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  I let out one huge scream, sounding like someone was murdering me, as the last overwhelming waves of my orgasm rocked out of me.

  His tongue reached out and flicked my clit when it was over, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. I rocketed to the top of the couch to get away from his touch, my body pulsing and seizing from the physical trauma of a world-class orgasm like I’d never thought possible even in my wildest fantasies. I was bawling and moaning at the same time. I was like a crazed, trapped animal, ready to run from the room. If only I had the energy.

  He fixed me with a devilish look and started to crawl up towards me.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped. “Get away from me,” I said, nearly begging now. He had rose petals stuck to his chest and stomach. I looked down and saw a bunch of them on me, too.

  “Shut up and kiss me, Rose,” he said, getting closer and closer.

  “Your mouth is dirty,” I whispered, both repulsed and excited by the idea of tasting us both on his tongue.

  “You like it that way,” he said, inches away.

  “I don’t even know your name,” I said, my last ditch effort to stop the inevitable. I could already smell both of us on his lips.

  “My name is Alex. Alexander Blackstone,” he said, covering my mouth with his.

  The fact that he shared the same name as my local congressman didn’t cross my mind until much later.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A banging came at the door as I was pulling my dress over my arms. My head shot up in panic. I’d avoided the post-steamy-sex embarrassment as much as possible by keeping my back to Alexander from the moment I’d gotten up off his couch. My plan was to get the hell out of his office and back to the party to retrieve Jessica as fast as I could. Then I was going to insist she get her in car and take me back home so I could search the classified section online and find a real job - one that didn’t involve hot men in expensive, tailored suits convincing me with little effort that I should strip down to nothing and have crazy sex in a back room in the middle of a party.

  Alexander had been getting dressed behind me, not saying a word. I could hear the rustle of his heavily starched shirt as he pulled it onto his arms and across his back. I refused to allow myself to visualize, for more than five distracted seconds, his rock hard abs or thin waist that led down to the nicest ass I’d ever seen. I was liable to turn around and try to put my hands on him again. Apparently, my shame knew no limits.

  I was thinking I’d have a chance at pretending this had never happened if I could just focus on getting dressed, out that door, and back in the car without too many people seeing me. A stop-off in a bathroom would have been nice too, but if I saw an opening, I was going to beeline it to the front door and go without the cleaning up I desperately needed. The less time I was there, the less chance there was of me being seen by someone who might know me or being discovered as the back-room-girl.

  But now, someone was just outside his office door, and whoever it was, he or she was going to catch me in here looking freshly fucked and the room smelling probably like a brothel. Oh, ground, why won’t you please open up and swallow me already? Hasn’t my humiliation reached high enough levels for you yet?

  Alexander stepped closer until he was just behind me and said loudly towards the door, “One moment please!” He lifted my hair up gently off my shoulders, pulling the ends of it from inside the back of my dress. I could feel his breath on my neck and it sent shivers down my spine.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice not quite working properly for some reason. I reached up, thinking I was going to fix my hair somehow, but as soon as I touched the hard, tangled clumps of curls, I knew there was no hope for it. “Do you have a back door in this place by any chance?” I asked, not turning around.

  “No,” he said, simply. “Just go sit down in one of those chairs, and I’ll take care of this.”

  I looked in time to see him gesturing towards his desk. I hurried to take the chair on the left side, hoping to be seated before whoever it was came in. Maybe then I wouldn’t look quite so messy and out of sorts. I sat down and smoothed my dress over my thighs, trying to get a handle on the quivering that was still happening all over my body, aftershocks of the earth-shattering orgasm that had just rocked my world.

  I cringed at the wetness I felt coming out to stain my panties. Please, don’t make me stand up right now! But what if the wetness gets on my dress so people can see it! Maybe I should stand now so it doesn’t! I was half-up out of the seat now and half-down, trying to figure out which would be the least damaging to my reputation in the end.

  I gave up trying to guess my future a second later and sat down. My legs were too quivery for standing right now, anyway.

  I sighed. There was a science to executing a quickie properly, and I obviously didn’t know it. Maybe with practice I could act cooler about it, but that would probably require more embarrassing moments like these, and I didn’t think my heart could manage it. I was falling apart over maybes and might bes, reality no longer meaning anything to me.

  Alex reached the other side of the room and opened the door. I didn’t even turn around, hoping to remain anonymous to whoever was standing there with him.

  Voices came from the doorway right away in low, urgent tones, but I could hear them clearly, able to tell right away that whoever it was, he was very agitated.

  “Alex, you need to come right away. We’re having a serious problem out here.”

  “Take your problem to Fisher. That’s what I pay him for.”

  “Fisher is already in the middle of it. But this isn’t just a security issue. It involves Jacqueline.”

  “Shit,” said Alex, sounding even more aggravated than he had before. “What the hell does she want now? And how did she even get in? I left specific instructions to keep her out. Her credentials are no good with us any longer.”

  “She came with Senator Flint. We couldn’t very well turn her away at the door when she’s hanging on his arm, could we?”

  “No,” Alex sighed heavily. “Dammit! Alright, that’s fine. I’ll be out in a minute. Thanks, Ken.”

  The stranger cleared his throat once before saying in a lower voice. “Will you be alone?”

  “Of course. See you in two.”

  The sound of the door closing quietly and hard footsteps across the floor made my heart leap with anxiety. My face was burning with shame. I was the dirty little secret in the office that no one could know about. I wanted to slink out of this palace of a house and never come back. The question is, how am I going to do it without being seen? Aren’t palaces supposed to have secret exits? Tunnels leading to the other side of the street maybe?

  As Alex’s angry face came into view, I wondered who Jacqueline was and why he didn’t want her at his party. He must hate her a lot for her arrival to make him this upset. Maybe she was an ex-wife or something. Please, do not let her be a current wife! The idea of being a slut was one thing … but an adultering slut was too much. My mother would have turned over in her grave. I resisted the urge to fan my flaming face.

  He walked past me and around his desk, sitting down on the other side of it and opening a drawer, not even looking at me.

  Part of me wanted to slide down into the chair in shame and the other wanted to lean across the space between us and slap him. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was mad at him for ignoring me or if it was because I was mad at myself for caring that he was. I was so confused right now I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or have a breakdown.

  Get a grip on yourself, Rose. This guy is so far out of your league it isn’t even funny. Just find your hair pins and get the hell out of here before anyone else catches you. I thought of Jessica and had to smile. She was probably out there looking for me everywhere, thinking I was hiding in a bathroom, afraid some guy was going to proposition me. Little did she know…

  “You can wait here for a few minutes and then leave after I’ve gone.” He finally looked up at me. His face held
no expression, save cold steely anger. “As you probably heard, I have something I need to take care of. I apologize for not seeing you out myself.”

  I nodded dumbly, not knowing what to say. At least he sounded genuinely sorry.

  He took his wallet out of his coat pocket and opened it up. “You’re one of Corrigan’s girls, right?”

  My mouth opened but no words would come out so I nodded again.

  He pulled out a wad of cash and stuffed it into an envelope, along with a business card he’d taken from his top drawer. He closed the flap and put it down on the desk, sliding it over in my direction. “Here. I assume that will be sufficient.”

  I stared at it, more red heat burning up my face and neck. “What’s that?” I asked, my voice sounding sickeningly weak to my ears.

  “A tip. I appreciate your work tonight. You’re good at what you do.” He lifted an eyebrow at me ever so slightly, and we stared at one another, saying nothing.

  A million thoughts were flying through my mind, and a few choice phrases battled to be spoken; but rather than give them any volume, I kept my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself. I couldn’t trust that I wouldn’t completely freak out if I started talking now. Just be cool for five more minutes. Then you can get the hell out of this place and quit this stupid job and never look back.

  He stood a moment later and adjusted his tie, pulling on the front of his jacket and then on the bottom of his sleeves, transforming himself from the sexy animal I’d just been fucked soundly by into the cold, hard, emotionless businessman I’d met out in the party.

  My heart sunk, and I felt sick to my stomach. I’m officially a hooker now. Paid for sex. My worst nightmare come true, and it’s all my fault. I should have listened to my gut. I should have told Jessica she was nuts and stayed home.

  “You can find your way out, I assume?” he asked, hesitating only a second before moving towards the door. He could have been talking to a business associate, his voice was so devoid of any feeling.

  I felt the heat of our passion completely leave my body to be replaced by ice. “Yes,” I answered, my voice sounding as cold as his had.

  The sound of the door opening and closing behind me without any more words from Alexander confirmed that I’d allowed myself to be used and treated like a cheap piece of ass, not even worth the simple courtesy of an escort to the door. I slowly took the envelope from the top of the desk, opening the flap and flipping through its contents. Five hundred bucks. Well, maybe not so cheap … but still, just a piece of ass. I had only myself to blame for it. But I was a big enough girl to move past it and learn from my mistakes. Starting right this second.

  I stood and straightened my dress, ignoring the pins on the floor and the rose petals strewn all over the place. I put the envelope still full of money back down on his desk. It was tempting; I thought of all the books it would buy for my last semester and the tuition it could pay. But in the end, I decided that I’d had sex for the fun of it, not for the money. He couldn’t turn me into a prostitute if I didn’t allow him to. And I’m no hooker, dammit.

  It wasn’t my problem if he had misunderstood. And having spontaneous, hot sex in the middle of his party in his office sure as hell didn’t mean I expected him to be my boyfriend or my keeper. I’m a modern woman. I can have sex whenever and wherever I feel like it. Besides, I’d rather work at a fast food joint than take that money. I pushed it farther away from me so he’d see it when he sat down again.

  I nodded my head firmly, knowing I’d made the right choice. There was a mirror over the wet bar, so I walked over to survey the damage caused by our roll in the hay. My hair was a riot of curls and frizz, and my dress was a tiny bit wrinkled, but I didn’t care. I was going to walk out of that party with my head held high, just like I imagined Jessica would if she were in my shoes. I am a sex goddess in high heels with bad hair, and if Alexander Blackstone doesn’t like it, he can kiss my big white butt.

  I stepped out of the office and into the hallway, expecting to hear all kinds of noise or a ruckus or something; but all that greeted me was silence. I made my way down the hall, passing right by the artwork and perfectly applied venetian plaster, something I’d normally stop and admire since it’s a craft my father used to practice before he died. My priorities were to find Jessica and then get the heck out of there, preferably without anyone seeing the back of my dress which I feared had a stain on it. I rounded the corner and entered the foyer, stopping for a moment as my eyes took in the scene before me.

  A group of people were standing near the front door. At the center was a woman wearing a bright blue dress, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed, diamonds flashing at her fingers and around her neck. She was holding onto the arm of a politician I remembered seeing on television several times. In one of my public relations classes we’d studied spin doctoring, and one of the videos had featured this guy’s campaign manager.

  I searched my memory for who he was. What’s his name … come on, come on … something like Stone or Granite or … Flint! That’s it. Arnold Flint. He must be Jacqueline’s date, which would make that Jacqueline.

  Alexander was speaking to them, but his back was to me, so I couldn’t see if he was still angry or if he was faking being a happy, welcoming host. If he were my public relations client, I’d tell him to plaster a smile on his face and never lose it. It was seriously powerful stuff, and his other look - the one I saw in the office - was way too scary for parties.

  I studied Jacqueline from where I was standing. She had a haughty air about her and was obviously very sure of how gorgeous and sophisticated she looked and feeling very confident about being there in Alexander’s house. I could almost sense a proprietary air in the way she looked around at the people gathered near her. Apparently, Alexander not wanting her there didn’t matter one bit to her. It almost seems as if she’s taunting him. Hmmmm… I sensed a history there that may or may not include envelopes of money. I smiled, proud that I’d left the one he’d offered me behind me on the desk. I was willing to bet she would have taken it and signed up for the next round.

  I spared a moment to scan the rest of the crowd that had started to increase, almost exponentially. My roommate was not one of them, unfortunately, so I began to formulate a plan for getting out of the house and back home without her. Or maybe I could just wait by her car for her to come out. Would the valet let me do that?

  I started skirting the edge of the foyer, headed towards the door. All I had to do was get around the crowd and I’d be home free. I kept my eyes on the prize, focusing on not tripping in my heels or otherwise calling attention to myself.

  Before I’d gotten five steps, flashes of light came through the front door. Dammit! What the heck is this now? I stopped in my tracks.

  “Excuse me! Mr. Blackstone! I’m on the guest list!” came a voice from just outside the door. “I’m not being permitted in!”

  All heads in the foyer turned to face the voice. More flashes of light came in through the door.

  Flashbulbs? The press is here? My eyes widened at the thought of being caught with my hair and dress a shambles for the front page of the paper. Holy shit. I have to get out of here now! I looked around, frantically trying to find another exit, but the only way out I could see was the office behind me or the door in front of me. Everyplace else was blocked by the group of people growing bigger by the second.

  I took two more steps towards the door, but froze when I saw Jacqueline’s gaze swing my way. Her head stopped when her eyes landed on me. They quickly narrowed into slits, going from surveying to targeting. From where I was standing I could actually see her lips press together into a thin line. I was in her crosshairs.

  Busted! I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. I wanted to run, hide, be anywhere but here. This woman was trouble, I could smell it from across the room. She might have been holding onto the arm of Senator Flint, but from the moment I’d seen her standing in the doorway, I knew she only had eyes for Alexander. And now she’d cau
ght me sneaking out, or trying to sneak out, from behind him.

  I watched in horror as she separated herself from her date and pushed past Alexander to come towards me. I considered making a break for it, but the look in her eye stopped me along with the four inches of heel that made it impossible for me to move at faster than a walking pace. She knew she had me, and she was intending to scrape me over the coals or somehow humiliate me, that much was clear.

  I took a deep breath and readied myself for the inevitable interaction. No one can make a fool of me unless I let them. I am a public relations and marketing professional! I am an educated woman, and I am not a prostitute! I thanked the lucky stars that something inside me had urged me to leave the money. I was sure that if it were in my hand right now, I’d be too ashamed to face this she-devil down; and she was the kind of person, I could tell already, who would have no problem mentioning it in front of everyone. Anything that would give her the upper hand would be a weakness I didn’t want to have.

  She stopped when she was just a few feet away from me. Without any preamble at all, the dance began.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. “And what are you doing coming out of Alex’s study?”

  I didn’t answer right away. I took my time, looking her over, gathering my thoughts and making her wait. I’d learned some techniques and heard some words of wisdom from my professors in some of my classes, all of which were coming back to me as flashes of brilliance. Show no weakness. Fake it until you make it. Altitude is all about attitude. I squared my shoulders and schooled my features to look bland and uninterested. I was going to totally convince the world that my hair looked like it did on purpose.

  Her hair had been highlighted by someone who probably charged her a fortune. It looked as natural as if she’d just spent a month in Jamaica. The Botox injected between her eyes was doing a find job of smoothing away the fine wrinkles that might have been foolish enough to try and become a part of her face. Not a single hair was out of place on her head, and I was pretty sure it was that way without the use of a whole can of hairspray, unlike my own. But she was wearing a hideous shade of red lipstick that would have looked amazing on Jessica but just made her look like a clown.