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He slipped his hand between her legs. "I don't think so." And then he lifted her.
She immediately impaled herself on him. "You son of a bitch."
He drove deep. "That's right, I'm a son of a bitch."
She rode him viciously. The phone on the desk began to ring, but they both ignored it. Harsh moans slipped from her throat as she grabbed his dark blond hair in her fists. He buried his face in her breasts while his fingers dug into her buttocks.
The ringing stopped and the answering machine clicked on.
She threw back her head and yelled as she shattered.
This is Valerie Calebow. I can't come to the phone right now. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible.
The machine beeped and then spoke. "Congresswoman, it's Stu Blake. I'm sorry to be calling so late, but…"
The voice droned on.
With a groan, Dan spilled himself inside her. She slumped against him as the message came to an end.
Beep.
Chapter 4
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Dan opened the refrigerator door, pulled out a quart of milk, and unscrewed the cap. Behind him he heard Valerie coming into the kitchen of the house they had once shared. Because he knew it would irritate her, he lifted the milk container to his lips and took a swig.
"For God's sake, Dan, get a glass," she said in that snotty voice he hated.
He took another swig before he screwed the cap back on and returned the container to the refrigerator. Resting the side of his hip against the door, he studied her. She had scrubbed the makeup from her face, revealing her sharp bone structure with a nose that was a bit long but well balanced by a high, smooth forehead. Her light brown hair, free of the silver barrette, fell almost to her shoulders, and her teenybopper clothes had given way to a midnight blue peignoir set trimmed in black lace.
"Where'd you get the cheerleading jacket?"
"My secretary's daughter. I told her I was going to a costume party." She lit a cigarette, even though she knew he hated being around smoke.
"This escapade tonight crossed the boundary into creepy. Sixteen-year-old girls haven't turned me on since I was twelve."
She shrugged and exhaled. "It was different, that's all."
Not so different, he thought. In one way or another, all of Valerie's sexual fantasies tended to lead toward male domination. Pretty damn funny considering the fact that she was a Class A ball buster. Unfortunately, the only person he could share the joke with was Valerie, and he knew she wouldn't laugh. Besides, she got all riled if he criticized any of these weird scenarios she set up, and they already had enough other things to fight about.
Her hand crept to her rear. She rubbed it through the dark blue silk and gazed at him with resentment. "You shouldn't have hit me so hard."
"Honey, I was holding back."
He could tell by her expression that she was trying to make up her mind whether to sink her teeth into him or not. Apparently she decided against it because she walked over to the small kitchen desk and began thumbing through the Filofax she had left there. "I don't have to be in Washington for a few more weeks. How's your schedule for the weekend?"
"I'll be at the Meadowlands. We're playing the Jets." He moved away from the refrigerator and took a banana from a stainless steel fruit bowl that looked like the terminal at Dulles.
She slipped on the pair of half-glasses that were lying on the desk and set her cigarette in a chunky black glass ashtray. "What about Thursday evening before you leave?"
"Meeting. Friday's all right, though."
"The vice president's going to be in town that night, and there's another reception."
"Wednesday night if we make it after midnight."
"That looks like it'll work. Except—" She slammed the book shut. "I'll have my period." Slipping off her glasses, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, took another drag from her cigarette, and said briskly, "We'll work around it. We have before."
