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reminded her that their daughter was coming home from England and asked that she make arrangements to pick her up from the airport since he had been called to do an emergency angioplasty for a German diplomat. Claudia typed an acknowledgement then set the small device back on the faux-pine table.
    Richard placed his hand on the flat plane of her belly, allowing the shaft of his penis to press insistently against her taut thigh. “I need you,” he breathed into her sweet-smelling hair, and then took her mouth as his hand moved down between her legs. “I need this.”
    Claudia calculated the time she would need to get to National Airport and decided to take mercy on him. Sort of. She gently gripped his penis, and as always when his eagerness was so apparent, she felt the sensual spark of excitement in the simple acknowledgement of all that youthful exuberance so beautifully disciplined for her.
    She had not always liked younger men. Indeed, she had been shocked and flattered when Richard Mullinax approached her at a gala six months ago and introduced himself as the Deputy Director of the National Security Agency. The youngest official to ever hold the title, he told her with unmistakable self-satisfaction. His cockiness both grated and amused her.
    â€œHow old are you?” she’d asked bluntly, her candid gaze unflinching.
    â€œTwenty-seven.”
    She suppressed a teasing smirk and tried hard not to roll her eyes.
    â€œIs that too young for you?” he asked, equally blunt. His eyes liquidly dark, striking against his Chesapeake-tanned skin, seemed impossibly beautiful. Cherubic, except for the sexual energy that emanated from him like an irresistible cologne.
    Claudia felt her face flame. Her mouth felt dry so she lifted the drink to her parched lips. “No,” she replied and took a sip.
    The champagne made her unusually loose, willing to entertain a flirtation. But the alcohol could not be blamed for her willingness to be seduced. She saw them suddenly with a third person’s eyes: a powerful woman in her late forties and the young, tall man teasing her, getting away with it in the middle of a party where her husband stood only few feet away, chatting with the Secretary of the Interior. She knew then, with great certainty, what would happen. Saying no was never in the cards.
    She’d meant it to be a one-night stand, a quick, forgivable indiscretion. But what began as a secret summer fling had evolved to an all-encompassing sexual obsession.
    Richard’s position gave her confidence that the affair could go on for as long as they wanted it to. Politically, he was her equal.
    On January 21, she would take her oath of office in front of millions of people on the west steps of the US Capitol. Less than two weeks away. Thus, her position in the administration was not something she could afford to risk. She had worked many years to cultivate an All-American public image, Ms. American Professional and Family Woman and Mother. To succumb to a sex scandal—the most clichéd kind—with a man twenty years her junior would make her the laughingstock of the nation and destroy everything she had worked for. Her famous cardiologist husband, astronaut son, and Rhodes Scholar daughter would be humiliated. What would her children think of their mom having kinky sex with a man their own age? It was too awful to contemplate.
    Richard Mullinax had no desire to embarrass her by posting pictures of their trysts on the Internet or bragging to friends about their rendezvous. With his high-level job, he had as much to lose as she did if this thing went public.
    Claudia called the shots in this relationship because she did not want to fall into the same boring holding pattern she had with her husband, so she pushed for control. Her husband worked all the time, she felt neglected, and the world tasted like gravel when he was around. Richard added color and movement. And actual fun . She could not