K. Linde - Off the Record

Heather Ferrington was off to the side talking to a shorter bulky man that Liz was surprised she recognized. He was the jackass who had made fun of her at the club that night after the press conference. It all felt so long ago. What the hell was he doing here anyway? Was he involved in the campaign somehow?

Pushing those thoughts aside, she found Brady amid the crowd. More than half of his line had dissipated. They had either given up on meeting him or he had barreled through people faster than she expected. He was the perfect politician—shaking hands, taking pictures, answering questions.

Liz spoke to a girl she recognized from class. She had liked the speech and had decided she was voting for him. Liz asked her if she could quote her on that. The girl giggled, but agreed. Another student gave her a testimonial about how much he liked Brady. A third student said that while Brady was handsome, she hadn’t been sold entirely and she planned to research the other candidates more. Feeling that she had gotten the most out of the remaining students, she accepted those three as her sources and called it a day.

She walked over to where Brady was mingling with the remaining students. Leslie was among them, staring up at him with a gaga expression as he told a story. Liz wondered if she was infatuated with him like everyone else or if she was pushing for an internship with the campaign. If…when he won, it would look good on her already packed résumé.

“Ah, Ms. Dougherty,” Brady said, looking up and directly at her, “just the person I was looking for.”

Liz had enough good form not to look surprised when he interrupted himself to address her. “Senator Maxwell, always a pleasure,” she said, thinking of other pleasures they had indulged in.

“You’re here for an interview, I presume?” he asked with a smile.

“Of course. Are you ready?” she managed, keeping from darting her eyes toward Leslie with a ha-ha! expression.

“If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” Brady said sweetly to his crowd of worshipers.

“Senator Maxwell,” Leslie cut in before he could leave, “do you think you will have time to speak after your…interview?” she asked, cutting her eyes to Liz.

“Another time perhaps. Ms. Dougherty has already requested the remainder of my time in Chapel Hill,” he said, ending the discussion. “Right this way, Ms. Dougherty.”

Liz followed him back up the stairs, to the stage, and through the side door that led them to the back of the auditorium. She was surprised at how empty it was; it had cleared out entirely. She guessed all of the students wanted to get back to the pool as quick as possible. She heard the door click behind her, and she slowly turned to find herself completely alone with Brady.

The air between them crackled with tension.

Two weeks.

Two weeks since her hands had threaded through his hair. Two weeks since she had circled her legs around his waist. Two weeks since her moans had taken over the hotel room.

She had missed him, and it was downright painful. How had she not noticed it when he had been onstage? She had stared up into his handsome face for a whole hour, her mind hardly drifting from what he was saying. Now here, with so little space between them, all she wanted to do was reach out and touch him, make sure he was real, make sure it had all really happened.

“How come you didn’t find me sooner?” he asked, taking a step toward her.

“Didn’t know you needed me to save you,” she said.

“Well, you played along perfectly.”

“I was actually coming to find you for an interview,” Liz told him. The air seemed to be thinning the nearer he drew toward her. How was it suddenly so warm?

“Then you read my mind,” he said with a smile. It was contagious and she returned it. “What questions did you have for me?”

He was mere inches from her, and she was having a hard time remembering anything she was going to ask him. All of her carefully prepared questions flew out the window, and all she could think about was his lips on her.

“Tongue-tied?” he said, his hand moving forward and running up her skirt to her waist.

Her breathing hitched and she strained to keep her eyes open. She couldn’t let him completely distract her. She had questions. They were somewhere in her mind, and she needed to ask them. “You oppose NC Pledge for numerous reasons.”

“I have problems with some of the specifics of the legislation,” he said, circumventing her statement with the ease of a politician.

“You’re blocking the legislation from moving forward in the state legislature.”

“Was there a question in that?” he asked.

She swallowed, and tried to keep her thoughts on track. His thumb circling her hip bone wasn’t helping. Stay professional! she yelled at herself.

“Why do you feel the questions you have posed regarding NC Pledge are enough to block landmark education policy in North Carolina? And how can the people of North Carolina, specifically this district, expect you to further our interests on Capitol Hill when you aren’t even doing that here?” she asked, staring up at him with as much professional decorum as she could muster. She could see his campaign mask begin to slip on, and his eyes hardened. She had surprised him again.

“Until the legislature has agreed upon terms that I believe will actually benefit North Carolina,” he said, pausing for dramatic effect, clearly wanting her to hear his words, “rather than hinder the slow growth within our state, I will continue to fight for better terms. I’ll do the same on the Hill.” He arched an eyebrow, waiting for a response, the rest of his face blank. She wondered how irritated he was under that cool, collected front.

Damn. He was good.

He hadn’t actually said anything.

“But why wouldn’t you want more students to attend college?”

“Of course I support students attending college.”

“Did you have a basketball scholarship?” She already knew the answer.

“I did.”

“Could your parents have paid for you to go to college if you hadn’t had the scholarship?”

His hand tightened on her hip. “I see where you’re going with this, Ms. Dougherty.”

“Just a simple question, Senator,” she said.

“Yes, my parents could have paid for me to attend the university.”

“Do you know how many other students don’t have that privilege? Please, Senator, explain to me why those students don’t deserve a college education when you do?” she asked point-blank.

“I believe every student has the right to an education,” he said sternly. His brown eyes seemed to bore into her. “I do, however, feel that NC Pledge does not satisfy a number of other demands, such as cost to the university system and future benefits in the workforce. These problems need to be addressed first.”

“Can I quote you on that?” she asked, licking her lips as his hand moved to the small of her back.

“By all means, Ms. Dougherty,” he said, pulling her against him.

She could see the mask slipping as he stared down at her. What was it that put him so on edge, and how did she manage to smooth that away so easily? She could do both within seconds, and both sides of him were incredibly appealing.

“Liz,” he whispered, leaning down closer. “Are we done discussing politics? You know how much I like being lectured.”

“I would say so,” she responded, pushing her hands up his chest and around his neck.

Kissing his lips set off a fireworks display in her stomach. She pressed farther into him, gripping his back with the extreme intensity she was feeling. He responded with fervor, walking her back against the wall and kissing her as if it had been years rather than two weeks. His hands ran up and down her body, making her remember every place he had touched.

She couldn’t get enough, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. There was just Brady. She felt as if she was lost in a world of him, drowning in him, suffocating in him. Nothing could feel more real or more enticing than this moment.

If she had ever been kissed like this before, then her memory was entirely faulty. His need was showing through with every grasp of her body, with every heavy breath from his lips, and with every swish of his tongue against her own. It wasn’t even the first time they had kissed, but it was laced so heavily with the absence.

She had thought it was hot before, but she was practically perspiring with the heat rushing to the surface of her skin. He ran his hands down her body and between her thighs, sending chill bumps up and down her arms. He pressed his fingers against her most sensitive spot through her pencil skirt, and she groaned into his lips.

“Brady,” she whimpered, her thoughts flying back to the hotel room.

“God I want you,” he admitted, locking lips with her again.

She was aware as he swirled his fingers that she wanted him pretty damn badly as well. How had he cast such a spell? She just wanted to go home and let him have his way with her. She didn’t care that she had promised herself it would only happen once. She couldn’t be satisfied, couldn’t be satiated.

She wanted Brady Maxwell.

“Come back to my place?” she asked boldly.

“I have a dinner I have to attend,” he said as if it was the hardest thing he had ever done.

“Come after. Whenever,” she nearly pleaded.

“I want to, but I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. He pulled her against him, hugging her tight. She held him, somehow knowing their time together was over for now. She felt a sudden loss. “Meet me tomorrow?”

Liz nodded. She would meet him anywhere.

He bent down and kissed her lips one more time, a lingering good-bye with promise for more.

Liz yawned as she walked into the diner where she had agreed to meet Brady. It was a small, dingy-looking place that she had overlooked a hundred times before. She had heard that it had superb breakfast, but she was never awake in time to go unless she had class. And she wasn’t going to wake up early. Her sleeping schedule was precious.

She hoped she looked okay. She wasn’t a morning person, and her earliest class last semester had been noon. She had left her heels at home and opted for her brown-and-gold sandals. She had on short, cuffed white shorts and a long, see-through teal blouse. At least she had taken the time to do her hair, and it fell down to her shoulders in soft waves.

Tossing her Ray-Bans into her purse, she made her way to the back of the restaurant. If Brady wasn’t here yet, she would rather take the farthest booth in the back and wait for him to arrive. That way she wouldn’t miss him, and she could observe everyone else who was walking in.

She broke past the small bar area in the front where a few older gentlemen sat with coffee in hand as they mulled over their newspapers. The back room was pretty empty, only one elderly couple sitting in the front holding hands. Brady was already there, sitting with a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Good morning,” he said with a cheery smile.

Her breath caught as she stared down at him. He was insanely good-looking. It actually hurt to look at him and not jump over that table to get at him. He was wearing a blue polo with dark jeans and a black Arc’teryx shell jacket. She was surprised to see that he wasn’t in his typical attire. She wasn’t sure if it was because their meeting was informal or because he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Either way it was nice to see him out of a suit. She blushed when she remembered the last time she had seen him out of one.

“Hey,” Liz whispered. She took the seat across from him.

“You look well this morning,” he told her, drinking her in.

“Thanks,” she said, thinking the complete opposite.

As hot and heavy as they had gotten backstage yesterday, she didn’t really know what he wanted from her. Why meet her here in a public place? Was he going to be letting her down easy? It hadn’t seemed like that yesterday. He had initiated and pushed it further. She had just suggested moving it to a more private location.

And what was this dinner he had mentioned? Who had that been with? She didn’t know, and she knew that it could have been any number of people from a girlfriend (though she hadn’t dug one up yet) to his campaign staff to donors and anyone in between.

“You hungry?” he asked with a smile.

In fact, she wasn’t all that hungry. She had too many questions to ask. The reporter in her was about ready to burst.