“That’s the thing,” she said with a shrug. “It wasn’t. It’s funny, and not in a comical way, but in a strange one. For so many years, I protected myself against what people would think, but today, I wanted to protect you. It felt like second nature. I know how strange that sounds, because it even sounds strange to my own ears.”
I shook my head. “That’s how I felt too. It wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction, but I wanted to renounce my candidacy to protect you from anything that could hurt you. But my lady love is much stronger than I gave her credit for.”
Her cheeks took on a pinkish hue at my words, and the freckle that I loved to kiss rose as her lips curled into a smile.
“You bring out the best in me, Drake.”
“We bring out the best in each other.”
? ? ?
Instead of going to Jack’s house, I took her to mine. Thankfully, there weren’t any reporters camped out, which was a relief.
I needed to tell Ben before I made a statement about pulling out of the race, so I called him. He understood and was happy for me. He was a great campaign manager and knew the job well; I was sure he’d land a great job helping someone else.
After I made a light supper, I put on some music as Lucy and I relaxed on the couch, just like we had when we were at her home that first night.
Pulling her close, I said, “Remember when you couldn’t keep your hands off of me?”
When her face reddened, I smiled. I loved that I could make her blush.
“You looked so good,” she said shyly, “and the way your muscles felt underneath my fingers made me swoon.”
I chuckled. “Did you say ‘swoon’?”
“Yes, you’re very swoony.”
“Ms. Washburn, is that even a word?”
“It is now.”
Before I could say any more, Lenny Kravitz’s “American Woman” began to play. Lucy stood and faced me with a wicked gleam in her eye that I hadn’t seen before. Just as I was about to get up, she held up her index finger, and I froze.
She lifted her hair and moved her hips in a circular motion. Then she teasingly unbuttoned her dress painstakingly slowly, one small button at a time . . . teasing me. My dick stirred in my dress pants as it stiffened. She turned and looked back at me through her lashes as she shimmied her dress over the curve of her ass. When it fell to the floor, I practically needed to sit on my hands not to reach out and grab her.
Then it dawned on me. This was Lucy’s stripper song, and I wasn’t about to stop the show.
Her fingers slid from the top of her panties to the swell of her breasts as she caressed her body. But when she slipped her index finger into her mouth and wrapped her tongue around it, I almost came in my pants.
“You’re killing me,” I said on a groan.
Flirtatiously she asked, “Well, I wouldn’t want to do that now, would I?”
Right when I was about to grab her, she straddled my lap and gyrated on my hardened shaft—back and forth, and around and around. Her hands threaded in my hair as she brought her lips to mine.
“Mmm. You feel so good, Senator Prescott.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood, forcing her to wrap her legs around my waist to hold on, and carried her to my bedroom. When I laid her down on the bed, her half-lidded eyes raked over my body. Yes, she was definitely trying to kill me.
I’d never taken my clothes off so fast in all my life as I said, “I need you now, Lucy.”
She shed her panties and bra as I grabbed a condom from the side table and sheathed myself. When I lowered my hand between her legs, she groaned, and I slid one finger in her before adding another.
“All of you, Drake. I need all of you.”
“I’m all yours.”
I positioned myself between her splayed legs and thrust into her. We moved in unison until our orgasms claimed us.
As we lay there, trying to catch our breath, I pulled her close. “Someday you’re going to be Mrs. Prescott.”
“Is that a proposal?”
“What if it was?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”
I’d never been more serious about anything in my life. I had never imagined proposing while we were joined in the most intimate way possible and without a ring, but it was how I felt. I needed to make her mine in every way possible.
“Yes, I’m serious.”