Page 49 of Seduction
I smell you on him. And you know who I’m talking about.
I gasped sharply then slapped my hand over my mouth. I’d forgotten to warn him about Angela’s bearlike sense of smell. There was no way of hiding it from her. I had to trust that she would keep her discovery to herself.
I sat for a while, wondering how to respond. But the best response was no response. I closed my laptop, and since I was practicing avoidance, I put Boston out of my mind too. I went to the bed where Jake and I last made love, wrapped myself in the blankets, which smelled like the both of us, and went to sleep.
* * *
“Pen,”someone said softly.
I opened my eyes slowly. Jake was beside me. His shirt was off, and it looked as if he had been beside me for a while.
“Hey,” I said tiredly. “What time is it?”
“It’s six a.m. I have to go into surgery.”
My head felt fuzzy, and it was hard to process what he had said. “But you just got out of surgery.”
“I’ve been here next to you for a while.” He started nibbling my neck, and I knew why he’d woken me.
Jake took off his night pants as we were kissing.It’s six a.m.?Right.I was off that day.
I sighed as his cock dove into my pussy.
* * *
When I woke up again,the curtains were open, but the sheer shades covered the glass. The scent of lemon cleanser hung in the air. I had learned that was a sign the maids had been cleaning.
I struggled to shift into a sitting position. I was still drowsy but also well rested, which was something my body hadn’t felt in many, many years.
Six a.m. this morning… Jake was here. We made love.
His body felt so strong on top of me. I squeezed my thighs together, and a thrill sparked through my pussy. His dick made me so sensitive down there. His sensual way of making love caused me to crave him every waking hour.
“That’s right,” I said and sighed, remembering that Angela knew we were having sex. I would confirm her findings the next time we saw each other, but until then, I would make her wait.
As usual, breakfast was set up in the kitchen. That time, the flowers were two dozen red roses. I took a while to smell each one of them before diving into a full-on feast with all the trimmings—scrambled eggs, hash browns, crepes, breakfast meats, an array of fruit, and a variety of breads. I wasn’t used to eating as much as I had since staying in the penthouse, and I was positive I’d gained a couple of pounds—love pounds, which was the best kind of weight to pile on. Regardless, I decided to take it easy and put a serving of eggs, an English muffin, and turkey bacon on my plate.
While I ate and drank coffee, I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I turned on the television just in time to see news coverage about a guy running for a Senate seat in California, my home state. They ran a clip of his performance on New Day America, which happened a week ago. The host, Tia Rose, notorious for emotional theatrics, had gotten the guy, whose name was Spencer Christmas, to talk about his wife in a favorable way.
“Christmas,” I whispered. I felt as though someone had mentioned that name to me recently, but I couldn’t remember who.
The guy’s wife was the daughter of Patricia Forte, whom I’d voted for twice. One somber-looking dude in the studio argued with a woman who looked more like a naughty librarian than a journalist, if that was what she was supposed to be. He said Spencer Christmas could’ve beat Patricia Forte. She said Spencer Christmas was smart to drop out of the race this weekend because he hadn’t stood for anything other than being a billionaire who knew how to give away money.
I rubbed the side of my face.Has another weekend gone by without me realizing it?I closed my eyes and remembered that it was Tuesday.
“Talk about money, she still has an ongoing corruption case—campaign finance fraud.”
My eyes grew wide.Wow, I didn’t know that.
“That has been proven false, Byron. I can’t believe of all people, you were never willing to test this guy.”
“I have tested him. Sure, he’s a Washington outsider, but what his foundation has done for victims of his father’s crimes speaks for itself. Plus, he’s young. Every senator has to start somewhere, or else they would’ve been in Congress for too long. Kind of like Forte.”
She grunted as if he’d just slapped her in the face then started using her fingers to count down. “He’s never held an office in his life. He’s a playboy.”
“That’s not fair,” Byron said. “The guy’s faithfully married.”
“Listen,” the somber guy, who was clearly the referee, said. “This is an example of how polarizing this contest was and still is. None of us thought Forte would go down without a fight, but she pulled out. Mike Black is our new frontrunner. Does he have the juice to go all the way?”
