Brianne's Secret

by M. S. Parker

  I didn’t want to believe any of it, but I couldn’t deny how well the pieces fit. Clay and his father didn’t hug, but they seemed friendly enough, and for some reason, that irked me more than anything. Almost as if Clay having a good relationship with his father was somehow unfair to me because my relationship with my sister was such a mess.

  I needed to find out exactly what the Kurth men knew and how it connected to everyone and everything else. That meant conversation, and the fastest way to initiate that was to go straight to Clay.

  My pulse sped up, and I couldn’t lie to myself that it was in anticipation of writing the story. I wanted to talk to Clay. I wanted to make things right with him. I might end up having to use him to find the truth, but if that was the case, I’d go into it with my eyes open and accept responsibility. Just like I was going to do the right thing now – even if my motivation wasn’t entirely pure – and apologize for going through his phone and calling Sofie. Besides, if I went over now, I’d be able to greet Congressman Kurth in a completely innocuous way.

  I quickened my pace but made sure to keep my stride natural as I changed my trajectory to allow me to pass near the Kurths, but not be in direct line with them. I couldn’t let Clay know I’d seen him with Ganesh and had then followed him here. Intentionally planning to deceive him didn’t sit right with me, but I reminded myself that things between us would’ve ended even if I hadn’t gotten into his phone. I’d let myself forget that for a while during those weeks in Costa Rica, and the hope that had started to take root at that time still tried to assert itself. It was a dangerous thing, that kind of hope.

  And I didn’t have time for it.

  I pushed aside all thoughts that weren’t about the story and let my gaze casually slide over to where Clay and his father were still standing, chatting. A smile spread across my face, and I was surprised to find that it was only partially fake.

  “Clay!” I hurried over to them, suddenly worried that he’d pretend not to see or hear me. “Congressman Kurth.”

  A puzzled expression passed over the older man’s face before recognition landed. “Tess, right? Tess Gardener.”

  I stuck out my hand. “Yes, sir. It’s been a long time.”

  “That it has.” He glanced at Clay, and I could see the wheels turning behind those bright blue eyes. “What brings you to DC?”

  “That’s a good question,” Clay said, his tone flat.

  I let myself look at him but refused to let any emotion cross my features as I did so. “I was actually hoping to talk to Clay for a minute.”

  “We’re meeting my mother for lunch,” Clay said, taking a hard look at his watch. “I don’t think I have–”

  “I’ll call Barbara and let her know we’ll be a few minutes late.” Clinton gave me that charming politician’s smile, and I was hard-pressed to remember what I suspected him of. “Unless you’d like to come with us?”

  “She’s busy,” Clay said before I could decline the invitation.

  “I understand,” Clinton said, his expression warm.

  For the first time, I was struck by how much Clay would look like his father as he aged. They had slightly different-colored eyes, and Clay’s hair was longer, wilder, but other than that, I could be looking at the same man nearly thirty years apart.

  “Thank you for the invitation though,” I said.

  “Do you have plans on Wednesday night?” Clinton gave Clay a look that I took to mean he wanted me to answer for myself.

  “Not at all.”

  “Wonderful.” Clinton patted my shoulder, a gesture that would’ve felt condescending and awkward from anyone else but managed to be just the right amount of affection from him. “We’re having a fundraiser on Wednesday evening at our DC home. Barbara is involved with a truly superb charity that provides school supplies to students in low-income areas as well as technology to those schools unable to afford it. We would love for you to come.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I agreed before turning back to Clay. “A word?”

  He clenched his jaw, the muscle twitching as he gave a single brisk nod. We moved a few feet away, and he motioned for me to continue.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Those were the important words to get out first. No matter how things played out from here, I needed to make sure he understood that I was sincerely sorry for abusing his trust like I had. It occurred to me that if he found out I’d come to the decision to apologize because of my suspicions regarding his father, nothing I could ever say or do would be enough to earn his forgiveness.

  Nonetheless, I continued, “It doesn’t matter what reasons I had. Snooping on your phone was unacceptable. If I had questions, I should have just asked.”

  I didn’t add that one of the reasons I hadn’t asked him the questions haunting me was simple…I hadn’t been sure I was able to trust him to tell me everything I needed to know. That would just start a whole other argument.

  “Thank you,” he said begrudgingly. “And I could have shared more with you from the first. Maybe then you wouldn’t have felt like you needed to snoop.”

  I nodded as we fell silent, the tension between us awkward. I’d said what I’d come to say, and I’d gotten an invitation to a DC fundraiser where I could investigate more than just Congressman Kurth. That was more than I’d hoped. Still, I didn’t walk away. Not yet.

  It wasn’t business that made me blurt out the words that had been hiding in my head. It had nothing to do with my story and everything to do with the emptiness that had been gnawing at me since we’d fought in Costa Rica.

  “If you want to stop by my hotel room to talk…or whatever, I’ll be back there in a couple hours and then stay in all night.” I gave him my hotel name and room number, then hurried away before I could take it back.

  My heart was racing as I rubbed my sweaty palms against my jeans. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hope that he’d come to see me or if it’d be better for him to keep his distance, but now that the invitation was out there, what happened next was in his hands. All I could do was continue my investigation and wait to see what happened next.

  Fifteen

  Clay

  “I don’t mean to sound as if I’m complaining, but you don’t seem happy to be spending time with us.”

  My mother’s words weren’t harsh, but I felt the sting of them all the same. Both of my parents were trying hard not to talk about the things that caused tension between us. Like why I was still working for the FBI and not cashing in on the notoriety I’d gotten for my work and starting a run for office. Any office. They loved me, but they didn’t understand me.

  They deserved better than the half-assed attention I was giving them.

  “Sorry.” I smiled at them both. “It’s not you guys. It’s just been a long few weeks, and the crazy isn’t over yet.”

  My parents exchanged a look, but it was my father who spoke this time. “We’ve been hearing some strange rumors about some Americans getting into trouble in Central America. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  I considered the question, then leaned forward, almost resting my elbows on the table before I remembered how many times I’d gotten scolded for doing that exact thing growing up. I set my forearms down instead and folded my hands to keep from fidgeting.

  “I took a trip to Costa Rica as a favor to a colleague,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “When I arrived, I ran into an old friend.”

  “Tess,” Father said. He glanced at Mother. “Tess Gardener. She’s in DC, and I invited her to the fundraiser on Wednesday.”

  Mother frowned, but then recognition dawned. “That family from all those years ago? The ones who ran away from that cop?”

  “The ones who were my friends. Who needed my help.” My words had an edge to them. “But we’re not talking about the past. Well, not the distant past anyway. Tess and I arrived in Costa Rica in January. We stayed there until yesterday when we flew into LAX. My partner messaged me and asked me to meet
him here.”

  There was silence for several seconds, and I realized that they were waiting for me to tell them more. I only had two more words for them on this subject though.

  “Plausible deniability.”

  They exchanged another look, and then Father nodded. Just like that, we moved on to a different subject.

  The air outside had dropped several degrees by the time we left the restaurant, but I didn’t take up either of my parents on their offer for a ride to wherever I was going next. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to walk as it was I didn’t know where to go. I’d talked to Secretary Ganesh, and I knew I was on the right track, but I wasn’t sure what the next step was.

  I said my goodbyes to my parents and started down the sidewalk on my own. I had things to do, but my mind wouldn’t let me focus on any of them. All I kept seeing was Tess’s face when she’d approached me earlier today. The smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The apology that sounded sincere, that I wanted to believe, but didn’t quite accept.

  And the invitation that every fiber of me wanted to take up even as I understood that I should approach her with caution. This bond we’d re-forged had come during a time of stress and chaos. Those sorts of things rarely survived in the real world.

  But I wanted it to. I’d missed Tess for so long that I hadn’t realized how much the feeling was a part of me until I’d had her again.

  I’d over-reacted about the phone thing. It wasn’t okay that she’d gone through my phone, but it hadn’t been as big of a deal as I’d made it. I could’ve made things go a whole different way, a way that would’ve allowed the two of us to still be together. Instead, I’d let something so small blow us up, letting me walk away as the wronged party, as if that would make things hurt less.

  It hadn’t.

  I felt like a part of me was missing.

  And I knew where to find it.

  I wasn’t even consciously aware of making the decision to go to the hotel where she was staying. All I knew was I got out of a taxi, and there I was. I went inside and walked straight past the desk. I didn’t need a reminder of the room number. It had been burned into my brain from the moment she’d said it.

  I stood in front of the door for a moment, then raised my hand to knock. My stomach twisted into knots as I waited for her to answer. If she’d regretted asking me over, if she’d changed her mind, it was going to hurt like hell.

  She opened the door, and some of the tension eased. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes down as she motioned for me to come inside. As I stepped past her, I caught a whiff of mint. She must’ve gone shopping since we’d gotten back and picked up her usual shampoo. She had different clothes too. With her hair down, feet bare, and wearing a long-sleeved, mid-thigh length t-shirt, she looked young. Too young. I reminded myself that she was only two years younger than me, which was still older than Rona.

  “Did you have a nice lunch with your parents?” she asked, scuffing her feet back and forth on the carpet.

  “I did.” I closed the door behind me. “But I didn’t come here to talk about my parents.”

  She looked up at me, her eyes wide, filled with the sort of hopeful light that made my heart skip a beat. “Why are you here?”

  “Did you mean what you said?” I asked, feeling oddly vulnerable with the question. “When you apologized?”

  “I did.” She reached out and put her hand on my arm, fingers tightening. “I do.”

  My hand tangled in her hair as I pulled her to me. Our mouths crashed together, and something inside me clicked into place. She grabbed the front of my shirt, using it to pull her body as close to mine as she could. I dropped my hands to her hips, lifting her off her feet.

  It never ceased to amaze me, how she seemed so delicate, so fragile, but was tougher and stronger than a lot of the FBI agents I’d worked with. Desire vibrated from her, and I felt my own cells matching the frequency, as if the two of us were in tune, in sync, two parts of the same whole. The need to be inside her was overwhelming.

  “Fuck…” I groaned into her mouth. “Tess, you drive me crazy.”

  “Likewise,” she breathed before nipping my jaw. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

  “I want…I want…I want…” Words failed me.

  She flicked her tongue against my earlobe and whispered, “Tell me what you want to do to me, Clay. The things you’ve dreamed of since we were teenagers.”

  I closed my eyes as the blood drained from my head straight to my cock. “Fuck, Tess, the things I’ve fantasized about…I want to fuck you hard and fast until you scream my name. Use your body for my pleasure. Keep you on the edge until you’re crying and begging for release. Make you come over and over until it hurts. Mark your skin with my mouth until everyone knows you belong to me. I should want to protect you from men who want to do the sorts of things I want to do to you, but the only thing I keep thinking is that I should be the only man who gets to know what it feels like to have your pussy wrapped tight around my cock. Hell, it makes me crazy, thinking of any other man touching you.”

  She stepped out of my embrace, and I thought I’d gone too far.

  Then she reached down, grasped the bottom of the t-shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

  Fuck, that was hot. Tight, high breasts tipped with pebbled nipples. A tiny waist and only the slightest swell of hips. The sparse covering of dark curls between slender but strong legs.

  I’d never really thought of myself as being attracted to a specific physical type, but at this moment, I realized that I’d always dated tall, athletic or curvy women. Sometimes they were brunettes, but more often they were blondes or redheads. This wasn’t a case of me going against type though. No, I now understood that I’d actually been trying to avoid finding someone who reminded me of Tess. Not that I hadn’t been attracted to the women in my past, but I’d never wanted any of them the way I wanted her.

  I moved toward her, a primal thrill going through me when she took a step backward. She was smiling, her eyes glowing with familiar lust, and I trusted that if she didn’t want this, she’d let me know. Her back hit the wall, and I closed the distance between us quickly, immediately going to my knees in front of her when I was close enough. I kept my gaze locked on hers as I reached for her, my hands curling around her thighs. Her lips parted on a gasp when she realized what I was going to do, bringing a smile to my face.

  I yanked her legs toward me, hooking her knees over my shoulders as I wedged my body between her thighs. The wall at her back supported the rest of her weight, and her head thudded against it, eyes closing as I ran my tongue up her slit. She tasted clean and fresh, without a hint of soap residue to mask her natural flavor. Damn, I could keep my face buried in her cunt for the rest of my life and die a happy man.

  She whimpered as I moved my tongue between her lips, parting her folds to allow me access to her core. I circled her entrance, teased up near her clit, getting close to the places she wanted me most, but not giving attention to the more sensitive flesh. I’d meant what I’d said about wanting to take her hard and fast, but that was for later. Right now, I wanted to make her beg.

  Her fingers dug into my hair, twisting and tugging as I worked. I let her moans and how hard she pulled my hair guide me to all the right places…or rather, I let it keep me from visiting those places too often.

  “Clay…” she whined, trying to move her hips, to force me where she wanted me. “Let me come.”

  I smiled, then bit the inside of her thigh, chuckling when she yelped. “Beg for it.”

  “What?” Her voice was thick, muddled.

  “I want you to beg,” I said, raising my head enough to see her flushed face, her half-lidded eyes. “Beg me to let you come.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Won’t do it.”

  I laughed, letting the vibration move through my mouth and into her skin, her body. A shudder ran through her. I flicked the tip of my tongue against her clit, and s
he cursed. She wouldn’t hold out long.

  Her thighs tightened around my head, determined to keep me in place. I dipped my tongue inside her, felt the wetness of her arousal. She squirmed, and I gripped her hips harder.

  “I’m not gonna beg.” Her words slurred together and the muscles resting on my shoulders quivered.

  She was fighting.

  I wrapped my lips around her swollen clit, and her back arched. She cried out, hands striking the wall, and I circled the nub of nerves with my tongue, pausing each time I felt her getting close.

  “Damn you, Clay!” The words burst out of her in frustration. “Please, let me come. I need to come. I’m begging you…”

  I sucked hard on her clit, and her whole body went stiff. I felt her orgasm rip through her with the sort of violence that could only be brought by a true little death. She made no sounds aside from the harshness of her breathing, as if it was all she could do to draw in air.

  I held her in place until her muscles relaxed, then eased her into my arms. As she leaned her head against my chest, she murmured, “Payback’s going to be a bitch.”

  “Fuck fuck fuck fuck!!” I pulled on the sheets hard enough to strain the seams.

  Tess laughed as she straightened, dark curls falling over her shoulders to brush the tips of her nipples. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks red; she’d earned every bit of both. She’d been going down on me for the last thirty minutes, taking me to the brink of climax and then backing off. My cock looked ridiculous, sticking straight up in the air, throbbing, nearly purple, and my balls ached, the pressure in my belly approaching the painful point.

  “Not so much fun when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?” she asked, trailing her fingers over my stomach.