The Committee Read Online Free PDF Page A

manager. Sheridan’s chiseled frame and devastatingly good looks were the perfect backdrop for Camille’s campaign. His presence took the edge off her raw, sensuous power and made her a less-threatening woman for the cameras and skeptical voters.
    They were the ultimate power couple—glamorous, beautiful, wealthy, and ruthlessly ambitious. No one dared cross them for fear of losing lucrative city contracts or being banished to political and social exile. No party in the city was worth attending unless they were there. No fundraiser was considered a success if the Hardaways were not present. If the Hardaways sent their regrets, every high-end event planner in the city knew they must immediately change the date to accommodate their schedules.
    â€œBe honest now. Tell me what you really thought.”
    Sheridan turned off his telephone. The only light in the car came from the pad in Camille’s lap and the filtered headlights from cars approaching from the opposite direction. Sheridan tossed his cell phone onto the seat and moved in closer.
    â€œYou were magnificent,” he said as he moved his lips to hers. “I love you,” he said, punctuating each word with a kiss—“more now than ever before.”
    The most powerful woman in the city could never resist Sheridan’s touch. His warm breath on her neck sent a shiver down one side of her body and back up the other. Her lips quivered as he kissed circles around her open, breathless mouth.
    â€œThe driver . . .” she warned weakly.
    â€œ. . . can’t see a thing.”
    â€œWe’re almost home. Wait just a few . . .” Her words trailed into a whisper, then a sigh and faded to a sensuous moan. “. . . minutes,” was her last breathless word.
    Sheridan’s powerful hand massaged her trembling thighs and slowly separated them. Camille made a vain attempt at resistance, but the gentle force of his hand coupled with her desire for the pleasure to come made resistance impossible.
    The pampered skin of his palm caused her head to spin as it slowly moved up her leg, stopping intermittently at just the right spots to tickle and tease her tender flesh. Sheridan made it his life’s mission to learn every inch of her body. He studied her like a map and in record time identified every point capable of causing her to shudder and moan in pleasure. She was helpless under his touch. Total submission was her only option.
    She felt the warmth of his fingers between her legs. He now held her in the palm of his hand and could manipulate her to do and say whatever he desired. She gasped when his fingers slide beneath the moist silk of her La Perla panties.
    The mayor held his hand firm to show a semblance of resistance, but when he pressed the tip of his finger inside, she shuddered and silently prayed he would continue. Sheridan knew she wanted more when he felt her hips gently gyrating on his hand. His head began the slow descent down her body, caressing and kissing her breasts, but leaving her blouse buttoned and white ruffles unruffled.
    She anticipated where his lips would land through the haze slowly enveloping her. The euphoria of the State of the City address was a distant memory. Lust and passion replaced power and prestige. All she could feel was the weight of his head sliding down her body. His intoxicating musk filled her nostrils, and the sound of his lips kissing their way up her thighs was like the melodic strumming of a violin in the hands of a virtuoso.
    â€œBaby, stop,” she pleaded as he slid her panties to the floor of the limousine. “Honey, we’re . . . We’re almost home,” she weakly protested as his lips tasted the first drop of her sweet essence.
    Camille slowly slid sideways and lowered her back onto the Corinthian leather. The fabric of her Yves St. Laurent skirt formed a puddle at her waist as Sheridan’s head rested between the mayor’s legs. The magic carpet ride took