His Climb to Power Page 7

Soon, we’re sitting at the table with the Italian food I ordered set out on fancy plates instead of the Styrofoam boxes it came in. When I called in the order, I was tempted to make some kind of quip about having a big appetite to hide the fact that I was ordering for two. But details were the death of a good lie.

  I had kept my mouth shut, and the guy with the fake Italian accent who had delivered my order hadn’t batted an eyelash at the fact that I appeared to be alone. Lies survived better in the dark. No discussion. No details. Which was why I was watching the girl I loved silently pick at her plate of lasagna instead of telling her about everything that was really going on.

  “Food okay?”

  “Hmm?” Blythe looked up, dropping her fork onto her plate with a clatter, as if I had startled her. The sound echoed like a shot amidst our otherwise relatively silent dinner. “Oh, everything’s fine.”

  “Just fine? Luigi would be wounded to hear it.”

  “Luigi? Is that really his name?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. He tells people it is, but he and his son both have worse Italian accents than their namesakes.”

  “Namesakes?” asked Blythe distractedly.

  “His son’s name is Mario.”

  That earned me a small smile, but Blythe still looked distant. I realized that I had been so caught up in what I didn’t want to say, I wasn’t paying attention to what was really going on with her. She was jumpy, and her smile was strained. She was nothing like the girl who marched into my party to tell me off, high on vodka and the certainty that she was right. I wanted that girl back.

  “Tell me what’s going on with you,” I said. “Tell me everything you did today when I couldn’t be with you.”

  To my surprise, her face heated a little at that command. “It was boring,” she said. “You tell me about your day.”

  For once, politics seemed like a safe topic. I gave her a quick rundown of what had been going on at the office, everything except dealing with the ongoing fallout from the murder.

  “Clarke Mason is supposed to be the best,” I explained. “So, I’m hoping that with his help, I’ll still have a career when this is done. He doesn’t know the truth of what I’m doing, of course. No one can know that, but it doesn’t matter. He already thinks I’m in trouble since I broke up with you.”

  “Good,” she teased me gently.

  We talked a little more. She listened and asked questions in all the right places, nodding and looking concerned as I walked her through the details of a minor dispute I was dealing with regarding some beachfront property in my district.

  I didn’t tell her about Handan. I couldn’t. I had a feeling that the anguish on my mother’s face would only reflect on hers.

  She kept quiet. There was no excited gushing about her day or chattering complaints. She didn’t regale me with her plans for the week or tell me what the kids had been up to. It was unusual for her, and it didn’t sit well with me. I wanted to ask her, but I had the strangest feeling that maybe I didn’t want to know what was really going on inside of her head.

  I shrugged the notion away. Of course, she seemed distant. We were being forced to meet in secret. She had Carl shadowing her steps, and I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. I fell silent, and Blythe barely seemed to notice. She was still picking at her food, having eaten very little.

  “If you aren’t going to eat dinner, I’m going to suggest we move on to something else,” I said. She looked up, her gaze still far away before finally focusing on me. Seeing the heat in my eyes, she dropped her fork again and locked her eyes with mine in a way that let me know she wasn’t distracted anymore.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Smiling at her, I stood and slowly began walking to her side of the table. “I could tell you in explicit detail just what I plan to do tonight. Everything that I’m going to do with my fingers and my tongue and my cock. But I think I’d rather just show you. How do you feel about that?”

  As I moved her hair away from her neck and bent down to plant a kiss on her bare skin, she shuddered. “I like surprises,” she whispered.

  Fuck.

  We didn’t make it to the bedroom. Instead, I carried her to the couch, grateful for the privacy film on the penthouse windows. I didn’t want to expose Blythe any more than I already had, but I needed her naked beneath me. The dress slid off her body like water, revealing a matching set of panties. “Oh god,” I groaned when I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra under the dress. I cupped her sex through the thin fabric that was the only thing left hiding her body. “You’re always wet for me, baby.”

  “Jack,” she breathed, moving against my hand.

  “Wait, baby,” I said, taking my hand away even as she tried to press her legs together and keep me there. “I want to be inside you the first time you come.”

  “The first time?”

  “I can’t get enough of you,” I said in answer. “I want to remind you how good we are together. How it’s worth everything I’ve put you through.”

  “Jack…” I silenced her with another bruising kiss, my cock hardening further at the way she gasped against my lips, letting my tongue invade her sweet mouth. When I lifted my head, she pressed her cheek against my chest. “You’re worth it, Jack. You’re worth everything.”

  Afraid to let her convince me. afraid she might be trying to convince herself, I focused on her body. I turned her in my arms, helping her to brace herself against the back of the couch. Then, I positioned myself over her from behind, running one hand down the elegant curve of her bare back.

  “Open for me, baby,” I said, nudging my knee between her legs. She obeyed, parting her legs and arching her back as I entered her from behind. I groaned as her body stretched to accommodate me. “So wet for me,” I said, marveling at the way her slickness eased my entry into her body. Like we were made for each other.

  “Harder,” she said, pushing back against me. “I need you. I need to feel you.”

  I drew back and entered her again with one firm stroke, finding an addictive, relentless rhythm. She moved beneath me, urging me on, and I reached around her to caress her breasts, feeling her nipples pebble under my hand.

  “More,” she breathed, catching my hand in hers and guiding it to her clit. “God, Jack.”

  I steadied her against me, driving into her again, angling her so that my cock slid even deeper. “Too much?”

  “No. No. Give me everything.”

  I lost myself in her, the rhythm of my body driving into hers, her gasps and moans beneath me. I gripped her too hard, keeping her in place so that she could take my entire cock. Distantly, I knew that I was trying to protect her even now, covering her with my body, keeping her in the safety of my arms.

  I shouldn’t be with her. Protecting her meant letting her go, but I was too selfish to do it. Blythe reared up in my arms, her back meeting my chest. I clutched her to me, lowering my head for another possessive kiss just as I felt myself go over the edge, emptying myself inside of her. She went over with me, her sweet pussy pulsing around my cock.

  When my orgasm subsided, I turned her in my arms, holding her against me as we caught our breath. As soon as my strength returned, I scooped her up and started carrying her towards the bedroom. “What are you doing?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked, leaning down and nipping at her earlobe. “That was just the first time.” I laid her down on my bed, watching her stretch like a cat. When she noticed me taking in her body, she blushed, but it was different from the blush I had seen at the dinner table. She wasn’t hiding her feelings from me. She was showing me that she felt my gaze, growing heated at the naked appreciation she witnessed there. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

  “Likewise,” she said and leaned forward to run her hands along my chest before they slipped lower, teasing my cock, already semi-hard and ready for round two. As I watched, she came up onto her knees and took me into her sweet mouth.

  “Blythe,” I groaned. She
ran her tongue along my shaft, and I tangled my fingers, causing the pins to fall away from her gorgeous curls.

  She leaned back, looking up at me. “Rachel would be mad if I was able to tell her that you’d messed up my hair.”

  “Totally worth it. Now, you look thoroughly fucked.”

  “I almost am,” said Blythe, a wicked smile coming over her face. “Just a few more times and I should be good.”

  I laughed, amazed that I could find joy amidst all we had been through. Grateful to be reminded that it wasn’t just lust between us. I loved her quick wit. Her ability to be sexy and intense and fiercely loyal. What we had was real. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have survived all this shit.

  But why could we only seem to find it lately, when we were naked?

  It didn’t matter. Not now with Blythe on her knees in front of me, her hair a wild mess of curls around her sweet face.

  “Ready, baby?” I asked, slipping my hand between her legs and teasing her clit. This time, I watched her face as she came apart in my arms.

  10 Blythe

  It had never occurred to me that the Carl I had come to know was Carl in a good mood. Today, he was definitely in a bad mood. Despite his huge frame, he usually stepped lightly, moving with the grace of a jungle cat. So, it was definitely on purpose that he was stomping around the office now.

  Rachel and I already had paperwork spread out across the desk. Carl had been doing a perimeter check of the building. He claimed it was to make sure no one could sneak up on us, but I was pretty sure he just wanted to make sure he knew where all the exits were after the last time I had managed to ditch him at Rachel’s. I was pretty sure I’d have to take him with me even if I needed a bathroom break.

  If that wasn’t enough to convince me that Carl didn’t appreciate my lack of respect for his bodyguard duties, the way he was glowering in my general direction would have gotten the message across loud and clear. I ducked my head, taking much longer than was necessary to find a highlighter in one of the desk drawers. When I finally straightened, I realized that Carl was actually glowering a little to my left. At Rachel.

  Hmm. Just what had happened when I snuck out and left them alone?

  I thought I had sensed a little bit of a spark between the two of them, but I wasn’t exactly in a position to be playing matchmaker. Not when my relationship status was “single with secret boyfriend/fiancé.” I lowered my head and tried to focus on the task at hand.

  The art center project was in trouble. Donors were dropping out left and right. Kevin Sanderson had just been the bellwether. Any time we accepted a large donation, we entered into a giving contract with the donor. It was standard practice for nonprofits, and there was almost always a clause outlining the terms under which a donor could remove their funds.

  There was also a clause where we could go after donors for pulling a donation without cause. But it was mostly for show. We might be able to use our pro-bono lawyers to muscle a few donations back from the skittish Miami elite, but then we would be known as a charity that strong-armed its supporters. It was a no-win situation.

  I dropped the highlighter with a sigh, and Rachel picked it up, using it to highlight the names of all the donors that had ditched us. Soon the sheet was bleeding yellow. Most of the donors that had stuck with us had given smaller gifts. Those were the donors who either didn’t know or didn’t care about the way that Humane Miami had become embroiled in scandal.

  I ran my finger down the page, stopping at each remaining gift. One hundred bucks from a Mom whose son had spent his high school years at the youth center. Not only was the kid now in college, the first in his family, but Mom had also taken advantage of our tutoring to get a technical certificate at the community college and now had a job at a local nursing home that actually paid her rent.

  Another gift of $375 was from Andreas Car Repair. The shop had been set up by yet another youth center alum. College hadn’t been the right path for Andreas, but he was smart and business-minded. When he became obsessed with his shop classes, I realized that they would be the thing to keep him in school. I promised him a car of his own if he got his degree, and I got one donated at the beginning of his senior year so that he could fix it up himself as a senior project. Now, he was giving back what he could.

  The thought lifted my spirits, but without the big donations, I was going to let other kids like Andreas down. Heaving a big sigh, I went to the file cabinet to pull another contract and try to find a way to salvage our relationship with a donor who had given almost seven thousand dollars that they now wanted to claw back.

  I looked up at the sound of the buzzer that indicated someone wanted to come upstairs. “They’re probably trying to get the Sunglass Hut,” I said, noting the way Carl had shifted his glare to the closed door. “No one even knows that Rachel and I are in the office today.”

  The buzzer sounded again, and I looked beseechingly at Carl. “They aren’t going to go away unless someone tells them to. And the intercom is broken.”

  Carl shoved back his chair, standing up and motioning me towards the door. “I’ll walk you down,” he said. He preceded me down the narrow stairs, one hand under his jacket where I was 99% sure he had a gun. When we reached the landing, he opened the door and growled. “Who are you?”

  I managed to peer over his shoulder, only because we were still on the stairs, giving me some extra height. To my surprise, Riley Henning was standing in the lobby, looking from Carl to the door of the Sunglass Hut and back again. Carl was wearing his sunglasses, mysterious, wrap-around, law enforcement-style sunglasses. It almost looked like one of the ads on the window had come to life.

  “Ms. Hemsey?” said Riley. “Is that you?”

  I tugged at Carl’s arm until he reluctantly let me squeeze past him into the small tiled hallway outside the Sunglass Hut. “Hi, Riley,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  To my annoyance, he looked as handsome as I remembered. Instead of a suit, this time he was wearing a pair of expensive-looking jeans and a leather jacket. I wondered if he was here to pull the donation he had mentioned the other day. It wouldn’t be hard to do. We hadn’t even had a chance to complete the paperwork.

  “I wanted to talk some more about the donation I mentioned the other day,” he said. “My clients are eager to move forward.”

  I tried not to look too over excited at that news. “That’s great,” I said. “Come on up.”

  Carl huffed loudly behind me, and I knew he was annoyed that I had invited Riley up to the office without asking. Ignoring his attitude, I clapped one hand on his broad shoulder and patted him like an obedient puppy. “This is Carl. Don’t mind his attitude. He just had a root canal. It was incredibly painful. He can hardly talk.”

  Before Carl could recover from that speech, I squeezed past him again and headed back towards the office, hoping Riley would follow behind me despite Carl’s menacing presence. Sure enough, when we reached the office, Carl resumed his place in his chair, looking more annoyed than ever as Riley entered the door behind him, looking around at the cluttered office with a polite smile on his face.

  “This is Rachel,” I said, hoping to draw his attention towards the slightly more professional looking desk area. “She’s my assistant.”

  “Good to meet you, Rachel,” Riley said, holding out his hand. Rachel took it, raising an eyebrow in my direction. I knew she was wondering why this cute guy seemed to know who I was. To my surprise, Riley turned to Carl, smiling at him as if he wasn’t looking like he wanted to pound the newcomer into the floor. “And what do you do here, Carl?”

  “Ah!” I looked from Riley to Rachel. “Don’t talk, Carl! He’s still recovering from that root canal,” I said, directing this news to Rachel. “Carl is…” I trailed off. I knew I couldn’t introduce Carl as my bodyguard. That invited questions about why I needed a bodyguard in the first place. And how I was paying for one. And eventually, it would lead a smart guy like Riley right back to the realization that there must be
a connection between Jack and me. “Carl is Rachel’s assistant,” I said, seized with sudden inspiration. “She helps me, and Carl helps her. We all make a great team!”

  Rachel snorted with laughter that she quickly disguised as a cough. Carl’s glower turned positively molten. Turning away from him guiltily, I mustered as much enthusiasm as I could and announced to Rachel, “Riley is here to talk about a donation to the arts center. He’s a consultant working with Diamond and Heemstra, and he’s advised them that our project is a good investment.”

  “Well, we could certainly use the help, but really?” She looked as confused as I’d felt yesterday. “Diamond and Heemstra?”

  Sometimes when she was wrapped up in a problem, she forgot to be diplomatic. “No donation is too small,” I said, trying to soften her statement. “We appreciate any help we can get.”

  Riley wasn’t fooled. “Kevin Sanderson wasn’t the only one to drop out, was he?”

  “We’re confident in the project,” I said, feeling wounded at his certainty that we were floundering, even if it was true. “As with any large, donor-driven project, we’ve had our challenges.”

  “You can paint a rosy picture,” Riley said, “but don’t make the mistake of thinking I need to be convinced everything is great to want to help you. I like fixing problems. That’s my job.”

  “We aren’t a problem to be fixed,” I said hotly.

  “That’s not what I meant,” said Riley. “All I meant was, it sounds like you’ve got a PR problem on your hands. And I’m a PR consultant. An expert at damage control. The law firm’s donation aside, I’d like to offer my services to the center. Pro Bono. In support of what you’re doing for the children of Miami.”

  “Wow,” I said, taken aback at having this possible solution to my problem just handed to me. I couldn’t turn him down just because I found him annoying. And hot. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Humane Miami needed help.

  “Rachel,” I said, looking for a distraction, “Could you step out and get us some coffees? I can walk Riley through the donor list and see if he really wants to help once he knows what he’s getting himself into.”