Authors: Pamela Clare
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary
God, she got hot again just remembering it—and the fact that he was coming over tonight. It would be their first night together since Monday. Strange that four days without sex seemed like an eternity when she’d gone five years.
Headlights rounded the corner, momentarily blinding her. Then the car turned into Mr. Hammond’s driveway and slid under the carport. A silver Toyota Corolla. It was 5:07.
“Your tax dollars at work.” Kara slipped her digital recorder into the front pocket of her suit jacket, opened the car door, and met Mr. Hammond on his own front porch. He was a short man with thinning brown hair and the posture of someone who spent too much time hunched over a desk. “You’re a hard man to get a hold of.”
He gaped at her in astonishment and then looked around
as if to see who else might be there. “What are you doing here? You’re going to get me fired—or worse!”
“There’s no one here but me, Mr. Hammond. And I have some questions that need answers. You’re the only one who can help me.”
He looked at her, fear written on his face as plainly as words on a page. He pushed past her and stuck his key in the deadbolt. “I can’t help. I’m sorry. Really, I am.”
“I’ve seen your inspection reports, Mr. Hammond. I know you’re a man who takes his job seriously. You want to protect people. You double-checked Northrup’s math, caught them faking the numbers. Why weren’t they prosecuted?”
He stepped through his front door and turned to face her. “I wish I could help you. I really do. But I’ve got a wife and two kids to feed. They’ll be home any minute. I need you to leave now.”
“Whistleblowers get federal protection, Mr. Hammond.”
“Not when they’re dead they don’t.”
M
R
. H
AMMOND
tried to shut the door, but she stuck her foot in and blocked him.
“Off the record. Please, Mr. Hammond! Think of the whistleblower. He has kids, too. What happens to him if Northrup isn’t held accountable? What happens to me? They may have broken into my house last weekend. I’ve got a son.”
He met her gaze through brown eyes that held both compassion and great misgiving. “All right. But only five minutes. And everything is strictly background. Off the record.”
“Agreed.” She slipped inside before he could change his mind and noticed that he pulled the curtains shut before he turned the lights on. “I’ve read through about half of the documents so far, and I’ve found dozens of inspection reports that have your name on them. What I haven’t found are successful prosecutions or even high fines. Tell me who’s protecting Northrup.”
He sat down on the overstuffed sofa, buried his face in his hands, and gave a nervous little laugh. “I suppose you want names. It’s not that easy. All I know is that I do the inspections, turn in the reports, and after I’m thanked for doing a good job, it all disappears. State bureaucracy, Ms. McMillan.”
“Don’t try to tell me it’s the system, Mr. Hammond. I don’t buy that. Decisions are made by people. People have names.”
“Start at the top. The governor, who gets big campaign donations from Northrup, tells my boss that he’s gotten a complaint from Northrup that inspectors are picking on them. The director of the health department knows his ass is on the line because he was appointed by the governor, so he tells me to back off. How’s that for starters?”
“You’re saying the governor is in Northrup’s pocket and is exerting pressure on your department to go easy on them?”
He gave another nervous laugh. “Yeah. That’s part of it.”
“Tell me the rest. How can major violations of state and federal environmental laws just disappear? Not even the governor can accomplish that, can he?”
Mr. Hammond looked at the floor and then met her gaze. “What is the single most powerful governmental body in the state?”
“The state legislature.”
“Think smaller.”
There was only one governmental body that held authority over the legislature. “The Legislative Audit Committee.”
“Find the memo from the LAC, and you’ll have your answer.” He stood. “Now please leave. And please don’t contact me again.”
“It can’t be the whole committee, Mr. Hammond. They would never act unanimously to protect a polluter.”
He herded her toward the door. “Please go! Please. I’m sorry I can’t help you more. And be careful.”
“Why should I be careful, Mr. Hammond? Who wants to hurt me?”
But he had already shut the door.
K
ARA EXAMINED
herself in the mirror. She wore the same thing she’d worn to work, but rather than a blouse beneath her jacket, she wore nothing, leaving her cleavage exposed from neck to navel. Her hair was coiled on top of her head. Lipstick as red as lust colored her lips. Scent was dabbed on
her wrists, between her breasts, and onto her pubic hair. She was ready for him.
God, was she ready for him. It had taken no small amount of effort to make her way through dinner, bath time, and
Fox in Sox
tonight. Fortunately, Connor had exhausted himself playing dinosaurs at day care and fell asleep quickly, leaving her free to take a hot bath and prepare for Reece. She’d put fresh sheets on the bed, turned down the covers, and set candles around the room, candles she’d already lit. White wine chilled in the refrigerator, something Italian the wine store clerk had chosen for her when she’d pleaded for help. She’d sliced cheese and fruit to go with it, knowing they would be hungry afterward. It was the first time Reece would be spending time in her bed, and she wanted it to be just right.
Why
it was so important that everything be perfect she couldn’t say. She didn’t want to think about that just now. All she knew was that she wanted him. She wanted him so badly that she ached with it. For tonight she wouldn’t analyze it. She would just enjoy it.
She had just gone to check on Connor when she heard Reece’s quiet knock on the door. Looking through the peephole to make certain it was he, she unlocked and opened the door. “Senator.”
His face was lined with stress, but he smiled, his gaze raking over her. “Ms. McMillan.”
Reece stepped inside and shut and locked the door behind him, all thoughts of his confrontation with Prentice dissipating at the sight of her. She was dressed much as she had been this afternoon—but with a few very noticeable differences. “You look incredible.”
The smile she gave him was both shy and seductive. “Have you eaten supper yet?”
He tossed his jacket onto the new couch and pulled her against him, intent on smearing that obscenely red lipstick all over her mouth. “Who needs food?”
They kissed their way recklessly to the bedroom. Tongues invaded, twined, stroked. Teeth nipped, bit, bruised.
Hands fisted in hair, tore at clothing, fought to find skin.
Reece forced himself to let go of her and shut the door behind them. “Undress—everything but the garters and stockings.”
Her pupils were dilated, her breathing unsteady. Her gaze never left his as she did as he asked, peeling off the jacket he’d already unbuttoned, unzipping her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. And then she stood before him, all but naked, the bared curves of her hips and ass and the lush triangle between her thighs framed by the black lace garters.
He felt the same rush of air from his lungs. But this time he was determined to go slowly. She was a banquet, and he was going to savor every bite. He let his gaze wander over her, let her hunger—and his—build. “Lie down.”
She took two steps backward and lay down on her bed, her thighs parting just enough to give him a glimpse of paradise.
He took off his already loosened tie, knelt beside her, and heard her surprised intake of breath as she realized what he was going to do. He bound her wrists and tied them to one of the slats in her headboard. Then he yanked the pillow out from beneath her head—and slipped it beneath her hips.
Her breathing was fast, erratic, her nipples already hard and beaded. “Oh, Reece, now!”
“No.” He let his hands enjoy the feel of her—the firmness of her breasts, the satin curve of her belly, the flare of her hips. He parted her thighs and drank in the sight of her, the scent of her. He slid his fingers lazily over her already damp cleft, then gave her swollen clitoris an idle flick.
Her body jerked, and she whimpered. “Now! Please!”
“No.” She had taken him by surprise at the Capitol today. It was his turn to surprise her. “I hope you don’t mind if I brought a friend. I thought we could have a little threesome tonight.”
She gaped at him. “Wh-what?”
“I thought we’d try a little ménage à trois. You’re much too hot for me to keep to myself. You’re okay with that, aren’t you?” He made an educated guess and reached over to
open the drawer of her small bedside dresser, then pulled the purple device out of a frothy pile of panties. “It’s just you, me—and Mr. Jiggle Stick.”
She gasped and tried to sit up, but with her wrists tied, she could only writhe. It was sexy as hell. “Oh, no, Reece, you can’t—!”
“Yes, I can. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” His cock strained rudely against his trousers, eager to get inside her. But he had other plans.
He turned on the vibrator, stretched out beside her, and chuckled at the embarrassed look on her face. Then he kissed her. While his tongue took her mouth, hard and deep, Mr. Jiggle Stick buzzed against her puckered nipples.
Her body jerked again, and she whimpered into his mouth, her hips rising off the pillow in search of release. But she would have to wait, to endure it, because he wasn’t finished yet.
Where the vibrator went, Reece let his lips and tongue follow—over her nipples, down her belly, across her inner thighs. He savored the taste of her, his mind reeling with urgent, aching lust.
Kara forgot to feel embarrassed, forgot to think, forgot to breathe. Her skin was hypersensitive, every nerve awakened by the soft vibrations, so that the kisses, licks, and nips that followed were almost unbearable. She heard the unmistakable sounds of a woman lost in the bliss of sex, and her arousal rose a notch when she realized the sounds were coming from her own throat.
Then he touched the vibrator lightly to her clitoris.
She all but screamed.
But as she lifted her hips for more, he moved it away. “Uh-uh. Hold still.”
“I can’t!”
“Yes, you can.” He moved the vibrator until it was a fraction of an inch away from her swollen flesh and held it there.
She bit her lip and fought to hold still, burning, aching, waiting.
When he let it touch her again, it was all she could do to keep from bucking against it. He rubbed it over her lightly, the vibrations making her inner muscles clench with pleasure so intense it almost hurt. Then he slipped a finger inside her and stroked her hard, until she was panting, pleading, begging.
Abruptly, the sensation stopped, and she moaned in desperation. She felt the mattress shift and opened her eyes to find him kneeling over her, a wicked grin on his face. “Now, Reece, please!”
“Mr. Jiggle Stick and I talked it over, and he gets to take you first.” Then his hands clasped her already parted thighs, and he pushed her legs apart and back, opening her to him completely. “But when he’s done with you, I’m going to fuck you long and hard.”
She watched almost in disbelief as he sank between her thighs, the buzzing vibrator in one hand. She realized what he meant to do seconds before he did it. “Oh, jeez!”
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t let him hurt you.” He nudged the vibrator into her, one slow inch at a time, until she whimpered with impatience. When its length was deep inside her, he turned it on high. Then his mouth lowered and closed over her.
“Oh! Oh, my God! Reece!” They were the last intelligible words she spoke. It was too much, too much. The vibrator gliding slowly, slickly, in and out of her, hard and pulsing. Reece’s tongue and lips torturing her swollen flesh. The sound of his aroused groans.
It didn’t seem possible that anything could feel this good. She was lost in pleasure, lost in lust, lost in her body’s need. Overwhelmed, she tried to fight back the climax that surged toward her, to ride the crest. But he was relentless. Before she could climb on top of the current, before she had any chance to control it, the wave overtook her and plunged her into ecstasy.
The strangled scream that came out of her throat sounded wild, almost more animal than human. Only the weight of
his arm, thrown across her hips at the last second, kept her from coming off the pillow. Holding her down, he kept up his assault and forced her to ride out the pleasure until she lay weak and trembling, bliss lapping at her like quiet surf.
She shuddered when he withdrew the vibrator, and her eyes snapped open when she heard the zipper on his trousers. He knelt between her thighs, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal luscious muscles she couldn’t touch, his erection jutting from his pants, demanding and erotic.
His voice was rough. “He’s had you. Now it’s my turn.” He grasped her hips, and with one slow thrust he was deep inside her, thick and hard.
“Oh, yes, Reece, yes!”
And as his sure strokes drove her once more over the brink and he emptied himself inside her, there was nothing in the world for her—nothing—but him.
R
EECE WAS
deep asleep, Kara’s naked body pressed against his, when he heard it. A thud. Unmistakable, it jerked him from dreams to wakefulness.
He sat up, listened.
Other than Kara’s murmur as she snuggled into him, he heard only silence. He had just started to lie down again when it came again, much louder this time.
Kara bolted upright, eyes wide, sheet clutched to her breasts. “Someone’s out there! On the deck!”
The fear on her face sent tentacles of anger twining through his gut. Reece got out of bed and, still naked, strode toward the bedroom door. “Stay here. If anything happens, push the panic button.”
“But I should be the one to check! It’s my house, and you shouldn’t have to do it just because you’re the man.”
He cast her a withering glance that was probably lost in the darkness. “Burn a bra if you want, but don’t be ridiculous!”