Thankfully, I was able to call my father when Annie got wind of Jodi’s story being published, and pre-warn my mother. I haven’t been back home since it all came out, but one thing is for certain—the hometown success story now has a tarnish that will not be wiped from people’s memories any time soon.

There were a series of stories—accusations of corruption, false claims of nepotism, election year hand-outs from the mayor . . . you name it, Grant and I have been accused of it. I’ve also been labeled a heartless Lothario with a dirty mouth, an even dirtier mind, and one who callously swept Jodi aside when I met Lucia.

Lucia has been my rock throughout all of this. I pride myself on being strong, able to handle whatever is thrown my way, but despite everything that I’ve been accused of and labeled as, she has stayed by my side. She has never once questioned me as to whether the accusations were true or not. She’s believed in me wholeheartedly.

In fact, when the reporters wouldn’t stop harassing her outside her apartment building, one even going so far as to talk himself through the lobby and knocking on her front door, I told her to stay with me.

Nothing between the two of us has changed. Nothing about Luce and the way she is with me has changed.

But I have. And Luce has not missed it.

We have not attended any functions since the news broke, and I haven’t gone near the restaurant.

I made the decision to use a car service full-time, not wanting to drive my car any place where I might get bombarded by the press. That hasn’t stopped the constant stream of phone calls and requests for interviews coming through the firm.

The physical manifestations of the pressure I’m under is starting to show and to combat their effect, I’m trying to make it up to her in other ways.

Long gone is the sex with reckless abandon we used to enjoy. I don’t want Lucia to ever think that what we have together is anything like what I had with Jodi. I’ve been more attentive to her needs than usual, making love to her gently, slowly, driving her higher and higher until she climaxes beneath me.

She’s my anchor in a swirling sea of distrust, and I’m trying to shelter her from the storm that is my life. But with the pressure growing with every passing moment, other things have weighed heavily on my mind.

I’ve had to be controlled.

Almost too controlled.

The desire to do more has been calling to me louder and clearer than ever, becoming harder and almost impossible to ignore.

Still I’ve come too far now to lose the best thing in my life over something far too tempting to contemplate.

As much as I’ve tried, what I can’t silence is the desperate need that claws at me as pressure continues to mount. The deafening roar inside, threatening to explode if something—anything—doesn’t give, and soon.

I’m distracted from this train of thought when Lucia calls my name from the kitchen. “Cal?”

Ever the hostess, she’s decided that my big empty house needed people in it. Therefore we are hosting a dinner party tonight with Grant, Jeremy, Julia, Heather and Glen. My parents are watching Grayson for the night so it’s an ‘adults night out’ with the people I’m closest to and trust the most.

Shutting down the computer, I leave the upstairs office and make my way down to find my girlfriend looking messed up and overheated, bending down in front of the oven.

My cock stiffens at her round, firm ass swinging high in the air in front of me, calling to me to take her hard and fast in my kitchen, pushing her down over the center island and ramming into her from behind, my hand turning her head in place so I can plunder her mouth.

She looks over her shoulder and meets my eyes. “What’s that look for, Mr. Alexander?”

“What look, Ms. Harding?”

“The look that says you’re cataloguing all of the dirty things you could do to my ass while I’m in this position?”

“To your ass?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

Her cheeks go red uncharacteristically, and for once I see Luce almost look bashful. She quickly recovers though. “Well, maybe not that in the kitchen. We do have dinner guests arriving soon.”

Unable to resist, I walk over to her and push her back against the counter. “We have forty minutes. A lot can be achieved in that time,” I murmur against her neck, trailing my lips down her soft skin and nipping the curve of her shoulder. “A lot of things can be given, and received . . .”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums as her hands start to roam, diving beneath my shirt and running over my stomach before heading south. “I’m more of a show me, don’t tell me kind of woman.”

“And I’m an ‘anything you want, wherever you want it’ kind of man.”

“The perfect kind.”

“Then let me demonstrate.” Hooking my hands beneath her ass, I hoist her up and place her on the counter, and set about showing her some enjoyable ways to spend a spare forty minutes.

“Let me get this straight. You were arrested for indecent exposure? In the French Riviera? Where you’re outcast if you’re not topless?” Grant asks Lucia after dinner.

“Yeah, I just happened to come across a conservative cop who felt I needed a lesson in acceptable public behavior.” She smiles wide, the experience obviously not having a detrimental effect on her confidence.

“There are a lot of different kinds of lessons that can be given without hauling a topless woman into a jail cell,” Julia says from the other side of the table.

“Naked. Not topless. Naked.”

The table starts laughing, partly in shock but also amazement.

Her eyes meet mine and she raises an eyebrow at me. Then her bare foot snakes up my leg, and I know the devious glint in her eye now has a purpose.

“How about you, Cal? Been arrested for something we don’t know about? Got any deep, dark secrets to hide from the parents?” Jeremy pipes up, cornering me in during a lull in the conversation.

I cautiously eye Grant, who is now smirking. Lucia watches me intently, awaiting my answer. In fact, the entire table is now giving me full attention. Fuck.

“I don’t even think he snuck out after curfew during high school,” Heather muses.

“Jesus,” I mutter with a groan, looking to the ceiling.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Jeremy and Heather retort in singsong unison, imitating our mother. That just starts another round of laughs.

“There are no secrets,” I reply, lifting my scotch to my mouth and taking a slow, measured sip.

Lucia scoffs light-heartedly. “Oh I don’t believe that for one minute, Cal.”

“Everyone has secrets.” Grant looks at me pointedly, then thankfully looks away.

“I’m an open book. No secrets here,” she says with a shrug, lifting her wine glass to her mouth.

I’ve never lied to Lucia, but with the amassing pressure starting to take its toll and the intensifying glare of public attention I feel whenever I’m not at home, I’m holding back more.

She deserves more than me holding back, more than what I’m giving her now.

“Earth to Cal?” Jeremy says.

“What?” I ask, looking at my brother.

“Are you okay? You know, with the press?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

“It must be hard, always being watched, reported on . . .” Glen adds.

All eyes turn to me at the head of the table, studying me, waiting for me to give them the truth. But without realizing it, I go into autopilot mode. With a slow curl of my lips, I smile at my family, some of my most fervent supporters, and I lie. “I’m good. I’m used to it by now.” I shrug and finish off my scotch.

Standing up, I sweep my arm out to the table. “Anybody need a refill?”

My eyes default to Luce, and I’m struck by the intensity of her stare. She’s studying me like a Rubik’s cube when you’re only a few twists and turns from success. The endearing tilt of her head unsettles me, an innate feeling caused by the knowledge that the woman I love sees right through my mask, through the smoke and mirrors I’ve erected to hide behind. She’s able to sense the unease inside of me, and the concern in her eyes threatens my resolve to stay strong in the face of enduring pressure.