Her pussy convulsed, vibrating with a surge of such intense pleasure that she cried out from the sharp contractions.
Khalid blinked. Staring into her dazed expression he felt a punch of pure lust as the small orgasm rocketed through her from nothing more than his suggestion that he suck her clit.
Sweet heaven, what had he begun here? The innocence, the pure shocked delirium that filled her face at once humbled and terrified him.
He let his hand slide from her breast, down her stomach to the bare, wet mound of her pussy as she arched closer to him. He was a dead man if she was still innocent. He would expire there on the floor from both shock and regret.
She was twenty-seven years old. Surely to God she wasn't as innocent as she seemed. She couldn't be.
His fingers slid through slick feminine juices. The heat nearly scalded his fingers, the plump, tightly swollen nub of her clit drawing his attention as his fingertip glanced over it.
He needed to be inside her. His cock was pounding, demanding action. The need to fuck her was destroying him.
"Marty, we're home."
Khalid's gaze jerked from her face to the doorway as her father's voice sliced through the pleasure-dazed atmosphere of the room.
Hell, Mathews would fucking kill him. Jennings would drive a stake into his heart with a smile.
Before he could think, Marty jerked from him, her hands shaking. Her face flushed and filled with dazed confusion as she stared back at him and attempted to right the thin robe she wore.
"Marty?" Joe Mathews and Zach Jennings stepped into the room, and came to a hard, surprised stop.
There was no missing what they all knew had been going on. There was no mistaking the shock on Marty's face or the reddened rasp from the stubble of Khalid's beard against her neck.
Mathews took it all in, as did the other man. Eyes narrowed, they stared at Marty, then at Khalid.
"I'll just . . ." She swallowed tightly, panic filling her eyes now. "Shower." She nodded quickly. "I need to shower."
Like a teenager caught making out with her boyfriend, she turned and ran as Khalid watched her with amusement. The temptress, though still present in her gaze, fought to hide in the presence of her fathers.
While pushing his fingers through his hair, Khalid restrained the hard breath that would have escaped. He breathed in slowly, roughly, before crossing his arms over his chest and staring back at the two men with more arrogance than he felt at the moment.
That arrogance did little to affect the senator or the FBI director. Both men stared back at him in shock.
"I've lived the whole of her twenty-seven years and never had to catch her with a lover," Joe suddenly snarled, as he glared at Khalid. "I would appreciate never seeing it again, if you don't mind very much."
Khalid had to admit, he knew how she felt when she ran. He felt like a teenager caught with his hand in his girlfriend's pants, and damned if it wasn't awkward.
"I believe I could go the whole of the rest of my life and never have you walk in on such a thing again." Khalid cleared his throat uncomfortably.
Joe's outrage was a tangible thing as he stared at Khalid, but it was Zach's silence, the quiet, thoughtful look on his face that worried Khalid. Of the two, Zach was definitely the more dangerous.
Khalid refrained from giving in to the sense of discomfort that threatened to overcome him as Zach's look continued to pierce him with cool hazel eyes.
"Stay away from her unless you intend to do more than simply share her bed for a few nights," Zach finally stated, as he moved into the kitchen and over to the coffeepot. "She's not a toy to be played with, Khalid."
Khalid didn't miss the edge of steel in his voice.
"Of course she isn't. I realize that." He gave a sharp nod of his head.
He did understand. The world he was a part of existed on rules, rules that were not made to be broken, because of the very nature of the men involved.
Zach had given the ultimatum in front of a club witness. It didn't matter that the witness was also Marty's father or that he and Joe were both lovers with the same woman. Zach was Marty's godfather, equivalent to her father, and his wishes couldn't be discounted.
"Do you?" Zach turned back to him. "I've watched her obsession grow over the years where you're concerned, just as I've seen the way you watch her. But I also know you, son. You're not the forever kind. You're content to be no more than the other lover. That's not what she'll want from you. That's not what she needs."
"I understand, I need no lectures from you," Khalid bit out coolly, barely restraining his anger. "You may have caught us acting like teenagers, but that doesn't mean I'll be talked to as one."
"When you're caught acting that way in my house, with my daughter, then you can expect it," Zach informed him just as coolly. "Now stay the hell away from her unless you intend to force my hand in this. You don't want to do that."
Khalid stared back at the other man, assessed the degree of sincerity in his tone, and recognized the very serious warning he was being given.
And while he recognized the warning, he could have told the other man that it would be just as powerless against the hunger building between himself and Marty.
Instead, with a sharp nod, he strode from the room, then from the house. It was a warning he couldn't ignore, he told himself, as his driver, Abdul, opened the limo door and he slid inside. A warning he shouldn't discount. He wouldn't until he came against the fiery need in her gaze once again. And it was likely a decision he would pay for.
Zach wasn't just a member of the very exclusive club they both belonged to; he was also a part of the judicial committee that governed it and one of the most powerful members sitting on that panel.
The rules to their lives were simple, straightforward. They had to be for the club to have survived the past two centuries.
Until now, though, Khalid had never found them restrictive. Until now, he had never regretted them.
Chapter 2
Marty escaped Zach's home, as well as her fathers' presence, without the lecture she had been expecting. Actually, she had managed to escape without so much as a fatherly talk. That one surprised her more than she wanted to admit.
Her fathers had never been shy when it came to discussing any aspect of life with her, claiming that they would prefer her to be prepared than to see her regret any actions she might take.
Khalid had already left. She had been disappointed that he wasn't there when she came back from her shower. Disappointed that the adventure in the kitchen had come to an end so soon.
Her lips quirked in a smile as she drove from Zach's home and headed to the heart of downtown Alexandria.
Kissing Khalid was more than an adventure, she thought. It had been a headlong flight into such the sensual core of pleasure that she would never have been able to pull herself free if he hadn't released her.
She licked her lips and remembered the feel of his. At first gentle, exploring and relishing, before becoming hungry, before consuming her with sensations she hadn't expected.
Damn. She wasn't going to survive the hunger raging through her. At this rate, she would burn to a crisp.
Making the turn into the downtown area, Marty directed the car to the restaurant and nightclub that she and several friends had agreed on for a nice little girls' night out.
Alyssa Stanhope had been a friend since childhood. She had always envied the other woman for her naturally streaked, blond hair, and soft, light blue eyes. For years, Marty had thought that Alyssa's life must be perfect, because of her tall, statuesque good looks. The truth was quite the opposite. Her father was a long-standing member of the U.S. Senate and an acquaintance of the Mathewses that they never socialized with because of Senator Stanhope's often cruel approach to his daughter.
Courtney Sinclair was Spanish, beautiful, and the wife of the owner of the exclusive, secretive establishment known merely as "the club." An establishment Marty had tried to investigate once. Her father had put a stop to that faster than she could blink.
She grinned at that thought. Her father and godfather, both of whom she had called Father, or Dad, on any given occasion, were members of that club. Men who shared their lovers or their wives. Men gathered together to protect themselves, their families, and their own reputations. It was an interesting concept, she had to admit. From what little she had learned over the years, the concept was one that had kept many high-standing social, as well as political, members out of the hot seat when it came to their personal and even their business lives.
Alyssa and Courtney had an odd relationship. They argued like enemies but seemed to stick together like sisters. As different as night from day, the two women had still managed to find common ground.
While making her way from the parking lot to the restaurant, Marty glimpsed Khalid's limo from the corner of her eye. His driver and bodyguard, Abdul, threw his hand up as he cast her a huge grin.
As she moved toward him, she smiled cheekily, knowing he would have something to say about the short skirt, snug top, and high heels she wore. Not to mention the makeup.
And she was right. He was now scowling as she walked toward him, his dark brown gaze filled with amusement and chastisement.
"So much beauty should never be displayed so indiscriminately," he sighed, as she approached him. "It should be saved for the husband who would better appreciate it."
"Give it a rest, Abbie." She laughed, as he flushed from the nickname. "How are you doing?"
She accepted a gentle kiss on her cheek before moving back.
"I am doing well, very well," he stated, with a sharp nod of his head. "The master, he is rather pissed with the world." He grinned back at her mockingly. "Have you been following him again?"
"Oh, so it's my fault he's in a bad mood?" She gave a light laugh. At least she wasn't the only one affected by the afternoon's adventure. "Trust me, Abdul, Khalid and a bad mood go hand in hand."
Abdul gave a heavy sigh, now staring at her with sad eyes, his weathered face creased into lines of concern. "I worry for him."
"Well, don't." She patted his shoulder as she moved by him. "Trust me, Khalid takes care of himself very well. We both know that one by now."
He took care of himself so well that he was one of her father's deepest undercover agents. Khalid managed to get information no one else could access, and infiltrated groups that no other agent could hope to slip into alive.
Striding along the cement walk to the entrance of the nightclub and restaurant, Marty threw an appreciative smile at the large doorman as he opened the door for her with a flourish.
Entering the building, she took the left hall and moved along the rounded wall quickly to the hostess's station and the smiling blonde standing in attendance.
"Ms. Mathews, it's so good to see you back." The hostess gave her a wide, toothy smile. "If you'll come with me, your party is waiting."
Her party wasn't waiting where they had promised they would be, in the restaurant itself. They were sitting instead inside a private balcony that looked out over the dance floor of the nightclub.
Courtney was staring over the balcony rail with a frown, her long brown hair cascading over her shoulder and the dark wood and brass rail, while Alyssa sat along the side of the wall, watching the other woman, also with a frown.
Alyssa tended to sit in corners, to hide, whenever she was in public. There were too many wagging tongues that were too eager to run to her father with the news of where she was and who she was with. And often, they were complete lies.
"Is she drunk yet?" Marty asked the other woman, as Courtney tried to find an angle that would allow her to see better. Though what she was trying to see, Marty couldn't decide.
"Not yet." Alyssa sighed, a small attempt at a smile tugging at her lips as she picked up her drink and took a long sip. "Give her time, though. She's pissed at Ian."