Again, the big man shrugged. 'You barter what you have for what you want in politics, my dear. If you're lucky, you make an equal exchange…' He paused. 'Listen to me, Dianne… politics is a dirty game… a powerful, exacting, dirty game that bleeds the soul… then, rewards with unbelievable riches… The Colemans have been involved for a century. What Mark is doing is as natural as tomorrow morning's sunrise. He can't help it. It's a part of him… 'a family heritage', so to speak.'
'And God knows what else is a part of him!' she spat vehemently.
A.C. Faro swung slowly into his driveway. He brought the car to a halt and switched off the engine. 'Well,' he said, 'here we are. I don't see Mark's car… Would you like to go in and have a drink while we wait for them?'
Dianne turned to him. What a marvelous man. Handsome too… Why couldn't Mark be like him? How could he remain married to that woman? She was cutting him to the quick, Dianne was certain of it. God, she felt sorry for him… and here he was spending his time worrying over her problem, saying nothing of his own…
'Well?' he persisted.
'Yes… yes, I'd love to have a drink with you, A.C. I want to see their faces when they arrive and we're here waiting for them.'
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mark could hardly believe the magnificence of Tonya's sensual, naked body. He set the drinks on the table beside the bed, then, leaned over her, pressing his lips tightly against hers. There was something about her that incited a driving sensation of lust inside him, like all of the whores he'd ever known in his life… like Dianne never could, he was certain. She reached up, encircled his neck with her arm and drew him down on top of her. He purposely thrust one of his naked legs between her slightly spread thighs. She was unbelievably supple, soft like velvet… like Dianne, and her body adhered to his as if it had grown there. She lifted her thigh until it was tight into his groin while he ground his mouth harshly against hers, making his cock lurch into a near-painful hardness…
He sensed the wetness of his own seminal fluid seeping from the tip of his ever hardening prick, and suddenly it occurred to him that he'd cum from just the manipulations of her leg against it if she didn't stop. That would be a fine thing, wouldn't it? Like some Goddamned high school kid on his first date! Christ, she set him on fire and he couldn't fathom why! She was just a bitch and he knew it. He tried to move his prick from her gentle ministrations and at the same time sent his tongue deep into her mouth; she sucked at it, nibbling and nipping with her teeth, transmitting crazy chills along his spine. He raised his head, then lay his cheek along side her hair almost desperately, his hand caressing her ripe, full breast automatically.
'You're an odd one, Mark Coleman,' she said of a sudden.
'Wh-What? Why do you say that?'
'You've been avoiding me for ages… steering clear of all the girls at the club,' she half whispered. 'Why?'
'Why…?' he managed, his brain fumbling; he'd always had a gift of words. It was his law training. 'Why not? If what you say is so… but did it ever occur to you that I might just be playing it safe… avoiding the jealous husband and all that?'
'Nonsense,' she replied, laughing rather crudely. 'I know better than that… and so do you…'
'No, really,' he interrupted her. 'I didn't have a wife… didn't feel that I belonged to that extent… I mean…'
Again, she laughed. 'You mean, swapping, don't you?'
'Yes.'
'It wouldn't have mattered,' she said softly, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair where he lay with his face against her head. 'We're a pretty liberal group, you know…' She clutched at his hair and pulled, raising his face above her where she could see into it. 'Why did you marry her, anyway?'
'Dianne?'
'Yes. Why? I want to know.'
Mark shrugged his broad shoulders. 'Why do people get married?' he countered.
'Numerous reasons… sometimes, even love. But that wasn't yours, Mark Coleman.'
'Oh…? Why do you say that?'
'Because…' she said levelly, her great eyes searching his handsome face. 'I doubt that you could ever love any woman. You're too self-centered… too ruthless… too ambitious… and who knows, maybe a little incapable, too.'
Mark felt his face reddening. 'What the hell do you mean by that last part?'
Tonya Faro shrugged beneath him. 'We girls discuss these things, you know. That idea has been tossed in several times… for what it's worth. Of course, I'm not saying that I feel that way, Darling…'
'Really!' he snapped. This was getting to be a hell of a sexual arrangement. He could feel his prick deflating like a punctured balloon. 'Just what the hell is this anyway, an interview for the Country Club News?'
Tonya Faro laughed loudly. Finally, she said: 'No, Darling, it's nothing only little old inquisitive me. I want to know why you married that nice sweet little girl? She's not like the rest of us, you know.'
Her question twisted inside him. So, this was what she and others like her at the club had finally decided about him. Christ, maybe they even thought he was queer?
'Well…' she persisted.
'A politician has to have a wife,' he said, holding his voice to as casual a level as he could.
'Such a beautiful, innocent and sexy one?'
'Why not?' He grinned down at her, watching her tremendous dark eyes rove over his face, almost feeling them penetrate to the depths of his soul.
'Is she good in bed?'
'Yes,' he answered, simultaneously giving it some thought and trying to remember. Then, 'But I don't think she knows it, yet. She was a virgin when I married her…'
'You're kidding?'
'I'm serious!' he snapped. 'She was a pure, chaste virgin when I married her.'
'Well… I'll be damned,' Tonya breathed heavily. 'I thought that specie went out with World War II… which makes it worse, Mark Coleman.'
'Meaning…?'
'You're using her,' the naked woman beneath him smiled and said. 'You are, aren't you?'
Mark didn't answer. There were words at his disposal, but for some reason he didn't want to employ them. She was right and he knew it. This girl… this woman… she seemed able to root to his very soul; he hesitated to lie to her.
'Aren't you?'
'I-I don't know… I suppose so.'
'You're a dirty, lousy, fucking bastard, Mark Coleman… but I love you… Did you know that?' she hissed up at him.
God yes… she was right! And he did know it! Finally, he nodded. 'Yeah,' he managed, 'you're right… You're so Goddamned right.'
Tonya laughed. 'You ought to make a good politician… even a good governor… or who knows what. You're rotten enough.'
'Thanks.'
'Can you fuck? I mean really fuck?'
He gaped down at her. 'I… I don't know,' he replied, her approach both surprising and exciting him, but suddenly making him feel awfully Godamned inadequate. And, then, he realized suddenly that she was quivering beneath him. Her thighs were churning against his loins, once more. She was breathing deeply.
He sensed his own desire come immediately alive again. He started to lower, himself; he wanted very badly to lick her cunt. His prick was abruptly as hard as a cold chisel.
