Party Games (45 page)

“No, I’m too tired for that sort of lifestyle and too busy, not that my love life is any of your business.”  He meant every word but his tone was more playful than he intended.

“Shame your bedroom skills aren’t put to good use.  The bar is now set very high for me.”  The risotto was simmering, steam billowing upwards and drifting under the cupboards.  Sex had been their saving grace until their fragile emotional attachment began to diminish.  Action had been far less destructive than words. Jenny was near to him, stepping closer, working her magic, her body language open and suggestive.

“Look at you – you seem, I don’t know,
cleaner,
somehow.”  She studied him closely.

“Well I have just had a shower.”  Rodney quipped. 

“No I don’t mean that, they’ve done things to you, changed your appearance somehow.  You’re completely…unblemished.”

Rodney was unsure whether Jenny was paying him a compliment or gently mocking him.  He knew he should frog-march her to the door and slam it in her face, telling her to go back to her new friends in Government he was sure she secretly despised, but instead he hung back.

            “Your hair’s darker, your teeth are whiter and I’ll eat my hat if you haven’t been exfoliating to get skin like that.”  Jenny cast him a wry smile and reached up.  As the tips of her fingers came to rest on his cheek he grabbed her hand, just firm enough to send her a message. 
Not yet
.  Their hands hovered, his holding hers, the heat from her fingers sensual against his palm.  He remembered Anthea, out on the Terrace, her smooth lips locked with his...

            “You’re still bloody good looking though, Rodders.”  Jenny whispered, her lips as scarlet as her skirt.  “You didn’t really need all that ‘polishing up’, shame your lot can’t leave a good thing alone.”

            “Yes, it’s amazing what conceited capitalist scum can ruin.”  Rodney wasn’t about to let Jenny out-do him with her sarcasm.  She returned to the food, adding more liquid to the pan and settling herself into his home as if they had never separated, as if she hadn’t bad-mouthed him in the press and betrayed his trust.

            “Look I’m not totally against everything your party represents you know, but Cornish devolution’s a bit of an impotent subject to get all hot and bothered over, although Blondie saved your bacon as usual tonight.  Talking of bacon, throw that lot into the pan will you?”

Rodney’s mind was awash with thoughts, attempted comparisons between Jenny and Anthea, but they were few and far between.  Jenny was nothing but selfish carnal desire.  Maybe such longing was how it had started between Anthea and Tristan; a meal, a glass or two of wine while he cursed his dismissal, two people on the edge finally submitting to temptation. Jenny wafted a plate of hot risotto under his nose.

“Apart from work, Blondie’s still the only other thing you think about.”  She observed, grinning.  She placed two plates on the table and poured herself a generous glass of Rodney’s Chardonnay.  “And yes you really are that transparent, even for a politician.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever known what I’m thinking, that’s been half the trouble between us.”  Rodney began to eat, feeling Jenny’s heavy gaze on him from across the table. She popped a fork-full of risotto into her mouth and began to chew slowly.

“Are you
sure
you haven’t got her into bed yet?”

“Well I’d probably notice if I had.  And
her
name’s Anthea.”  Rodney said smoothly.  “This is delicious, by the way.  I miss your cooking.”

“Jeez, she’s a stubborn one.”  Jenny smiled coquettishly, her eyes wide and flirtatious.  “Thought she might have given in once I was off the scene just to stop that puppy-dog look you give her and let you get it out of your system.  I just reckon even though she’s deluding herself that she doesn’t want you, she doesn’t want anyone else to have you, either.  She was always just jealous of me. Was she pissed you didn’t give her a better job in the reshuffle?”

“Tell me about these two
acquaintances
of yours in the Labour Party.  No names, of course, I’m just intrigued.  Don’t I make you tarnished goods?”  Rodney felt no longer required to answer her questions about Anthea, but the sudden change in subject seemed to amuse Jenny, a twinkle in her striking gaze as she crossed her sleek legs.   Rodney was digging gently, taking advantage of her strangely relaxed nature. 

            “I think that the judgement of one of them has been shown to be...questionable recently.” Jenny twirled her fork in her food.  “If the Cornwall disaster hadn’t got rid of Harvey…”

 “You’re not serious, God Jenny!”

“Haha, look at you, bloody hell Rodney I’m pulling your leg!  I like to think I’ve got some taste!” Jenny laughed, throwing her head back, exposing her slender throat.

She was here for a reason – someone to share a meal with, companionship or something more, and Rodney he knew he had to be careful.  Maybe she felt guilty enough not to breathe another word about his thoughts, but it wasn’t a risk he was about to take.

“So, did you just write everything down I said?”  Rodney chanced, turning his charm up a notch.

Jenny pouted.  “Some things, but I didn’t have a plan for it.  Look, I don’t want to get back with you, Rodney.”  She said flatly, as if he had declared undying love.  “Nobody needs another Arnold-Murphy situation on their hands.”

“
You
came to
me
tonight, not the other way round, and I’m not about to suggest we elope either!  I think it’s best if you leave when you’ve finished, if the press find out…” 

Jenny cut Rodney off at his suggestion.  “Nobody will know I’m here unless you or one of your men downstairs tell them, although I wouldn’t put it past Robert to have bugged the place.  How is he these days, still a serious bastard?”

He was about to respond that in fact Robert had found a new playmate but decided better of it.  Jenny was already talking about herself again, she never did wait for answers.

“I bet Anthea hates me now.”  She said coolly, her gaze catching Rodney’s.

He shrugged.  “Can you blame her?”

“Do
you
hate me now?”  It was the most meaningful question Jenny had asked him all night, and for the first time he saw her vulnerability, her desperation to be liked; to be loved.  She spoke her mind, was a temperamental personality, but Jennifer Lambert’s biggest weakness was the need to have people around her. 

“I just don’t understand why you’re here, why now, just when Colin’s about to bring everything crashing down…”

Rodney’s mobile began to ring out shrilly.  It was Deborah, even though it was now midnight, and he knew she would be cross.

“Don’t worry, I won’t listen in.”  Jenny said with a smile.  For a moment Rodney wondered if she was about to suddenly leave, a conflict of emotions rising at the thought, but instead she stayed seated.  Rodney answered Deborah’s call and took the phone into the bedroom, armed with documents he certainly didn’t wish Jenny to snoop through. 

Twenty minutes later, the Leader was still in deep in conversation with his Chief of Staff, talking through his resignation.  She had been against it at first, but his determination to see it through had worn her down.  It was the best way.

 “Colin’s team has gone berserk tonight with briefing but no leaking yet of his resignation letter.  I think Clare’s phoning you at 6am but, your interview with McDermott aside, I think the
Bulletin’s
allegiance is firmly in Colin’s bag.”  Deborah said.

 “He won’t get bloody chance to resign.”  Rodney said gruffly, but sat bolt upright on the bed as the door handle turned.  Jenny put her finger to her lips and crept in as Deborah continued.  His answers suddenly turned short and non-committal, but Deborah sounded too tired to notice as she began to talk about policy announcements and the need to get them trickled out throughout the campaign. 

Jenny stretched out before him on the bed, resting her head on her hand.   Rodney felt desperately tired, his incentive to talk to Deborah fading rapidly.  The woman needed her sleep if she was to function affectively and he told her as much.  A mild quiver entered his voice as Jenny toyed with the buttons on his shirt before unfastening them slowly, one by one. 
Doesn’t she realise how serious my situation is? 
Rodney thought, but his anger was directed more at himself, at his own bloody weakness for this woman when it wasn’t her he loved or wanted in his bed on that bitter November night. 

Fireworks still exploded faintly in the distance, flouting the late-night ban.  Jenny’s lips touched his chest in faint kisses and her hands were everywhere, pushing the shirt down off his arms and nails grazing his shoulders, but his never-ending conversation with Deborah continued, becoming weaker along with his will.  Jenny kneeled up over him, like in his fantasy of Rosie and Anthea, her legs apart, her skirt gathered to her waist.  She smiled down at him triumphantly.

“I’d better get some sleep.”  Rodney murmured as his body began to react to the attention.  “Do as you’re told and get some too, busy times ahead I think.”

Deborah agreed and seconds later they hung up.  Jenny snatched the phone from Rodney’s hot grasp and thumped it down on top of the policy documents strewn across the bedroom floor.  The anticipation of her made him light-headed while he watched, helplessly, as she unzipped him, tugging off his trousers, leaving him naked, vulnerable.  She stood on the bed, slowly, seductively, undressing until she revealed her red lace underwear, complimented by silky black hold-ups.

 “You don’t give up, do you?”  Rodney said.

“You know me, Rodders, I
never
give up when I want something, and tonight I want
you
.  You’ve not had sex for fifteen months, or so you say.  A fit guy like you must be ready to expire.”  She ran a scarlet nail along her bottom lip, her dark eyes drawing him in, enchanting him.  “Now touch me.”

For a second Rodney hesitated.  He should order her out, curse at her, deny her anything from him ever again, yet he did not.  The sudden kisses he was placing across her stomach as she knelt up before him, his fingertips exploring the lace of her hold-ups, her thong, the feel of her bare skin on his face, his chest, the taste of the perspiration between her perfectly cupped  breasts, was too much to resist.  Rodney saw her highly glossed painted nails in the semi-darkness as they grazed his biceps.  Red. 
Labour
.  A whole new meaning to being screwed by the enemy.  He felt no better than Arnold, but for the first time he could understand.  Not the cheating, the lying to his wife, but just knowing it was wrong made it utterly irresistible.

Jenny smiled, falling backwards and raising her leg so her toes brushed his lips.  “Take these damn uncomfortable stockings off, would you? I want it like it used to be, but this time I will be gone without any arguing between us.  This will just be our secret, private little pleasure.”

“Or
your
pleasure? Gracing your new desk at Labour HQ having shagged the Leader of the Opposition, the man whose guts you’re now supposed to hate?”  Rodney was half teasing, half accusing.  The woman who had once shared his life, now merely his illicit one-night stand, laughed softly, her mouth full and parted in desire as Rodney peeled off her hold-ups one by one, kissing her toes, drifting keen fingers along her thighs, the backs of her knees, feeling the contours of her calves, each curve waxed within an inch of its life.  He could see the smooth flesh through the thin lace of her thong and he reached out, tugging it to one side while pulling her down underneath him, his hand immersing itself in the evidence of her arousal.  Jenny gasped and arched her back at his touch, eliciting a soft “oh, yes” as their lips met suddenly, desperately, both deciding there had been enough talking.  Rodney wasn’t to think of Anthea or the leadership election, he was to concentrate on Jenny alone.  Her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he caressed her rhythmically, Rodney’s lips delicately pinching an exposed nipple, as moments later she enjoyed the intense gratification only a skilled lover could produce.  He smiled salaciously and sucked a finger. Unwittingly, Rodney had succeeded with ease where her last bed mate, two nights previously, had failed miserably.

 Although Rodney could never forgive her vindictiveness, as she went down on him, placing soft kisses across his tight abdomen, her mouth and hands encouraging his interest, he could convince himself for a few precious hours that all could be in the past. Jenny remembered well enough what pleased him.

“You’re technique’s incredible.  God, I’ve missed you.”  Rodney murmured as she kissed her way back up his body.

“I won’t deny I haven’t had practice since we split.  I thought you might have been a bit rusty, but fuck no.”  She laughed softly but gave a playful yelp as he forced her onto her back and pinned down her arms.  Hot oral clinches of carnal hunger danced between them, Rodney teasing off Jenny’s thong with one hand while the other unhooking her bra with ease.  Her hands drove roughly through his hair then down his neck to feel the ripple of his shoulder blades, all the while her legs urging him down, craving him.  A confused thought flickered through Rodney’s mind, their kisses while deep lacking the poignancy of that one he had experienced, on the Terrace, her blonde hair touching his cool cheeks and her lips locked against his…

Shaking the memory he explored Jenny’s breasts with his mouth. 
This was just sex, urges fulfilled and loneliness put on hold, nothing more
. 

 “I haven’t got…got a, err, you know, protection.”  Rodney whispered in sudden awkwardness. 

Jenny shook her head, her skin flushed. “Doesn’t matter.”  She panted.  “Not at risk, I’m sure.  Still on the pill.”

It was foolish of him, he knew it.  He didn’t trust Jenny and felt like an irresponsible teenager, but he couldn’t wait any longer as her seduction took hold.  She writhed beneath him, welcoming him, urging him, her hands and legs guiding him and her voice calling his name.  She was inside his mind and he was inside her body as once again he gave way to that spell which he thought had been broken all those months ago.