Page 115 of Sins of the Father

She smiles and makes our excuses then I lead her to our table. No one is there, which makes me happy.

The minute we sit, she puts her hand under the table on my inner thigh and murmurs, “Should we make this more interesting?”

I twirl her hair around my finger and put my face next to hers. “When we get home, I’m not going to let you come until it’s time for me to go to work tomorrow.” I trace her diamond earring with my finger then slide it behind her ear, and she shudders. I talk slowly. “Hot. Wet. Begging me. All night. All morning.”

She inhales sharply and squirms in her chair.

“I’m going to lick your sweat. Drop by drop. When your thighs squeeze my neck or fingers dig into any part of my body, I’m going to bite you, suck you, and bite you some more.”

Her eyes light up, her chest rises faster, and heat flushes her face.

I trail my finger down her neck and across her shoulder. “The curve of your ass, where it meets your legs, I’m going to kiss when I have you on all fours. At the same time, I’ll be rubbing your clit so slow you’ll be crying.”

“Steven,” Maximillion booms next to me, and I jump.

Harper takes a long drink of water, and I turn.

“What do you want?” I bark.

“Since the camera is about to snap our photo and your boss has told you to play nice, I suggest you stand up and shake my hand.”

I cringe but do it. My intent is for it to be fast, but Maximillion grips my hand, spins me, and puts his other hand on my shoulder. “Smile,” he mumbles.

I force myself to smile, and the camera takes so many pictures, I get uncomfortable.

We stand almost eye to eye, and our frames are similar. As much as I loathe him, I hate it more that I have some of his features.

“That’s enough,” he says, and the photographers step aside and wait. “I’ll see you later, kid.”

“Prefer not,” I mutter.

Harper rises. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

“That was strange. Why did they take so many pictures? And he didn’t even ask who I was. That isn’t typical for a politician.”

“I’m not sure what he’s up to.”

The bell rings three times, and there is an announcement for everyone to take their seats.

My table is with co-workers, so I introduce everyone to Harper. Waiters soon serve salad and oversized, freshly baked rolls. They have a crusty outside but are warm and soft when you open them up. The main course is filet mignon, lobster tails, and so many side dishes, I don’t even try them all. Not that I have much of an appetite.

Most of the dinner, I spend drinking the hundred-dollar bottles of wine.

Dudmeyer sits next to me, and throughout the entire meal he raves about Maximillion and all his incentives.

When dinner is finished the MC steps on the stage and gives a rah-rah speech about how fabulous our current governor is and why we all need to vote for him again. Harper holds my hand and squeezes it. I put my arm around her, and she leans into me.

The scent of her calms me, so I take several large breaths.

The MC introduces Maximillion. I glance at his table and see my mom sitting straight up. She sits next to him. His wife adorns the other side, along with his children he claims. And my nausea intensifies.

The room stands and cheers for Maximillion, and I begrudgingly clap to appease my boss.

Harper follows suit.

The hoopla continues. The push for donations starts, and my boss taps the table in front of me. “Pull that checkbook out now.”

---