Scandalous-nook (2 page)

She straightened away from the door. “What is it, Stephen? What aren’t you telling
me? Is it Jennifer?”

Dark lashes lowered dangerously over piercing blue eyes when she mentioned his sister.
“You see her more often than I do, Natasha. Why wouldn’t Jen be okay? Is she behaving
recklessly? Following bad examples?”

And there it was. Oh well. She supposed if he wasn’t going to press her up against
the wall and take her the way she wanted him to, a fight about his sister was the
next best thing. Another way to work out her frustrations.

“She was fine the last time I saw her. And believe me, Senator Finn, there are worse
examples for her to follow than mine. But this bit of theater is unnecessary and a
little late. Owen beat you to the lecture punch weeks ago.”

After a dinner conversation filled with the usual laughter and sexual innuendo, Stephen’s
brother had shocked her with the revelation that he knew all about the activities
Jen had begged Jeremy and Tasha to keep secret for months.

To say Owen had been upset was an understatement, though he’d seemed more put out
about their lie of omission than his sister’s new lifestyle. Jeremy had been just
as stunned as she was at the reveal, and Tasha felt for him. He hated keeping things
from Owen, but Jen’s secret hadn’t been his to tell. For that, he’d been thoroughly
punished by Owen after she went home.

Jeremy had told her about it the next day and Tasha had to give Owen points for creativity.
The man knew how to hand out a punishment.

If
he
was aware of what Jen had been up to, Stephen and Seamus probably knew as well. The
one thing the brothers always agreed on was the importance of protecting their baby
sister. Of course, being men, they’d gone about it all wrong. 

“I didn’t accept his tongue lashing and I won’t accept yours,” she informed him, though
to tell the truth she wouldn’t be opposed to a little tongue lashing from Stephen—in
the right setting. “But yes, I’m the evil temptress that took her to the club a few
months ago,
at her request
. I was at her side each time she went back, until she accused me of babysitting and
sent me away. I still have a couple of friends keep tabs on her when I’m not around,
the same way I would for anyone new to the lifestyle. But Jen’s twenty-five, Stephen—she’s
old enough to make her own choices and I’d say she’s earned the right to sow a few
wild oats.”

“Practiced that for a while, did you?”

“Maybe,” she shot back. “It doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

She didn’t mention her concern about the
amount
of oats Jennifer Finn was sowing because, honestly, who was she to judge? Lord knew
she’d followed her own passions wherever they led her for years without worrying about
the consequences. She’d used the club as a safe haven and an outlet for her frustrations
as much as she had for pleasure.

Still, Jennifer was moving fast. Too fast. Racing from one kink to the next as if
she had something to prove. As if she were looking desperately for something she couldn’t
find. A married couple had been wooing her for the last week or so, trying to persuade
her to be their third. The wife, who was well known at the club for her unexpected
mood swings and rough play, had been particularly demonstrative. It was a disaster
waiting to happen, and Tasha had thought about warning Jen to slow down, but considering
how obstinate the Finns could be, that might only encourage her.

Stephen’s mouth tightened and she couldn’t look away from his lips. She wanted to
kiss them. Suck on them the way she knew he liked. The way that made him lose control,
giving her what she needed.

“She’s old enough to know better,” he said flatly.

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Tasha scoffed. “Is Owen old enough? Last year you and Seamus
were worried he had a sex addiction, and I could tell you stories about him that would
curl the toes inside your expensive loafers, Sena—”

“Owen knows enough to keep his lifestyle choices out of the gossip column,” Stephen
bit out. “And to my knowledge, he’s never come as close as Jennifer has to being arrested
for indecent exposure.”

“Arrested?” Tasha felt a jolt of shock. “When?”

His expression was grim. “Two weeks ago. If our cousin James hadn’t been at the precinct,
and if he hadn’t been a friend of the guy who hauled her in…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence for Tasha to know what came next. Damn it, what
was Jen thinking? She’d never said a word. “He didn’t call your parents, did he?”

The last thing Shawn and Ellen Finn needed was a trip to the police station to pick
up their wayward princess. Between Ellen breaking her wrist on her sixtieth birthday
and discovering she had osteoporosis, and Shawn retiring earlier than he wanted to
due to his blood pressure issues, they had enough on their plates.

“No, thank God. He called Brady around the same time the man I had on her called me.
We were able to get her released before she was booked.”

Tasha froze. “The man you had... You have someone
following
your sister?”

He pointed one finger straight at her and she had the insane urge to snap it between
her teeth. “You just said you had friends watching her too.”

She whacked his hand down. “Point that thing somewhere else, honey. I said friends,
not spies. Paranoid much, Senator? Is Jeremy’s house bugged? Any cameras in the restrooms
at the pub? Do you have Seamus tailed to his PTA meetings? I hear they can get pretty
subversive.”

“I’m trying to keep her safe, damn it.” Stephen flexed his fingers and then ran his
hand through his thick chestnut hair. “I know better than anyone that she deserves
her privacy, but even you have to admit she hasn’t been herself for months.”

Tasha sighed, unable to deny it. Hadn’t she just been thinking the same thing?

“Seamus has already come close to firing her twice due to customer complaints,” he
continued. “He said when she shows up for work she has a bad attitude, bruises and
hickeys on her damn neck that do nothing to distract from her new tattoo.”

Ah, the tattoo. Jen had gotten a triskelion on the back of her neck to symbolize both
her Irish heritage and her new connection to BDSM. She was also planning a piercing
that none but her
very
close friends would be able to see, but Stephen probably didn’t want—and certainly
didn’t
need
—to know that much about his sister.

He shook his head, as if completely bewildered. “At first I thought Scott might be
back in the picture. That he was the one causing her erratic behavior. Maybe hurting
her. But then I realized where she was going and what she was doing, and I thought
it would be best to keep an eye on her.”

“You realized she was going to a club Owen and I both frequent, but you thought having
some stranger stalk her was a better idea than giving me a call?” Had he been that
intent on avoiding her?

He ignored her glare. “Somehow I got the feeling you wouldn’t approve of my concern.
But he’s not a stranger. He’s an old acquaintance who owes me a favor.”

“A favor?”

“A big one. And that girl needs a keeper if she’s going to insist on making one bad
decision after another. I trust Trick to protect her without stepping over the line.”

“Trick? What kind of name is that? Did he get that in jail?”

She’d been going out of her way to be a smartass, but Stephen responded with a nod,
surprising her. “Trick is the kind of name you give yourself when being
Tristan
makes you the target of the fist-happy thugs in Corrections. He’s a bit hard to know,
but he’s done his time and he’s good at his job.”

Tasha stared at him. Stephen had a man with a criminal background following his baby
sister, but he thought going to the club was a bad decision? That
her
lifestyle was a bad decision?

She crossed her arms defensively. “Jen likes how it feels, Stephen. She likes being
the focus of someone’s attention. There isn’t anything wrong with that.”

Stephen snorted. “Jennifer hasn’t lacked for attention since the day she was born.
She’s never lacked for anything.”

Except a direction.
They both knew it was true, but she wasn’t going to be the one to say it. Not when
she was in the middle of defending the girl.

“Don’t be thick,” she scolded severely. “You know what kind of attention I’m talking
about. Up until now, her only experience with sex and romance has been with a douchebag
who, by all accounts, only cared about getting himself off—which I imagine took all
of three minutes before he rolled over and fell asleep.”

Stephen’s flinch was satisfying.

“Poor baby,” she taunted. “If you didn’t want to think about your sister having sex,
you shouldn’t have followed her because that’s what she’s doing. Well, that and getting
tied up and whipped by experienced, well-vetted Doms.”

He looked like he was going to be ill and Tasha almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“She isn’t on drugs, Stephen. And other than that one close brush with the law, she
hasn’t committed any crimes. She may not be making the smartest decisions, but she’s
making them for herself instead of hiding from them, which is something you should
appreciate.”

“That doesn’t mean she—”

“She’s just satisfying her curiosity and a few healthy appetites,” Tasha said over
him. "If you got off your moral high horse for a minute you’d remember what it was
like to enjoy yourself. Experimenting with kink isn’t such a bad thing. You might
even like it. Two out of four Finns already do.”

“I remember enjoying myself,” he murmured. He was staring at her breasts again, making
it clear exactly what he was remembering. “As to the other… You want to test that
theory?”

Tasha’s arms dropped numbly to her sides. “Excuse me?”

The weight of Stephen’s hooded gaze was like the touch of a hand or the rough glide
of a tongue along her skin. She wanted him to touch her. Taste her. She definitely
had some appetites that were in need of satisfaction.

“Not as smooth a delivery as I planned. You’d think I didn’t communicate for a living.”
He ran his hands through his hair again, looking uncomfortable and mussed. It was
an oddly attractive change. “I’m not sure where to begin or how much I’m allowed to
tell you.”

“That sounds intriguing,” she said, trailing behind him as he walked to his desk.

“It isn’t.” He sat in his plush leather executive chair and gestured for her to have
a seat across the desk from him, but Tasha wandered toward the bookshelves along the
wall instead, pretending to study the titles.

Stephen sighed. “Look, Jen is a hot button topic right now, I won’t deny it. I’m her
brother, so of course I’m worried about her. But I didn’t bring you here to argue
about that.”

Could have fooled her. “Then why?”

“What I’m about to tell you, only a handful of people know. I’m trusting you to make
sure it stays that way.”

Tasha laughed and sent him a grin. She couldn’t help it. “Worried I might not be able
to keep a secret? Baby, you
do
know who you’re talking to, right? I’m the Finn vault. I’ve kept your sister’s secrets.
I’ve kept Owen’s. And Lord knows I’ve kept yours.”

Stephen smiled back at her, but his expression swiftly sobered. “It had to be said
before I officially asked for your help.”

He’d asked her here because he wanted her help with something? Something that didn’t
have to do with his sister? She turned toward him, lifted her fingers to her lips
and mimed turning a key in a lock.

“Good.” He lost focus for a moment, apparently gathering his thoughts before he spoke.
“Most of the time being a senator is like slogging through quicksand. When I was DA
life was easier. Now? The trial is never over, the jury is always out and I have more
press attention and paid vacation days than I know what to do with. But I might finally
have a real chance to do some good.”

“I feel your pain. Vacation days are the worst. Tell me more,” she said, wandering
back toward him.

He let her sarcasm slide. “It seems that in the process of doing my job, particularly
on the senatorial ethics committee, I’ve gained some attention. Recently, an opportunity
has arisen that would allow me to do something tangible. Something that, in the long
run, could have a positive impact on the way this state is run even after I’m out
of office.”

He gave her a significant look as she paused in front of his desk. “The only catch
is this isn’t a one-man job. I find myself in a situation for which your singular
skills are required if I’m to move forward.”

Oh, so formal and careful—the good senator could hardly have acted more suspiciously
if he’d tried. 

Tasha forced a smile. “My singular skills?”

Picking up the glass paperweight from his desk, she gave it a little toss before catching
it in one hand. “Well, since I can’t juggle, you must be talking about my
other
skills.”

He sighed. “Natasha—”

“Having issues with the minority vote, Senator?” she asked pointedly as she rubbed
her thumb over the shamrock etched into the smooth glass. Owen must have given this
to him. “Or would you like me to hold a fundraiser at the club you disapprove of?
I could make a banner, bake some cookies and give away free handcuffs. Fetishists
for Finn.”

The expression on Stephen’s face was reproachful. “The senate is in recess for the
next few weeks, and I’ve been invited to a gathering at a private residence with an
exclusive guest list. It’s been advertised as four days and three nights spent exchanging
policy ideas in a relaxing environment, away from the oppressive city heat. I’m told
bringing a companion would not be remiss. I’d like you to be that companion.”

Stunned, Tasha reached for the chair behind her and sat down before she fell down.

“Wait,” she said, blinking at him in disbelief. “You want me to come to a house party…as
your
date
?”