A Political Affair (22 page)

“Can I admit to some performance anxiety?”

“
You
?” She lifted her head to look him in the eye. She thought of the handful of guys she’d been with compared to what had to be a multitude of women for him. “
I’m
the one with performance anxiety.”

“You have no reason to be anxious.” He shook his head with a shy smile. “But I’ve got it on two counts.”

“Two? How so?”

“First of all, and to be expected, I’ve wanted to be with you for so long.” He stroked her hair. “I’m a little nervous now that the time has arrived.”

“I’m familiar with that feeling,” she said with a chuckle, but it was a mask. She was deeply touched he’d admit something like that to her.
 

“Plus, I’ve got another problem.” He smiled and nodded to a spot across the room. “I’m not good at lighting that stove.”

“Come on.” She pushed his arm.

“I’m serious. I’ve got two issues. I’m worried at being too slow and too fast.”

“So you’re worried you’ll light the stove too quickly?” She smirked.

“Yeah, right . . .” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m joking.” She smiled. Using his coat as leverage, she pulled him closer and stood on her toes to kiss him.
 

His lips were hungry for hers, and the spark between them flared once again. This time, though, there were no boundaries. She felt free in his arms, and her nervousness soon disappeared, leaving only unmet desire.

He hummed and murmured, “This is too good. Please don’t make me light that fire first.”

“I won’t.” She stepped away, and staring him down, she slowly pulled her turtleneck over her head. She tossed it aside and shook her hair out, but when she tried to look him in the eye again, his sights were set a bit lower. His attention was elsewhere. A hungry smile appeared on his face as he stared at her chest.

Her bra did nothing to enhance the size of her breasts, but the thin lacy material showed them off perfectly. She’d chosen it for a reason.
 

He ran a finger across the edge of the lace. “You’re so beautiful, but you’ve got to be cold,” he whispered.

 
“I’m okay.” She reached behind her back, undid her bra, and tossed it aside.
 

Lowering his head, he fixated on her breasts, and she ran her hands through his hair. Her body was the center of his attention, giving her a rush like no other.
 

“I need to touch you,” he said in a raspy voice.
 

“I want you to.”

Sometime long after the sun rose, Anne stepped out of the bathroom into the warm room and saw Stephen with his eyes closed again. She smiled. “I’m glad you’re getting some rest, but don’t you need to at least check in with someone? What if North Korea bombs us or something?”

He opened one eye and smiled. “Megan will tell me. She and Greg know only to bother me about work if there’s a nuclear attack.” He patted the pillow next to him. “Come back to bed.”

“Okay,” she said and sprang to his side in glee.

After making love, talking, and sleeping a little more, his stomach growled. She kissed the spray of black hair on his chest. “You’re hungry, babe. You should eat.”

“Maybe. What about you?” he asked. He was more focused on playing with her hair as it shone in the sunlight.
 

“I could eat something. We should take a shower first though. We probably reek of sex.”

He raised his eyebrows and gave her chest a combination of sniffs and kisses. “Yes, you do,” he said, and kissed her lips. “In the best possible way.”

She giggled and touched his face. “Well, you do, too, and you smell of me, I might add.”

“And I like it.”

With a grin, she kissed him. “I
really
liked it.”

“Hmm,” he said after the kiss. “Let’s get cleaned up, eat, and then come back here. What do you think?”

“Sounds good. Are we going to get grief from Megan and Marco for being antisocial?”

“Doubt it. I bet they haven’t spent much time outside their bedroom either. According to Marco, they’re working on getting pregnant.”

“Really? That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, it’ll fun to be an uncle, and my mom will be over the moon when she’s a grandmother.” As he finished his sentence his belly rumbled again.

She rubbed his stomach. “Time to eat. Do you want to take a shower first?”

“I think we should take one together. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone,” he answered, waggling his eyebrows.

“Sounds good, but where
is
the shower? I only saw a big bathtub down here.”

“Oh, that’s right. Showers are upstairs.” He smiled and skimmed his hand over her hip. “Wanna take a bath?”

The next day and a half was spent just as that morning, with only a few hours out of their bed. Bodies, hearts, and minds were explored, and as the magical weekend dwindled away, they spoke less and touched more. With only minutes left together, Stephen curled up next to Anne, his cheek against her breast as he looked outside the windows.

“I don’t want this to end,” he said softly.

She played with the short black spikes of his hair. “I don’t either.”

“No, I mean I really don’t.” He maneuvered so he could look her in the eye. “I don’t want to go back to the way things were. I want to see you, and I want to talk with you—in person—during the week. I’ve thought about it a lot. I’m happier with you than when I’m without you.”

She could see the intensity in his eyes, and she swallowed hard as her own feelings welled up in her. Too emotionally raw, her response was awkward. “Yeah . . . we do the all-the-time-together thing really well.”

“I’d say we do.” He reached for her hand and kissed it. “So, let’s figure out how we can spend more time together during the week. There has to be a way.”

“There are ways, but they pose more risk. You know that.” She brought his hand to her lips.

“I’m willing to assume the risk.” He smiled and shook his head. “I’m not going back to life without you—that’s for sure.”

There were many interpretations to what he said, and Anne wasn’t sure which one he meant, but every potential meaning made her giddy. It was a feeling of silly, happy love and connection—and something she’d only ever felt with him. She gave him a sweet kiss and declared, “Good. I’m not going back either.”

Chapter 16

Later that week, the Yorks invited Stephen, Anne, and Lillian to dinner at their brownstone on East Capitol Street. When it was time for dessert, Grayson announced he needed a “snort” following such a wonderful meal. While the women prepared dessert, he led Stephen to the sitting room where he poured some of his favorite bourbon. Stephen settled on the sofa, avoiding Grayson’s large, leather chair, which dominated the room like a throne.
 

   
Grayson handed him a snifter. “Cheers,” he said, as he eased into his seat.

“Cheers.” Stephen took a drink, the sweet alcohol causing him to purse his lips.

He nodded at the dining room, as if Anne remained there. “So . . . what do you think?”

“What do I think? Haven’t Laura and I shown you what we think? We think she’s charming.” Grayson raised his eyebrows. “And astute. That’s a good thing.”

Stephen hesitated for a moment. “And what do you think my father would say about—”

“Please, Stephen.” He reclined in his chair. “Stop worrying. He’d think the same damn thing as the rest of us.”

“That’s good to hear.” Stephen smiled and sighed.
 

“Want to know what else I think?”

“What?”

“Stick a fork in you. You’re done.”

“Huh?”

“It’s obvious you’re completely taken with this young lady. There’s not another who’ll catch your eye.”

Stephen nodded slowly as he considered what he’d said. It was an objective observation by someone he trusted implicitly as a friend and as an advisor. The statement caused the same reaction to the one he’d had when he heard his father died. He needed to question it in order to believe it, even though he knew it to be true. “You think so?” he asked hesitantly. “You think she’s the one?”

Grayson frowned in disbelief. “Don’t you?”
 

“Maybe . . . I haven’t thought about it like that yet. I only know how she makes me feel.” Grayson looked at him like he was crazy, and Stephen felt stupid for being so unaware of himself. He tried to express his heart. “She means so much to me.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me saying, you need to start thinking about it. You need to decide how you feel about her . . . what you want to do.”

“What do you mean?” he asked warily.

“Let’s not kid ourselves. This is going to come out, one way or another.”

“And?”

“And that Langford character is going to spend millions of dollars trying to define you in the media. You need to know where you stand, what your intentions are. A wishy-washy response isn’t acceptable, and if that’s what you plan to give, you should stop seeing her right now.”

Stephen remained silent. Everything Grayson said was true, yet the calculations were different than a normal political analysis. He was uncertain how to respond as it required answers from his heart.

Tapping his cane on the floor twice, Grayson laughed. “Now, wipe that worried look off your face. This doesn’t require much thought, and you’re always overthinking things. She’s a good woman, good company, and a pretty little thing. Just get on with it.”

“You think it’s that simple?” Stephen chuckled.

“Most things in life are that simple, son,” Grayson answered and took another drink.

The next morning, Anne felt a tap on her shoulder as she stood at the copier making extra maps of the Capitol. She turned to see Stephen at her side.

“Come to Megan’s office in five minutes.” He winked and left.
 

Timing it just right, she walked to Megan’s office. Megan stood in the hall speaking on her phone. After Megan gave her a nod, Anne slid past and closed the door.

A grinning Stephen pulled her into a long embrace. She chuckled afterward. “You brought me in here just for this?”

“Hey, what do you mean ‘just for this’? I thought it was a pretty good kiss,” he said with a pout.

“It was good.” She smoothed his tie and smiled. “This is the thing we try to avoid, though, right?”

“Right, but I’m in a good mood.” He grinned.
 

“Why? You have another long night.”

“Not with the forecast. That’s why I brought you in here. Lillian McEvoy thinks it would be terrible for her friend, Anne Norwood, to be alone during the coming snowstorm. She’s extended an invitation to join her for the duration.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “What do you think?”

She grinned wickedly at the possibility of spending what could be days with him. “At your house? I like it.”

“Good. Come by as soon as you can after work.”

“Okay.” She cocked her head as she considered what the sleepover would entail. “Not to be presumptuous, but I’m wondering what the sleeping arrangements will be. Will your mother expect us to be in separate beds?”

“God, no. She’s not that way at all. We’re adults.” He laughed and swatted her butt. “I’m looking forward to being an adult with you.”