Page 25 of Lust
“That’s it, baby,” I murmured against her ears.
I should have felt guilt over what just happened, but all I felt was utter bliss. And if I stayed any longer, I’d only want to go further. Much further.
Instead, I pulled my sweatpants up and cleaned Sara up with a warm washcloth. With one more longing look at the girl I used to call my sister, I retreated to the safety of my room.
Michael sat across from me in his new office, a pristine location in downtown Georgetown. He didn’t look up, scribbling away in his notebook.
I woke up early today and prodded him into seeing me for an impromptu session. My mind felt fucked, and I needed him to unscramble it ASAP.
“Are you having doubts about your chances in the election?”
“Huh?” I asked absentmindedly.
“Your campaign,” he pressed. “Everything you’ve worked so hard for.”
I blinked. “Right.”
I had worked hard for my career and was so close to getting everything I ever wanted. If anyone got wind of what I did last night, my political life would be over before taking off. It was necessary to steer clear of scandals at this stretch to achieve my goals.
Except, the importance of it refused to register with me.
Why had politics been so important to me in the first place?
“How was the fundraiser last night?”
“Fine,” I mumbled. The night had gone far from fine.
“Doesn’t sound like it. What happened?”
I groaned, running a hand down my face. “Nothing. I just… didn’t get as many pledges as I had hoped. And then I saw Sara with this man. This police officer… he was hitting on her.” With a twist of my thumb and forefinger, I rotated the tiny globe perched on the side table to drown my sudden urge to drive my fist through the wall.
“Care to elaborate?”
I paused, unsure whether I should.
Michael noticed my taciturnity. “From what you’ve told me about her, Sara is a capable young lady. What’s so wrong with someone taking an interest in her?”
“I don’t want her to become collateral damage.”
“How so?”
“Sara is naïve. I’m worried he might be trying to get himself associated with the right family. He is nothing but a two-bit social climber.”
Michael quirked his eyebrow, his interest piqued. “We both know your sister isn’t naïve. Is this about something else?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only that you’re expressing more than brotherly concerns.”
Fuck yeah, I was. I couldn’t get the vision of last night out of my head. Part of me was floating on ecstasy after my night with Sara, and the other half was distracted by the residual guilt.
“Tristan, it’s clear that you seem to be seeking something more profound than just a one-night stand and are having difficulty finding someone who can provide that.”
Oh, I found someone, alright; she just happened to be my sister.
Michael’s words disturbed me. The first time I saw Sara as a woman, instead of a little girl, was also the last day I noticed or touched another woman. How the fuck did Michael figure that out? My indiscretions weren’t public knowledge.
He answered my unspoken question. “There have been too many changes in… let’s call it your dating habits… to overlook the trend. But just because you have given up on…” he waved a hand to describe my previous long strands of one-night stands, menage et trois, orgies, and once more settled on the word, “dating… doesn’t mean Sara has to do the same.”
