Bondage and Bureaucracy Unedited Excerpt

A charming little bell chimed as she entered the quaint café. The door swung shut behind her and muffled the sound of the storm while the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled her nostrils. Yes, this is exactly what she needed.

“Large, decafe. Please.” She shoved a handful of sopping curls back from her face then fished through her organizer for cash. “How much is it?”

“Uh…on the house, lady.” The young man behind the counter slid the coffee towards her and offered a sheepish grin.

“Really? On the house?”

With a quick nod, shaggy blond bangs bounced over his eyes.

“Well…well, thank you very much. That’s so kind of you.” Instead of stuffing the two single bills back in her organizer, she dropped them into the fat porcelain cat tip jar beside the register and smiled.

With the exception of the college cutie behind the counter and a suit on the far side of the room, his nose stuck in a book, the café was empty. Pleased with the excess of options, Fiona decided the table near the window was the place where she would enjoy her complimentary cup of java. Maybe after she decompressed, she’d take a trip to the Metropolitan Museum. They were featuring a new Roman Mosaic from Lod, Israel. She didn’t know much about art but thoroughly enjoyed the ambience. Daniel hated the museum. All the more reason to go.

No, she needed something a little more risqué like hitting the Pravda, tipping back a few martinis, and inviting the first man she saw back to her hotel for a fuck.

Oh yes, Daniel would hate that, Fiona thought with her first sip of coffee. With her luck, she would find the only passionate-kisses-gentle-caress type guy in the bar. That’s not what she needed. Not now. Not today. She needed it rough and messy, to be bound and gagged, and she needed it with no strings attached so come tomorrow afternoon when she left New York behind her there wouldn’t be any excess baggage. 

For a moment, she wondered if the idea wasn’t causing steam to rise from her collar then grinned realizing it was just the coffee.

Look what six years of sexless marriage has done to you; it’s turned you into a walking hormone.

Things could have been worse. She could be a bitter divorcee with no sex drive at all.  She inhaled the chicory aroma rising from her cup and closed her eyes. Yes. Things could have been far worse.

“If Chip stares at you any longer, I’m afraid he might very well singe a hole through your blouse.”

Startled, Fiona jumped and spilled half her coffee.

“Shit.”

“Here." Let me give you a hand.”

She looked up. Way up, until her eyes settled on the last person she needed to see when steam was rising from her collar. Harrison Lancaster—the councilman with the killer blue eyes, a voice as rich as silk, and the only man she had ever met who could look at her once and make her feel naked when she was fully dressed.

In stunned silence, she watched him jerk a handful of napkins from the dispenser on the table then proceed to soak up the puddle of coffee threatening to leak onto her lap. The councilman, who was also Daniel’s main rival in the up and coming campaign for United States Senator, had never looked quite so good, Fiona thought guiltily.

Rarely did a woman come across a man so wonderfully built. Long legs. Broad shoulders. Beautifully large hands and strong fingers. Every body part in flawless proportion with the rest of him. At least she imagined everything was in proportion. 

As he hovered over the table, her gaze tipped down to the crotch of his perfectly fitting slacks and lingered as if she stared long and hard enough the fabric would disintegrate and put speculation to rest.

“Fiona, are you all right?” Hearing her name spoken in that Kahlua smooth tone snapped her eyes up from his groin.

“Um…oh, thank you so much for the help. You startled me.” She let out a laugh tinged with hysteria and set down her half empty coffee cup next to the soiled pile of napkins. “I didn’t see you come in or I’d have said, hello.”

“Better you hadn’t. If you approached my table with your blouse in that state, rather than offer a free cup of coffee, I’d be tempted to give you the keys to my apartment.” He gestured a single finger for her to look down. She jerked her chin towards her chest and her mouth dropped open.

“Oh god.” The downpour had made short work of her beige silk blouse, her lacy undergarment from Victoria’s newest catalogue appearing glaringly white even under the soft coffeehouse lighting. Her stiff nipples shoved against the fabric of her bra, leaving little to the imagination. Mortified, Fiona swooped her arms across her breasts then arched an accusing stare at the young man behind the counter who quickly diverted his gaze and proceeded to swipe a damp rag over the coffeemaker. She would admit to enjoying kink but she wasn’t in the habit of flashing young college students for free coffee.

“Mind if I join you?” Before she could answer, Harrison lowered himself into a chair and thankfully blocked the view between Fiona and the curious eyes behind the service counter.

“Thank you for coming over here and telling me. That was very gentlemanly of you, Councilman.”

 “We’ve known each other for six years now, Fiona. I think you’ve put in enough time to call me, Harrison. And while I’m honored you think so highly of me, what makes you think I didn’t come over here for a closer look?”

His smoky gaze heated and the charisma and charm that often won him the majority of female votes wafted across the table and hit her smack dab in the face. He always was a shameless flirt, Fiona thought fighting back a girlish smile as her breasts tingled beneath her damp blouse. Her nipples tightened further with sexual awareness and if steam wasn’t rising from her collar before, it was now. Among a few other places.

Under the table, she crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together to stem the warm moisture flooding her panties. He could make her clit tingle with a mere look. She could only imagine what would happen if he actually touched her. Better yet, fucked her.

Jesus Christ.

The last thing she needed was to end up in bed with another politician, though she couldn’t stop herself from falling into step with his flirting.

“Did you come over here for a closer look, Harrison?” she asked, purposefully enunciating his name. 

Seemingly caught off guard by her proactive remark, he arched a dark eyebrow and offered a slow, sensual smile. “I very well may have, though I imagine my publicist would warn against fully admitting to shamelessly lusting after another man’s wife,” he teased. 

Before she could stop herself, Fiona drew a finger along the naked and pale flesh where her wedding ring once sat snug around her skin, the figurative noose around her neck. No longer being married to Daniel hardly bothered her, though the reminder of the wasted years did.

“I hadn’t planned on eating my size twelve for lunch,” Harrison murmured, wanting to kick himself for not noticing the lack of her wedding ring sooner. Apparently the busy world of New York City didn’t stop when he went out of town to campaign. “Guess my gossip sources aren’t as well informed as I thought.”

Finally, she smiled again but not nearly as freely as she had done earlier. “Your gossip sources are fine,” she replied. “We just finalized the papers this morning.”

He followed her gesture to the high-rise across the street then brought his focus back just as she curved her slender hands around her coffee cup. 

“I hadn’t realized things were heading down that road. I’m sorry.” No he wasn’t.

“No, no don’t be sorry. Really, I’m fine. It was a long time coming.”

My thoughts exactly. Daniel Forrester was a weasly little prick who would sell his mother’s soul for a seat in the senate. How he managed to land an intelligent looker like Fiona, Harrison had no idea. Though to be honest, he’d seen Forrester speak to the public. If he could convince the majority of New York to elect him to city council, no doubt he could spin enough bullshit to convince a woman like Fiona to marry him. Though bullshit only spread so thin.

“Would you like another coffee, lady?” Chip called from behind the counter. “I just brewed a fresh pot of decafe.”

Fiona’s cheeks burned an endearing shade of red. “Um…no. No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Couldn’t blame the kid for trying, Harrison mused. He would have liked another look himself. In fact, he would have liked more than that. Taking her back to his apartment, stripping her out of those wet clothes, tying her to his bed, and fucking her until tomorrow morning came to mind. She was available now….

Christ. Only a madman would entertain the thought of dominating the Governor of Atlanta’s daughter, not to mention his political adversary’s ex-wife. If Fiona had any idea about what was going through his mind, Harrison imagined she would bolt from the table as fast as her legs would carry her.

What if she didn’t though? Looks could be deceiving. If he had learned anything being a politician and a Dom, it was that public appearance didn’t mean a damned thing.

Wishful thinking, Lancaster.

“Are you all right?” Fiona asked, drawing him from his thoughts.   

 “Yeah. I was just thinking if I were Chip, I’d have at least sweetened the pot with a complimentary pastry of some kind.”

She laughed then covered her face with her hands and let out a frustrated moan. “At the rate Italian silk dries, I might be sitting here until next Christmas.”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we? Sit here any longer and poor Chip over there might go into cardiac arrest.” Harrison stood and shrugged out of his suit jacket. He circled behind her and draped the coat around her shoulders. Even wet, her hair was beautiful. He took his time sliding his hands beneath the damp curls, purposefully grazing his knuckles along the nape of her neck before freeing the long locks trapped beneath the collar. The way she shivered in response to his touch made him linger there a lot longer than would have been appropriate had she still been a married woman.

“Is this part of your normal Friday ritual?” she asked, eyeing him from under a crescent of heavy lashes.

He returned to the chair across from her and answered honestly. “Putting more clothes on a woman is hardly normal for me, love.”

The hint of a smile touched her lips. “Well, I know my father would appreciate you breaking routine this one time to protect his reputation. Speaking of reputations, election time is around the corner. Shouldn’t you be off campaigning somewhere instead of giving your clothes away in a coffee shop?”

“I just flew in from upstate this morning, and I’m not giving my clothes away. Consider it a loan.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you for the loan then. I leave for Georgia tomorrow afternoon but I’ll be sure to get back to you.”

She was leaving New York? Tomorrow? Now that was a damned shame. With a little more time….

“Can I have the dry cleaners deliver it directly to your campaign headquarters?”

“No,” he heard himself saying and his own shock mirrored Fiona’s expression. Christ, what was he doing?

“Oh…okay, then where would you like me to have it sent?”

“You won’t need to send it anywhere.” He took her hand in his and pulled her up from the table.

“My place is two blocks south of here. I’m sure I can scrounge something up for you to wear while you toss your blouse in the dryer.”

Taken aback, her fine brow creased. “You…you don’t trust me to give your jacket back?”

He gave a thoughtful pause. “Well, it is a fifteen hundred dollar jacket.”

When her eyes narrowed in suspicion, Harrison couldn’t blame her for it. She was too intelligent not to know he didn’t give a damn about the jacket. With the news of her recent single status, he realized he wanted more of her. In the least, a little more time with her. Something about the woman intrigued him. The moment they met at the Children of Autism charity, he knew she hadn’t belonged amongst the stuffy and self-serving and on the undeserving arm of Daniel Forrester.

To his delight, she wasn’t on Forrester’s arm anymore and regardless of how recently she’d signed her divorce papers on the dotted line, Fiona McBride was now fair game. Vanilla lover or not, he wouldn’t deny the idea of having her luscious body writhing beneath his made his blood heat. An afternoon tryst might be just what he needed to keep the alpha male in him at bay until the election was over and the media coverage died down. If Forrester was as bland in the bedroom as he was in the office, Harrison imagined Fiona was long overdue for a fierce and proper fuck session. Why shouldn’t he be the one to oblige her?