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Julia could feel one of the veins in David’s neck pulsating as she leaned against him. She hadn’t intended for this to happen. She really had meant it when she told him it couldn’t happen again. It wasn’t just a bad idea for her personally, she hadn’t been blind to the anger mixed in with the desire in his eyes as he’d stepped into her room, but it could potentially take a wrecking ball to her career. A PPO accusing her of fucking him didn’t even needed to be based on facts to destroy everything she’d built. If the press even smelled a notion it could be close to the truth, it was over. This had the added effect of actually being true. Twice now. Shit.
He was still buried inside her as he drew deep breaths, and she could see beads of sweat on his forehead. She caught herself wondering what he was thinking. Was this his plan all along? When he’d confronted her about her statement to Andrew Marr, had he been so mad at her response that he’d decided to seduce her, so he could go to the press and destroy her? Was he just biding time until she was weak enough that he could manipulate her into revealing state secrets, reveal that she was a traitor as well as desperate for male attention? No. Being a politician made you paranoid, and there were enough real conspiracies around her already. And there were lots of things she felt unsure about when it came to David Budd, but in all their interactions thus far, if anything, he’d seemed painfully honest. And the way his lips softly pressed against her skin, trailing up and down on her neck, didn’t seem anything like the monster her fear had momentarily tried to portray him as.
Eventually, her breathing calmed, as did his, and he pulled back to look at her. She was surprised to see the flirty look in his eyes. They had looked so intense earlier, but now the darkness of passion was replaced with a glint of lightness and the hint of a smile on his face. She smiled sheepishly and he leaned in to kiss her. She cupped his face between her hands as he looked down at her upper body. She wore the marks he’d left on her, but little else. Though they were different marks than the ones she’d felt on his back after his vest had landed on the floor. She made a mental note to ask him about them when the moment presented itself.
She felt strong arms lift her off the desk and wrapped her arms around his neck by instinct, curious as to his next move. She was still surprised that she trusted him so much. It wasn’t like her at all. The feeling of him, half limp but growing again inside her as he walked was too much, and her lips crashed down on his with a vengeance. Unexpectedly, her naked back met the cold wood of the wall, as he steadied her in his arms. She tried to help by pulling herself up, but the sensations of it all were overwhelming.
“Too heavy for you, Sergeant?”
“No. Light as a feather.” His lips met hers again, a warm tongue fought with hers for dominance before he pulled away breathlessly. “A bed this time, my legs can’t take standing up for much longer.”
The rush of anticipation and desire pushed away any rational thought, and before she’d thought it through, she heard herself panting as his eyes locked with hers. “Yours is closer.”
“Ma’am.” She squealed in surprise as he stalked over the threshold to his own hotel room, none of the tenderness from the first night in him at all as he pushed her down onto the perfectly made bed. He stood by the side of the bed for a few moments, looking down at her, breathing heavily as his eyes roamed over her. His body was sculpted to absolute perfection. A result of the army and police training, she assumed. She half sat up, resting her weight on her elbows as he quickly pulled off the last remaining clothing she had on, throwing the knickers to the floor. As she memorized every trace of every muscle, he moved over her, attacking her neck and pushing her arms over her head, held them against the bed.
Not any less passionate than their last encounter, but he seemed far less aggressive as he bucked against her. She felt filled to the core. The more aggressive, rushed strokes from earlier replaced by longer ones. He took his time while she egged him on with words, nibbling on his lip until he withdrew with a gasp and pushed against her harder. She loved the way their bodies moved together, the way he seemed to enjoy and take pleasure from her body as much as she did from his. Found herself appreciating the way he could handle her, unlike some of the men she’d been involved with. He didn’t seem scared of her power, but on the contrary, rather turned on by it. If not slightly annoyed at the consequences it had held for him. Still, so far he hadn’t shied away whenever she’d hold his gaze, and the same remained true during sex. When she bit her lip, he unconsciously did the same. When she gasped and threw her head back as he pushed deeper, he used it as an opportunity to lick the skin on her neck. Whatever she did, he had no trouble keeping up. Sex with him didn’t feel like a contest. It was more like an Argentinean Tango, full of lust and power. Occasionally yielding to share a look, before they found their rhythm again, knowing they’d both win in the end. She lost herself in the passion again, before she heard faint knocks in the back of her mind. Fuck. David’s body stilled above her and he listened, until they both heard another knock. He pulled out quickly, and watched as she escaped to the neighbouring room, closing the door quietly behind her. She looked around the hotel room living area, and saw the clothes they’d worn earlier still discarded on the floor.
She muttered to herself as she walked towards her bedroom, turning back to look for him before she sat on the bed. She covered her face with her hands. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. What the fuck was she doing? Why didn’t she want to stop? Where had the usual instinct to turn away any man that was a distraction or threat to her carefully laid plan? She still had things to cross out before she moved into 10 Dowling Street. She heard quick footsteps and stood up as he closed the bedroom door behind him.
“Just a change in the schedule, Craddock likes handing out papers.” His breath was still uneven, and his eyes shone with lust. For her, she had to remind herself. A man who in the last few weeks had seen the power, the prestige and the mundane every day facets of her position as Home Secretary. Who had also watched her undone by fear, screaming in the backseat of a gunned down car and crippled by anxiety in the aftermath. She wore no armor. She had no power suit, no heels to strut around in, only traces of the day’s simple make up still on her face. She was naked and vulnerable in front of him, as he was her, and his eyes still looked like they wanted to devour her. She chewed the inside of her cheek and turned around, not exactly sure what it would accomplish, except maybe to give him the chance to walk away. He came up behind her, and pushed her down, his own body pressed against hers.
“If I remember correctly…” David whispered in her ear, and she gasped as he rolled her over quickly and then he was inside her again. He didn’t miss a beat and easily found the pace from before they’d been interrupted. His fingers interlocked with hers over her head, and his mouth covered hers as he swallowed every whimper, every pant, before his own orgasm made him lose control. He shook as his hips thrust against her, as he came undone. They lay spent for a while until the cold air from the vent turned them from a sweaty mess to a shivering one. He climbed off of her, and held the duvet up for her to climb under.
“Why were you angry earlier?” Her voice was quiet. He looked down at her as she played with the hand resting on his chest, and seemed surprised she’d noticed. But of course she had. The way he kissed her tonight had been so different to the last time. Last time had been sweet, tender, even loving. She had wanted to drown in the way he’d taken time to explore her mouth, melted into him as his hands touched her so tenderly and carefully. She’d fallen asleep to his hand holding hers as he lay behind her. Felt safe and protected. Tonight his lips had been harder, his hands rougher. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy every second of it, but she did wonder what had brought on the aggressiveness.
“Someone told me something that upset me.”
“A lie?”
“Don’t know for sure.” She could feel his eyes on her. She didn’t need to look up to know he was studying her face. He’d done it often in the weeks they’d known each other.
He pulled an arm around her, turning her in his arms, into a position reminiscent of the way they’d left things the first night they’d spent together. But far from the calm, protective way he’d held her then, her pulse quickened as she felt his hand lift her leg before he thrust into her with a grunt. Her thighs ached, but the pain soon gave away to pure pleasure. She heard his breath in her ear as her leg bent uncomfortably back, over his. She felt too overwhelmed to care. His hands felt like they were everywhere; as if there were more of them than the two strong arms that had held her up earlier. Clawing at her, nails scratching her skin and lips sucking where marks seemed doomed to form. He played with her left nipple, rolling it between his fingers until it peaked and his hand traveled down again. He let her leg fall back to a more normal position, slowly bucking into her with determination. She curled up against him, as her breath grew heavier. One of his hands helped her along as the other came to rest under her head. He hissed in her ear, his teeth pulling on skin in the back of her neck. As the hissing got more intense, he slammed into her with increasing roughness each time. She grabbed his hand as she came, hearing his grunts in her ear as he did too. He pulled her exhausted body closer and kissed her shoulder, before she felt the tickle of heavy sighs against her skin.
Standing in the bathroom, she could hear David playing a voice message off his phone, and felt quite certain she could hear children laughing. His, she assumed. The ones he always spoke about with such pride and so lovingly. Her heart ached a little bit, for the parental affection she’d never had. Her body ached too, with the memories of him all over her. She carefully studied the red marks courtesy of his lips and teeth, a vivid map of their shenanigans across her chest and neck. Her hair had long since lost its carefully styled curl, currently an obvious sign of their activities. The anger she’d noticed in his eyes earlier had dissipated, replaced with lust and passion. It should make her feel good, and it did, but with a growing feeling of fear mixed in as she heard his playful voice make comments from the bed behind the wall. She’d ruin it, she always did.
A sneaking feeling of anxiety crept up on her. The anxiety was new. The past few days, following Thornton Circus, had brought with them several new friends – waves of anxiety chief amongst them. Breathing became harder and she sat on the edge of the bathtub, hoping for the dizziness to go away and for oxygen to return to her lungs. His head popped out from behind the wall, and in between her attempts to breathe she thought she could trace a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“Julia, I asked if you were…”
Her legs began to buckle, and he quickly rushed to catch her before she fell forward in a mess on the floor.
“I’m sorry, I thought--- I misunderstood, Julia, I thought you liked it too. I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”
She felt his hands on the sides of her face, his eyes meeting hers before looking around the room. He looked panicked. She tried to verbalize everything she was feeling, but nothing would come out. Her eyes cast to the floor, panicked and unsure. His thumbs caressed her cheek as she drew deep breaths until the panic finally subsided, and she finally looked at him again. His eyes seemed understanding, as if he knew what was happening. He hadn’t moved closer, and he hadn’t let go either.
“I did like it. It’s not about you. I’m not an easy person to be around, David. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, been told stories.” He nodded. Every person he’d met had an opinion of Julia Montague to share. “And I’m sure you had your own opinions of me. I know you have. It’s not all untrue. I think I do wreck things. I long since ruined any functional relationship with my mother, because I wouldn’t conform to her dreams for me to be the perfect politician’s wife. I didn’t really want to be anyone’s wife, but I guess in some sort of compromise to repair our relationship, I married another politician while trying to be one. And if you ask my ex-husband, I wrecked my marriage. Though I’m not sure what really ruined it in his eyes, taking his job or the miscarriage that he didn’t know about for months. Not providing an heir to the Penhaligon bloodline, simply unforgivable. The day I signed my divorce papers, was the happiest day of my life. I finally felt free. I’d tried with my mother, I’d tried marriage, so no one could say I hadn’t at least done that.” She looked over at him, his eyes fixed on her lips, until they met hers and she gave him a half smile. He didn’t seem to know what to say, and as unusual as it felt to Julia to talk freely, she chose to continue on.
“I’m not deaf, or blind. I know people think I’m a monster. Cold. Hawkish. The bitter ex-wife, always trying to make the Chief Whip jealous, whether they’ve decided I’m drawing attention to myself instead of the Prime Minister, or I’m flirting with the up and comers of the party. Never mind that any man they publish a photo of has never made it past the door. I settled very comfortably into the idea of knowing I could change many lives instead of one.” She looked up at him, eyes still fixed to her lips as she spoke. Her face fell and her voice broke as her eyes watered. “Terry’s gone. And his wife’s lonely too, but she didn’t choose to be. I’m the reason for that.”
“A man with a gun is the reason for that. You didn’t--- Fuck, Julia.” He sat down on his knees and pulled her into an embrace.
“Please leave.” She pleaded, as she pulled away, his arms strong around her as she pushed against them. “Go before I ruin you too.”
“No.” He pushed the stray hairs away from her eyes, “There’s a million other places I could be. You’re right, people have told me a lot of different things, and I don’t know what’s true or not. But I still choose to be here. I’m not leaving unless you look at me and tell me you want me to leave. Do that, and I’ll close that door right now. We’ll never speak of this again, no one will ever know this happened.” He looked back towards his room, before he turned back to her. She knew she should say yes. She knew she should lie to him, force him to leave, make him hate her and go back to the lonely existence she’d had before him. Lonely politicians made for better ones. Less mess. Less illicit sex with bodyguards in hotel suites. Less chance of a scandal blowing up in her face. She couldn’t say no, didn’t want to say yes. So she just said nothing.
They sat on the warm bathroom tiles for a bit, David’s lips occasionally pressing to her face for comfort, until he groaned as he shifted and his knees creaked. She chuckled and he did too, the magic of laughter helping to ease the moment. After a few awkward attempts, David finally stood on his feet and pulled her up with him. He hugged her, her fingers tracing the scars on his back as they stood quietly for a few minutes until he finally broke away.
“Late dinner?” He asked with a smile, and she nodded.
“But no soup this time. Though some chips would be nice.”
“And does our Home Secretary like a dirty burger?”
“Yes, she does. But don’t you tell anyone.” Her heart felt like it was dancing, a harsh contrast to the erratic, pounding mess it had been not too long ago. David walked past her, looking back flirtatiously as he walked to his own room to order his side of dinner. She picked up the phone to make her own order, and thought she could hear his shower running as she hung up. For a quick second, she contemplated joining him, but it felt too risky. Though anyone would say even inviting him to her bed, or crossing the threshold to her PPOs room for sex was just as dangerous. She was so far gone, she couldn’t even see the lines of propriety in the far distance. However, the thought of a shower did sound heavenly.
She quickly cleansed her face of the traces of make up that were left, and was halfway into her second shampoo when he appeared in a robe in front of her. She leaned out from underneath the water, drops of it splattering as she spoke. “The food will arrive shortly, don’t even think about it.”
“Aye, I’ll just watch.” He leaned against the counter with a smile. It felt odd, having someone watch her here. It was what he did all day. Watched, checked, observed. Always on the lookout for disaster, prepared for attack. But this was different. He never smiled during the day. A sort of leering, appreciative smile adorned his lips now as he watched every move she made. She quickly wondered if there was a guide for how to entice a new lover that watched as you showered. She felt inexperienced with this kind of intimacy. Both her marriage and any encounters since had been more practically minded. Maybe she was expected to act differently. Sexier, perhaps. She pushed the stupid thoughts out of her mind, happy to note that he was still studying her body the same way he had earlier. No seduction, no pretending necessary. His stare would be unnerving if she wasn’t so quickly adapting to his presence. He threw a towel her way as she turned off the waterfall showerhead, and then held the robe open for her as she stepped out. The towel dropped to the floor as she wrapped the robe around her. David bent down and she held out her hand to take it from him, when he wrapped it around her head instead. She stared at him curiously as he gently pressed the remains of water out of her hair. While being watched with eager eyes in the shower was the most intimate thing she’d felt recently, feeling him rub a towel over her head as he attempted to dry her hair was the most unusual. She liked the way he took care of her, far more than she knew she should.
A knock on her door was followed by a more faint one, coming from his. He smiled quickly and kissed her lips before walking quickly over to his own room, closing the door behind him. She threw the towel on the bed before walking into the next room to open her door. She’d just closed it when his internal door opened, and he smiled widely as he carried his tray across the lounge and into the bedroom. Cheeky. So many things had felt unlike her already, she decided to go with the flow and followed his lead.
“If you have any job, what would you be doing?”
The dinner trays lay discarded on the floor, and she watched him from over her wine glass. His smile was sweet - a sort of boyish cute, mixed with mischief and confidence.
“I’m doing it.” She smiled, confident it was mostly the truth. She did love her job.
“That’s a lie.”
“Pardon?”
“You’d be Prime Minister. I just thought maybe I’d hear you say it. You know that’s one of the things everyone tells me about you, that you’ll do anything to get to Number 10. As if having ambition is one of your bad qualities.” She felt her cheeks burn, sure signs of being caught off guard, and took a sip of her wine to hide most of her reaction. She placed it back on the nightstand as David climbed under the covers, and laid on his stomach. “I think you’d be a good Prime Minister. For a Tory.”
Julia rolled her eyes and mimicked his position. The side of his face rested on his arms, as they lay folded underneath him. She faced him, her face resting comfortably against her arm, and smiled at the vague compliment as she stroked his forehead.
“If my boss knew I was discussing stealing his job while naked in bed with a Labour voter that his national budget is paying to protect me…”
“Tsk tsk tsk, you’re very bad Home Secretary.”
“Yes, I am.” It was the first time in years that Julia Montague had felt anything resembling giddy. The mix of wine, risk and him had started to chip away at the loneliness she was so used to. She stretched and leaned over to kiss him, when he met her half way. His arm wrapped around her again, and pulled her in until she was trapped beneath it. She wrapped a leg around his thigh, and an arm around the arm that was wrapped around her, and watched him begin to drift off to sleep. She couldn’t resist caressing his neck, playing gently with his still-damp hair as she heard murmurs muffled by the mattress.
“What?” She whispered, looking down at him as he raised his head.
“We’d both lose our jobs if anyone found out about this.”
“Yes, we probably would.” It wasn’t a lie. She knew full well that an already struggling Home Secretary would probably never survive a scandal like this. The ethical ramifications of a conservative caught in an extramarital affair with a not-yet divorced father of two would be disastrous. She’d already pictured the headlines when the fear had tried to build on her initial mistrust in him. References to a movie, unrelated stories of women whose marriages had been ruined, and the words home wrecker repeated ad-nauseam. All of her fight against prevalent sexism in politics and any of her wins for equality for women who needed it even more than she did, would be long forgotten. Pushed aside to focus merely on the fact that Julia Montague had spent her nights with a man society wouldn’t approve of.
She sighed, and ignored the rampant thoughts running through her head. David’s caress on her back made everything else seem far away, and her worries were long forgotten when he kissed a tiny bruise on her shoulder. Her hand played with his hair again, her heart skipped a beat when he pressed his lips against hers before he settled into the crook of her neck again. Maybe it would be a disaster, but for now she’d choose to trust in their ability to keep their own secret.