Forever Love (Arabesque) (7 page)

She thought about his hand between her legs, and without saying a word he wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her secure while his other hand went down. She smiled, giddy with the pleasure of her power and the rapture of this burning hunger. He touched her there, brushing his fingers first against the scant curls, then her inner thigh and finally her tiny nub. Already fully engorged, the nub throbbed and ached for more. “Touch me,” she whispered.

He did. Over and over again, he toyed and tantalized. Her breathing stopped, then came again in halted gasps as her body shook to his slow, steady strokes. Her knees buckled and her legs began to wobble. “More.” He thrust one finger inside her. Her muscles contracted instantly. “More.” He pressed two fingers in. She fell back, but he was there to catch her. The next word never crossed her lips, but the thought was still there. He gave her more. She moved frantically to the thrusting fierceness of his fingers and hands.

Throbbing, stroking, pulsating faster and faster. With his fingers inside and his thumb torturing her, she was going to implode. She rocked her hips and he pressed deeper and deeper, ravaging her to insanity. Then she came in a muffled shriek as orgasmic shock waves shot through her over and over again. Her body shuddered and quivered as the last few quakes of passion released. Then, in an instant, he faded; everything faded as sleep took her once again.

Chapter 7

T
hankfully their next meeting at the mayor’s Initiative Conference was very business-oriented and very public. After the dream she’d had the night before, there was no way she could handle being alone with Keith. But being in a room with three dozen civic and business leaders and a good number of community actions groups, she felt safe.

But if Keith had been really looking forward to their next meeting as he’d said, he didn’t show it. He had to know OCC was on the invited list and that she’d show up. As soon as she walked in, she paused, seeing him instantly. Dark suit and tie with striped shirt and glasses. She smiled. Any other man might have looked like a nerd, but he pulled the classic look off perfectly.

She walked in with another woman, Donna Mathers, a local intimate-apparel boutique owner. This was her first time attending the conference, as well. In spiked heels and a body-fitted animal-print dress cut down to expose her full breasts, she looked more like she was going out clubbing on a Saturday night than to a business conference, but she seemed nice enough. She was older, around fifty, but gave the appearance of being much younger. They introduced themselves, traded business cards and information, then decided to partner up for the day. Gia knew the community service people, and Donna knew some of the business leaders. Neither of them admitted to knowing the politicians well.

They hung together as promised for the first fifteen minutes of the meet-and-greet, and then Donna saw someone she knew and quickly excused herself. Gia watched her go, as did a number of men standing around. She walked away slowly, exaggerating the sway of her hips, knowing the men would be watching. Gia shook her head. It always amazed her that some women needed to perform for attention.

“Hello, Gia.”

She’d know that deep, sexy voice anywhere. She turned and smiled politely. “Keith, hello, how are you?”

“I’m doing great, you?”

“Good, real good.”

“So, I see you weren’t too busy to attend this year.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Bill usually attends with your apologies. I’m glad you took the interest and came this time.”

She nodded, knowing that this was the first time she’d ever seen an invitation cross her desk. Bill usually handled the mail, but since he’d been so busy with local fundraising, she’d been handling it. “Yes, I am, too. It’s a pleasure being here. I’m looking forward to a very informative afternoon.”

“And, of course, seeing me again,” Keith half joked.

“Oh, yes, of course, seeing you again,” she said, playing along.

They smiled with more behind their eyes than any casual onlooker would imagine. “I’m glad to see your sense of humor has improved.”

“It comes and goes,” she joked.

“I want to talk to you about something,” he said, grasping her elbow and moving her to the side. “The mayor’s office has commissioned a new panel to help bring the political office closer to the people represented. It’s a nonprofit panel representing local business leaders, city officials and interest groups. It’s called the Bridge, and its main objective is to literally bridge the gap between the office of the mayor and the needs of the people.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of it.”

“Good. I’m representing the mayor’s office in officially inviting you to participate on the panel.”

“I’m honored, but that would be impossible. That’s a full-time position.”

He nodded. “Yes, it is, and since it’s generally what your organization is supposed to do anyway, I hoped—”

“Supposed to do?” she questioned quickly.

“Bad choice of wording. Would you be interested?”

She frowned. “I can’t see how that would work. Now with OCC I’m beholden to no one except my conscience and the people who need our voice.”

Keith looked away, frowning. “I get the feeling from your disapproving expression that you don’t buy it. You want change, but you’re not willing to be a part of the solution, only to complain about the problems and deny the results. The mayor is very responsive to the people. Are you?”

“I wouldn’t be so overly proud of that if I were you. The mayor has a record that’s filled with flaws, holes and empty promises,” she quickly added, softening her voice, as well.

“A record that has also seen new citywide health and safety initiatives implemented and a cost-of-living increase for teacher, police and firefighter salaries. A record that’s lowered the crime rate and begun cleaning up the city streets, and a record, I might add, that has been impeded, stalled and blocked on all fronts by the city council and still he has succeeded.”

“He could have, should have, done more in three and a half years.”

“Not with an obstructive city council headed by your friend.”

“What friend?”

Donna chuckled as she approached. “Seriously, listen to you two. You argue like me and my ex did years ago.”

Gia and Keith turned around to see Donna standing there smiling. “Sorry about that, Donna,” Gia said.

“I apologize,” Keith added.

“No, don’t apologize. I enjoyed it,” she said, turning her full attention to Keith and even blocking Gia with her shoulder. “You’re both very passionate about your beliefs. So am I. It’s a good thing to be passionate. You don’t see enough of it these days. Hi, my name is Donna Mathers.”

“Hello, Donna, it’s a pleasure meeting you. I’m Keith Washington. And please disregard my conversation with Ms. Duncan. We disagree on particulars, but fully agree on purpose.”

“You’re an attorney, right?”

“Yes, with the Washington and Associates Law Firm.” He handed her a business card.

“Nice, thanks, I might just give you a call one evening.”

“Our firm is always available to assist.”

“I’m sure you are,” she said seductively, “firm, that is.”

“Ladies, if you’ll excuse me,” Keith said, nodding politely, “I believe we’re about to begin.”

Gia stared at Donna with her mouth slightly open. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. Apparently being blatantly obvious wasn’t just for her outfit. The bold leopard-print dress should have been cougar.

“Better take notes, Gia. That’s how you get what you want.” As Keith walked away, Donna watched and sighed admiringly. “Damn, that is one fine brother. I would not mind doing him day in and day out all night long and then some.”

Gia turned to follow Donna’s gaze. Sure, it was crude and a bit over-the-top, but Gia had to admit she had the exactly same sentiments. Keith was everything any women could want in a man. No wonder he had every woman in here taking a second and third look at him. He was successful, intelligent, built and too sexy. And on top of all that, he had the swagger and confidence to know it.

“Come on, let’s get a good seat right up front,” Donna prompted. “I want to see everything.”

“Sure, sounds good,” Gia said, but she was really hoping to sit in the back and as far away from Keith as possible. After the dream she’d had last night, all she could think about was exactly what Donna had suggested.

Still, one full day of seeing Keith and ignoring the way he was making her body burn was getting to be too much. Whether he knew it or not, he was driving her crazy. At one point, while giving a brief presentation, he glanced in her direction. The look he gave her took her breath away. She nearly climaxed right then and there.

And perhaps it was just her imagination, but he seemed to be staring at her from the head table the entire time. At one point it had gotten so obvious that Donna, sitting next to her, leaned over. “Is it me or is Keith Washington staring directly at you? How well do you know him?”

She, of course, quickly disavowed any knowledge other than their very brief encounter at the community center.

Donna’s expression showed she was skeptical. “You sure you want to stick with that story?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Uh-huh, okay, if you say so,” Donna said, smiling curiously. Moments later the program took a break. Everyone stood and walked around. Donna was the first to make a beeline straight to Keith. Gia went in the opposite direction. She grabbed a glass of water in the back of the room, then turned. Keith was directly across from her with Donna and two other women in his face.

“Gia.”

She turned, hearing her name, to see a wide politician’s smile. Lester Jameson walked up to her, blocking her view of Keith and his fan club. “Councilman Jameson, how are you, sir?” she said.

“Councilman, sir, what is this? Please, call me Lester.”

“Yes, of course, Lester, how are you?”

“Good, good,” he said, speaking entirely too loud. Those close by quickly looked over, taking notice as intended. “It’s good to see you. How’s my favorite community organizer?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“And when’s my endorsement coming?”

“Your endorsement?” she asked.

“Where’s Bill? He usually attends these functions.”

“He was unable to attend. I’m sorry, you mentioned an endorsement....”

“Yes, time is getting short and having OCC’s rubber stamp would seal it for me,” he said, looking around in earnest. “Ah, here he is now—someone you should see.”

Gia turned and stopped cold.

“Hello, Gianna,” Lawrence said.

“Hello, Granddad,” she said.

“Now, isn’t this nice?” Lester gushed, seeing grandfather and granddaughter staring at each other wordlessly.

* * *

Keith openly bristled as his attention was focused across the room at the two people standing and speaking way too close together. It was Gia and Jameson, and it took everything he had not to storm over and end their conversation. But the last thing he wanted to do was to openly show what had been churning inside him the past few days. Gia had been on his mind too much. Earlier he had been in a meeting and found himself totally distracted and needing to completely refocus. He even went as far as to ask a client to repeat what he’d just said.

Now he was standing here listening to these two women trying to outmaneuver each other for his attention. Neither had any hopes of getting it. Ordinarily he’d be flattered, but right now he was just annoyed. But he nodded and smiled when appropriate, giving nothing away. This was part of his job as his father’s front man. No one knew that this was the last place he wanted to be.

Then he saw his chance. Lawrence Duncan came over and moments later Gia walked away and headed out into the corridor. Keith excused himself and followed. As soon as he turned the corner, he saw her standing at the window looking out. He walked up and stood beside her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she responded without turning to him. They stood a few feet apart, and from a distance it would appear they were not even communicating.

“Are you okay? You look a little stressed.”

She smiled weakly. “I’m fine. I just didn’t expect to see my grandfather here.”

Keith nodded. “Lawrence comes each year. I’m surprised Bill didn’t tell you.”

“Yes, so am I.”

“Are you enjoying the conference?” he asked, looking ahead.

“Yes, it’s very informative. I’m learning a lot about how this business works.”

“That’s very true. Running a city, a state and a nation is a business. And every business needs a responsive leader.”

“I understand the mayor will be in attendance this afternoon.”

“Yes, he’s on his way. Are you sure you’re up to meeting him?”

“Translation,” she began slyly, “will I be asking the mayor pertinent questions like the other day?” She turned to him. “I didn’t come here to confront anyone. I came to learn. And to be perfectly clear, what happened at the community center was the truth. Your father owes this city more than the last three years. We deserve better,” she said.

“The city does deserve better. In fact, they deserve the best and they have it with the current mayor. His record stands for itself on creating, implementing and promoting working education and housing programs. The mayor has had to fight the city council every step of the way. Despite mudslinging politicians, bogus lies and false accusations of fraud and corruption, he’s succeeded and that’s the truth.”

“Whose truth, your campaign-manufactured truth? That’s nowhere near axiomatic,” she said heatedly.

“Axiomatic, for real, you actually talk like that?” he joked.

“What, are we trading childish insults now?” she asked.

“No, of course not. Look, I just came over to clear the air. We obviously got off on the wrong foot and I’d like to rectify that and hopefully get a better understanding of what you do. Perhaps we can open a more conducive, less antagonistic dialogue between OCC and the mayor’s office.”

Gia felt the patronizing sting of his words. “Mr. Washington, OCC is neither hostile nor antagonistic. We merely have justifiable grievances that need to be heard, including a comprehensive jobs program.”

“Admittedly, a jobs program is more challenging to commit to, but the mayor does have a number of very viable programs on the table. And I think—”

“On the table,” she snapped quietly. “You don’t get it, do you? People need jobs now, right now. They don’t need a handout. They need food on the table, not proposals.”

“Then tell that to the city council and your benefactor, Lester Jameson, as he spews his paranoid propaganda and blocks every program the mayor’s office proposes,” he snapped back.

She opened her mouth and then closed it. Her temper flared. “Lester Jameson is not and never has been our benefactor. For your information, this organization is not and never has been politically affiliated. The OCC isn’t bipartisan, we are nonpartisan. We stand behind no one candidate or party. We stand with and for the people.”

“When you openly stand against one, you automatically stand with the other.”

“That’s ridiculous. We believe in fairness in politics, and when you stand up to one, it makes that one stronger.”

He chuckled. “Excuse my impertinence, but exactly how long have you been in this business? You need to grow up, wildflower.”

“What? Did you just call me a wildflower? Look, Washington,” she lashed out at him. “You can skip the charm and cutesy name-calling. No matter how much you want to, you can’t control this election by systematically excluding half the city. And if you’re implying that we’re on Councilman Jameson payroll, then—”