Off the Record (Record #1)(39)

“No? That’s what it sounds like. So, what kind of situation is this?” she asked, her anger resurfacing. She didn’t even know where it came from, because it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to sleep with him, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to keep it a secret. Some innate trigger in her brain was firing and she was listening. “Do you get to sleep with other people? Are you going to be dating someone who fits you better in the spotlight? Should I find someone else to date in the meantime?”

“Liz,” he snapped, cutting off whatever she was going to say next. “I’m not here to argue the point. I’m not here to discuss terms. I want you, and I want you anytime I can have you. That happens to be a much more limited time frame. If you aren’t interested, then good luck with your paper.” He pulled out his wallet, threw two twenties on the table, and stood.

“Wait,” Liz said, reaching for his arm, “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.” Her cheeks flamed at the admission, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him walk out of the diner.

His brown eyes stared right through her, as if measuring the honesty in her statement. “All right,” he said, sitting back down.

“Uh…” she began, nibbling on her bottom lip, “I’ve never exactly been propositioned…let alone at a diner first thing in the morning.”

“As much as I enjoy hearing that…I find it hard to believe. No one has ever come on to you?” he asked inquisitively.

“It’s not that,” she said, trying to find the words. “I’ve had boyfriends before, but I met them in…normal places, like school or work or something. But usually people aren’t that interested before getting to know me. Um…I’ve heard I’m intimidating.” She shrugged.

“Really?” he asked, looking her up and down. “I guess I could see that.”

She didn’t know how. She couldn’t figure out why anyone thought that.

“You’re a well-educated woman at a top university with staggering confidence,” he told her, filling in the blanks.

Liz looked down, overloaded by the compliments. “Well, I did bring a Senator to his knees once,” she said, trying to break the tension.

He chuckled softly. “I hope it’s not just once,” he responded.

Liz stared at the napkin resting on the tabletop. She wasn’t sure what to say. He was making a proposition that, to be honest, sounded downright appealing. It’s not as if they could ever come out and announce they were dating. It’s not as if he had asked to date her. He wanted her and he wanted her whenever he could have her. Those were his words…the terms he refused to discuss.

“You’re thinking too hard about this,” he told her with a shake of his head.

“I can’t think about it?”

“The longer you think about it, the more likely you are to make a decision I don’t agree with,” Brady answered.

“So, you’re saying if I think about it…I’ll realize how much of a bad idea it is to get involved with you?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Something like that.”

“Well, that’s not true. I’ve already realized that.”

“It’s not a good idea.” His voice lowered and he leaned toward her. “I’m not telling you that it’s a good idea. But it’s the only idea.”

“Is that so?” she whispered, meeting his intense tone.

“Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me since we parted.” He waited.

She didn’t respond. How could she?

“Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me pressed against your body, the feel of my lips kissing every inch of your skin, me thrusting in and out of you in the dark hotel room. If you can tell me that, then I’ll let you go. No questions asked,” he said, sitting back once more and crossing his arms. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about any of those things, and your flushed face tells me you haven’t either.”

More than her face was heated at his words. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying not to look away, but he had reminded her of all the things she wanted him to do to her again. It was too early for her body to be responding in this manner.

“So?” he prompted.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about those things…about you,” she fessed up.

“That’s what I thought.”

Cocky son of a bitch! she thought.

“That doesn’t mean I’m ready to do this with you. Whatever this is,” she said, holding her hands up.

Brady sighed. “This is almost whatever you want it to be. It’s not public. It’s not in the news. It’s not a point the campaign can use against me. It’s a woman and a man taking what they can in a world where it’s not feasible for us to be together. I’m not promising you much, but I’m only asking for discretion. Everything else you give me is up to you.”

“Discretion.” She said the word like it was a viper ready to strike. Discretion wasn’t afforded in journalism.

“I’ll be up-front with you. I might hurt you. You’re going in knowing that. I’m choosing the campaign. I’m choosing Congress, because it’s what I want and what I believe in. Nothing, no one is getting in the way of me and the House of Representatives.”