Chapter Ten

 

As soon as the door closed Stephen fell to his knees with her still in his arms, lowering her until her back was on the floor, his jacket spread out beneath her.

His mouth left hers to travel down her neck, biting and kissing her bare skin as though he hadn’t had her for years instead of hours. As though he’d never get enough. Tasha ran her hands through his hair, tightening her legs around his waist and lifting her hips wantonly, trying to show him what she needed.

He growled, his mouth over the black lace of her bra. “Too many clothes.”

“Shred it,” she whispered. “I want your mouth on me.”

He tore a hole in the lace with his fingers and wrapped his lips around her nipple, sucking her hard into his mouth.

“Yes,” she cried, her body already on fire with adrenaline and lust.

He moved away, kissing his way down to her stomach, continuing to caress her breast with one hand and using the other to destroy the lace of her underwear so he could get at her wet sex.

“Oh God, Stephen.”

“Need you,” he moaned, moving lower until his lips were closing over her clit. “Need to taste you.”

Tasha lifted her legs over his shoulders and tugged his head closer. He moaned in response, tracing her folds with his tongue and pressing it against her clit.

“More,” she demanded raggedly. “Please.”

So good. Her hips lifted again. Desperate. She couldn’t get enough of him. Couldn’t get him deep enough to ease the ache inside her.

The sounds he was making when his tongue filled her vibrated against her sensitive skin, making her shudder. “Yes. Oh God, yes. Fuck me. Fuck me, Stephen.”

A pained noise escaped his chest, and then he was leaning over her with her legs still over his shoulders as he reached down to swiftly undo his pants.

That first, hard thrust made them both moan in mindless pleasure. Her hands fell to her sides and Stephen’s covered them, tangling their fingers as he started to move.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” His deep voice was nearly unrecognizable with need. “Too rough.”

“I want it rough,” she assured him, breathless. “I want it hard, Stephen. I need you to fuck me.”

“Jesus.” His hips instantly responded to her demand with a punishing rhythm. “Fuck.”

He lowered his mouth to hover over hers, drinking in her screams as he pumped against her without mercy. His cock filled and stretched her with every stroke, her position leaving her open and helpless to do anything but take whatever he gave her.

Yes.

“Love fucking you,” he growled against her parted lips. “You feel so good, angel. It’s never been this good.”

She had no breath left to talk. All she could do was gasp and squeeze his fingers tightly, holding onto him like a lifeline when his thrusts increased. When she thought he couldn’t go deeper, he did. Deeper…faster…harder… “Oh God!”

Her orgasm caught her by surprise, electricity arcing through her and setting her world on fire. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears. Her lungs were burning, greedy for air. She could feel the powerful contractions inside her clenching around his shaft.

When he made a sound like a roar and froze against her, she knew he felt it too.

“Natasha,” he groaned. “I…Fuck!”

His hips jerked and he was coming— the hot pulse of his release was filling her. Marking her.

Marking her.

Shit.

She was shaking by the time he lifted his head from her neck. His eyes told her he’d come to the same realization, probably at the same time.

He hadn’t used a condom.

He pulled out and stood up, tugging her to her feet with their hands still linked. She tried to move away but he shook his head, walking with her toward the bathroom.

She watched numbly as he turned on the shower and then released her hand to loosen his tie. She glanced over at the mirror—it showed Stephen fully dressed, his thick penis dangling from the open placket of his pants, and her in the tattered remnants of her bra and newly crotchless panties, with semen on her thighs. The image would be a perfect dictionary example for the definition of sordid.

But it hadn’t felt sordid. The way they’d come together had felt inevitable. Necessary.

She’d never made such a dumb mistake.

Naked now, Stephen removed what was left of her underthings and tugged her into the shower beside him. He found her liquid soap and a washcloth and began to lather her body. He smoothed the cloth across shoulders and down her arms, over her breasts, sides, and belly…

Tasha put her hand on his wrist but it didn’t stop him from washing between her legs. Methodically. Tenderly.

“I’m sorry, Natasha,” he said over the sound of rushing water. “If you’re wondering, I’m healthy and this is the first time since I was fifteen that I didn’t use protection.”

She leaned against the tile, her body tingling as he continued to clean away the evidence of their recklessness. “Me too. I mean, I’ve never…and I get checked on a regular basis. Safety first is usually my motto.”

His lips tilted in a soft smile. “It didn’t feel that good. When I was fifteen, I mean. Being inside you was—it was like heaven, Natasha. I’m sorry for being irresponsible, but I won’t lie and say I regret getting to experience that.”

It had been different. Better. There’d been nothing between them…and it couldn’t happen again. “I hope you have a good memory, Senator, because that was a one-time event.”

His smile disappeared. “Of course.”

She looked down pointedly. “I think I’m clean now.”

He’d been massaging her sex with the washcloth as they spoke. Laughing ruefully, he dropped his hand and stepped behind her so she could rinse off.

Tasha pushed her face into the stream of hot water, silently berating herself for letting that happen. How many Rivera cousins were bound to people they’d forgotten to wear a condom with? If you asked her father, Tasha was an accident too. But knowing her mother as well as she did, she wasn’t so sure.

Stephen’s hands dropped to her hips and she felt his erection brush against her back. She turned around, shaking her head in disbelief.

“That’s not possible, Stephen. Did someone slip a blue pill into your water at dinner? Because that,” she pointed at his hardening shaft. “Is not possible.”

He smiled. “You’re forgetting Las Vegas. You were wrong then too.”

Shit. He was a sex machine. “Well stop it.”

“Never.”

She sighed, her body already responding to the possibility of more. “It’s not fair. You’re supposed to rethink your life choices and debate nunneries after a slip-up like this, not contemplate how long it will take to grab a condom so you can go for round two.”

He pulled her closer, his hands cupping her ass and spreading her cheeks. “The nunnery is not for you, angel. But don’t worry. No condom necessary.”

It was clear what he had in mind. “You Finns are all ass men.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “How about you not mentioning other men, particularly my relatives, when I’m seducing you in the shower. Deal?”

“Deal.”

He kissed her shoulder. “I want you more every time, Natasha. How is that possible? You’re addictive.”

“Where do you want me, Senator?”

He reached over her head and grabbed a bottle of lube from the selection of personal care products. “I hate the man, but I approve of his decorating decisions. And I want you sitting on my lap.”

Stephen sat down on the bench seat in the shower and patted his thighs. “Turn around.”

She stared at the fogged up shower door as he massaged the lube between her cheeks and slipped one slick finger inside her. It hit her that no one was submitting or dominating, no one was fighting for control…they were just enjoying each other.

She liked it all. She—

“Oh, Stephen.” He’d added a second finger, scrambling her thoughts. As he pumped them inside her ass, Tasha reached out with both hands for balance, spreading her legs and bending at the waist. “God, that’s…”

“I know.” His voice was low and sinful. He drew his fingers out slowly. “Sit back and straddle my thighs. I can’t wait to feel this luscious ass with nothing between us.”

She lowered herself cautiously, letting Stephen guide her. When she felt the head of his bare cock she shivered, then blew out and pushed down, the fullness making her groan.

“Fuck, Natasha,” he swore. “So hot and tight. Can you take more? Are you ready for more?”

In answer she braced herself again, pushing down with agonizing care until every inch of his erection was inside her and her back was pressed against his chest.

“Can we sit like this for a minute?” she gasped, shaking. “You’re just…I’m still sensitive.”

Stephen slid his arms around her, cupping her heavy breasts with his hands, his muscles flexing and shuddering against her. “As far as I’m concerned, we can sit like this forever. If I die of hard-on, just don’t let them take pictures.”

She struggled to relax around him, breathing deeply, each breath pressing her breasts against his hot palms. Her nipples hardened.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing her shoulder. “Have I mentioned how much I love your breasts?”

“Once or twice.”

One hand dropped between her thighs and cupped her sex. “What about this? Have I told you how much I love this?”

“My pussy?” She smiled sassily. “You can say it, you know. You’ve done enough to it in the last few days to have earned the right.”

His fingers tightened, slipping through the arousal there and finding her clit. “My pussy,” he responded wickedly. “You said it belonged to me.”

God yes. “For the moment.”

His other hand left her breast and went to her throat, his thumb forcing her chin toward him. “Mine,” he repeated, lowering his mouth to hers with an urgency she hadn’t expected. A hunger she craved.

As quickly as that, she was lost again, moaning into his mouth and pressing his hand harder against her sex. Needing him inside her. Needing him everywhere.

He broke the kiss and took a shaky breath. “I can handle this pussy, Natasha. I want you to play with your breasts for me.”

She lifted her breasts, pinching her nipples, and he groaned. “Yeah, baby. Oh, angel, you know you can take more than that.”

One finger slid into her sex, the fit tighter because of the erection filling her ass. “Stephen.”

“Fuck. Touch yourself for me, angel. I might have been wrong about how long I could last like this.”

He brought both hands to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, sending heat through her body. “Don’t wait.”

With a guttural sound he started to move her, dragging her up and down his shaft. She cried out, moving one hand from her aching breast to rub her clit, knowing he was as close as she was. Wanting them to come together.

Their shouts mingled in the steamy air. She could feel the waves of their shared orgasm crashing between them, drowning them in the pleasure they could only find together.

Mine.

After they’d recovered enough to wash each other and climb into bed in a tangled heap, she couldn’t stop her concern from creeping back in.

Mine…for the moment.

 

***

 

Tasha liked to think she understood Phil Burke. So far he’d reacted exactly the way she’d imagined he would—to her, to Stephen’s interactions with her, to their disagreement at dinner.

But she was surprised when he asked her to join him in his office.

Stephen had told her to occupy herself with Wendi and Brady, and even with Ken, so that he could be available if Burke wanted to talk to him privately and perhaps request a favor in exchange for his silence about Natasha.

She wasn’t sure what room he was in, but it wasn’t this one. She glanced around with false curiosity, having seen the study when Ken and Brady were having their impromptu spy-versus-spy make out session.

Burke leaned against his desk, a cup of coffee in his hand and a thoughtful smile on his lips.

She didn’t have to fake her nerves, just the reason for them. “I feel like I’ve been called to the principal’s office.”

“Nonsense. I just wanted a chance to talk to you in private.”

She bit her lip and clasped her hands together. “If this is about kissing Wendi—”

He laughed, exactly the way she expected him to, and shook his head. “That? I enjoyed that thoroughly. In fact, if you hadn’t suggested it I’d been planning to. I’m not a jealous man, Miss Rivera. A fact that pained my last three wives to no end. And let’s be honest, a fact that is already worrying my sweet young bride.”

“Women like to feel wanted. Special.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “And men like to think that their lover has never seen a bigger penis. We both know how often that’s true.”

She smiled in silence and he sighed, setting down his cup. “You are a singular woman, Miss Rivera. Smart, independent, unapologetically sexual…and your physical appeal is undeniable.”

“Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”

He met her gaze with his smart brown eyes. “The truth isn’t nice. It just is. I’m being honest with you, and I’d appreciate some honesty in return.”

Sorry, Charlie. “Of course, Mr. Burke.”

“You’re a valued member of the fetish club my guests frequent, so I don’t doubt you knew what to expect before you arrived.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You never joined us before.”

She shrugged. “You never invited Stephen before. I know the others sign something before they arrive so they’ll keep whatever they see here to themselves. The temptation to spend four days with him where we didn’t have to sneak around and wouldn’t have to worry about consequences was impossible to resist.”

He nodded, pleased with her answer. “It bothers you? Being his dirty little secret?”

She lifted her chin. “More than it used to. Why are you so interested?”

“Well, because I want to work with him, of course.” He pushed out a laugh. “Or to be more precise, I want him to work with me.”

She sent him a confused frown and he waved it away. “The innocent is one card you can’t play, Natasha. You’re far too savvy. The way the world works isn’t lost on someone like you. Not with your background.”

Fine. She placed a hand on her hip. “Which background exactly? Black? Puerto Rican? Immigrant’s daughter?”

He reached behind him for a file and slapped it against his leg; not needing to open it for Tasha to know it was all about her. “Father’s family connected to known Irish terrorists, mother a perpetual victim moving from one abusive man to another, cousins in and out of jail or victims of an unfairly slanted economic system. And you a struggling business owner trying to find her own sweet slice of the American dream. Basically, you’re Finn’s constituency wrapped up in one curvy package.” He picked up his cup again. “You’re also a problem.”

“I would ask how you know so much about me, but you do have a building full of reporters at your beck and call.”

He smiled. “I do. But I had to spend time with you to find out whether or not we could work together.”

Now her confusion was real. “I thought you said you wanted to work with Stephen.”

“Before I respond to that, tell me honestly, how long have you been in love with him?”

She took a step back, scrambling. “I…”

“You’ve been friends with his younger brother since high school. You both attended the same college. You hang out at his father’s pub and recently brought his baby sister to the club and helped her become an official member.”

Shit. Shitshitshit.

He didn’t give her a chance to deny it. “All of this and yet there isn’t a whisper of a rumor about you and Stephen Finn being a couple—aside from that idiot young Jennifer was engaged to, who told us he saw you together in the backseat of a car.”

“Scott?”

“Yes, that was his name. He said he had something for me but he accidentally erased the video on his phone. I refuse to pay for information I can’t verify.”

Burke stood and slid his hands into his pockets. “Everyone under this roof can see what’s between you. You didn’t have to hide it from us. But you do hide it, every day, even from the people you’re closest to. I might be one of the few people who truly understands how difficult it is to keep that kind of secret for so long. And you do that for him, don’t you? For his reputation. His career. That says love to me. The kind that wouldn’t accept a generous check to go public with your illicit affair, giving my reporters the exclusive, of course.”

Shock made her honest. “Never.”

He nodded, sighing again. “I thought not. Though you don’t strike me as a woman comfortable in the shadows, either. But that’s where you’ll have to stay if you want to keep him.”

She winced and he offered her a look of pity. “You’re right to be worried about people finding out about you. I’ve seen it before. You’re not exactly the right type for this rodeo, are you? You’re too sexual, too outspoken. Strong women are intimidating, and when people are intimidated, they attack. They’ll start with your fashion and your diet, they’ll pick apart every word you say and follow you wherever you go.”

She knew that. She’d always known that.

“Your friends will be understanding at first, but that won’t last under the onslaught. The owner of the club you cherish will request your absence, for the good of the other members, and I’d lay money on the odds that at least two of your relatives, including your mother, will come forward with an interview or tell-all of their own to cash in on your new status. Meanwhile, the man you were protecting will lose his credibility story by embarrassing story. He won’t thank you for that. If the illicit affair is ripping off the Band-Aid, that way is more like torture. And not the kind anyone enjoys.”

“You say all this like it’s a given. You don’t give people enough credit to make up their own minds.” But every word he said sounded true.

His laugh held no humor. “They get all the credit. I’ve hit a level of wealth I didn’t even know existed when I started, and it’s all because of people. They want a scandal. The more upstanding the individual? The more savory their downfall will be. People’s lives are full of suffering and struggle. The daily grind has done its job and all they want at the end of the day is to see someone’s sex tape, look at celebrity mug shots and watch a politician get caught with his pants down in a bathroom, on social media, or in the home of an anonymous friend.”

The picture he was painting was unattractive and harsh. “And what do you want, Mr. Burke? Why are you telling me this?”

“It isn’t out of the goodness of my heart or because Wendi wants to take you to Italy.” He turned his back on her and moved toward his desk. “I want you to play or go away. If you play, you’ll make money and I’ll make money, but maybe you won’t be invited over to the Finns for a family Christmas.”

He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a stack of pictures. “If you go away, that is, end things with the senator and stay away from him and his family, I won’t plaster these pictures on the front page of my newspaper or anyone else’s.”

Tasha stumbled a little as she moved closer. She was bent over Stephen’s bed, handcuffed, and his hand was fisted in her hair as he took her. His house. This was Stephen’s house the night before they came here. But Brady had swept… No he hadn’t. She’d distracted him and embarrassed him into rushing out the door. “How?”

“His cleaning lady let someone in to fix a clogged toilet that morning. Honestly, I’m not sure how those little wireless cameras work, but they do. Good, clear picture. Not grainy or blurry at all.”

It was blurry. Or maybe that was just her eyes. “Why do you want me to go away?”

“I’m a simple man, Miss Rivera. I like pieces on the board I can control. The added benefit is that the senator will be less willing to have his reputation ruined by a woman who broke things off and hurt—if not his heart, then his pride.”

She couldn’t believe this was happening. Or that she could still function this well when her heart was breaking. “You said you wouldn’t use these pictures.”

“And I won’t.” He stuck them back in his drawer and slid it shut. “I have enough on you both without being that obvious. And now that I know his type, I could find someone similar to help him recover from the pain of losing you. Someone I’ve got control of from the start. Though that would take time I’m not sure I’m willing to spend. I suppose the quickest way to bring him to my side would be Seamus.”

Her hands were fists at her sides. “You need to leave his family out of this.”

Burke’s laugh was genuine. “See? You are a fighter. Loyal. I was right about you. I will say I hope it doesn’t come to that. The child’s mother isn’t fit to bear the title, but still, with our help and all the bad publicity we can muster, little Sean will be taken from the quiet, single man who collects children like baseball cards and returned to his biological parent. And Seamus will be facing charges for abduction.”

She felt like she was going to be sick. Who was this man, playing with people’s lives as if they meant nothing? As if they were nothing? And Seamus… All Seamus had ever been was kindness and love incarnate. He was the best father she’d ever known.

Burke needed to rot in jail. But she was no longer in any position to help make that happen. Not for the moment, anyway. “Away.”

“Excuse me?”

He’d heard her. “I’ll go away.”

He nodded. “Then so will those pictures. But only if you leave right now. Don’t talk to him. Don’t answer his calls. Do you need me to send for my car?”

“No. I’ll find a ride.”

“If he catches you before you leave my house, tell him this trip made you realize you deserve someone who can give you more. Someone better.”

She glared at him with so much disdain he frowned. “Stephen is worth a thousand of you. You may be able to use the people he loves against him and send me away, but you’ll never bring him down to your level. There is no one better than Stephen Finn, and you know it. Isn’t that why you’re doing this?”

She turned on her heel and left the room as if the devil were chasing her. She took the stairs two at a time, trying to hold in her tears.

Go. Go now. Don’t think. No choice.

“Tasha?”

Shit. Brady and Ken were standing in the hall in front of her room. Did that mean Stephen was here? Shit.

Ken frowned in concern, moving toward her cautiously. “Tasha, what’s happened?”

“Can you take me home, Ken? Right now? We need to leave right now.”

Brady was by her side, his hand cupping her shoulder. “Tasha, just tell me who did this to you? Who do I have to kill?”

“I can’t tell you, Brady. I need Ken to take me out of here. I can’t see Stephen.”

Ever again. Jesus, was this happening? Had she laughed at Scott’s failed attempt at blackmail? He had nothing on Burke. Was that all politics was now—wealthy assholes and self-important pricks who thought they could twist the world to suit them?

“Let’s get your things together and talk about this.” Brady was thinking of hunting for Stephen. She could see it.

“There’s no time. Ken? Still scrambled?” she asked him.

He knew what she meant. “Yes. All clear.”

She took Brady’s hand off her arm and held it tight. “Listen to me, Brady. I have to leave right now and you can’t tell him anything. Other people are at stake here. The family… Just promise me.”

“Damn it. I swear.” Brady looked grim. “What the fuck did Burke threaten you with?”

“There’s a camera in Stephen’s bedroom. His house. Get rid of it before he sees it. You can tell him I was upset and left, but not why. If you tell him why, Burke will print the pictures.”

“Fuck,” Ken muttered. “I hate that motherfucker. I swear I’m going to get him for this. I’ll grab my keys.”

Tasha pushed Brady away from the door and ran in the bedroom to grab her purse. He was watching her. “Can you bring me my things? And Ken’s? I don’t have time to pack.”

“Of course. Tasha, this isn’t right. There has to be another way.”

She wiped her cheeks and clutched her purse to her chest. “There isn’t. We lost. I… I’ll tell Ken what he wants to use on Stephen. About Seamus. Answer your phone when he calls you. And thank you, Brady.” She kissed his cheek and then ran out the door and down the stairs. She didn’t stop until she was standing by Ken’s car.

Once they were on the road, she let the tears fall, wondering if they would ever stop. Stephen couldn’t fix this with a few phone calls the way he had the last time. Burke was too well connected. Too smart.

Which meant she’d lost them. All of them. Ellen and Shawn. Jennifer and Owen.

Stephen.

The horrible truth was that, instead of helping, she’d ended up giving Phil Burke exactly what he needed to cause a scandal. All these years of following the rules to protect Stephen’s reputation and her heart, and she’d put both in jeopardy because she hadn’t been able to resist his invitation.

How long have you been in love with him?

“All my life,” she whispered into the car. She was just afraid to admit it until it was too late.