Yours in Scandal

by Layne, Lauren

  He’d been grateful. For her. For Kenny’s under-the-breath cracks designed to distract him. For the constant crowd of people who’d provided endless diversions all night.

  And yet he’d never realized just how alone one could feel in a crowd of people. For all the good intentions, nobody had been able to ease the ache inside him. He wasn’t even sure anyone was aware of the ache.

  It was now three a.m., and he was dangerously close to cracking.

  Robert bade a distracted good night to Charlie and the others on his security detail for the night, then entered the sanctity of the private living space of Gracie Mansion.

  He shut the door and leaned against it, waiting for the usual sense of respite from the job that came with retreating to his private quarters. As he’d told Adeline, it had never precisely felt homey, and yet it was home—the only one he’d known for eight years.

  Tonight, however, it offered little comfort. Tonight, it was yet another reminder that this stage of his life—what felt like his whole life—was at an end. In a couple of months, this would be someone else’s home. Olivo would be sworn in in January, and Robert would be able to commit himself fully to the campaign trail.

  If he won, it’d be off to the governor’s mansion. Another job, another challenge, another home.

  If he lost, he’d shift gears. Focus on another job, another challenge, another home . . .

  And then what?

  The thought nagged.

  Looking ahead, all he could see was more elections. More terms. Followed by more elections, and then more terms . . .

  Is that all there is?

  Robert let out an irritated grunt at the haunting, meddlesome voice in the back of his mind. A voice that hadn’t been there until recently, a voice that had only gotten louder after he’d met Adeline and let himself wonder what it would be like to do this whole thing with someone. To have a partner, not for show, but for real.

  To have not a Rosalie. But an Adeline. An Addie.

  He gave a harsh laugh as he poured himself a stiff drink from the sideboard. He didn’t have Adeline. Or Addie. It didn’t matter what he called her; the woman didn’t even trust him enough to tell him her real name. And maybe she shouldn’t. He hadn’t exactly entered into their arrangement as an open book himself.

  “You always laugh alone in the dark?”

  Robert pivoted at the sound of the soft, familiar voice, his eyes searching through the shadows of his living room until he saw Adeline sitting on a tufted chair, legs crossed, posture relaxed, as though she belonged there.

  “How the hell—”

  “Kenny,” she said, standing.

  Robert continued to stare as she walked slowly toward him, registering he must be more tired than he’d originally realized, because he was having trouble comprehending her presence. “He called you?”

  “I called him,” Adeline said softly, stopping in front of him. She was wearing jeans and a baggy sweater that made her seem younger. Softer.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I saw you on TV.” Adeline slowly reached out and pulled the untouched bourbon from his hand and set it back on the sideboard.

  “And? You realized your days of being able to claim personal acquaintance of the mayor of New York City were limited?” he asked, a little more snidely than intended, taking his raw emotions out on her because she was here.

  “Not quite.” She stepped closer, and before he could register her intention, slim arms wrapped around his waist, pulling his taller frame to hers.

  He froze for a second, taking an embarrassingly long time to register the sweet, simple gesture for what it was. A hug.

  One that packed a surprising wallop of comfort. Comfort he so desperately needed . . .

  His arms closed around her, crushing her close and unapologetically absorbing every ounce of solace and consolation her arms offered.

  She said nothing, only wrapped her arms tighter, her cheek pressed to his chest as though it belonged there. His chin rested on the top of her head as though it belonged there.

  As though they belonged to each other.

  He closed his eyes and felt the slight burn between his eyelids as he gave in to the emotions he’d been trying to keep at bay all night. Pride at what he’d accomplished over eight years. Grief that it was over. Relief that the man appointed as his successor seemed the decent sort. Uncertainty over what was to come. Sadness that he’d be facing it alone.

  No, that wasn’t right. Sadness that he’d be facing it without her.

  When he opened his eyes, he felt decidedly steadier, as though her mere presence had absorbed his turmoil and smoothed out the roughest edges of it, allowing him to focus on what mattered most in this moment.

  That she was here.

  Robert ran a hand up her back. “Why’d you come?”

  “You cracked your knuckles,” she said, not lifting her face from his chest. “Just once, when Olivo was giving his speech and you were off to the side of the camera with Rosalie.”

  His hand paused for a moment, startled to realize that he’d been distracted enough to show that much emotion when there were cameras in the room. More surprised to know that Adeline had recognized the gesture for what it was.

  He tensed a little at the mention of her friend, wondered if it had bothered her that Rosalie had been there, then remembered Rosalie had hinted that Adeline had all but insisted she attend. At the time, he’d assumed it was merely Adeline throwing Rosalie up as a barrier between them, but now he wondered if it had been more than that. If she hadn’t sent Rosalie to be there for him in public, in a way she herself couldn’t be.

  Robert eased away so he could see her face, and the softness in her usually guarded gaze told him he was right. He lifted his hand, touching a thumb gently to her cheekbone, the softness of her skin nearly undoing him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she whispered.

  The quiet darkness and the warmth of her embrace had offered comfort just moments earlier, but as their gazes locked and held—and held—the air around them seemed to change, becoming charged with the most primal of needs.

  He slowly lowered his head, holding her gaze until the last possible moment when their lips touched, watching her eyes flutter closed, feeling his own close as he let touch and taste become his dominant senses.

  Her mouth had been sweet with chocolate when he’d kissed her on Halloween, and it was even sweeter this time, simply because it was her. Sweet, and hot, with the little nip of spice that he’d come to associate with Adeline Blake, the promise that he could never, ever become bored with her.

  On Saturday night, she’d been warring with herself, not wanting to want him. He’d been frustrated by it, even as he’d understood it all too well.

  Tonight, neither of them fought it. She opened herself to him fully, and he took it. All the way.

  Robert’s hands slid beneath her sweater, smiling against her mouth as he registered that this ugly sweater was every bit as attractive to him as the sexy, ridiculous nurse outfit had been. His smile faded as he realized it wasn’t the clothes that mattered, but the woman beneath them. A woman who was apparently irresistible to him. Dangerous.

  She lifted her arms over her head, her blue eyes issuing a silent challenge. Danger accepted.

  His hands found the hem of her sweater, lifting it up and over her head, careful not to tangle it in her long hair as he tossed it aside.

  “I like your hair like this,” he said, running his fingers through the length of it.

  A little smile curved her lips. “I’m standing topless in front of you, and you care about my hair?”

  I care about all if it.

  Still, the man in him couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting down to her chest, unable to stifle the groan at the sight of her without a top, her bra half-tangled around her torso.

  The bra was red, lace, low-cut, and clearly intended to kill him.

  “Jesus,” he muttered, running a finger over the top s
well of her breast, male satisfaction tightening his stomach when her breath caught. “Please say this is just for me.”

  “It’s for me,” she said. Then her gaze softened. “But tonight it might be a little bit for you, too.”

  Rewarding her for the admission, he bent his head to her breasts, wanting to tell her that her body was perfect—absolutely, sinfully perfect—but instead putting his mouth to better use, trailing kisses along the upper edge of the lace, teasing her as he had the other night, wanting to hear her beg again.

  He didn’t have to wait long. She whimpered in need, her hands coming to the back of his neck as he unhooked the delicate bra, tossing it alongside her sweater as he worshipped her beautiful breasts with his mouth.

  She was built like every man’s fantasy, he realized, as his hands explored her small waist, drifting farther to the swell of her hips. As he dropped to his knees, his fingers found the button of her jeans. He looked up to find her watching him, her expression uncertain for the first time since she’d come to him tonight.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered, unfastening the button slowly, then pausing, waiting to see if she wanted him stop.

  Her eyes closed, and her ragged breath egged him on.

  Pressing a kiss just below her navel, he slowly slid her jeans down, groaning as he saw the V of her underwear matched the bra.

  She helped him by kicking her shoes off and stepping out of the jeans, then froze when he slowly dragged the pad of his finger over the tiny scrap of lace. He nearly came undone at the realization that she was already wet.

  Her eyes closed again as he teased her over the fabric, and he pulled his finger away, waiting for her eyes to open again, smiling at the frustrated scowl.

  “Watch me,” he commanded.

  Her eyes narrowed but didn’t close as he touched her again, this time more firmly. Back and forth, round and round, he circled her through the fabric of the panties, holding her gaze the entire time.

  His breath was no steadier than hers when he finally dragged the lace down her legs. Her eyes closed again when he slid a finger into the seam of her sex, and he froze, waiting until she opened them once more.

  “Watch me,” he repeated, needing her eyes on him, needing her to know he was an absolute slave to her, worshipping everything she was.

  He leaned forward, his tongue touching between her legs, and she cried out, her head falling back. Robert could have punished her for looking away by pulling away, but he’d be punishing himself as well, because he’d never wanted anything like he wanted to taste her, to bring her pleasure so intense she’d never forget him, or this moment.

  He teased her with light strokes of his tongue, tormented her with his finger until she was gasping. Finally, he circled with his tongue in the exact spot that made her cry out. She came against his mouth with an unapologetic shout that his security detail could probably hear, but he didn’t care, because she didn’t care. For the first time, he sensed she was fully exposed to him, body and soul, and his chest tightened with the magnitude of the moment.

  She was still breathing hard when he finally stood. He meant to carry her to the bed to let her catch her breath, but she lifted her hands to his shoulders with purpose.

  Robert let her shove the suit jacket off his shoulders, let her yank at the tie, helped her make quick work of his cuff links and the buttons.

  His shoes, socks, and pants were gone just as fast, and she reached eagerly for the bulge beneath his briefs, but he snagged her wrist and lifted her hand to his lips, giving her knuckles a quick kiss. “I’ve got about a month of wanting you built up. This could be over quickly, and I want to be inside you.”

  It was somewhere between a question and a plea, and she smiled in understanding, leaning forward to kiss his mouth as her free hand explored his chest. “Condom?”

  Anticipation made him a little rough as he pulled her toward the bedroom, releasing her wrist only when she was on the bed, spread out to him like the most delicious gift he’d ever received.

  He lowered on top of her, hands finding her face, lips claiming her mouth as he settled above her, nudging her opening. Even now, he couldn’t satiate his need to see her, so he pulled back slightly, watching her eyes as he pushed forward.

  Her eyes closed halfway, her chest rising and falling as her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on. Only when he was all the way inside her did his eyes finally close, and he buried his face in her neck, registering that her body clamped around his was the most perfect sensation of his entire life.

  He pulled all the way back, then thrust forward again, hard. She met his every move as he cupped her butt, thrusting harder, faster, until he took them both over the edge with unapologetic ownership of her body, even as he gave his own body over to her.

  Neither moved for minutes after, until she finally gave his shoulder a half-hearted shove. “Heavy,” she muttered.

  With the last bit of his strength, he rolled off her, though he kept one arm around her to keep her close.

  She didn’t try to pull away, but after several moments of drowsy silence, she dragged a finger over his biceps. “I have to leave,” she whispered. “I’ve got to be at work in just a couple hours, and we can’t let anyone find me here.”

  It was a dose of reality he didn’t want, but probably needed. Starting today, everyone’s attention would shift away from the mayoral race of yesterday, and on to the governor’s race of next year.

  A governor’s race in which he’d be running against a man whose daughter he’d just ravished, a daughter who’d nearly cost her father an election.

  A woman who could very likely cost Robert the election.

  Most terrifying of all, a woman who was making him want something more than the election.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thursday, November 5

  Adeline had a plan. A good plan.

  A sexy plan.

  The plan had not accounted for rain. Or forgetting her umbrella.

  “Hey, Darlene,” she said to Robert’s assistant, lifting her hand to her hair and wincing when she realized her bun was wet enough to be wrung out. “Is the mayor in?”

  He’d told her this morning that he had the afternoon free, and she was hoping he hadn’t booked any last-minute appointments.

  “Ms. Blake! It’s so good to see you. I didn’t have a chance to tell you at the party how impressed I was. My husband usually hates those things, but he declared it the best party yet. I think it helped that he dominated anyone who dared to take him up on his Battleship challenge.”

  Adeline smiled. “I’m so glad he had a good time.”

  “Give me one sec, let me check the mayor’s schedule . . . Looks like he’s got a break between meetings. I’ll see if he has a few minutes. Can I get you some tea first?”

  Adeline looked knowingly down at her bedraggled appearance. “That bad, huh?”

  Darlene smiled. “I heard there were going to be downpours today.”

  “Well, that makes one of us. I would have killed for an umbrella.”

  “At least you’re wearing your trench coat!”

  At least.

  “Some tea would be great,” she told Darlene. Not because she particularly wanted it, but because her plan necessitated the element of surprise, and Darlene announcing her arrival would mess that up.

  “Give me just one second, and I’ll fetch it myself,” Darlene said, standing. “I swear, I thought things would be less busy around here after the election, but it’s been chaos all week.”

  Adeline smiled in response, waiting until Darlene disappeared from sight before slipping around her desk and knocking on Robert’s door.

  “Yeah.”

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stuck her head in, hoping to find him alone.

  Robert was behind his desk, forehead propped on his hand as he read something on his tablet. He looked up, then did a double take. The slow smile that spread over his face was worth getting caught in the
downpour.

  “Hey. Come on in.”

  She stepped into the office as he came around his desk, his hands already reaching for her even as the door clicked shut.

  “Darlene’s bringing me tea,” she said with a laugh that quickly turned to a moan as his lips found her neck beneath the collar of her jacket.

  His teeth nipped gently against her throat as he reached behind her, locking the door with a flick of his thumb.

  “Mr. Mayor—”

  “Still with that? You’ve seen me naked. I think we’re in a first-name kind of place,” he said, his lips closing over hers.

  She melted into the kiss, absorbing his warmth as she forgot about the rain, the tea, and the upcoming election. She forgot everything except how good it felt to be with him. To be in his arms, to feel his tongue slide against hers.

  His fingers found the knot of her coat and tugged, but she grabbed his wrists and wiggled away with a laugh. “Wait. Darlene really did go to fetch me tea.”

  “Fuck the tea,” he growled, lowering his head to hers again.

  She set her fingers over his lips. “Let’s just wait until she brings it in. Then we can tell her we’re in a meeting.”

  He went still for a moment. “A meeting.”

  “You can say you’re hiring me to plan another party. Do you have a birthday coming up?”

  “No.” His voice was a little curt, and he stepped away from her.

  She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t do backroom meetings, Adeline. I definitely don’t want to do backroom hookups.”

  “This is your office. Hardly—”

  “You know what I mean. You’re ashamed of this.”

  She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “You think I’m ashamed of you? Mr. Perfect?”

  He winced. “That’s what you think of me?”

  She reached out a hand with a teasing smile. “Well, you are Man of the Year. But what I’m thinking is I want to keep you all to myself—to keep this thing just between us.”