium, tapped the mic twice and asked for quiet. The talking ceased and all attention was directed to the outspoken woman standing before them.

  “First, I want to begin by thanking all of you for coming out in such great numbers to show your support for our candidate,” she said in well-modulated tones, a voice smooth enough to host a radio show.

  There was a loud flurry of applause.

  Madelyn smiled, waited a moment for the audience to quiet and then she continued. “I feel honored that City Councilmember Montgomery—”

  “Assemblymember Montgomery!” someone shouted from the back of the room. Applause erupted again.

  “Assemblymember Montgomery…” Madelyn continued, humoring the crowd. “We are pleased that she has allowed us to honor her in such a fashion. We know what she has contributed to this community, to our community. As she has done with so many key issues, she has worked tirelessly and fearlessly in her fight against police brutality in the District of Columbia. It is her intention to make sure that not one more life, not one more young black man, is lost to this plague that infects our neighborhoods.”

  More applause.

  “Believe me when I say I could stand here all night and go down the impressive list of her contributions to the residents of D.C., but that would take all night. Her influence is not just felt here in the District but on the Hill as well and throughout the country. I could
go on and on but I won’t. Instead, allow Assemblymember Montgomery to speak for herself. Please, join me in welcoming her.”

  Simone took the speech, written for her by Adam, from her purse and slowly rose to a round of deafening applause. Her family and friends noticed that she didn’t rush to the podium but chose to let the roar of the applause from the faithful swell to almost earsplitting proportions, then arc, diminish, and finally rise to an even higher pitch before dying out. Gracefully, she adjusted the mic, placed the speech on the lectern, and quietly began her recitation of the prepared text.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, for so many of us, the problem of police brutality is not an old one,” she intoned solemnly. “We’ve seen and felt its ugly, vicious presence in our communities for far too long. We saw it on television during the media’s coverage of the bloody campaigns of the civil rights movement as highpressure fire hoses and attack dogs were turned on black protestors only seeking justice. We saw it again when the police went after members of the Black Panther Party, often conducting midnight raids and ambushes that left many of the hunted dead or seriously wounded. We all saw in that infamous videotape of the savage beating by the LAPD of Rodney King, a case that thrust this issue directly into the national consciousness. The newspapers screamed out headlines not long ago about another case involving a Haitian immigrant who was sodomized by officers in a police station. Or yet another case where forty-one shots were fired by police at another unarmed black man as he entered his apartment building. What is going on here? Why has this problem reached such epidemic proportions?”

  Someone yelled out in response, recalling a parishioner from the old sanctified churches: “Teach, sister, tell the truth.” A few laughed at this reminder of what was at the core of most black communities, the black church and its bedrock faith in truth and righteousness. Going home. Back to the roots.