Chapter Twenty-Three

MacKenzie tugged at her robe, well fuck. What the hell? His face was thunder and his eyes were cool as steel. Not like the cobalt fire she’d been ready to near lose herself in just a minute ago. She snatched the Blackberry from his grasp.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” It was one thing he was standing there ready to lay into her, it was another thing to be reading her Blackberry. She’d already been in a daze when she’d managed to escape him earlier, before her will snapped and she’d done something she regretted.

"It was an accident, but that's not the point. I should be apprised on all leads."

He crossed his arms. He was well aware he'd breached a boundary, but their situation was far from normal. Ethics could take a flying leap. Especially when she wasn’t keeping him informed.

She tucked the Blackberry into the pocket of her robe and crossed her arms. “Does Homeland security tell the president every single threat or do they wait and find out what’s really going on before they cause unnecessary panic?” Her brow arched as she stood defiant, she’d done nothing damn wrong here.

"This isn't a usual case, Kenz. Don't give me that higher than mighty shit. That might work with some clients but not me." He leaned forward. "What don't I know?"

She wanted to bark louder at him, but the look of worry swiped across his face made her re-think. “This morning on the porch, at the house. I found a bunch of photos that were left there for us, of us-kissing back on the beach.”

“Who left them there?” He demanded, feeling the heat creep us his neck.

“Who do you think, but I’m running them for prints. I didn’t tell you because-“

“And what was the family problem and why don’t I know anything of it?”

She winced, “one of the photos was of your house in New Jersey.” She held her hand up, “now before you go all loco on me I’ve had someone take care of it, step up the surveillance around your family.” She raked her hand through her hair as he didn’t move, his eyes pinned her to the floor. “These are just scare tactics Jon, they’re playing with us.”

"You told me my family was fine!" He palmed the door and pushed her back. "I haven't seen my kids in days to make sure the focus stays on me. What the hell, MacKenzie?"

She took a step back as he pushed her and then steadied herself. "Hey, they're fine. This is what you employ me for Jon, to make the call. I made the call and I stand by it. They're not in any immediate danger but if they were I'd tell you. Now I need my dress," she had to get past him away from him. The hurt and anger she saw swimming in his eyes she needed to get away from.


He followed her back into his bedroom. "When would you tell me? When one of them were dead?" He gripped around the door. "Is that when it would be important enough?" Fear and anger coalesced until he was blind with it. "The only thing that means anything to me is those kids."

“I know they are, but I have to separate the emotion out of the job Jon. That’s why I couldn’t tell you, I needed to take care of it before I informed you. That’s how I roll.” She scraped the red dress off the rack and turned to him. “I’m doing my job, you trusted me to do this...my way.” She may have stepped out of line with the kids, but this is exactly why she hadn’t told him earlier, he’d of panicked and rang them causing all kind of hysteria.

Guilt burned, she knew what his kids meant. Of course she did, god she knew those kids like she would her own with the amount of DVDs, stories and pictures she’d been told and shown. There was always this sparkle in his eyes when he talked about those kids, it was those things that kept it hard to separate Jon from just a job.

"We're going to be late."

"Fuck the benefit!" He gripped the door of his closet. He couldn't look at her--staring into the row of suits he'd been forced to add to his wardrobe, the black blended together. Hot rage pooled into the base of his spine, spiking until he had to let go of the door.

“Look, I’m sorry if you’re upset but this is my job, my call. You employed me to do this, so you have to trust me. Just remember that.” Gah, she should have been easier on him but she wasn’t in the mood for his mood, and he’d read her Blackberry. She slammed the door hard behind her, and set about getting dressed for this damn function. Her arms wavered as she pinned pearl drops in her ears. She cleared her messages and made sure David kept her up to date on the photos and now the family situation.

She stepped into fire-red stilettos and twisted her hair into a neat up-do with the occasional wisps floating around her face. She adjusted the holster around her thigh and made sure her purse was organized, amidst the slams and bangs that were happening outside the door. She took a deep breath and made her way up to the large living room mirror, where he was straightening his tie. It had become somewhat of a tradition that they met at this mirror before they headed out to these benefits.


He caught her in the reflection as he tightened his tie. Flipping down his collar, he tried to tamp down the raging hormones that roared as the dress hugged her from breast to hip then flowed down until it grazed the floor. Regal. Statuesque. Understated elegance.

His fingers wanted to muss her up, drag her down onto the floor until he could hike up that perfect silk and find hers. She looked away from her, shame flashed high in his cheeks. He was worried about his kids. He had no business looking at her like that now. Manners screamed that he should tell her how amazing she looked, but the words were lodged with his anger in his throat.

Instead he went to the door and pulled her wrap off the hook, holding it open. His eyes met hers without a word.

The click of her heels cut the silence as they walked through the lobby, if he was going to ignore her then so be it. She stood by her decision, and that was the end of it. She groaned as George came into view, and spread the fake smile across her face. She took his hand and laced her fingers through his, they had to still play—they didn’t know for sure what the hell the gang knew.

His palm zinged at the contact. The fresh and spicy scent of ginger lingered between them like a thread. The driver was at the curb the door open for the both of them.

The car ride was interminable. Her fingers next to his on the seat, but not touching. Staring ahead, but no speaking. The long, elegant line of her neck drove him to distraction. The velvet wrap swung around her shoulders dipping at the back of her neck. Wispy hairs teased the lovely column, distracting him from the duty and the anger he couldn't seem to separate.

It wasn't like he'd shared everything with her. Or the various threats on his live over the years with his family. He knew it was stupid to be so angry at her, but the threat to his family pushed this....thing between them into the realm of reality instead of playing house like they had been doing.

As they pulled up to the gala, he opened the door and helped her out, careful to keep her tight to his body. Ginger and MacKenzie threatened to drag him back into that web of seduction. The pull of their bodies and the acting that suited them a little too easily.

God help them.

~

She hung on his arm as the ritual of nightly introductions began the approving nods in her direction and even sometimes the jealous stares she knew would be candy gossip in the ladies room later.

She smiled to herself, her and Jon would always play a stupid little game sometimes over what people were saying about them. But tonight, they were flat. The physical energy was still simmering between them, and it was hard to ignore with him so close to her.

She plucked a glass of wine off the tray as the Puerto-Rican young man walked past them. He looked a little familiar but she couldn't place it. She took a long sip, and swallowed it along with her pride. The silence was becoming ridiculous, she missed him. Sad but true his sarcastic wit at these things kept her sane till home time.

"Oh look its Mrs Plastic Surgery, how much do you want to bet she got a boob job since the last function?" she whispered in his ear feeling herself relax already. Damn good wine.

The olive branch was about as subtle as a brick, but he took it anyway. "They can do it through your belly button these days, you know."

"Hmm maybe I should get mine done..." she looked down to her more than ample breasts nestled at the top of her dress. Her head was growing heavy and her tongue loose.

"What do you think?"

"I think the only one touching them should be me." He said and frowned. Damn. Where'd that come from? She swung the glass his way and braceleted her wrist. "Hey now."

She blinked and snapped her head up at him, she stifled a giggle before a hiccup as his face twisted before her eyes. "I want that too." Damn, what the hell? Wake up MacKenzie. You've had half a glass of wine, anyone would think you’d---

Her stomach knotted as she fought with the urge to sink into his body. Stay calm, oh god, oh shit. She had to lean into him or she'd look like a certified drunk. She wrapped her arms around his neck when he took her drink off her and buried her face in his neck. Just a PDA... that's all. "I don’t feel so good, I think there was something in my drink."

His body reacted to her nearness, curling her into him. His hand rested at her back as her words broke through. "What?" He sniffed the glass. "I don't smell anything."

The waiter, oh god the waiter. How could she have not seen it? Been so careless, after everything that was happening. "Is there a Puerto Rican waiter looking at us? Don't draw attention to us whatever you do." She spoke slowly and fought to keep calm and collected, finding solace in the warmth of his neck.

He quietly scanned the room, making sure to rest his eyes on every person he knew in the vicinity with a smile. As he head hopped, he scanned the waiters in that elitist gaze that all of the hired help were used to seeing.

Finally--one pair of eyes seemed to keep going back to them. When he finished his tray, he backed out of the room. "He's leaving," he whispered back, his fingers tightening on her waist.

"Ok, it's important we stay here in the crowd. So no matter what happens. What I do -- don't isolate us." She tugged herself in closer to him slowly as any woman would to her man. The smell of him was becoming overbearing. Her senses were heightened. She was indeed drugged. How could she be so stupid? "And Jon, if worst comes to worst. The gun is on my thigh." Her lips slid up the clavicle of his neck, her tongue was buzzing against his skin. Oh god, no this is not what she needed. Some kind of party street drug that was going to make her a mess.

Her hands hooked around his waist, and her fingers teased along the back of his belt. "Evidently. This could be your lucky night."

Jon swallowed hard, meeting her widened pupils. She had a soft edge to her eyes and the obvious sheen of chemicals, but his body reacted anyway. Hot and potent, his cock rose against her hip as she smoothed her hand down his ass. "Okay, let's go to the dance floor. Even a rock star can't get away with too much PDA at a Democratic function."

She nodded as he led her there slowly, a step at a time not to draw any unseen attention to them. She had to get hard and ride it out. It would wear off eventually. Her mind flashed back to her marine training when they were drugged and made to stay alert, that seemed so long ago...and fuzzy.

Thank god it was her and not him, and thank god it was only half a glass. Her body was buzzing and the tips of her toes tingling. “I’m sorry Jon, for tonight...” She murmured as she pressed her forehead to his.

"Aww hell," he sighed drawing his hand up her shoulder blades to her neck. His thumb brushed along her spine. "It's not important now." He tucked her head against his shoulder, keeping them in a steady box step at the center of the crowd.

Not used to the vulnerability she was showing he firmed up his hold. He wasn't sure how long it would take to get her through this, but he'd hold her tight as long as she needed him to.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jon paced the kitchen. They'd been back in SoHo for hours. The trip back to the city was about as uncomfortable as you could get. Thankfully each of them had an active blackberry that filled the silence. In fact, he had a pile of messages waiting for him as soon as he walked in the door.

He tuned back into the conversation as the charity schpiel ran longer than usual. "Look, Mark. You know you have the full backing of the Soul, but I need--" his words cut off as he passed the door and MacKenzie arched back, her thigh rotating in slow circles as she scissor kicked then came back up on her knee to do it again.

Do not look, she’s your bodyguard for Christ’s sake...He'd already been haunted by the shower incident.

Muscles gleamed under the spandex/cotton mix while she lowered herself into another position. The only thing distracted him from all that was going on, was the thing that was saving him.

"Huh?"

"Are you there?"

Jon swallowed, dragging his eyes away from the lithe form of her and started out the window. Brick, much better. Sweet fuck. "Yeah, I'm here. Set up a meet with Amy, okay? She's running the day to day planning. We'll donate what we can and we'll help you run a function. That's the best I can do until after the election. I'm booked for personal appearances until Obama gets into office.

"Sure of your guy this time, huh Jon?"

Jon laughed, his gaze tracking back to Kenzie. "Only thing I'm sure of these days, Mark. I hope he has your vote too."

"No need to stomp for me, Jon. I'm with you."
Jon smiled, opening the fridge for a bottle of water. "Glad to hear it. Okay, I'll talk to you in a few weeks."

He tucked his iPhone into his shorts and gluggled down half of his bottle before he made it out of the kitchen. Christ, she was limber. Don't look at her. But it was too late, she was on her knees, her back arched as her ass lifted into the air with her chin pressed into her hands. Fuck. He sat down at his desk, angling his laptop to block her, but kept peeking over the top.

The way she extended her leg and rotated her hip made his mouth water. As she tucked her knee in close to her body then extended again he groaned into his bottle, finishing it off. He tapped on his keyboard but didn't see a damn thing on his screen. In fact, he could have been reading Russian for all he knew.

She finally kneeled, lowering her butt to her ankles and curled forward in the last of her stretches. He fucking tortured himself with watching her do this daily and yet he never learned. Never went into his room, never found something else to do.
Because you're an ass. Or was it more like you like her ass? Jon thunked his forehead on the table.

She exhaled deeply and popped herself up off the ground, shaking out her tension. It’s just what she needed. The morning had brought about interesting events, she’d been up early and done a perimeter check which brought about finding the envelope left at the back door. Filled with photographs of them kissing on the beach earlier that day. They were being watched.

It wasn’t news to her obviously, but it just drummed home the need that they had to be extra careful. She felt a hell of a lot better that they were back in the apartment, with a decent level of security. She’d failed to tell Jon about the photographs, thinking it was best she try and get them scanned for prints first. She spun run at the thunk behind her, and chuckled at Jon face down on his laptop.

“Rough day already?” She reached up and clasped her hands above her head and stretched.

If a constant hard on equaled rough, then yeah. "I'll be glad when the Obama thing is over and he's elected." He tried not to stare at the heart shaped sweat stain that bloomed from her breasts.

She swiped her water bottle off the table and took a healthy sip. She wiped her hand across her mouth and nodded. "Yeah, seems like he's a popular boy. Just what this country needs in my personal opinion."

"I'm banking on it, literally." He stood, pacing away from her. The light sheen of sweat on her shoulders and the crisscrossing t-back bra she wore under the oversized tanktop was going to be the death of him. It wasn't sexy dammit. It flattened her breasts, not made them...he groaned and went back to the fridge. No worries on his eight glasses of fucking water today. He walked back into the room with half the bottle gone again and sucked back a string of curses as she swiped at the sweat on her neck with the bottom of her shirt. The light indents of her six pack tightened as she bent over, then straightened up. She dropped the shirt and he wished for death.

She needed a shower and she needed to get ready for the next function on his docket which was tonight at some fancy to do party. Thank god she’d been vigorous keeping up her training schedule, all these parties could easily take a toll on her waist line.

It wasn't the dresses she was dreading tonight, it was the heat between them. There would be no way to physically escape it. No combat training in the world had her prepared for this. It was for the best they stayed like this. She had no choice. Least that's what she kept telling herself as her eyes dropped down the long lean line of his torso. His pecks stretched out the black cotton material showing off tight, damn tight muscles.

Her eyes fell further down to the tight grey shorts he was wearing, and quickly away when she spotted the obvious rise in his shorts. Shit.

"Uh, so what time do we have to leave?" she asked taking a step back.

His brow arched at her retreat. He caught her eyes dropping low then quickly meeting his own. Well, well. He stepped forward. "We've got some time." Making quick work of the distance between them, he smirked. "Any ideas?" Be damned morality.

Her head snapped up to meet his eyes, twinkling with something...something she wanted. She needed to break it, “we eat? They always have such small helpings at those dinners.”

"I'm only hungry for one thing." He stepped forward again, the predatory instinct racing in his blood when she took another back. "Could be salty," he took another step, his toes buried into the plush shag of the area rug near his couch. "Or sweet."

Her heart hammered loudly in her throat as she swallowed. Jesus Christ, he wasn't going to give up on this. There was only so much a woman could do to fight her instincts. Instincts that involved her hands in that hair and mouth on that neck.
The next step she took connected her back with the wall. He's just a man, get a grip. You've been intimidated by much worse. Her eyes widened and her stanch stiffened. "Jon," Christ she couldn't even speak properly. She winced as it came out like a simpering woman.

He braced a hand over her head, looking down at her. "Kenzie," he said on a low voice. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes, then down to that blasted heart on her chest. He traced his fingertip along the line of the oversized tank as it dipped low along her bra. He smiled slowly as her nipples tightened under the red cotton. "Cold?"

The hairs on her arms prickled as she shook her head. She was anything but cold, and evidently she was now speechless as well. Her toes curled into her sneakers, the memory of what he felt like washed over her. He was here for the taking. "No". Did she mean no she wasn't cold? Or no for him to stop, the meaning to the word became a blur as her nipples tightened again as he moved within an inch from her face.

His chest rested against hers as he propped himself away from her...barely, with his other hand. "No?" He rubbed lightly from side to side, watching as her jaw clench. "I could have sworn you were cold."

She bit her bottom lip, so she was defenceless now? One swift kick to his balls would end this. So why the fuck couldn't she do it? She tried to merge into the wall behind her unsuccessfully.

You need to stop this, her eyes met his...stop...this...her hands curled into fists, the friction of his body against hers was making her ache in places they shouldn't. "Jon, I've got to go and get ready..."

"Need any help with zippers?" he said against her mouth, but still didn't touch her.

Her hands pressed against his chest but he didn't budge. His strength held its ground. She closed her eyes and waited. Maybe he'd go away, god make him go away. She couldn't do this much longer.

He could push it. He knew if he just stepped over the line just a little more, he'd have her wrapped around him. Finally. As she swallowed with difficulty, unable to look at him, he stepped away. "Go."

The void of his body leavings hers was strange, now she was cold. She held out her hand, "Wait Jon" when he stopped the self control she had snapped inside her of her. She dragged him closer to him and took. Her mouth latched to his swallowing his breath as her hands wound around his neck and her fingers inched up into his hair.

Thank fuck Jon dragged her up against him, the kiss was harsh and out of control. He didn't care, he just needed a taste. Something, anything to tide him over. His cock was stone hard and he was going to end up pounding out an orgasm in the shower, he knew it now. But goddamn it, he'd take what he could get.

His fingers threaded into her sweaty hair, tugging out the ugly little knot she had it in on top of her head. The silky strands would around his wrist, his arms and her unique flavor roared in his head.

She moaned into his mouth, this is what this had come to. She fought for control in the kiss as it deepened and his knee came up between her legs pinning her back against the wall.

He tasted dark and sweet with a hint of mint from the chewing gum he'd been popping in his mouth for the last hour. She wanted all of him, she'd lost the capacity to care at this moment that this was wrong. This was against everything she stood for.

His mouth left hers, and she by instinct tipped her head back letting his lips slide down her neck. Hot and wet, they left a trail of destruction in their path. Sweet jesus, she wanted him to take her, right here and right now, be damned the consequences. She dragged her gaze back to his, and her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Lust was replaced with something deeper, something richer--something she knew she wanted but couldn't have with him right now. "God, no..." she pushed him back and cupped his face. "I want this, more than anything I've wanted in a long time. But I can't, as your bodyguard I just can't put your life at risk again..."

She removed herself completely "When this is all over maybe we can then, but I- I just can't," she turned and jogged up the stairs before she even had a chance to change her mind.

"Son of a--" he slapped his open palm against the wall and the resounding clash of nervendings dragged him back to reality. "Fuck." he growled and plowed his fingers through his hair. He couldn't even be mad at her or call her eight kinds of a tease because he understood responsibility much more than even a father, husband and CEO should. Responsibility had been drilled into him until he didn't know anything else.

He dropped into the plush leather couch that usually gave him some modicum of relief, but not even a slice of that comfort could help him now. He swiped the magazines off the coffee table and resisted the urge to upend the stupid thing. Kicking it instead, it banged into the hutch and Mac's blackberry spun arcross the room.

"Nice," he muttered and stood to pick it up.

He cringed as it went through a smear of dust bunnies from under the table. Man, he needed to have the cleaning crew in again. The city dragged in more dust and dirt...he rubbed it against his shorts and the face lit up as another message came through. His thumb hovered over the accept button automatically, so used to answering his own iPhone, but his finger stopped. It wasn't his.

He climbed the stairs to give it to Kenzie just in case something was wrong and it buzzed in his hand again. A third message popped up Urgent-re your pictures found at beach


Well fuck. What pictures? He pressed his thumb on the send button. Fuck that. Send me the pictures over by urgent courier, I’ll scan them today. Keep him close, and I’ve closed out the family problem.

Family problem? What the hell was that supposed to mean? And what pictures were they talking about?

The door opened wide and he looked up, her blackberry in his hand. "What the fuck was the family problem and why don't I know about it?"

While you were sleeping...

He sat listening to the sound of the waves as they crashed up against the beach.

Angry.

He was angry and there was only one reason for it.

Rich man.

He puffed out the last of his cigarette and flicked it across the deck, “Jerome!”He drummed his fingers on the end of the chair as he waited. The stupid asshole got scared and ran inside the house, he snorted delighted, “What a wimp.” He looked up as Jerome creaked across the decking.

“Yo. What’s up?” They slapped hands and pulled them back fast.

“Did you get the pictures I asked?” He lifted the beer and leant back rolling the butt of it across his belly.

“Sure did, little kissy-kissy on the beach. She’s one hot mama rich man’s got.”

He nodded and clicked his fingers. “Show me them.”

Rich men that played with Democrats he mused. They pretended that the world was about to change, that it could change, it was a nice sentiment to write home about. Yet, in the entire ass kissing and let’s change this country for the better, they couldn’t even give his baby brother a chance at a dream. A fucking dream.

He wanted to slice the fucking Rich man’s smug smile right off his face. He picked through the photos of Rich man loving it up on the beach with the hot looking chick. The chick that had a gun. Black watch wasn’t stupid. The guy had may have had protection, he’d seen that coming but the surprise attack on the house brought it to light. Guns didn’t scare him.

He handed them back, “you know what to do with them.”
Jerome shoved them back in the over sized envelope. “You want me to rough up the place while they sleep?”

He should, but he shook his head. “No, let’s see what the Rich bastard does next. Him and his little chick with a gun. Did you get an ID on her?”

Jerome shrugged, “Mackenzie Philips doesn’t bring up anything anywhere, I checked her out. She’s registered as an office assistant. “ They’d kept an eye on the press when they were splashed across magazines and papers at all these fancy-to-do fucking events.

“She can cover her tracks well, she has to be his cover, although Rich man was quite content to hide in the house when you were there. Maybe he likes a woman in charge. We’ll keep an eye on her. I’m not scared of her, or him.”

“What’s next?” Jerome asked pulling his hood up over his head.

“You drop the photos, and then we watch what they do next. If he’s smart he’ll come to his senses and call Wes into the team. If he’s not---“ Black watch glanced out to the dark sea. “It’s time to ramp things up a little and make him wish he’d never gone there.”

“And Wes will get on the team?”

He took a long pull from his beer and nodded. “Wes will get on the team, at any cost.”

~~

Chapter Twenty-One

She squirted the shampoo into her hand and raked it through her hair. The hot needles beating down on her did little for the tension in her shoulders and neck. She’d emailed David to get onto any blogger sites, and scan for evidence that her cover had been blown. God, she was stupid sometimes. A damn fan for Christ’s sake? They’d have to up the public presence of them being a believable couple at the very least, especially if they were being watched.

She stepped back and closed her eyes, letting the steam combine with heat wash away the day. The minty cloud did nothing to overpower the smell of him that still lingered in the shower. The same smell of leather and soap that followed her around daily.

MacKenzie had a problem, and it wasn’t just that they were in a sticky situation. She was falling for Jon, and hard. She knew that this was going to take all the strength above and beyond all the physical training she had endured in her life. The pull of attraction to him, made her ache if she let it. It was a fucked up situation to be in, resisting a man that you had to touch as part of your job. It just wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t fair to him, her employer that she was distracted.

She tried to ask herself why she was falling for the man, he matched her strength and her will in life. He was a good person, he made her laugh and he knew what he wanted and how to get it. Putting aside he was insanely hot and was a great kisser. Christ MacKenzie.

For the last hour she’d tried in her head to think of every way to make this even work, but she couldn’t. As long as she was responsible for his life, she couldn’t be in love with him.

Jon woke, a couch cushion jammed under his cheek and one of the throws over his shoulders. The downstairs held the blue cast of night. They’d been watching a movie, but he must have dozed off. Sleep was something he didn’t allow himself all that much. In fact, he pretty much sustained himself on five hours a night, but every once in awhile he dropped like a stone for an extra long nap.

Sea air and two beers will do that, ass hole.

He grimaced, rubbing his neck as he sat up. The couch was definitely not like his leather one at home. He shuffled up the stairs, dragging his t-shirt over his head. The house felt stifling. Of course security girl had every flippin’ window practically nailed shut for security reasons. He wasn’t sure what kind of info she’d gotten from her partner, but whatever it was had her over cautious.

Scratching his belly, he pushed the door to the bathroom open before he noticed the shower running and the low lights of the vanity mirror as Kenzie’s only illumination. What was she doing taking…

His thoughts trailed off as she lifted her arms to wring soap from her hair. The suds slithered over her shoulders and down the sweet dip of her amazing back. The bubbles gathered at the cleft of her cheeks before making tracks over her hips and her ropy runner’s legs.

She turned to duck her head under the rainwater showerhead and he stumbled back a step. The high curve of her breast beaded tight as the steam wafted up from her rain dotted skin. The long line of her torso made his mouth water, especially when she turned her face up to the spray, obviously enjoying the heat.

Stop watching, perv. Jon bumped into the door and out, pressing his back to the cool wall. He dragged his hand through his hair. Good job, asshole, now you get to live with that in your head. Congrats.

He kicked open his own door and ripped off the rest of his clothes. The crisp cotton of the sheets only made his dick harden more. He stared at the ceiling. It was going to be a long fucking night.

She cranked off the shower and wrapped a towel swiftly around her body and made her way back to the guest room. She couldn't see him right now, not when she was all riled and primed for jumping his bones. Sleep. That's what she needed.

At two am she cursed into the dark room and sat up and flipped on the bedside lamp. This was ridiculous, she couldn't sleep. Every creek or noise in the house had her up checking out the window or peering down the hallway. She didn't know whether she was on guard for an intruder, or Jon slipping into her bed. She gave a disgusted huff and grabbed the blanket and headed downstairs. She needed some space between them, as long as she knew they were not far apart naked in bed. She wasn't going to sleep.

She crept around, careful to make as less noise as possible finding candles and some matches before heading out to the porch. It was seasonably chilly, but she liked the cold. It always cleared her head. Tugging the blanket around her body she pulled her knees into her chest and stared out at the street. It was going to be a long night, but the gentle glow of candlelight and sea breeze was already calming her.

Jon rocketed his pillow across the room and watched as his Lazy boy swished with the heavy feather pillow bomb. Christ, that was the third pillow to make it onto the chair, but it still didn't stop the scene of bubbles and steam that was tripping like a broken record in his head.

He was acting like a randy 15 year old on his first crush for fuck's sake. He needed sleep, this thing to be over...And MacKenzie flat on her back, thighs open.

"Argh!" he screamed into his remaining pillow. He swung his feet out and jerked his jeans on. Obviously he needed a cigarette before he went out of his mind and crawled into her bed, damn the consequences.


He felt around his pockets and swore. Of course they were in his coat pocket because he didn't fucking smoke in his own goddamn house. He padded down the stairs, the moonlight gilding his living room with enough white light that he could see his coat rack.

Reaching around the various jackets, he found the one he was wearing earlier and sure enough--there they were.

MacKenzie jerked her head up at the scuffle. Oh god, please don’t say they’ve come back for more, into the house and are escaping through the front. I’m sure I checked that back door. She snuck to the side of the door and waited for her assailant, they wouldn’t expect her so she’d easily be able to get the upper hand. The door creaked open and she took a deep breath. With one flying leap she screamed took him from the back wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, his cool skin pressing against her. Skin? Oh shit --- they both fell with a thump onto the hardwood floor.

He grunted under her as she tried to remove her limbs now entwined with his. "Shit" she muttered as her face scrunched into his neck. "You need to move..."

He tried to think about moving, but her knee was about a millimetre from his nuts. He hissed. "Mac, if you move your knee I'm going to be singing a new octave on Friday night."

“Oh god, sorry...” She shifted her weight and rolled back onto the floor, so much for keeping away from him – naked.

Jon rolled over onto her once more. Her eyes glittering in the low light of the tree shadowed porch. "Is there a reason you tackled me? Or do you just find me that irresistible?"

Her eyes fell to his lips. Someone up there really hates me, seriously. Their eyes meant and her heart thundered in her chest. What if she said yes, what if she gave in and kissed him? Would he take her to his bed? “I thought you were an intruder, after today...I was on edge.” His eyes searched hers, all she had to do was say it, or do it. “Help me up?” Chicken.

He figured it was probably best to listen to what she said, not what her body was doing under his. Not the fact that her thighs had opened to accept him or that her nipples were currently digging through his chest hair. He should probably listen to her. Probably. His mouth lowered, barely brushing her lips.

He knew she could heave him off with little effort, but did she really want to?

Her fingers curled around his neck, and the heat pulsed off his body between them. Barely a kiss but a challenge, he wasn’t going to back down, she was. She pressed her forehead against his and sighed. Beneath them, against her belly she could feel the tell tale signs of his erection.

Her lips grazed his full bottom one, why did this feel so god damn right? Her tongue traced his upper lip before she retreated. That was as far as she could go. "Jon you gotta get off me," her voice cracked and she could of cursed herself for it.

He braced a palm on each side of her face. His eyes raked over her flushed cheeks, the quick rise of her breasts under him as he slowly pushed off of her. Everything inside of him told him to press harder. Just a little more and he'd have her. The threads of attraction were binding and braiding between them, he could feel it. Just a step farther and he'd finally...What? He'd sleep with his bodyguard.

With a curse, he lifted off of her and grabbed his smokes that had fallen to the floor. He banged through the French doors, his lighter the only light beyond the stars. He dragged in deeply; the rush of nicotine cleared his head. He blew it out, an almost inaudible, "fuck," with the last of the wispy grey smoke.

She hoisted herself back up and dusted off her thighs. She followed him back inside, even side on the night light showed off the perfect contours of his body. Damn sometimes it was really just better to imagine what was under there, than have it shoved in your face. The light splatter of fur on his chest made her fingers curl, she wanted to touch. And his biceps and abs, just ridiculous. She was getting zero-sleep tonight. Before she thought more she reached up and traced the outline of the steers head on his arm. “Where did you get this?”

She looked out into the dense pathways behind his house. Laughing darkly, he blew out another stream of smoke. "The day I got married. Figured a little more pain was due me, evidently."

She nodded. "I'm sure." It would have been easier if he was still married. Then she'd know he was off limits. No bounds. She moved her hand off him and ran it down the wooden pillar. "So what do we have next on our agenda? Hillary's bash?"

He crossed his arms, kneading his fingers into his bicep. "Yeah, Mrs. C's been good to me, least I can do is help her save face."

She kept her gaze on him but his was still out to the yard. "You know Jon I've been around a lot of high profiled people. But I've got to say, you are one of the most down to earth ones, I've met. Plus I can see you ave a big heart. That's commendable."

I'd rather have a big orgasm. "Thanks. I'm lucky enough to give back." He crouched down and stabbed out his butt. Trying to ignore her silky calves right there, he could trace his knuckle up and along her inner thigh...Stop. Fuck.

She watched him slowly rise all the way back up, until his eyes again her heavy on hers. "I guess we need to get to bed, I mean beds. Us...."

His mouth quirked. "Yeah, my bed's calling my name."


So is mine. She waited for him to lead the way so she knew he was safely inside before they snicked the locks. She followed his lead back up the stairs where he stopped at his door. He was testing her right to the damn end. All she could see was the king sized bed, strewn in sheets behind him. When his eyebrow quirked she took a deep breath. "Night Jon" and quickly found the safety of the guest room.

"Night, Kenzie." Her shoulders stiffened just before she closed herself off from him. Good, I'm not the only one that's suffering. He shut his door and shucked his jeans. "Four fucking AM," he muttered and buried his head in his lone pillow.

Chapter Twenty

MacKenzie wrapped her arms around herself as the breeze whipped around her on the porch. He’d been inside for almost thirty minutes now and she hadn't gone in. She scanned the immediate area and reached for her cell and texted back David to confirm they were all ok. She snapped it shut and slid it into her pocket. This is ridiculous, if he can’t handle you doing your job, it’s his problem.

The floorboards creaked as she walked slowly back inside. She made her way up to his room where she’d left her piece. He really had to get over what ever the hell crawled up his ass, he knew the score. She paused, he had his back to her and was propped up in the large cane chair facing the window, strumming a guitar.

Unnoticed she sunk against the doorframe and watched him, the way his fingers danced effortlessly across the strings and how completely relaxed he look made her smile. “Did you still want dinner?”

He stiffened. The sad notes of the Dylan song drifted away until he flattened his palm over the strings, twirling the neck a few times until it faced away and he could drop it into the guitar stand. "I'm not hungry." He strode past her, not quite able to look at her.

He knew she was doing her job, but it didn't make it any less annoying when she'd so cooly put him in his place. They were adults and even more important, they were professionals. He'd do well to remember that when his hormones stopped the blood flow around the belt buckle. Fuck

He walked across the cluttered room, dropping onto the couch with the remote in his hand. Please God, have a football game on.

She rolled her eyes as he moved across the room and didn’t acknowledge her by sight. What else could she do? She was putting him at risk telling him how she felt, this was her job. People didn’t just go and fall in love with their charges, that sort of thing only happened on ridiculous movies. Not here. She was in too deep to back out of the job now and compromise him further. She sighed and stood in front of the TV and crossed her arms. “Are you going to sulk all night? I’m sorry I snapped, I made a mistake leaving my gun behind and I panicked.” God she hated admitting she was wrong.

His jaw ached from biting his fucking tongue off. "I'm not sulking. I'm keeping my mouth shut so I don't regret my words. Worlds of difference."

“I’d prefer you were honest with me like we agreed.” Why, were you being honest with him MacKenzie? He didn’t reply, he cocked his head around her to get a view of the TV. For the love of stubborn males. “Fine.” She dropped her hands to her side and stormed out.

She stalked out of the room and he scrunched down into the couch. Knowing she was right and owning up to it were two entirely different things. He just needed a bit of mindless entertainment and the smell of ginger to clear the air before he did something stupid.

She strapped her holster back on before heading back to the deck, god knows she needed some fresh air before she also said things she regretted. If he wanted to play Sulky Sulkerson, then fine. He could have it his way. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the rail, she quickly opened them when the bushes moved and a twig snapped.

“Oh crap,” she whispered tucking them under her arm and reaching for her gun and ducked out of view. The crunching of leaves had her silent, they were still damn here. She peered out and caught sight of a kid dressed in baggy jeans, a dark t-shirt and cap slinking away from the house. “Hey! You!” She leapt up and pointed her gun in his direction.

The kid panicked and scrambled unsuccessfully, “get your ass back here now!” She hurdled the railing and landed dead on her feet before catching up with him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She yanked him back, dragging him to the ground and pinned him there.

Disgusted with the game, he turned off the TV, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. Christ, he needed to just suck it up and say he was sorry. He hated doing that man. Hated it more than a wax for fuck's sake.

He opened the back sliding door, "hey, Kenzie--" he cut off when he was met with an empty deck. "Kenzie?" he called out. Dusk had fallen and the light was grey with mist coming off the water.

Her head shot up as she twisted the guys arm behind his back immobilising him. With her other hand she pressed the cool steel of her gun against his neck. “Get back in the house now Jon.” She pulled tighter as he squirmed, “quiet asshole.”

Jon leaned over the railing, flinching when her gun glinted off the low light. "Shit." Jon backed off, closing the door with a snick of the locks. How in the blue hell had they found him here? He had one of the back houses for just this reason.

If he wanted everyone and their camera to find him, he'd have taken the house on the water. He punched the window, the quick zing of cold window pane making him feel better. Good fuck, she was out there alone with one of those guys. Did he have a partner? What the hell?

She quickly patted him down to find no evidence of a weapon, as she squeezed her knees tighter to hold him there. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” God, he was probably a fan.

“James Baker, my girl—girlfriend wanted his autograph. I swear, over there.” MacKenzie followed the line of his chin to where a small scribble pad and pen lay in the foliage.

“Fuck,” she released her grip still keeping her gun firmly on him. “Alright, well take your pen and paper and get off the property, now.” She stood and waited while he bumbled his way up, collected his pad and pen and scampered. She waited until he was out of her line of sight before she dropped her gun. Jesus fucking Christ. What next?

“Fucking hell," she muttered turning back towards the house dusting off her legs as she went. She knocked on the door. "Jon its ok, I just lost you a fan probably."

He slid the door open. "Tell me you didn't just say fan. Please?"

Just fucking great. He'd be on the news or even worse, the blogger sites by morning. What a clusterfuck of a day.

She blew her breath out and stood on the deck as she jammed the gun back into her pocket. "I'm sorry, he was trying to get an autograph for his girlfriend, I had to make sure that wasn’t a cover. It’d be an easy thing to lie about. What else was I supposed to think?”

He sighed, the anger melting out of him with the defeated look. "Well, maybe that will keep the stalkers at bay for a few days at the very least." His lip kicked up into a smirky grin. "There's something to be said for peace and quiet, even if it comes with your big ass gun."

“Christ, I just probably put the kid into depends.”

He slung his arm around her shoulders without thinking. "C'mon, Dirty Harry...let's see if we can find something to eat." He grinned down at her. "Or should I call you...what's that guy's name from the Bodyguard movie? Farmer? Christ, my wife made me watch that like a half dozen times."

“I’m much better than Farmer thank you very much.” They were ok, they were safe. It was over, for now. “Got any beer? I’d kill for one, and order pizza. Lot’s of it.” She shrugged when he looked at her with wide eyes. “I’ve got the gun.” She replied simply.

"Yeah, I suppose you do." She walked ahead and he watched her ass with the silver of the gun glint from the back of her waistband. The level of wrong there was astronomical. It should not be hot. Swallowing thickly, he caught up to her. "Tell me you didn't put anchovies on my pizza and we'll be fine."

“Ew, yeah no thanks.” Once the pizza arrived they migrated to the backyard and sank into the oversized chairs. She cracked off her beer top and took a long gulp. Thank god he was over his pissy-fit. “So who won the game?”

Grease and cheese burned his lip as he bit down too hard. "Uh...I don't know." He gave her a rueful smile. "I just didn't want to talk to you." He sighed. "I suppose I should get the apology out of the way. It was what I was coming outside to give you to be honest."

Her lips curved and she sucked in the loose cheese before she took a bite. “It’s ok, as I said, I panicked, I made a mistake and I took it out on you. I’m sorry too. It’s fine, really Jon.” She didn’t need the whole debrief of who did what, she wasn’t into that shit.

Thankful for the reprieve he sat back, folding his slice to bite around it. "We just dropped out of the honeymoon stage and had our first fight, honey."

She snorted as she lifted her beer, “guess we did. Pity you can’t take me up to bed for the good make-up sex.”

"Now that's my kind of woman." He reached for another slice. He just wished that were true...on all counts.

Chapter Nineteen

His thumbs brushed against her hipbones, the soft denim so familiar and yet different on her body. A dog yipped and gave a sharp bark as a pair of teenagers used a stray piece of driftwood as a bench to neck on. The breeze was warm off the water, even as the sand chilled beneath his feet. October near the inlets was often a lot milder than even September. A few boats still littered the waterways, reminding him how fast summer had faded.


The woman in his arms was a contradiction, much like the Northeast teaser of a summer day. He could feel the connection, the buzzing awareness between them when they were 'on' for working. When they were alone, she stepped back, making him wonder if he was imagining every nuance of the attraction between them. But here, when she didn't really have to play the girlfriend and slid so easily into the role, these were the times that confused him.

He shuffled her forward to the water. "You don't mind staying here tonight, do you?”

Her heels dug into cool sand as she pressed her body back against his. No she didn’t mind, yes she could have stayed out here forever with him. Her mind was a flutter, she didn’t like when that happened, and she was so used to thinking and shooting straight. Not being all twisted up like a pretzel.

The beach was calm as the waves gentled up onto the shore. Life for her until this moment had been way too busy and she missed the simple things like this. It had been a long time since a man stood behind her that could match her strength in both body and mind. She could probably still throw him to the ground and pin him but she’d have fun trying. This game, whatever they were playing was becoming too easy and confusing.

It wasn’t always a physical thing that attracted her to men, it was definitely a nice to have and Jon was very easy on the eyes. It was his mind, his way and his determination and drive that got her right down in the belly. She saw it in his eyes, the same determination that led her down the path she took, after Brian. “No, not at all. I have nothing that can’t wait.”

"I could use a day away from the city," he hissed as his toes met water. "Fucking cold," he muttered and started to back out.

She laughed as he tugged her with him, losing her footing she fell backwards into strong arms and hands. “Shit, sorry.”

"S'okay," he laughed. "I bet that water would be way colder on your ass." Hauling her up, he turned her into his arms. "But maybe you need a cool down."

His eyes sparkled like the water, and he couldn’t be trusted as his lips twitched. She arched a brow, they were barely inches apart as her gaze rested on his mouth. If she didn’t move she knew she would be taking advantage of this “acting.” The cool water pooled around her feet so she shifted her foot in an innocent flick splashing water up his calves. “Oops.”

Gripping her around the waist he lifted her. "Hey now!" When she went to kick again he clamped a hand around each arm and tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "You cannot be trusted, woman." He trudged back up toward the shell strewn sand.

She laughed and tried to twist her way out of it, she knew she could if she really had to, but not without inflicting damage to him. “Put me down now, or you want a new Soprano Record?”

Flattening his arm over her thighs, he held her tight to his shoulder. "Oh hell no." He trudged up the sand and dropped her onto her butt, his knees between her legs as she messed up his hair. Frowning down at her, he pushed it back. "Don't touch the hair, don't you know that's my pride and joy?"

"You have it insured though right?" She scooped up a handful of sand weighing it in her hand. Desperate to ignore him crouched in-between her.

His eyes dropped her mouth, then the sand. "Smart ass," he muttered. When she grinned up at him, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist to dump the sand. "I don't trust you," he said and leaned in. Her breath minty against his lips, he breathed her in. "Aww hell," he said and closed the distance.

She couldn’t deny how much she wanted him to kiss her, no matter how unnecessary it was given the situation. That mouth was dangerous and she bet it could do wonderful things to her body as she folded into the kiss. She felt the zing in her knees, her lips parted and she accepted his tongue. Mint and honey flooded her mouth as he drove the kiss deeper.

Jon straightened up, dragging her closer as the soft moan vibrated through him. Her neck arched as he cupped her face, dipping in for another taste. She tasted like sea spray and something darker, something he was becoming all too familiar with.
His thumbs traced her jaw line as his tongue tangled with hers. The little whimper at the back of her throat burned him as his belly tightened at their position. His back ached and his knees protested but he wasn't letting go.

Her control sifted away like sand in your hands, god help her and god damn her for wanting it this much. Her fingers drove up into soft hair and then down over strong shoulders, taut with muscle. She shifted closer, pressing her breasts into his chest. There was no space between them that could be measured, just red simmering hot heat.

Her hair slid around his hands, his wrists, his arms--the silk and the fire driving him higher as the winds picked up. Spray off the water coated his back as he drowned in her taste. As his back cooled, the heat between them flared. The kiss lengthened and he lost himself in her taste.

Her head jerked up as the pound of feet behind her had her on her knees with her arms out wide holding him back.

"Ken--" he broke off as she drilled back into him. "Dammit, Kenzie!" She stiffened in front of him, her arms outstretched to protect. The dog leaped and kicked up sand as she tried to get around Mac. Her bark was sharp as she whined. "Molly, its okay girl."

She dropped her arms, letting Molly lunge past her, proceeding to slobber all over Jon. She closed her eyes and puffed, close fucking call. Too fucking close. “Jesus Christ,” she swore as she stood dusting the sand off her legs. She jumped when her hip vibrated, god what next? A bird to swoop down on them? Hell. She cleared her message from David which ironically was warning her that they could be followed. Well shit, and her she was metres away from her fucking gun. “We need to move, now Jon.”

Jon pushed down on Molly's head as she tried to lick him. "Not the kisses I'm interested in, girl. C'mon," he laughed, "all right, all right. I missed you too." He waved to Molly's owners, slapping her rump. "Go on, girl. Back to George." He looked up at Mac. "What's going on?"

“We need to get back inside—“she hated admitting her mistakes, god did she ever. “My piece is in your bathroom. And that was David, just warning us to be careful with any stragglers.”

“You’re piece? Oh- tracking me out here?” He looked out on the horizon, a few couples that owned houses in the surrounding area dotted the beach. The wind that had felt so good before now held an ominous chill. "Are you sure?"

She scanned the immediate area quickly, a couple of teenagers and some older folk, she hadn’t really noticed them before which meant she wasn’t really paying attention. “Yes, I”m sure.” This wasn’t his fault it was hers, hers for yet again being sucked into this charade of whatever it was with them. She grabbed his arm and moved him behind her so the gap for the clear shot was obstructed.

Frowning at the back of her head, he stiffened. "What are you doing?"

She slipped her arm through his to put on her game face once again and shifted herself around him "Obstructing the shot.”

"The fuck you are," he growled. "I didn't see you put on fucking kevlar this morning."

“This morning was different Jon. You know this is my job now and you know there is a threat.”

"Using a sniper rifle is a far cry from running me over with a goddamn car, or a warning MacKenzie. I think you're over reacting.”

Her hands curled into fists, he knew how serious this was becoming so what the fuck was his problem. “Alright, so I don’t over-react and we get ten pounds of lead in our bodies. That ok?” She yanked his arm, “well?”

His jaw clenched as they stood nose to nose. "I got it," he growled. "You made your point." He pulled his arm away from her. "Do you want to plaster yourself around me to take a bullet?" He flung his arm out. "If we walk up the beach I could become a smashed cantaloupe from the back of the head too."

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. In case you’ve forgotten Jon. I was employed to be your bodyguard. Being all over you and crawling up you is MY JOB.” It all came spewing out and god if she could help herself now. “This was never going to be easy,” problem was, it had been far too easy.

His head snapped back as if she'd slapped him. "Well aren't you good at your job." He stood still, his fingers jammed into his pockets. "Lead on oh protector," he said cooly. "I wouldn't want to overstep. I, after all, am great at taking your cues."

She just wanted them back in the house and off this damn beach, where they were in the wide open. This hadn’t been a job half the time, and that’s where laid the problem. She was lucky to have the reality check now, and not when he got hurt. The sea air was thick as the tension that hung between them as they walked back to the house. Once there, she grabbed him and twisted him around. Her eyes stayed on his,

“It’s for the best Jon. I’m only doing it for you.”

"Right, it's just a job. I won't forget again, MacKenzie." He stepped back and inside. "I've got calls to make." He stopped, turning his head a fraction so he could see her peripherally. "If I'm allowed to do so," he said flatly.

The cool tone in his voice sliced through him like ice, and she pretended that it didn’t matter. It did matter, he mattered. On the inside she was ready to collapse but her body held the pressure. She had to push back, in public she’d be his girlfriend as promised, but at home she had to learn to draw the lines before they vanished. “I’m sorry.” She rested her hand on the battered doorframe as she watched him walk away without as much as another word.

Chapter Eighteen

MacKenzie forced her smile and clapped along with the crowd as Senator Hilary finished her address. She tugged the knot at the end of her coat and let it fall open. It was seasonably warm for October. They were in the Hamptons, taking Jon’s chopper early this morning to come down in time for the rally. Of course he had a chopper, and he had a boat too.

She glanced his way and smiled through her shaded lens, the late afternoon sun took the bite off the cool sea air that was whistling around the tent. She’d spent the night wading through her emails, none of which bore any information suggesting that the Bloods were targeting Jon further for any cause. Either that was a one off, or either they were being clever and covering their tracks well. She suspected it with the latter.

Jon was a perfect target for a social or now even political statement, the countless people he acquainted with surprised MacKenzie, and he was more than just the average rock-star. She’d met people he’d worked on his philanthropy projects, his football team and even co-property owners that publically, he was a “silent partner” to. His diary was booked out for months in advance and MacKenzie struggled how he remembered everybody’s name and their background as they mingled.

Jon linked his hand with hers easily, drawing her in until their walk settled, as it always did, into the same stride. From walking to running, she matched him, even lapped him to be truthful. She was easily the strongest female he'd ever had beside him. The tented area was filled to the brim with powerful women, but her strength put them all to shame.

Therein lay his problem, in all honesty. She was strong in every way. Strong enough to kiss his face off in a Beemer then walk away from him like it was no big thing. Strong enough to level him to the ground, but not want to be with him. She was also strong enough to sit across from him every fucking night in a pair of yoga pants and a tank top that was barely big enough for a 14 year old teen and small enough to make him nuts. Not a hint of the Kenzie that twined around him every blessed day.

Hell, she'd even joked with him that he should get a fucking girlfriend. Fuck me.

MacKenzie covered her mouth as she yawned. “God, sorry.” Lack of sleep and making sure she had every single thing covered off around this was the culprit. She’d approved extra surveillance security on his family that was to intervene if anything were to happen. “So, where to?”

"I need some time away from the fucking press, the goddamn democrats and the reporters," he whispered nearly tonelessly just in case there was a stray one of the three in earshot. "I say we head out to my house."


“You have a house here? You’re just full of surprises.” He led her away from the sea of people that started to spew out from the domain.

"Yeah, I got it a few years ago on a whim. I like the old style Cape Cod feel to some of the places near the water." He nodded to the driver of the day, one of her changes. He'd used the same damn driving company for ten years, but they couldn't pass the MacKenzie Profile of Bad Guys so, she'd handpicked just one more thing in his life. She'd be picking his fucking underwear next. He'd like to see her try that one.

She ducked into the car as he held the door open for her. “I used to spend many a summer with Mum and Dad up at the Cape in my youth. Always wanted a beach house one day, one of those big rambling styles with a wraparound porch. I just might be jealous of you now, if the Chopper hadn’t already sealed it,” she teased as he joined her.

"Well, honestly even I couldn't afford a house on the actual beach at the time. I can now," he said it matter of factly, "but I fell in love with my wraparound porch, so I'm staying." He climbed in behind her. "I didn't get out of Jersey much when I was a kid, but I did make it to the Cape a few times as a struggling musician. The boardwalk had nightly expos that we used to try to win."

“See, you have a wraparound porch, now I do hate you.” She shifted her weight wedging her foot in the floor but it slipped and she ended up across his lap. “Shit, sorry. Damn shoes,” she muttered straightening herself up, peeling her arm off his woollen blended Armani.

He pushed away the thick lock of dark hair that slid forward and settled her into him as they'd taken to riding in the car. The windows were tinted, but not enough that the cameras couldn't infiltrate the little oasis he usually enjoyed.

No...Whenever he was outside, he endured and hated himself for enjoying the way she fit him. He played with the collar of her shirt, tempted to drop lower into the crisscrossing v of the neckline to see just how it tucked into her high waisted pants. Instead, he dropped a quick kiss along her jaw line and sat back.

"Wait until you see the sunset," he said smugly.

“I do love a good sunset,” she sighed as she settled back, her gaze drifting out the window. It was small touches like that, that unsettled her most. Tender and genuine, mixed with the scent of him late in the day dashed with spice and leather. The same smell that seemed to follow her around in his apartment, no matter where she was. Those touches she knew came, not necessarily because they had to, and they were both guilty of them without admission.

The ride took little more than twenty minutes, but he was as conscious of her as if she'd been sitting on his damn lap the whole ride. The bottle of ginger scented lotion that sat on his bedside table taunted him nightly, especially since the bottle kept getting slowly lower and he'd yet to catch her slathering herself in it, but the scent stuck to everything in his room. And now the car was as bad as his towels.

When the car stopped, he stepped free and good breeding had him helping her out, even as he breathed in the sea salted air. Anything that wasn't her. Just for a second so he could get his raging hard on under control. Thank God for the longer style of his suit. Even with the pervasive heat that bounced off the faded sunny shingles and pristine whitewashed trim, he closed his suit jacket. She didn't need to know just how badly she affected him.

"Here it is, Casa Bongiovi, East Hampton."

She'd already started walking away, the pull of serenity and peace that was wrapped up in the vintage home called to her. She made sure Jon was following before she zig-zagged through the lush yard. Old wicker furniture was dotted around the place, the worn grooves in them bore many sunny days of relaxation and good company. She clamoured up the steps to the grandiose wraparound porch and breathed in the crisp air, this was paradise. As he climbed up the stairs to the porch she gripped the railing and smiled, "We have to come here more often--" She stopped. This wasn't her reality, it was for now but one day her job would be completed and this would all go away. Somewhere she wondered if she was sad because also he would, or his perks would. "I mean, while I'm working for you."

He watched as her hair lifted and fell on the light breeze coming in, the happiness and the wariness there that often warred on her pretty face. "Lots to see in politics out here, so that's not a stretch," he said easily. He held his hand out for her to head inside. "C'mon, I'm sure we can find something for you to change into. We'll head into town in the morning.”

“Perfect,” she took his lead and followed her inside, it was surprisingly homey.

Generous in size and classic, plush furniture lined the rooms. It was minded herself of her apartment, just a hell of a lot bigger. The big stone fireplace in the centre of the room, she imagined how dreamy in the winter it was to sit, tucked up and read a book next to it. She plucked a frame off one of the units, a framed picture of Jon being mauled by four kids for the best spot on his lap. “You miss them huh?”

He glanced at the picture over her shoulder, the smile automatic as he took the picture. "That was the last day of Summer Vacation, two years ago." He set it back on the crowded shelf. This house was the one he allowed to be less than picture perfect.

He was used to having people over at the mansion, but it was pretty much only family at the Hampton house. He went out to parties, more than held them here. "I tend to stash a lot of pictures here. The kids like to give them to me since they never know what to get me for birthdays and Christmases."

"They are adorable and so are you,” he was blonde and a few years younger. Not that he hadn’t retained his good looks well, it was quite the opposite. "Nothing wrong with that, family is important and is irreplaceable," she dragged her finger along the top of chest. "So you going to show me this beach?"

"Well let's get undressed--" at her quick look he cleared his throat. "We'll go take a walk, get some dinner over near the waterfront."

What the hell was she going to wear? Did his ex-wife still have clothes here?

He looked down at her. Her hips flared a bit, but she should be able to get into a pair of his old jeans. "Follow me," he said and headed up the stairs.

His bedroom was bright, on the sunny side of the house since he didn't mind mornings on the beach half as much as in the city. The massive whitewashed chest took up half the wall. He opened the bottom drawers, digging into the pile of jeans folded until he found some of his less boot cut pants lay. Pulling out an older battered pair for himself, he found a well worn pair for her as well. He unearthed a Nike shirt for himself, long-sleeved and grinned at the faded Giants jersey and tossed it over his shoulder. "Think you can manage to wear that?”

Her hands froze as she stared at the jersey. “Ah, yea...” It got a little less painful each time she saw one. God, she still had Brian’s old one tucked away in her back closest somewhere. It still smelt like him, and now this, smelt like Jon.
“Kenzie?”

“Sorry, nope this is good. I’ll go change.” She took the jeans and locked herself in the ensuite, and leaned hard against the door. Get a hold of yourself, this is different. You’re not in love with the guy. She stripped off and tugged on the jeans, they were snug but fit fine. She pulled the jersey over her head and stared at herself in the mirror for a good minute before shaking it off. “Fits,” she beamed as she walked back out.

He laughed, but it was a little strangled. The woman filled his jeans a helluva lot better than he did. Sweet fuck. "I don't know if I should be offended that a chick fits in my jeans or not," he said with a grin. Since he’d given her the jersey she’d been distracted, “are you ok?”

“Yea, just a little headache. I’ll take some ibuprofen and I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t think I can compete with the only man I’ve seen that fills out jeans better than any chick I know. Your fans must love it.”

"Yeah well," he frowned. How did he put this that it didn't sound like he was a complete ass? "It's part of the package. I work out so I can run all over that fucking stage, but hell..." he grinned. "Nothing wrong with being proud of your body--to a point."

She patted him on the shoulder, “nothing wrong with it all. Hell, after what we endure at the gym. I’d be asking for a refund if I didn’t have these kinds of results. Come on then,” she winked as she led him out the door.

Heading out the back steps once they got downstairs, he automatically sought out her hand as they picked their way down the winding path that led to the beach. The gardens and the walkways of the surrounding houses made an overgrown maze, but the beach quickly came into view. "There's my beach. It's a private beach for all of us in this area, not a public one, just for the owners and renters."

He flipped off his battered Tevas and held them in his free hand, letting the sand sift through his toes. The shells and muscles crunched underfoot, but he was used to the rough hewn beach, taking comfort in the imperfection in the midst of the lapping water. "It's more of an inlet this way so we don't really get waves to speak of, but the water remains swimmable, so that's a plus. Most of New York's waterways are beyond hope these days."

She followed suit and kicked off her sandals as he led her along the beach, she welcomed the salty air as it balanced her out again. She wasn’t in love with the guy, she was just overwhelmed, and he was an overwhelming guy. The tension between them hadn’t died, she’d just tried in vain to build bigger walls that not even her gun- Oh shit, she’d left it in the bathroom in its holster when she changed. Crap, maybe it’d be ok. They were on private land. Damn Mac, how could you been so damn stupid? “This is amazing Jon,” she clasped his hand tighter not knowing if it was a reflex or a need.

He laced their fingers in reflex to her tighter grip, he gathered her in front of him. The stray inhabitant to the beach gave him the option to touch her. He was getting so he wanted to touch her more than not. And as she leaned against him, he sighed. He'd take the moment. It was all he had.