Tall, Dark...Westmoreland! / The Moretti Seduction

Now it was time to take off the rest. Because she never wore panties with panty hose, that would be easy. Instead of removing her panty hose last, she decided to take them off first. He wouldn’t be expecting it, and the thought of catching him off guard stirred something inside of her. With his eyes still on her, she lifted her bottom off the bed slightly to ease down her panty hose, deliberately giving him a flash to let him know that once they were gone, there would not be any covering left. After she’d removed them, she rolled the hose up in a ball and tossed them to him. As with her shoes, he made a perfect catch, and then, while she watched him, he brought the balled-up nylon to his nose and took a whiff of her scent before placing it in the pocket of his jacket.

Her gaze had followed his hands, and now it moved back to his face. She saw the flaring of his nostrils and the tightening of his fists by his sides, and she saw something else. Something she had noted earlier, when he had walked across the room to her, but that now had grown larger. His erection. There was no doubt in her mind, unclothed and properly revealed, it would put Michelangelo’s David to shame. Her artistic eye could even make out the shape of it through his pants. It was huge, totally developed, long and thick. And at the moment, totally aroused. That was evident by the way the erection was straining against the fly of his pants.

He shifted his stance. Evidently, he’d seen where her gaze had traveled, and she watched as his fingers went to the zipper of his tuxedo pants and slowly eased it down. She could only stare when, after bending to remove his shoes and socks, he stepped out of his pants, leaving his lower body clad only in a pair of sexy black briefs. She knew they were a designer pair; their shape, fit and support said it all. The man had thighs that were firm, hard and muscular. She didn’t have to see his buns to know they were probably as tight as the rest of him. There was no need to ask if he worked out on occasion. The physical fitness of his body said it all.

And he looked sexy standing there, with a tux jacket and white shirt on top and a pair of sexy briefs covering his lower half. She figured he had decided to remove the clothes from the same part of his anatomy as she had. They were both undressing from the bottom up.

She held her breath, literally stopped breathing, when his hands then went to the waistband of his briefs. And while her gaze was glued to him, he slowly pulled the briefs down his legs.

Damn.

The man, thankfully, had no qualms about exposing himself, and for that she was grateful, because what her eyes were feasting on was definitely worth seeing. He was truly a work of art. And while her focus was contained, he went about removing the rest of his clothes. She wasn’t aware of it until he stood before her, totally naked in all his glorious form.

Her gaze traveled the full length of his body once, twice, a total of three times before coming back to settle on his face. He was a naked, masked man, and she would love to have him pose for her as such. On canvas she would capture each and every detail of him. He was pure, one hundred percent male.

“It’s your turn to take off the rest of your clothes, Wonder.”

His words, deep and husky, floated around the already sexually charged room.

She forced her gaze from his thick shaft and moved it to his face as, on her knees, she reached behind herself and undid the hooks of her dress before pulling it over her head. It was simple, and she was naked, since she hadn’t worn a bra.

Now he saw it all. And like she had earlier, his gaze moved to her lower part, zeroing in on the junction of her thighs. Suddenly she felt awkward. She wondered what he was thinking. She kept her body in great shape, and her Brazilian wax was obvious.

She met his gaze when he returned it to her face. She smiled. “I’m done.”

“No, baby,” he said in a tight and strained voice. “You haven’t even got started.”

Reggie pulled in a deep breath, meaning every word he’d just spoken. Never in his life had he been so hard and hot for a woman. Never had he wanted to eat one alive. As far as he was concerned, there would not be enough time tonight to do everything he wanted to do. So there was none to be wasted. But first…

“Is there anything you have an aversion to doing?” he felt the need to ask.

He watched how she lifted her gaze a moment, and then she said in a soft voice, “Yes. I’m not into bondage.”

He chuckled. “Then it’s a good thing I left my handcuffs at home.” And because he saw the slight widening of her eyes, he smiled and said, “Hey, I’m just teasing. I would be crazy to tie your hands since I prefer you putting them all over me.”

As far as Olivia was concerned, that was the perfect invitation. She scooted close to the edge of the bed and reached out and splayed her hands across his chest. She smiled when she heard his sharp intake of breath. And she was fascinated by the way his muscles flexed beneath her hands and by the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers.

“You’re into torture?” he asked huskily, his tone sounding somewhat strained.

“Why? Do you feel like you’re being tortured?” she asked innocently, shifting one of her hands lower to his stomach.

“Yes.” His answer was short and precise. His breathing seemingly impaired.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Jack Sprat.”

And then her hand dropped to that part of him she’d become fascinated with from the moment she’d seen it. It was large, heavy and, for tonight, it was hers. Her hand closed up, contracted and then closed up again, liking the feel of holding it, stroking it.

Breathing at full capacity, Reggie could no longer handle what his mystery woman was doing to him and pulled back and reached down for his pants to retrieve a condom packet from his wallet. Ripping the packet with his teeth, he proceeded to put the condom on.

He glanced up to see her lying back on the bed, smiling at him, fully aware of the state she’d pushed him to. He moved so quickly, it caught her off guard, and then he was there with her in the bed, pinning her beneath him on the coverlet and immediately taking her mouth captive, devouring it like he intended to devour her. And when he pulled back, he moved down to her breasts, taking the nipples in his mouth, doing all kinds of things to them with his tongue until she cried out. She pleaded with him to stop, because she couldn’t take any more.

But he definitely wasn’t through with her yet. Intent on proving that she wasn’t the only one with hands that could torture, he used his knee to spread her legs. He then settled between them, determined to fit his erection in the place where it was supposed to be.

There was so much more he wanted to do—devour her breasts, lick her skin all over—but at that moment, the one thing he had to do before his brain exploded with need was get inside of her.

He pulled his mouth away from her breasts, and breathing hard, he stared down at her, determined to see what he could of her eyes through the mask. “This is crazy,” he said, almost choking for both breath and control of the words.

“Might be,” she said, just as short of breath. “But it’s the best craziness I’ve ever experienced. Let’s not stop now.”

He stared at her. “You sure?”

She stared back. “Positive.”

And with their gazes locked, he entered her.

He felt her small spasms before he even got into the hilt, and when her inner muscles clenched him, he pressed deeper inside of her. She was tight, but he could feel her opening wider for him, like a bloom. “That’s it. Relax, let go and let me in,” he said.

And as if her body was his to command, it continued to open, adjust, until it was a perfect fit and curved around him like a glove. And at that moment, while buried deep inside of her, he just had to taste her lips again. He leaned forward, took her mouth and began swallowing every deep, wrenching moan that she made.

And then he began moving back and forth inside of her, thrusting, then retreating, then repeating the process all over again, each thrust aimed with perfect accuracy at her erogenous zone. He lifted her hips, and she dug her fingertips deep into his shoulders and cried out with each stroke he took.

It was at that moment that he actually felt her body explode. Then the sensations that had rippled through her slammed through him as well. He threw his head back; and he felt the muscles in his neck pop; and he breathed in deep, pulling in her scent, which filled the air.

Shudders rammed through him, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his body exploded. His orgasm came with the force of a tidal wave, and he continued to thrust inside her as his groans mingled with her cries of pleasure. And with their bodies fully engaged, their minds unerringly connected, together they left Earth and soared into the clouds as unadulterated pleasure consumed them.

“I need to leave,” she said softly.

Reggie turned his head on the pillow and looked over at Wonder. He doubted he could move. He could barely breathe. It was close to morning. They’d made love all night long. As soon as they had ended one session, they’d been quick and eager to start another.

He knew she had to leave. So did he. But he didn’t want their one and only night together to end. “You do know there is no reason why we can’t—”

She quickly turned toward him and placed a finger on his lips. “Yes, there is. I can’t tell you my true identity. It could hurt someone.”

He frowned. She wasn’t wearing a ring, so quite naturally, he had assumed she wasn’t married. What if she…

As if reading his mind, she said, “I don’t have a husband. I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

“Then who?” he asked quickly, trying to understand why they couldn’t bring their masquerade to an end. He probably had more to lose than she, because his campaign for the Senate officially began Monday.

“I can’t say. This has to be goodbye—”

Before the words were completely out of her mouth, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, knowing this would be the last time he would kiss the lips he had grown so attached to.

Moments later he released her mouth, refusing to say goodbye. She wiggled out of his arms and began re-dressing. He watched her do so, getting turned on all over again.

“I’m getting money out of the ATM to pay for the room,” she informed him.

He frowned at her words. “No, you’re not.”

“I must. It was my idea for us to come here,” she said.

“Doesn’t matter. Everything has been taken care of, so they won’t take any money from you at the front desk. Last night is on me, and I don’t regret one minute of spending it with you.”

Olivia slipped back into her shoes and gazed across the room at him. He was lying in bed, on top of the covers. Naked. So immensely male. “And I don’t regret anything, either,” she said, meaning every word. She was tempted to do as he wanted—cross the room, remove his mask and remove hers as well—but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even trust herself to kiss him goodbye. It had to be a clean break for both of them. “And you sure you don’t want me to pay for the room?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“At least let me give you something toward it and—”

“No,” he said, declining her offer.

She didn’t know how much time passed while they just stared at each other. But she knew she had to leave. “I have to go now,” she said, as if convincing herself of that.

He shifted on the bed to take the rose, and offered it to her. She closed the short distance between them to retrieve it. “At least let me walk you to the door,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. I’ll see myself out.”

And then she quickly walked out of the bedroom.

Reggie pulled himself up in the bed when he heard the sound of the hotel door closing. He sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling a sense of loss that touched his very soul and not understanding how such a thing was possible.

He stood up to put on his clothes, and it was then that he snatched off the mask. It had served its purpose. He reached for his shirt and tie and noticed something glittering on the carpet. He reached down and picked it up. It was one of the diamond earrings that she had been wearing.

He folded the earring in the palm of his hand. He knew at that very moment that if he had to turn Atlanta upside down, he would find his Wonder Woman.

He would find her, and he would keep her.

Three

“So, Libby, how was the party?”

Olivia, who had been so entrenched in the memories of the night before, hadn’t noticed her father standing at the bottom of the stairs. She glanced down at him and smiled. “It was simply wonderful.” He didn’t need to know that she was speaking not of the party per se but of the intimate party she’d gone to at the Saxon Hotel, with her mystery man.

It had been just before six in the morning when she slipped into her father’s home, and knowing he was an early riser, she had dashed up the stairs and showered. She had also put in a call to Terrence, leaving a message on his cell phone that it was okay to delete the text message she had sent to him the night before. And then she had climbed into bed. By the time her head had hit the pillow in her own bed, she had heard her father moving around.

She had enjoyed the best sleep in years. She had awakened to a hungry stomach, and the last person she had expected to meet when she took the stairs to go pillaging in the kitchen was her father. Typically, after early morning church services on Sunday, he hit the country club with his buddies for a game of golf. So why was he still here?

Orin met his daughter on the bottom stair and gave her a hug. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I felt kind of bad that I couldn’t attend the ball with you, but I did have to work on that speech.”

She looked up at him and, not for the first time, thought that he was definitely a good-looking man, and she was glad he took care of himself by eating right and staying active. “No problem, Dad.”

Not wanting him to ask for details about the party, she quickly asked a question of her own. “So why are you home and not out on the golf course?”

He smiled as he tucked her arm in his and escorted her to the kitchen. “Cathy threatened me with dire consequences today if I left before she got the chance to come over and go over my speech.”

Olivia smiled but didn’t say anything for a moment. Cathy Bristol had been her father’s private secretary for almost fifteen years, and Olivia couldn’t help but wonder when her father would wake up and realize the woman was in love with him. Olivia had figured it out when she was in her teens, and when she’d gotten older had asked her brothers about it. Like her dad, they’d been clueless. But at least Duan and Terrence had opened their eyes even if her father hadn’t. Cathy was a forty-eight-year-old widow who had lost her husband over eighteen years ago, when he died in a car accident, leaving her with two sons to raise.

“So when is Cathy coming? I’d love to see her.”

Her father smiled. “Around noon. I’m treating her to lunch here first before I put her to work.”

“To review your speech?”

“Yes,” he said when they reached the kitchen and he sat down at the table. “She’s good at editing things and giving her opinion. As this is my first speech, I want to impress those who hear it. It will be one of those forums in which all the candidates speak.”

Olivia nodded as she grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table and sat down across from him.

Orin frowned. “Surely that’s not all you’re having for breakfast.”

“Afraid so,” she said before biting into her apple.

“You’re so thin,” he pointed out. “You should eat more.”

Olivia could only smile. There was no way she could tell her father that she had eaten quite a lot last night. After making love several times, they had ordered room service, eaten until their stomachs were full and then gone back to bed to make love some more.

Deciding to get her father off the subject of her weight, she said, “So, tell me something about this guy who has the audacity to run against my father.”

Orin leaned back in his chair. “He’s one of those Westmorelands. Prominent family here in Atlanta. He’s young, in his early thirties, and owns an accounting firm.”

Olivia nodded. She recalled the name, and if she wasn’t mistaken, Duan and Terrence had gone to school with some of them. They were a huge family. “So what’s his platform? How do the two of you differ?”

“On a number of issues, we’re in agreement. The main thing we differ on is whether or not Georgia can support another state-financed university. He thinks we can, and I don’t. We have a number of fine colleges and universities in this area. Why on earth would we need another one? Besides, he’s inexperienced.”

Olivia couldn’t help but smile at that, because her father didn’t have any political experience, either. In fact, she and her brothers had been shocked when he’d announced he was running for a political office. The only thing they could come up with as to the reason was that his good friend and golfing buddy Senator Albert Reed was retiring and wanted someone to replace him whom he knew and could possibly influence. Not that her father was easily influenced, but he was known to give in under a good argument, without fully standing his ground.

“And young Westmoreland will run on his name recognition since he has a couple of celebrities in the family. One of his cousins is a motorcycle racer, and another is an author.”

And your son just happens to be a very well-known former NFL player, she wanted to say. Who you have called upon to appear at a couple of rallies. So you are just as bad.

Olivia said nothing but listened as she took another bite of her apple. At least she tried to listen. More than once her mind took a sharp turn, and she found her thoughts drifting to breath-stopping memories of the tall, dark and handsome man she had met and spent a wonderful night with. She could vividly recall his kisses and the way he had been methodically slow and extremely thorough each time he’d taken her mouth in his, eating away at her lips, unrestrained, unhurried and not distracted.

And there were the times his mouth had touched her everywhere, blazing a trail from her nape to her spine, then all over her chest, tasting her nipples and making her intensely aware of all her hidden passion—passion he’d been able to wrench from her.

The only bad thing about last night was the fact that she had lost one of the diamond earrings she had purchased a year ago in Paris. The earrings had been a gift to herself when she landed her dream job. She would love to get it back, but knew that wouldn’t be happening. But she would be the first to admit that the night spent in her one-time lover’s arms had been worth the loss.

The ringing of the doorbell claimed her attention and brought her back to the present.

“That must be Cathy,” Orin said. He quickly rose from the table and headed to the front door.

Olivia studied her father and couldn’t do anything but shake her head. He seemed awfully excited about Cathy’s arrival. Olivia couldn’t help wondering if perhaps her father had finally awakened and smelled the coffee and just wasn’t aware he’d been sniffing the aroma. She had been around her brothers long enough to know that when it came to matters of the heart, men had a tendency to be slow.

She turned in her seat when she heard a feminine voice, Cathy’s voice. Olivia smiled when she saw the one woman she felt would be good for her father and again wondered why her father hadn’t asked Cathy to be his escort for some of these functions. Cathy was very pretty, and Olivia thought, as she glanced at the two of them walking into the kitchen, that they complemented each other well.

Brent Fairgate waved his hand back and forth in front of Reggie’s face. “Hey, man, are you with us, or are you somewhere in la-la land?”

Reggie blinked, and then his gaze focused on the man standing in front of him, before shifting to the woman standing beside him, Pam Wells. Brent had hired Pam as a strategist on a consulting basis.

“Sorry,” he said, since there was no use denying they hadn’t had his attention. “My mind drifted elsewhere for a moment.” There was no way he was going to tell Brent that he was reliving the memories of the prior night. Brent was the most focused man that Reggie knew. Reggie was well aware that Brent wanted him to be just as focused.

“Okay. Then let’s go back over the layout for tomorrow,” Brent said, handing him a folder filled with papers. “The luncheon is at the Civic Center, and both you and Jeffries will be speaking. The order will be determined by a flip of a coin. You got the speech down pat. Just make sure you turn on your charm. Jeffries will be doing likewise. Without coming right out and saying it, you will have to make everyone see you as the voice of change. You will have to portray Jeffries as more of the same, someone who represents the status quo.”

“Okay. Give me some personal info on Jeffries, other than he’s the Holy Terror’s father,” Reggie said.

Early in his professional football career, Terrence Jeffries had been nicknamed the “Holy Terror” by sportscasters. Reggie understood that Terrence was now a very successful businessman living in the Florida Keys.

“He also has another son, who’s a couple years older than the Holy Terror,” Pam replied. “He used to be on the Atlanta police force, but now he owns a private investigation company. He’s low-key and definitely not in the public eye like Terrence.”

Reggie nodded. “That’s it? Two sons?”

Pam shook her head. “There’s also a daughter, the youngest. She’s twenty-seven. An artist who lives in Paris. I understand she’s returned home for the campaign.”

Reggie lifted a brow. “Why?”

Pam smiled. “To act as her father’s escort for all the fund-raisers he’ll be expected to attend. From what I understand, he hasn’t dated a lot since his wife up and left him.”

Reggie frowned. “And when was that?”

“Over twenty-something years ago. He raised his kids as a single father,” said Pam.

Reggie nodded, immediately admiring the man for taking on such a task. He was blessed to have both of his parents still living and still married to each other. He couldn’t imagine otherwise. He had heard his siblings and cousins talk about the hard work that went into parenting, so he admired any person who did it solo.

“As you know, Orin Jeffries is a corporate attorney at Nettleton Industries. He’s worked for them for over thirty years. And he’s almost twenty-five years older than you. He’ll likely flaunt the age difference and his greater experience,” Brent added.

Reggie smiled. “I’m sure that he will.”

“Do you need me to look over your speech for tomorrow?” Brent asked.

Reggie met his friend’s gaze. “I haven’t written it yet.” Concern touched Brent’s features, and not for the first time, Reggie thought his best friend worried too much.

“But I thought you were going to do it last night, right after you came home from the Firemen’s Masquerade Ball,” Brent said.

Reggie sighed. There was no way he was going to mention that he hadn’t made it home from the ball until this morning, because he had made a pit stop at the Saxon Hotel. Actually, it had been more than a pit stop. The word quickie in no way described what he and Wonder Woman had done practically all through the night. They had refused to be rushed.

Before Brent could chew him out, Reggie said, “I’ll do it as soon as the two of you leave. If you want to drop by later and look it over, then feel free to do so.”

A stern look appeared on Brent’s face. “And don’t think that I won’t.”

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Just don’t return before six this evening.”

Brent raised a brow. “Why?”

“Because I need to take a nap.”

Brent chuckled. “You never take naps.”