Taken from Ch. 04
". . .I am currently between lovers," she answered and made sure no one but her husband heard her. She laughed for the crowd and stuck out her tongue in hopes all thought her dashing love had teased her unmercifully.
His brow rose and he smirked. "Then may I steer you toward one?" he chuckled at her low throaty growl of "bastard."
"I'm quite good at finding my own fuck toy," she hissed and denied the pain that washed over her as she thought of him pimping her out.
The music ended and Brad gallantly led her to California's Senator Meeks, a known womanizer to those that knew him well, and one of the most sought after Bachelor's. "Craig, I must leave the ball early, would you be so kind as to take care of my wife?"
**********
Savannah slid her body off the rock, hard frame of the man she had been pimped too. She smiled at his lustful growl when his hand spanked her ass. She winked, then scurried to the bathroom to relieve herself. Her hips swayed wantonly and her breasts bounced with each step. Once inside the bathroom, the door closed and locked securely behind her, she slipped to the floor and covered her face. Her tears fell, but she refused to sob out loud. The pain in her gut was real and she fought back the bile in her throat as she thought of the man she'd fucked, simply because he was available.
Eventually, she stood up and used the commode, washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at her watch and sighed. Time hadn't stopped just because she was fucking and she knew she had to get back to the hotel. The girls would be there and though Brad was out screwing another boy toy, he too would expect her to be at his side when they all walked out of the hotel lobby. She took a deep breath and stared at her reflection. "He's just another cock," she whispered and plastered a million-dollar smile on her face.
Opening the door, she was rewarded with a soft snore. Her lips rose in a smirk and she shook her head. "Why does that not surprise me?" she asked herself, her words a whisper for the air to absorb.
She set about picking up her stockings, rolling them up and shoving them into her purse. Quickly she pulled on her gown and zipped the side as best she could. Her gaze fell on the phone and she thought of calling for security, but decided against it. Slipping her shoes on she darted out the Senator's hotel room and down the hall. The elevator chimed and she stepped in, smiling warmly at the young couple that was exiting. It stopped a few floors down and a man nodded a greeting to her. She smiled back and then watched him turn toward her.
"Scholastic right?" he asked.
Savannah chewed on her lower lip and nodded her head. The idea that someone knew her didn't bother her. The fact that she was in a hotel without her family did.
"No need to answer. I can see it written on your face. Lovely to meet you," he said, extending his hand in greeting.
"And you are?" she asked, looking down on his offered hand and raising a brow.
"Mitch Waters, no one important. Just a man staying in Vegas."
She reached out and took his hand. The grip he had was firm and commanding; he released her after holding her delicate fingers in a longer-than-necessary hold. When he did let her go, Savannah felt a rush of heat that she hadn't expected or experienced in some time. Her gaze shifted back to the lights on the elevator and then back to Mitch. "You're not staying here, are you?" he asked.
Savannah shifted back and forth on her heeled feet. "No," she whispered and pleaded for the high rise elevator to fall faster.
"I'll not say a word. . .on one condition."
She turned and was ready to baulk when she looked into his eyes and her heart fluttered. "And that is?" she asked.
"One drink," he told her and felt the car jerk. Another couple got in and he moved closer to her, shielding her from their view. He pressed her to the corner and let his hands rest on her hips.
"Do you mind?" she whispered, feeling her breath catch in her throat.
"Not at all. I can move and let others recognize you," he told her and began to step back. Her hands reached up and she grabbed his shirt, hauling him back to him.
"Stay put," she hissed.
"Excuse me?" he said, this time lifting his brow and staring down on her.
"Please," she whispered and felt him relax and press deeper to her. She whimpered and then blushed as he chuckled at the sound she'd made. Savannah mentally kicked herself at her behavior and the reaction she was having.
"The drink?" he asked, this time leaning in and whispering to her as his hands held her hips against him.
"I can't. I don't know you," she answered back, her voice barely audible.
"You can and you will. I'd hate to have to report to the media that a possible First Lady was in a hotel that her family wasn't. . .and it was two in the morning." He pressed his lips to her neck and whispered, "Just a drink Missus Scholastic."