Page 79 of Not the Plan

Isadora:Gonna need the name of your cologne. So I can have you on my skin anytime I want.

Karim:Trying to get me stuck behind my desk?

Isadora:Wasn’t really that naughty, was it?

Karim:Now that I know what that skin tastes like, it was. Especially that most forbidden skin. That gets so warm and slick and mouth-watering.

She gasped, putting the phone down on the table. Her jacket suffocated her. She waved it open and closed to cool down.

“Really?” asked RJ, nodding toward the hickey. Lunch in the capitol cafeteria meant that there were eyes everywhere.

“Yeah,” she puffed. “Don’t even care right now.”

“Wow,” RJ mouthed, spearing another forkful of salad.

Karim:Oops. Got myself stuck behind my desk. When can I taste—I mean see—you again?

She had half a mind to tell him to meet her in the basement in thirty minutes. Instead she paused. Setting another date was making it a thing.“Date,”she thought.That’s not even the word. We can’t be seen in public together. We meet up, there’s no doubt where it’s headed. Then again, that keeps it fun. Fun in Sacramento. I’m down for that.

Isadora:Friday, 7, my place.

Karim:Hmm. Tough to be patient. But worth it. Gotta go. Will be thinking of you, Little Kite.

Sharp tingles sparkled over her skin as her heart dropped.

Isadora:Will be thinking of you, Karim. Every bit of you.

It’s official. It’s a thing.She ran her fingertips down her throat and exhaled through pursed lips.

“Well,” said RJ. “Well, well, well.”

—

As Session revved up, she didn’t have to try hard not to think of Karim all the time. Her schedule was packed, and she had to focus on setting the agenda and Daniel’s strategy for the majority meeting the following week. The nights got steamy with sexy texts, but they didn’t sleep together because they wouldn’t have slept.

On Wednesday, in the rotunda, she ran into a committee staff member who’d returned from a long illness. Happy to catch up, she’d put her hand on his arm, laughing at a joke, when she felt eyes on her.

Karim, stalking toward them. She couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath. His face was hard, in spite of the nerdy-cute, as though someone was stroking something that belonged to him. She tingled all over and had to shift her focus to the floor. Her friend asked if she was okay.

“Yes, fine, sorry.” She smiled at him. Karim’s stride slowed, and her memory shot back to his thighs—hot, hard, powerful. She exhaled, lips open, doing her best to remain in her conversation. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Karim’s lips shift into a quick grin as he continued on his way.

After wrapping up her conversation, she pulled her phone outof her pocket. Seeing him for the first time since Sunday lit a fire that was too much to bear.

Isadora:Do you have ten minutes?

Karim:Yes.

Isadora:There’s a supply closet in the third-floor copy room.

Karim:I’ll beat you to it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Karim

The notepad paper was a poor substitute for her skin. But it was all he had to glide his fingers across right then. It was his memento of the stolen moments from the previous week in the supply closet; those few, hot minutes had tided him over until the weekend. And what a weekend it had been.

He loved that she wanted to wear her hair down for him. She was beautiful however she styled it, but knowing it was only for him…He tucked his chin as the thought heated his cheeks. When she’d opened her door Friday night she apologized for not being ready as she undid her bun. He’d almost died when she explained that she’d wanted her hair already down when he got there because of how much he liked it.

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