DiRocco laughed and danced out of reach. "Red is difficult to duplicate."
It was the first time he'd been with her and the anticipation between them was great. Her body and her appetites suited him. She was young, married, and excessively ambitious, key elements that made up the perfect lover in Washington, D.C.
A lobbyist by trade, Brenda DiRocco had come to him like a thousand others in need of a political favor. She'd been around long enough to know how the game was played. But, unlike Garrison Tate, she was far from understanding how to win.
She snorted delicately, then flashed him a dazzling smile. Her eyes were glazed from the barbiturate she'd consumed earlier.
Tate smiled, then reached out to cup her breasts. "Feel good?" he asked, rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
"I always feel good when I get what I want." She closed her eyes and arched against him. "It turns me on knowing there are four hundred people downstairs who paid a thousand dollars a plate to have dinner with you." She winced when he squeezed particularly hard. "And you're up here about to fuck me."
He guided her to the bed, pleased when she wobbled. Nothing excited him more than vulnerability. Except, of course, absolute power.
"Doesn't it turn you on even more knowing my wife is two floors below us getting a manicure?"
"Is she really the bitch everyone says she is?"
He worked the panties down her thighs. She stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes, her mane of wavy red hair splaying out on the pillow beneath her like blood.
"She's a bitch, all right. But she'll make a terrific First Lady."
“That's what counts, isn't it, Garrison?"
“That's the only thing that counts."
Sliding away from him, she crossed her arms over her breasts and sighed. "I've been waiting for weeks for this fund-raiser tonight. There are a lot of important people downstairs. People I should be mingling with."
"More important than me?"
She smiled coyly. "Of course not."
"You've had one glass of champagne too many. Besides, your professional reputation is much more precious than this dinner. There will be more dinners. And there's an endless supply of important people to go along with them. Next time, you'll have a reserved seat at the table with all the important people."
"You're teasing me." She looked at him through the drug-induced haze and smiled, moving her hands away from her breasts. "It's important to me, Garrison."
"I promise." He parted her knees. Slipping a finger between her legs, he found her wet and hot. His body stirred in response. "I can do things for you." He stroked her. "Introduce you to people. Make you a powerful, successful woman."
Moaning beneath his touch, she threw her head back into the pillows. He reached for the prescription bottle on the night table and tapped one of the pills into his palm. "Take this. It'll make this even better for you."
"I don't need any more." She arched when he increased the tempo of his stroking. "Oh, God, don't stop."
He poised the pill at her lips. When she opened her mouth, .he shoved it onto her tongue, then handed her a glass of champagne. "Down it, sweet. I'm going to give you a night you won't ever forget."
She swallowed the pill, closing her eyes against the impending orgasm. "Yes."
"That's a good girl." He set the flute on the night table, feeling secure in knowing that she would remember little in the morning. At least nothing she would want to discuss with anyone. "Turn over, sweet."
"Don't stop, Garrison. Get me off. I'm almost there."
Using his muscular arms, he flipped her onto her stomach.
"We're going to make a great team, you and I."
She struggled weakly, the fleshy cheeks of her buttocks jiggling as she tried to turn herself over. "No."
Aware of his own heavy breathing, Tate grasped the ample globes and began to knead the flesh hard enough to make her wince. "I'm going to take you back here."
"No."
It was the sensation of utter and complete power over her that had his sex throbbing like a living, breathing thing. For now, it controlled him just as he controlled her. For Garrison Tate, it didn't get any better. Power was the definitive tool of seduction, the ultimate aphrodisiac. Better than any drug, more satisfying than any pleasure of the flesh.
Using her own moisture, he lubricated her there, enjoying the sight as she wriggled her buttocks from side to side. He toyed with her, feeling the power engulf him. She was his now, to do with as he pleased.
She cried out when he entered her. Brilliant streaks of excitement ripped through him at the sound of her pain, the sight of her nails bunching the sheets, the feel of her tight body as it spasmed around his. She bucked beneath him, but he continued his slow descent until he was buried to the hilt within her.
He rode her hard, doing his utmost to hurt, to control.