For the Record (Record #3)(65)

“Not much time.”

Liz sidled up to him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “I’ll be quick.”

He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Only when we’re in a crowded theater.”

“Tease,” she purred.

“No. If I was teasing,” he said, turning and pressing her back into the wall. His hand slid up her thigh and pulled it up around his hip. “I would tell you about how much I want to f*ck you just like this.”

A moan escaped her lips and all she wanted to do was tug him closer.

“But I’m not a tease,” he said before stepping away from her.

Liz dropped her leg and stuck her bottom lip out. “Not nice.”

“Come on, baby. If you want to change out of that dress before dinner, we need to leave now.”

She threaded his tie through her hands and tugged him closer. “Two can play at this game, Congressman Maxwell.”

“I look forward to it, Miss Dougherty.”

They took the town car out to his house so Liz could change. She latched on to his arm when they pulled into the driveway. “Come with me?” she whispered.

He gave her a searching look. “We don’t have time.”

“Please?” she pleaded.

“Begging,” he groaned. She loved using his weaknesses against him.

Brady followed her out of the car and spoke briefly to the driver before following her inside and up into his bedroom. She plucked a green strapless dress out of the closet and a pair of nude pumps.

“You requested my presence?” he asked, walking toward her.

“Stand right there and don’t move.” She must have sounded convincing enough, because Brady stopped and did as she told. “You can look but not touch.”

He arched an eyebrow, but made a big show of stuffing his hands into his pockets. If he could slam her into walls and turn her on then she could certainly do the same to him.

Ever so slowly, Liz started turning in a circle so that he could feast his eyes on her body. Her hands went to the buttons on her dress and from top to bottom she plucked each one open. By the time she reached the last one, Brady had taken two steps closer to her. She could see the desire on his face.

She turned her back on him, shaking out her blond curls, and then dropped the dress over her shoulders. It pooled at her feet, leaving her nearly naked from the behind save for her baby-pink bra and matching silk thong. She heard Brady suck in a breath behind her and she couldn’t help but smirk.

Her hands reached behind her and undid the hook and eye that released her breasts from the bra. She tossed it to the ground behind her at Brady’s feet and then slowly turned back to face him. He had moved forward another few feet. This time his expression didn’t just hold desire; it was outright need. He looked ready to pounce on her, but she held her hand up.

“Uh-uh. Look. No touch,” she cooed.

His breathing was increasingly ragged as she continued to boss him around. She plucked the side of her thong like a guitar string. His hands twitched in his pockets as if he wanted to be the one doing that. Then she dragged the underwear down her thighs to the floor. She was left before him in nothing but her black heels.

“What do you think?” she asked, twirling.

“I think that you’ve teased long enough.”

“Ah-ah!” she said, stepping out of his grasp. “We have an important dinner to attend. I need to get dressed.”

“You make this impossible.”

Liz giggled and walked over to her dress. She pulled it off the hanger and began unzipping the back. She felt Brady’s hands slide around her. “I love you,” he whispered.

She smiled. “I love you too.”

“Get dressed and we’ll fix this problem when we get home.” His hand slid between her bare legs and she shook all over. Brady sighed. “All right. Let me just text Chelsea and tell her we’re going to be late.”

Liz nodded and walked back into the closet to change. She pulled the dress on and started fixing her hair in the mirror, when he returned.

“Take that off,” he commanded.

“What?”

“Off. Now.”

“What about dinner?”

“Dinner is canceled. Chelsea asked to reschedule, because she’s not feeling well. She asked if we could just talk at the Jefferson-Jackson gala next weekend.”

“Is that already coming up?” she asked.

“Later than last year,” he said with a shrug. “Now back to business at hand. That dress belongs on the floor.”

Chapter 21

JEFFERSON-JACKSON GALA

Three weeks later, Liz stepped out of Brady’s limo in a floor-length teal off-the-shoulder gown. She and Victoria had gone shopping earlier that week for the dress, and the silky material fit like a glove. Her hair was swept into an elaborate updo, with a braided section pulled back into an intricate bun. She brushed her bangs to the side, to conform to the natural wave of her hair, which she tucked loosely behind her ear. She wore dangly diamond earrings and a thin diamond necklace that brushed her collarbones.

She remembered how two years ago she had shown up in a simple black knee-length gown. She had caught Brady’s eye then, and now she was on his arm. Not for the first or last time, she felt as though she were living a dream.