A Scandalous Affair

“Rushmore, Chad. I…uh, don’t have a reservation,” he added.

The woman frowned for a moment, then her expression cleared like a cloud passing over the hillside. “Well, Mr. Rushmore, you’re in luck. My reserved clients aren’t due until the weekend. I have three rooms to choose from—one facing the garden, one along the side—but very private, and one on the ground floor, which gives you easy access to all of our amenities.”

“We’ll need two rooms.”

“One,” Simone piped in, and squeezed Chad’s hand.

He looked down into her eyes, saw her intentions reflected there. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly under his breath.

Simone nodded.

“One room, please,” he uttered, his voice low and personal, his gaze fixed on Simone’s face.

After checking in and exploring the accommodations, Simone and Chad took a tour of the grounds, then sat for a while in the cozy den, talking about his impending trip and looking into the flames that pulsed in the fireplace.

But the inevitable, the underlying reason for their being there arrived, no longer held back by time and circumstance. And almost as if by tacit agreement, they left the room with the fire and danced to one of their own making.

There was no hesitation, no fumbling moments of embarrassment. It was as if they, this time between them, had always been, only waiting for the perfect moment to expose itself.

Chad walked toward Simone as she stood framed in the moonlit window. Watching him come to her, she imagined him as the dark knight, the virile seducer. Her mouth curved into a smile of invitation.

His right hand, smooth for a man, reached out and tenderly stroked her cheek, cupping her chin, easing her face closer.

A warm breath was all that stood between them and their first kiss, as Simone raised her mouth to taste his. Sweet, shocking sensation rippled through her limbs, the energy, the heat of it pooling in her center. A lightness of being, that’s what she thought through the waves of euphoria.

Chad pressed the full length of his body against her. Every line, every curve, every dip was defined, one fitting within the other. She felt the distinctive pulse of his erection swell against her stomach. She wanted him lower, needed to feel him between the heat of her thighs. But she couldn’t rush this. Tonight was to be taken slow, savored and sipped like a fine wine.

So they toyed with each other, from tender nibbles on exposed necks, to long deep kisses lavished over yearning mouths, to hungry fingers seeking warm flesh. They taunted and played, laughed, sighed and groaned, danced against the moonlight, their beautiful naked bodies gleaming like polished wood sculpture in its glow.

When Chad cradled her body against him and gazed down into her eyes, Simone was certain, at that instant, he had more than entered her body, he’d penetrated her soul, the only thing separating them was the thin sheath of latex.

The exquisite shock of it set her entire being ablaze. She became sensation, gratefully submitting to the push and pull of him. But Chad wouldn’t give himself over that easily.

He slowed his dance inside her until he barely moved at all. The thrust was almost indiscernible, which made it all the more maddening. She felt her walls clamp around the length and breadth of him, demanding that he fill her, complete her, satisfy her.

In turn, she raised and lowered her hips in a slow, sensual spiral and reveled in her power when he groaned in sublime agony, trapped within the deep, wet hollow that made him shudder, advance and retreat, and urge in a hot whisper to give him more of the same.

But still Chad refused to succumb to the temptation that writhed beneath him. Her hot passion spurred him on. He wanted to hear her moans, her sighs, the sound of his name on her lips. And he made it happen over and over again as he dipped deep and long into the honey, then pulled away until only the tip touched her throbbing outer flesh.

Her body trembled, heated. Tighter she gripped her thighs around his waist to capture the pleasure that rose at a blinding speed within her.

“Let go,” he whispered in her ear. “Let go and come to me.” He cupped her breasts completely, capturing her peaked nipples between his fingers. And the heat began, starting at her toes, winding its way along the lines of her strong legs, settling for a moment in her hips, rising to the pit of her stomach, then returning to that hot, dark, damp place where she held him, exploding in a torrent of white light and pulsing, shuddering release.

Chad held her there, suspended, wouldn’t let her go, turned up the heat with a deeper thrust, pulled her closer, sealed their bodies, letting his empty completely into hers.

For several moments they lay there, locked together in the final throes of aftershock, the tiny tremors continuing, their breath pushed out in deep, hot riffs.

And they kissed, touched, slept, still connected.

The blare of a car horn jerked Simone out of her daydream. Blinking quickly and shaking her head to clear the vision, she eased across the intersection.

Her heart was racing and she could feel a distinct wetness between her legs.

Chad.

Sure, there’d been other men in the four years since that single night. Some momentarily took her mind away from him, but generally not for long.

Chad.

Tonight would be the first time she’d seen him since she watched him board the plane to Uganda. Four years. Things changed. People changed. Had he? Had they?

No strings, remember?

Chapter 3

Vaughn wearily changed out of her fitted navy blue suit and hung it among the rows of other tailored suits and dresses that filled her walk-in closet. She pulled in a long breath. Somehow, she’d have to ease into the next gear and raise her energy level if she expected to play hostess.

Her day at her congressional office had been grueling at best. The phone rang nonstop from seven-thirty that morning with calls from reporters, her constituents and colleagues, all wanting to know how she felt about the latest instance of police shootings—and most of all, her feelings about her stepdaughter Samantha’s caustic statements.

Her head throbbed as she padded barefoot to the bathroom and popped two extra-strength Tylenols without water.

She gazed intently at her reflection in the goldframed mirror. An attractive, deep brown face confronted her. She could see the fatigue in the subtle puffiness around her almond-shaped eyes and the tension that drew a deepening furrow between her tapered brows. Vaughn slowly turned away at the sound of the bedroom door opening, then closing.

A sudden, familiar warmth inched its way through her body and a smile eased across her full mouth.

She stepped out of the bathroom. The expectation and excitement she felt the first night she’d met Justin Montgomery still made her heart race six years later.

The instant he saw her, all the tension melted from his body and he remembered all over again why he’d married her. Vaughn was everything he’d wanted in a woman. She was intelligent, sensitive, determined, beautiful and the most incredible lover. Even in her forties, Vaughn Hamilton-Montgomery could give these young girls a run for their money.

“Hey, baby,” he crooned, quickly wishing that the rest of the night would be theirs and not shared with the arrivals of their daughters and Chad. But that was selfish. Unfortunately, when it came to Vaughn, that was the way he felt.

Vaughn crossed the carpeted floor and became enveloped in Justin’s strong embrace. Instinctively, his long fingers gently kneaded the taut muscles of her back, then her neck.

Languidly, she lifted her chin, her rich mouth eagerly awaiting to be baptized by his.

The kiss was slow and sweet, the tenderness born from years of knowing each other flowed through them.

Marriage was bliss, Vaughn thought, feeling her body warm to a sizzle, and she wouldn’t change a thing—except the loss of their baby. For that she would always blame herself—her drive and her ambition—the catalysts for her marriage. She’d known how much Justin wanted a child between them, and she’d deprived him as surely as if she’d told him no. And now it was too late, she was sure. They’d made love without protection for all the years of their marriage—and nothing.

She held him tighter, lingered over the kiss a bit longer. Every day, for the rest of their life together, she would make it up to him. That was a promise she had no intention of breaking.

Justin, with a groan deep in his throat, reluctantly moved away. He gazed down into her eyes.

“You look tired, babe.” He brushed her shoulder-length hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Rough day, huh?”

Vaughn released a heavy sigh. “That’s putting it mildly. It was totally draining.” She took a seat at her dressing table, crossed her ankles and swiveled the chair to face Justin. “There’s going to be trouble, Justin.”

He slowly nodded and lowered his muscular frame onto the edge of the bed. “I know. And it looks as if our daughters are going to be right in the front of the line.”