Crashing the Congressman’s Wedding (Crimson Romance) (14 page)

“I want you to be Alice, and I want you over here.” His voice went rough.

“Is that so?” She stepped closer, but then backed away as she rocked to imaginary music and dropped the shirt to the crooks of her arms. She hooked a finger beneath her bra strap and slipped it over her shoulder. “But if I come over there, you’ll miss the show.”

He groaned. “This is not going to end well?”

She pushed the other strap off her other shoulder and turned her back to him. “Why not?”

“I don’t have a condom.”

A few swings, and her capris slung low on her hips. “What a shame.” With a single finger hooked around the belt loop, she sent them sliding to the floor.

“Tell me about it.”

Ditching her sandals in a pile of denim, she turned and stepped toward him. “We can do other things.” The tails of her plaid shirt covered her lacy bikini bottoms. She knew better than to give an eager audience too much too soon.

He grinned as she sashayed toward him. “I can think of a few other things.”

“I bet you can.” She grabbed his shoulders and straddled his thighs, liking his rapid inhale. “I always thought the first live performance in my theatre would be Sondheim or Schwartz, not striptease.”

Justin clamped his hands around her waist. “I prefer this.”

“Hands off,” she said, swatting at him. When he grasped the armrests, she ditched her shirt.

His eyes widened and his breaths grew quicker still. “You always were a tease.”

She lowered her body to his lap, sitting squarely on his hardest point. “I’m sorry. I thought men liked that.” She rocked against him, bringing her hands behind her head, carrying the ends of her hair with them.

He dropped his head to the seatback behind him and groaned.

“I can always stop … teasing.”

“No.” He grabbed her waist again, grinding her against him. When she shot him a nasty look, he let go.

“Good boy.” She leaned forward, brushing her covered breasts against his chest, feeling her nipples tighten. “You can’t touch me, but I can touch you,” she whispered in his ear, licking his lobe. “I love a good double standard.”

She had every intention of sitting back and grinding him crazy, but as she sucked his lobe into her mouth, rubbed her chest against his and rolled her hips, the heat between her legs threatened to boil her alive.

“On second thought, you can touch me now.” She didn’t have to ask twice.

Justin yanked the cups of her bra over her breasts and bent his head, drawing her nipple into his mouth. He teased one breast with his tongue and the other with his hand.

She gripped his head, holding him to her heart. She was breaking every rule she’d ever made where Justin Mitchell was concerned, and she didn’t care. How could she when she was finally, torturously, witnessing a dream come true?

Tossing her head back, Alice moaned and ground her aching core against his erection. Shards of pleasure ripped through her breasts, pricking every inch of skin. She wished he had a condom. She wished she was on the pill. She wished …

For that. Justin slipped a hand inside her panties and rubbed the wet between her legs.

Alice whimpered, and with his open mouth over hers, he swallowed the sound. Pawing at his restricting clothes, she managed to loosen his tie and unbutton his dress shirt. But damn it if he wasn’t wearing an undershirt.

Her frustration grew. What she wouldn’t give to strip him bare, take him whole, share all his secrets.

He slipped a finger inside of her while he circled her sex with his thumb.
So good.
She rimmed his mouth with her tongue and buried her hands in his hair, finally giving in, knowing she was going to have to finish alone in order to have any chance at him.

Again he dipped his head, planting open-mouthed kisses along her neck to her chest, until he latched onto her nipple, driving her out of her body with a lick, a suck, a flick, a twirl.

The orgasm consumed her, like loving Justin always had.

• • •

Justin drew Alice to his chest, cradling her against him as she took one shaky breath after another. She pressed her lips to his neck, below his ear and sucked tiny kisses, kisses so small they shouldn’t have mattered. But they did. They rocked his soul. Like Alice did. Every look. Every touch. She reached places no one else could.

It had always been that way.

“Your turn,” she said in a voice more breath than sound.

Maybe it made him half a man, but he was content to stay like this awhile longer, so he held her there, on this lap, with his face in her velvet, vanilla-scented hair.

Time slowed. Seconds felt like hours. He reveled in the closeness, but then she tugged on his T-shirt, sliding it free of his waistband. The flutter of cotton against the skin below his navel tightened his erection. And when she slid back, balancing on the edge of his knees, working his belt buckle, giving him a front-row view of her glorious breasts, he was more than ready to move on to the next act.

Justin slipped his hands over her warm sides and reached around her back to unfasten her bra. He dropped the lace to the floor as Alice freed him from his pants. He had just enough time to brush her nipples hard again before she dropped to her knees between his thighs.

He’d dreamed of this, seeing Alice’s blond hair spilled across his lap, feeling her tongue at his tip. A jolt of pleasure shot through him when she swallowed him whole.

He gripped the armrests, watching her head bob, savoring the hot, wet pressure. Another groan and he wound his fingers through her hair, guiding her movement, teetering on a loss of control.

She looked at him, just a glance, and something in her eyes annihilated him.

Justin surrendered, but she stayed at his feet until the pulsing stopped. And when she climbed into his lap again and wrapped her arms around his neck, everything really had changed.

He didn’t want to keep his distance. He couldn’t after that. In all the upheaval, she was the only thing that was real and constant. She didn’t manipulate him. She didn’t make demands. She wanted him, not for what he could do
for her
, but for what he could do
to her
. He could handle that.

She curled against his chest, like his very own kitten of comfort. “Now what?” she purred.

They should do it again. In a bed. With a condom. And … Justin was getting ahead of himself. Maybe that wasn’t the sort of answer she was looking for. They’d never talked about what happened in the bed at the beach, or the kiss in the box office. Did they need to talk about those things before they talked about this?

He roved his hands over her bare back and breathed against her hair. “How about we just stay like this for as long as we can?” No outside pressures pulling them apart.

She laughed against his neck. “I’m too heavy. Your legs will fall asleep.”

Raising her off his chest, he stared hard into her shiny eyes. “You’re perfect.”

She smiled but lowered her eyes. “I’m already pretty much naked, Justin. You don’t have to lie to see my boobs.”

He smacked a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not lying. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She released a happy sigh and her eyelashes fluttered up at him. “You say all the right things, Congressman.” And then she burrowed her face into his neck.

Why’d she have to call him that now? Sitting in the front row of a dirty theatre with a half-naked woman on his mostly covered lap, he felt every bit the picture of a man fallen from grace. But what could he do? With her face pressed against his neck and her lashes brushing his skin, he filled with a sense of peace he couldn’t remember having before.

Before Alice, Congressman Mitchell led a life anchored by manipulations. While he worked hard on behalf of good people, his actions were really intended for Robert Parrish to gain power.

Justin didn’t want to go back to that — to life before Alice. The trouble was, Congressman Mitchell had a say. He held public office, had family obligations and an increasingly precarious image to protect. In the face of pressure like that, Justin doubted he was strong enough to claim this — claim her. And yet, none of those things made him feel half as powerful as holding Alice in his arms.

Maybe he’d underestimated the strength of Plain Old Justin.

• • •

This was a mistake.
Alice squeezed her eyes shut against Justin’s neck and fought the waves of nausea that came from weathering her manic moods. She loved him. And this would make it impossible to forget.

His hands smoothed up and down her back, stirring passion mixed with fear. What if she told him she loved him? What would he do? Would he keep doing this, holding her, touching her, making her feel like he loved her too?

She couldn’t bear him stopping, so she clenched her teeth in stern warning.
Keep your mouth shut, Alice. Enjoy the ride before life throws you off.

She’d already been rejected enough tonight. Thoughts of the lost grant mixed with Justin’s steady breathing. Without a character to play, she was back to being Alice, and being Alice wasn’t easy.

He kissed her shoulder, wrapped her tighter in his arms. On the other hand, being Alice wasn’t too bad when she was being treated like this.

But how long could this possibly last?

“Are you hungry?”

She pushed off his chest and studied his half-smiling face. “Are you being … cheeky?”

He laughed and dropped his hands to her ass for a squeeze. “No. I’m serious. Come home with me. I’ll cook.”

Her forehead tightened with a raise of her brows. “Are you sure?” She’d never stepped foot in his house. How would that look? Congressman Mitchell, entertaining Alice Cramer? And yet, after what just happened, what was still happening, something had changed, a shift in the dynamic that had been so successful at keeping them apart. She didn’t feel entirely unworthy anymore.

“Yes, I’m sure. I think we should talk more about this theatre, and what you’re going to do next. You’re certainly not getting rid of this chair. I like the chair. And the view.”

His hands roamed her sides, coming dangerously close to the outside curve of her breasts. “Really?” Her voice caught as he skimmed the skin beneath her arms. “So this is a … business dinner?”

“Serious business,” he countered, his mouth inches from hers. And then his thumbs brushed her nipples. “What do you say?”

“Okay.” She kissed him to remind herself of why she was willing to risk her heart again. The bottom line, mistake or not, she was going to enjoy this ride with Justin — even if it was the shortest ride of her life.

And in the process, maybe she’d figure out a way to save her theatre, too.

Justin was a dog person, a statement that had been true all his life. He was partial to coonhounds and anything else with a keen sense of smell and the quickness for tracking prey. It wasn’t so much about hunting — Justin hadn’t held a rifle since he was a boy. It was more about power, and the respect that came with being capable.

So why in the world was he holding two kittens while Alice poured litter into a box in the corner of his main floor laundry room?

“They are going to be so happy here,” she cooed, looking over her shoulder, her eyes melting into a puddle of ocean blue.

That was why. Hell, he was starting to realize he’d do just about anything for her. And that could be dangerous without some parameters. Thank God he had a built-in parameter — his return to Washington.

“What about when I’m back in D.C.?”

She sat on her heels with a huff. “They’ll be litter trained by then, and the theatre will be … better. They can stay there without getting hurt. And if that doesn’t work, Mouse will just have to deal.” She swiped her hands together a couple times. “Okay, let them down.”

The minute she scratched in the box, the kittens moved closer to investigate.

Unreal. How could a woman look sexy with her hands in a litter box? Justin shook his head, a little ruffled by the unorthodox twists in his head. “I’m going to make dinner. When you’re finished, you can help, but wash your hands first.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Because I needed that reminder.”

No, but he did. Otherwise she would’ve found herself with her back pressed against the laundry room floor.

They would eat first, and then talk. Once they had everything laid out, they could decide how to proceed — with parameters.

Two years ago, he ran on the platform
Plan today for a trouble-free tomorrow.
That was all he was trying to do now. This situation with Alice was … sticky. It didn’t mean it couldn’t work, it just meant he needed to be careful.

But not so careful he couldn’t enjoy himself. He reached overhead to drag the pasta pot off the shelf. If the last week showed him anything, it was that there was a limit to the trouble careful planning could prevent.

He set the pot on the counter and slid it toward the sink. Maybe the best thing he could do tonight was not worry or think too much. The thought alone had him exhaling. He wasn’t going to worry about what his family would think — though that was worrisome. He wasn’t going to think about where to go from here, because that was complicated. He was going to let tonight with Alice happen. And tomorrow … he’d help her with the theatre and enjoy her company whenever he could before his return to D.C.

This didn’t have to be a big deal.

“Okay. What can I do for you?” She smiled at him from the kitchen doorway.

One look at that face and his skin hummed.

It was a very big deal.

Resisting the urge to back her into his bedroom, he concentrated on the task at hand, filling the pot with water. “Grab a jar of sauce out of the long cupboard behind you.”

“What? You aren’t going to make it from scratch?” she teased as she reached into the cupboard then used her hip to close the door.

“I’ve never tasted a homemade sauce as good as the one that comes out of that jar.”

“That’s ’cause you’ve never tasted mine.”

He raised a brow at Miss Nacho Cheese Chips and Cola. “You make sauce from scratch?”

“I can … and I do … ” — she said, leaning on the block of granite beside him — “ … when it’s worth my while.”