Our Little Secret Part 19

Lauren thought she did a credible job of looking calm and collected, even though her heart pounded and her pelvis throbbed. The connection between them was only growing stronger, and it shocked her every time she felt it. It wasn't just s.e.xual-she admired Drew's resourcefulness and intelligence, and the way he kept his sense of humor in a crisis. But she wasn't about to downplay the s.e.xual part. It was new and powerful, and best of all, mutual. She intended to explore it in languorous detail, not in the desperate collision of bodies that this new, outrageous side of her seemed p.r.o.ne to.

Although they could try that, too. Lauren looked out the pa.s.senger window, chin propped in her hand to hide her grin.

Drew silently thanked Gerald for his Eagle Scout preparedness. The BlackBerry in the glove compartment contained every conceivable phone number, from the Georgetown dry cleaner to the president's secretary. Combined with IDs and pa.s.ses for nearly any government building in D.C., they were inside Senator Pierson's suite in the Dirksen Senate Building with barely enough time for Drew to lose the persistent erection he suffered whenever he touched Lauren.

Paul Pierson met them in the deserted corridor with open arms. "Meg, you luscious temptress, you decided to leave the old fart after all! You've made the right choice."

Drew inserted his arm between them as the senator attempted to wrap Lauren in an embrace. "Sorry, Senator, not this time. You can flirt all you want with Dad's wife, but this is her sister, Lauren. I wouldn't want her to think you're as lecherous as you pretend to be."

Pierson dropped his arms, but looked intrigued, staring first at Drew, then Lauren. "You're kidding."

Lauren shook her head. "I'm sorry about deceiving you at the emba.s.sy, but we had a good reason."

"That was you?" After another long, interested look at Lauren, Pierson asked, "Does Meg know about this?"

"No." Lauren shook her head.

"Harlan?"

"No," Drew answered.

"Huh. This should be good. Come on in and sit down. It's Sunday and the Senate recessed for a week, so we have the office to ourselves. I can offer you a drink, if you'll settle for Pepsi, 7-Up, or Nestea."

Drew caught Lauren's surprised glance as they followed him to his inner office, and smiled. "The senator's not the lush he appears. He also has a wife and six kids, so I hope he's not an adulterous lech, either."

"Hey now, son, don't give away my secrets. Just tell me why you two are going around Was.h.i.+ngton impersonating my favorite lady. Right after my wife and four daughters, that is."

Drew watched Lauren succ.u.mb to Pierson's charms and felt a twinge of jealousy. They weren't even lovers-not yet, anyway, an oversight he planned to correct soon-and already he felt proprietary. Lauren seemed to bring out all sorts of new feelings in him. But he had other important things to worry about now.

"This is confidential information, Senator. You can't talk about it with anyone, because we don't know yet who Dad and Meg are hiding from or why."

"Hiding from?" Pierson's expression grew serious. "Tell me."

They told the story the way Agent Chapman had related it to them, beginning with Senator Creighton's report to the Secret Service that someone was attempting to use another senator's indiscretions to buy votes, his idea to "marry" his secretary and continue seeing his current girlfriend in order to make himself a target, followed by Meg and Harlan's abrupt disappearance when the apparent blackmail was received.

They left out the X-rated photos in the safe-deposit box. Drew was fairly certain the pictures were what had been offered to buy Senator Creighton's silence, although he didn't understand how his father might be intimidated by proof that his wife had had a previous lover.

Pierson's sharp mind hadn't missed any of the implications. "That's an incredible story, son, but I don't see why you're so desperate to find Harlan and Meg. Why not wait for them to show up on their own?"

"Because they're so afraid of something they don't even trust the Secret Service to keep them safe," Drew told him. "Whoever tried to blackmail them must be pretty powerful if they don't feel safe with that level of protection."

"And they tried to convince us to stay out of it, to keep us us safe," Lauren added. safe," Lauren added.

"So naturally you want to get right in the middle of it."

"Someone has to," Drew told him.

He regarded them over his soft drink as he took a long sip, then set the can on his desk. "Okay, how can I help? I a.s.sume that's why you've told me about it. I'll do whatever I can."

"We're hoping you can give us a name," Drew said. "We have very few clues to go on. Maybe if we know which senator confided in my dad, it would help us figure out who might be trying to blackmail them."

"You mean tell you who might be cheating on his wife, so you can confront him?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Drew asked.

Pierson eyed him speculatively for several seconds, then shook his head. "No."

The senator rose and stood at the window, staring at the street below. Lauren gave Drew a worried look and he took her hand with a gentle, rea.s.suring squeeze while they waited for Senator Pierson to decide how much he could trust them.

Finally, Pierson turned. "I heard something recently that I discounted at the time. It may be nothing, but there is one person who could be in that sort of situation, and who would probably confide in Harlan before anyone else." Drew waited, while Pierson struggled with his reservations. "It has to remain strictly confidential."

"Of course."

"And remember, this is only speculation."

Drew nodded impatiently.

Pierson took a deep breath. "It could have been Senator McNabb."

Whatever name he expected, it wasn't that one. "Senator Charlene Charlene McNabb?" McNabb?"

"Yes, Charly. And I'm not going to tell you why I think so. If she wants to talk to you, she'll tell you. If not, well, rumors aren't always true."

What Drew knew about Charlene McNabb was the image she showed the entire country-a conservative wife, mother, and politician who fought hard for the very family values she personified. He couldn't imagine confronting the woman about possible s.e.xual dalliances, but if she was their only lead to finding his father and Meg, he'd have to do it.

They shook hands with Senator Pierson and promised to keep in touch. Guiding Lauren back through the empty corridors, Drew took an impulsive turn away from the elevators.

"This building connects with Hart. Let's stop by my dad's office while we're here."

"Why, will someone be there?"

"Probably not, but maybe if they wanted to get in touch they'd leave a message on his private phone, thinking no one else would get it." He shrugged. "It's a long shot, but we're already here, so why not check?"

They pa.s.sed a few people and saw several offices with doors open and lights on, but Senator Creighton's office was locked. Drew had never before used the key Gerald insisted he carry, but he silently blessed his dad's secretary for his obsessive precautions. He locked the door behind them while Lauren went to her sister's desk and replayed a droning string of phone messages.

"Nothing here. Try your dad's phone."

He bypa.s.sed the light switch for the inner office and turned on the small desk lamp instead. It provided more than enough light to see that the a.s.sistant office manager must have taken care of any messages that had come in. Nothing was on the machine.

Lauren's obvious dejection was a good excuse for him to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulder, and her disappointed sigh aroused his protective instincts. "Don't worry, we'll find them," he said, turning her toward his chest so he could run his other hand through the silky hair that lay against her cheek.

For no reason he could name, his brain conjured an image of Lauren among the wildflowers on the slope below his house and laughing in the bright suns.h.i.+ne that filled his Colorado kitchen. It must be some scent in her shampoo, one of those herbal concoctions with fanciful names like "Spring Breeze" or "Mountain Suns.h.i.+ne," that triggered memories of home.

Lauren cuddled closer, her head falling softly against his chest. He went from protective to predatory in two seconds, and it seemed impossible that she could keep up with that electric jolt of l.u.s.t.

He used both hands to cup her face as he whispered, "Lauren?"

The eyes she raised to him were hazy green in the yellowish lamp light, clouded with desire. Drew's heart rate shot up. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

When he lowered his head to kiss her, she met his mouth willingly, slipping her arms around him and pressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest. His hands slipped beneath her thin cotton s.h.i.+rt, thumbs stroking the sides of each soft mound. The satisfied little "Mmm" sound she made only excited him further. Desire escalated to frantic need. He wanted to touch her all over, then sink into her hot center and never leave it. He wanted her naked, now.

"Lauren," he said, breaking away from her mouth and murmuring into her hair as he kissed her neck, her ear. "This isn't the best place."

Her voice was breathy, words catching in her throat. "I know. It's the office of a United States senator. It's not the best time or place, but I can't wait." Her voice dropped to a near moan and she pressed her forehead against his chest, as if bracing herself against pain. "Oh G.o.d, Drew. I want you now."

He groaned with antic.i.p.ation. "Good, but I meant we don't have to do it here. There's an adjoining room with a bed."

"A bed?"

"A place for my dad to crash during long sessions and committee hearings. It's not big, but then I don't think we'll need much room. We're going to be very close together."

"Hmm."

It sounded so ambivalent he feared she'd just lost interest. He'd probably been stupid to propose using his father's bed, especially after she'd said it felt wrong to want him while they were in a Senate office. d.a.m.n. He suspected she wasn't as proper as she pretended, but he'd pushed it too far. He should- She gave his shoulders a shove and he fell back into his father's desk chair. "I think I like it better right here."

"Huh?" He looked up into eyes sparkling with mischief as she straddled his knees and leaned into him, hands braced on the chair arms.

"I don't want to use your father's bed. You bring out something different in me, Drew." She lifted a hand to trace random lines across his chest, sending messages straight to his groin. "Something a little wild. Uncaged. A bed would be all wrong for that image, don't you think?"

"Absolutely. What was I thinking?" He might have made one stupid a.s.sumption, but he was a fast learner.

Her secretive smile was turning him on as much as anything else. Right now the anything else was her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, which arched toward him as she twisted to look around the office. "This place is so stuffy and proper. It makes me want to break a few rules."

He smiled and ran his thumbs across the tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, delighting at the feel of her nipples hardening through her clothes. "Lauren, I can't believe how badly I've underestimated you."

"Mmm, well, don't worry, I'm about to let you make up for that." She backed up a step, out of his reach, her hands closing over the hem of her top. In one smooth move she whipped it over her head and dropped it to the floor.

He took a deep breath and groaned, his desire growing by the second.

She smiled, serene and confident. The only hint of excitement lay in her rapid, shallow breaths and flushed cheeks, and he knew they only hinted at the energy beneath the surface.

He was hard as a rock. He should have guessed there were hidden depths here. She was too intriguing, too contrary to be the responsible, proper woman she wanted the world to see. And Drew was curious as h.e.l.l to see just how improper Lauren Sutherland could be.

Part of her couldn't believe how bold she'd become, stripping her top off and propositioning Drew in the office of the most powerful senator in the country. Another part of her reveled in the surge of power she felt every time she saw l.u.s.t flare in his eyes. The irony didn't escape her-after years of being the good girl and setting the right example, it turned out she was as s.e.x crazed as Meg.

She was fine with that. She was done with a s.e.x life that was planned in advance down to every boring day and time. Spontaneity was her new mantra. Like the impulse she'd had when she looked at Senator Creighton's expansive desk with its neat stack of files at each end and all that lovely, uncluttered s.p.a.ce in between. All she could think of was grabbing Drew, spreading her legs over some pending legislation and having wonderfully inappropriate s.e.x.

She took Drew by surprise, but he was catching on fast. Pulling her back against his knees, he slipped his fingers inside her bra, popped out one eagerly swollen breast, and lowered his mouth.

Silky, wet heat surrounded her and she swayed dizzily. The man knew how to use his mouth, and wanton impulses flooded her pelvis with each tug on her nipple. She moaned happily.

"Good?" he murmured, switching sides.

"Incredible." The pressure between her thighs turned into a tickle that made her wiggle against his knees. Drew seemed able to get her from interested to panting a lot faster than she'd expected. She reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. Slipping it free from between their bodies, she flung it aside, the bra catching on the corner of the picture frame behind Senator Creighton's desk. Thomas Jefferson now had a lightly padded B-cup tilted rakishly over one eye. But he didn't seem to mind, and knowing Senator Creighton's reputation, she thought it might not be the first bra tossed in that room.

"Nice one," Drew said. "Try the jeans next." His fingers worked at her zipper.

She grabbed a handful of s.h.i.+rt and pulled him out of his chair. "Not until you catch up."

"No problem." He had his s.h.i.+rt off in seconds and went back to her zipper, pulling jeans and panties down in one swipe. She laughed, trying to toe her shoes off and getting tangled in her jeans. "Help."

He boosted her bare a.s.s onto the desk, her b.u.t.t cheeks resting squarely on cool, polished mahogany. "Stop kicking," he said, and knelt to pull off her shoes, then finished stripping off her jeans. He rose, eyes holding hers as he stepped out of his own shoes and unfastened his pants. All that eye contact was heart-fluttering and romantic, but there was no way she was going to miss her first close-up of that lean, hard body.

His mouth slid into a crooked smile. "Let me know when you're done looking."

"We don't have that long. I'll look some more later." Hooking her legs around his thighs, she pulled him close until his erection ran into her abdomen. "Almost," she croaked. "A little lower."

"Not yet."

She sucked in her breath as a thought occurred to her. "You're right, I forgot all about protection. I hope you brought something."

"Are you kidding? I brought several somethings. And I'll put one on just as soon as you get ready."

"Now would be good."

He chuckled. "Patience." One hand moved from her hip to caress between her legs, releasing a hot rush of need as she nearly collapsed onto the desk. She propped herself on her elbows, breathing hard. He leaned over her, stroking her into a blissful, preo.r.g.a.s.mic haze.

"Right on the desk, eh?" he asked.

She nodded, then gasped as his finger slid deep inside her, making her s.h.i.+ver with pleasure. When he drew it out and traced a wet line upward, she closed her eyes and panted in shallow, shaky breaths.

"Jesus, Lauren," he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers, kissing her between words. "You're more than ready."

She looked into the blue eyes so close to her own. "Legislation turns me on."

His eyes sparkled. "Really? In that case, maybe I should recite the Bill of Rights. Or should I just"-his finger moved lower again, slipping inside her as his hand pressed and circled-"do this."

"Do that," she croaked, then bit her lip as a second finger joined the first. She wanted to tell him to stop, to put himself inside her, that he was going too fast, but seconds later waves of ecstasy rolled through her, and her muscles tightened around his fingers until she went limp. She opened her eyes.

He was smiling. "I think you're ready now."

"I think you missed it."

His fingers left her as he searched his jeans pocket for a condom and put it on. "I'll catch the next one."

"I hate to tell you, but one is all I get."

"We'll see," he said.

He pressed himself against her, smiling as her eyes widened, and she began to think he might be right. She spread her thighs wider and hooked her heels behind him, aching for him to complete the penetration. She'd just reached o.r.g.a.s.m on a senator's desk, which seemed appropriate for her new wild and uncaged life, and she was about to do it a second time. She felt liberated. In fact, if she had the chance, she'd do it in yet another inappropriate location...

"Wait!" She sat up, nearly b.u.mping heads with Drew.

"What's wrong?"

"I changed my mind. I want to do it on the floor."

He squinted like he was having a hard time focusing on her words. "You want to move now now?"