Jackie Gardner knows all about dirty little secrets. The illegitimate daughter of one of the most influential senators in Washington, D.C., she grew up surrounded by the scandals and shadows of politics. Now that she’s landed an internship with a powerful political consulting firm, she’s determined to launch her career and take this city by storm.
William Andrew Clayton was born for politics. He knows the drill: work hard, play discreetly, and at all costs, avoid scandal. At twenty-six, his campaign for the Virginia State Senate is the first step to cementing his future. It’s time for him to settle down, to find the perfect political spouse. He needs a Jackie Kennedy, not a Marilyn…
When Jackie meets Will in the bar of the Hay-Adams Hotel, sparks fly. But the last thing Will needs is to be caught in a compromising position, and an affair with a political candidate could cost Jackie her career. When what began as one steamy night, becomes a passion neither one of them can walk way from, they must decide if what they have is really love, or just another dirty little secret…
Includes a preview of the next Capital Confessions novel, Playing With Trouble
"Flirting with Scandal by Chanel Cleeton has it all. A sexy hero, strong heroine, delicious romance, sizzling tension, and plenty of breathtaking scandal. I loved this book!"—New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy
“One hot, sexy, politically charged, provocative and deliciously scandalicious read!! I absolutely LOVED this book and could not put it down!!!” –Four Chicks Flipping Pages
“Move over Shonda Rhimes, there’s a new scandalous writer in town! Political Romance has never been so good! Flirting with Scandal was a fast paced, sexy romance that has me begging for more!” – Margie’s Must Reads
“Forbidden office romance at its finest.” – Life with 2 Boys
“With an amazing plot coupled with lots of awesome political action, this book was a true page turner.”– The Literary Gossip
“Chanel Cleeton has done it again, once again weaving a beautiful and exciting world full of passion, intrigue, and emotion. Flirting With Scandal was an incredible story of politics, following your heart, and learning who you are in the midst of the overwhelming chaos around you.” – Typical Distractions
Praise for the novels of Chanel Cleeton
“A sassy, steamy, and sometimes sweet read that had me racing to the next page.”—New York Times bestselling author Chelsea M. Cameron
“Fun, sexy, and kept me completely absorbed.”—Katie McGarry, author of Take Me On
“I absolutely loved this book!...It set itself apart from the beginning and it kept getting better.”—Examiner.com
Romance novels and politics are two of Chanel Cleeton’s greatest passions. What better than to combine them? Chanel received a bachelor’s degree in International Relations from Richmond, the American International University in London and a master’s degree in Global Politics from the London School of Economics and Political Science. She’s also a graduate (survivor) of law school—she earned her J.D. from the University Of South Carolina School Of Law. A summer cruise in the Caribbean changed Chanel’s life when she met and fell in love with a fighter pilot. A happily ever after later, she’s currently living an adventure with her husband and three pups.
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Bachelor Alert! William Andrew Clayton is running for the Virginia Senate. While this blogger hasn’t had the pleasure of debating politics with him, I’ve heard he’s seriously fine. Ladies, hurry while he’s still single . . .
—Capital Confessions blog
When I was a kid, my mother used to take me to brunch at the Hay-Adams Hotel. When I got older, our outings usually involved a slinky dress and the bar. But when I was younger, before the slinky dresses and overpriced drinks, I thought the Hay-Adams was magic.
We would sit at a corner table, and my mother—perfect hair and makeup, elegant dress that cost more than our monthly food bill—would point out the powerful men who walked through the D.C. hotel’s hallowed halls.
I was too young to understand that the tall man with the funny-looking hair was a senator, or that his companion was a congressman, but I knew there was something about them. Something that made my mother sit up in her seat and take notice when they walked by. Something special.
When I asked her who they were, she would smile and say, “They’re kings and princes—like in your books.”
She would tell me stories about them—some were good, some not so good, but they were all powerful. And by the reverence in her voice, seven-year-old me realized that was the something special, the thing that made them different.
I was eight when I first saw my father—at brunch at the Hay-Adams.
We were sitting at my favorite table, right near the chandelier. When I looked up, the light reflected off the ceiling in dazzling sparks. In my best dress and shiny black Mary Janes, I felt like a princess.
Suddenly my mother’s head jerked up, her lips pursed in a tight line, her gaze trained on a table across from ours.
“Who is that?” I waited for her to tell me one of her stories—how he was a bad king or something scandalous. But what she said instead stunned me into silence.
“That’s your father.”
Other people had fathers. Mine had been more of a myth. I knew he’d existed at one point, but then he’d left, never to return again. Except here he was, in my hotel. Eating brunch a few tables away. I’d found him.
I stood up and headed toward him, my Mary Janes clicking against the hardwood floors. Behind me I heard my mother’s voice—urgent and shrill—“Jacqueline”—calling me back. I ignored her.
My father sat at the table with three other people. They all stopped eating as I approached, and four pairs of eyes stared at me.
There were two girls—one had pretty brown hair, she looked to be a few years older than me; the other girl was blonde like me, her hair a few shades darker than mine. She looked about my age. A woman sat at the table with them. Her hair was cut in a sharp bob, so different from my mother’s long tumble of waves. Her gaze traveled over me and dismissed me, but it didn’t matter. Not when all of my attention was focused on him.
Like most of the men who came here, my father wore a fancy suit. He was tan, his teeth a bright white. He had my hair, blond, and my eyes, blue. Or maybe I had his. Because staring into his face, I saw myself.
His gaze flickered from me to my mother. I waited for him to speak, for him to acknowledge me somehow, for him to realize who I was—that I was a part of him—but he didn’t do any of those things. Instead he turned, looking away, his attention back on the two beautiful little girls at his table.
I stood there, struggling to find the words, trying to tell him I was his daughter, that I’d found him, but my voice failed me. A slow heat spread across my face, tears filling my eyes as embarrassment rushed through me like a wave carrying me away.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” my mother hissed in my ear, pulling me back. “He’s a very important man. No one can ever know he’s your father. Ever.”
“But I found him,” I whispered, through tears. “He was lost and I found him.”
“He has his own family. He didn’t want to be found.”
That was the day I stopped believing in bullshit about kings and princes.
• • •
“You want another?”
I stared down at the nearly empty Jack and Diet Coke. “Sure. Why not?”
“It can’t be that bad, love.”
“I fucked up.”
Hank grinned. “You and everybody else in this town. Just spin it. Isn’t that what you do best?”
I downed the rest of my drink, offering him a weak smile. Hank was my favorite bartender at the Hay-Adams. I didn’t come here a lot, the drinks way too overpriced for my college student budget, but I liked to come once in a while. Hank had been serving me drinks going back to the days when I drank Shirley Temples. In a fucked-up way, this place felt like home.
I needed to come tonight. Needed to remind myself of why I wanted to get into politics in the first place. Needed to drink off the epically bad day.
If a senior staffer had made the mistake I did, they would have been given a serious warning. For a college senior—a lowly intern—to make the mistake, well, let’s just say I was terrified I’d be fired tomorrow. My big D.C. career, over before it even started. Let’s not even add in the sad embarrassment of potentially being fired from a job I wasn’t even getting paid for.
“Haven’t seen your mom in here in a while,” Hank commented.
“She’s in the Caribbean with a congressman.”
There were few secrets in D.C., and my mother was basically a legend. She was a groupie’s groupie, except politicians were her rock stars, and elections her sold-out concerts at Madison Square Garden.
“He’s a good guy.”
I smirked, not surprised Hank already knew who I was talking about. Discretion wasn’t exactly Janie Gardner’s forte.
“Sure.” We both knew my mom wasn’t with him because he was a “good guy.”
I leaned over the bar top. “Give me something good, Hank. Anything. I’m desperate here.”
You wanted to know the real D.C. dirt? Bartenders saw it all.
“Let me think.” He grinned, leaning closer, my coconspirator in scandal. “Guess who’s having an affair with a page?”
“Senator Michaelson. Old news.”
“There are rumors of an inquiry on campaign finance.”
I laughed. “Brian at Yellow Bar already told me that one.”
It was pretty hard to stump a girl who’d grown up on political scandals as bedtime stories.
Who wrote this trash? A high school girl? It was supposed to be a political blog. Sure, it tended to focus on the scandalous and occasionally steamy, but reducing my campaign to a few words about my looks pissed me off. Nothing about the issues or the good I could do my district in Virginia.
It was bad enough that I wasn’t a native son, my ties to the state limited to my grandfather’s legacy. I’d spent months trying to convince my prospective constituents that they could trust me to represent them, and in a few sentences, some blogger had diminished me to little more than a candidate on a reality TV dating show.
The blog had been a thorn in my side from the beginning. Not that I was alone in that. Half of D.C. had been caught with their pants down in Capital Confessions over the past few months. It was just another headache in a long line of them. I needed a drink and a moment of peace where I didn’t have to hear the words, “polls,” or “demographics,” or “election.”
I glanced down the length of the bar, struggling to catch the bartender’s attention. It was busy tonight, even for a Monday. Busy enough that bartenders were slammed filling drink orders. One guy on the end was engaged in conversation with a girl—
Okay, fair enough, I would be, too.
To borrow a phrase from Capital Confessions, the girl was seriously fine. More than seriously fine. If I were going to use my own words to describe her, I would have gone with totally fuckable.
She was tall—legs for days, showcased by a black skirt short enough to show them off. She was tan, her skin the perfect canvas to highlight shockingly blue eyes, and long, straight blonde hair. She leaned across the bar, and her tits thrust forward in her shirt, and my mouth went dry, my tongue all but hanging out.
She laughed at something the bartender said, the sound low and sultry, winding its way through me like a siren’s call, breaking through all of the D.C. noise.
She was the kind of girl you noticed, and by the smile on her lips, she knew it. She raised her glass to her mouth, draining the liquid in one gulp, and then she turned and our gazes collided. Everything around me disappeared except for her.
She didn’t shy away. I liked that. Liked the challenge that flickered in her eyes as she met my gaze head-on. She looked young, younger than I’d expected, and there was something vaguely familiar about her—like I’d seen her around before, and yet if I had, I would have remembered.
Her lips curved slowly, widening into a blinding, megawatt smile. Christ. Her eyes sparkled with the kind of mischief I’d been warned about my entire life, and I could practically hear my mother’s voice in my head telling me, “This one looks like trouble.”
I couldn’t afford this shit, not with an election in a few months. Girls who looked like they could chew you up and spit you out—and make you like it—were to be avoided at all costs. Especially during an election year.
And yet I moved down the bar, my feet carrying me toward her. At the end of the day, I was running for the Virginia Senate, not dead.
“Incoming,” Hank whispered, stepping back with a wink.
I barely heard him.
The guy walking toward me had all of my attention now. I’d noticed him across the bar; it had been impossible not to, but he was something else in motion.
I loved men. Strange for a girl who’d grown up without a father and with a revolving door of “uncles.” But I did. I loved the way they moved, the sound of their voices, the touch of their hands. This one moved with a casual grace that suggested an athletic background—lacrosse, maybe, or hockey—something preppy and something with a stick.
He was tall, six feet or so, dressed in a navy suit and a crisp white dress shirt. He was impeccable and yet . . . his silver tie was just a bit askew, as if he’d been tugging at the knot. His dark blond hair was a bit tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it. He looked older than me, mid-twenties maybe, and then our gazes locked and I stared into the most shockingly green eyes I’d ever seen, and stick a fork in me, I was done.
Maybe today was starting to look up.
He stopped in front of me, forcing me to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. For a moment we just stared, sizing each other up. He grinned and suddenly his whole face transformed. It was an endearing, blinding, “trust me” kind of smile, and I was pretty sure with a smile like that he could have anything he wanted. Even me. Especially me.
Wow. His voice matched the total package. It was crisp and cool, with a touch of New England that made me think of summers in the Hamptons, and polo matches, and things that never seemed sexy until now. Somehow he made “hi” sound like an invitation. Or maybe it was the way his gaze traveled down my body and back again like a hot caress.
I took another sip of my drink before giving him my full attention. I needed the moment to calm the fuck down. I was just tipsy enough to feel flustered and reckless enough to want to play. Dangerous combination.
I turned in my seat, re-crossing my long legs. My skirt hem crept up and his gaze trailed back down.
I flashed him another smile like a one-two punch. “Hi.”
He leaned forward, his arm propped on the empty seat next to me. “I’m Will.”
He looked like a Will, or perhaps more accurately, a William. He was the kind of guy who should have Roman numerals after his name. Everything about him screamed old money, prep schools and yachts, and aunts with nicknames like “Bitsy.”
I didn’t offer a last name, liked him better for doing the same. Thanks to my mother’s legacy, my last name was one I hesitated to drop in this town. But then again, something about him didn’t quite fit here. He didn’t look like he was from D.C., like he’d been raised on political intrigue and scandal like I’d been. He was still shiny and new. I liked that.
His eyes narrowed, the easygoing expression wiped from his face, covered by something shrewd, and I wondered if I’d misjudged him after all. There was more there—more than just a nice face and a hot body.
“You look familiar.”
Years of practice kept my smile from slipping even a notch. “Familiar” could mean a lot of things.
“Really?” I affected a bored drawl. If I’d learned anything from my mother, it was how to make men work for it.
“I’ve seen you around.” He rattled off a list of events, half of which I’d been to, while I used the opportunity to size him up. I realized I’d seen him around, too—at parties, a lecture at Georgetown. He was familiar and yet he wasn’t—I’d seen pieces of him—an elbow here, his face in profile there, a laugh heard across the room, a smile meant for someone standing behind me, perhaps.
Given the events he’d listed off, he was somehow peripherally involved in politics, although given the nature of D.C. that wasn’t surprising. Still. It should have been enough to warn me off. There was a reason I usually gravitated toward musicians and artists.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
I flashed him a smile, upping the wattage to lessen the sting. “I buy my own drinks.”
He looked thrown. They always were, but on him it was kind of cute.
“You can sit, though.” I gestured at the seat next to me.
He hesitated. “Is the buying-your-own-drinks thing what you use to give guys the polite brush-off, and now you’re just offering me the seat because you feel sorry for me, or do I actually have a chance here?”
I laughed. The buying-my-own-drinks thing went hand-in-hand with the paying-for-my-own-meals thing. I knew guys thought it was weird, but if they had a mother who lived her life having her way paid by men, they’d understand.
“Why don’t you sit and see?”
Looking for the perfect place to meet your next boyfriend? The bar at the Hay-Adams has been particularly popular lately, especially for a handsome state senate candidate.
—Capital Confessions blog
Smooth, really smooth.
Admittedly, I wasn’t at my best tonight. I didn’t pick up strange girls in bars. I wasn’t even sure this was a pick-up. All I knew was one moment I saw her, and the next my feet carried me toward her. My brain lagged behind.
I sat down in the chair next to hers and ordered a martini. I could practically feel the bartender’s amusement as he took my order, his gaze darting back and forth between us before he left to make my drink.
“So where are you from?” I asked, struggling to take charge of the situation.
“I was born here. I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“That seems rare.” I didn’t mention . . . and kind of depressing. I barely tolerated D.C. I viewed it as a means to an end, a place where I was forced to get my hands dirty from time to time.
“Where are you from?” she asked.
She grinned. “I figured. You have the northeastern preppy vibe going on.”
Awesome. My campaign staff was working on erasing that.
“Let me guess, Yale? And you played lacrosse?”
I winced. There was something in her tone, something fairly mocking. Maybe I was predictable, what-you-see-is-what-you-get. But there was nothing wrong with predictable. Predictable was dependable, and it was going to get me elected. Some perverse part of me wanted to tell her I went to a state school in the Midwest and played football.
I’d always been honest to a fault.
She grinned. “Was I right about the lacrosse? What position did you play? Center?”
The bartender set my martini on the bar in front of me, sending me a pitying look before walking away. I was beginning to think this wasn’t the first time he’d watched this happen.
I took a long swig of my drink before setting it down, needing the burst of liquid courage. Today had been a bitch, and this girl needling me wasn’t doing a ton for my ego. And yet some masochistic part of me liked her screwing with me. It wasn’t a game I got to play very often . . . ever.
Her gaze traveled down my body, a mischievous glint in her eye, and my dick responded instantly, not giving a shit about my humiliation.
“You look like an athlete.”
“Really?” I drawled.
“I figured it would be a sport with a stick.” Her tone faintly purred with sex and innuendo.
I choked on my martini, the alcohol burning its way down my throat. Jesus. I couldn’t remember the last time a girl made a dirty joke—albeit a terrible one—to me. College, maybe? Years ago.
“That’s a horrible line,” I sputtered.
Her grin widened. “True, but you’d be surprised how often it works.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” I let my gaze roam down her body leisurely, taking in the tight little curves and the long legs. I needed to get the upper hand here. Somehow. My voice dropped, my tone husky. “I think we both know you could have any man in this bar.”
“Even you?” Her tone was teasing, but there was a dare behind her words.
And fuck if I could ever back away from a challenge.
I leaned forward, invading some of her space, much as she’d done to me. I was close enough to make out a hint of her perfume—floral and spicy. Close enough that if I’d leaned forward an inch farther I could have captured her full, pink, fuck-me lips. Some girls might have blushed or backed away, but she did neither. Her stare was unblinking, the same challenge in her voice evident in her gaze.
Her eyes looked like they’d seen too much, lived too much, and yet underneath the hard edge she was younger than I’d originally thought—all barely contained exuberance and energy. Yet another reason this had the potential to be a spectacularly bad idea.
“How old are you?”
Shit. She was young.
“Are you still in college?”
She nodded. “You?”
“I graduated ages ago.”
Her smile deepened, a hint of a dimple flashing at the corner of her mouth. “How old are you, Harvard?”
Twenty-one-year-old girls who looked like she did were pretty much kryptonite for soon-to-be state senators. If my brain were in charge I would have thrown some money on the bar for my drink and gotten the hell out of there. But I didn’t. There was something about her, something that felt like a burst of color in a sea of gray.
And then she leaned forward, her arm brushing against me. Her fingers curled around the edge of the pick of olives in my martini. I watched, mesmerized, as one by one, she slipped the martini olives into her mouth, her eyes on mine the entire time.
I wasn’t sure what possessed me to go for the olive trick. Maybe it was the Jack; maybe it was the fact that he was hot and I desperately needed a distraction. Or maybe it was just that he looked a little uptight, sitting there in his three-thousand-dollar suit, and I couldn’t resist the urge to rumple him a bit.
At first glance he seemed like your average rich, preppy boy. Cute in an All-American way. Vanilla. I tended toward motorcycles, lean muscles, and tats, as far from vanilla as you could get. But this guy—this guy had “nice guy” written all over him. He was the kind of guy you would bring home to mom and dad—well mannered, classy, definitely not my type. But he took the shit I handed out with a grace that impressed me. I was in full-on bitch mode and he wasn’t backing away. So I upped the stakes a bit, waiting to see his reaction.
Silence hung between us as anticipation filled my body. I was playing with him; he knew it, and I knew it, and I fucking loved the game. His move.
But he didn’t make a move. He didn’t do anything. He just sat there, his gaze intent, speculative almost. His smile had been blinding, but his stare was equally unsettling. He looked at me like he was trying to make out all of my secrets, and for a girl like me that was a dangerous game to play.
I’d had just enough Jack to put this evening firmly into the category of not one of my best ideas. I didn’t do one-night stands. I didn’t do relationships, either, but stranger sex was so not on the menu. He could be an ax-murderer, or a pervert, or really bad in bed. It was time to call it a day.
I reached for my bag, pulled out a twenty, and slid it across the bar top.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Harvard—”
He moved forward, just an inch, but enough that his hand reached out, circling my wrist. We both froze the instant he touched me. His eyes widened, almost as if he were surprised by his own actions.
We both looked down at the same time, our gazes glued to the spot where our flesh met.
His hand was tanner than mine. It was easy to imagine him outdoors—sailing, maybe. Maybe he still played lacrosse. He looked so masculine, and physical, and something about the sight of his hand—long, tapered fingers, neatly trimmed nails—was enough to make my breath catch. His hands, like everything else about his body, were big. With him arched over my chair, it was impossible to not feel like he dominated me.
We didn’t look at each other, instead we both watched as he turned my hand over, palm up. For a second I forgot to breathe. Everything around us, the sounds of glasses clinking and deals being made, fell away. I forgot that I was at the Hay-Adams, forgot everything but the image of his hand, so male, so strong, so capable, encircling mine.
I waited. It must have been only seconds, and yet it felt like an eternity. Waited until I felt it, the brush of his finger, featherlight, on the inside of my wrist—stroking, teasing, tempting—unraveling me with the slightest touch.
I went completely still, my body anchored by his. The fire alarm could have gone off and I wouldn’t have moved an inch. My eyes closed, savoring the feel of his hand on my bare skin.
It was the kind of touch that was nothing and everything at the same time. It was an invitation, a proposition, a claiming, possession. With one finger, the power completely shifted.
My eyes fluttered open, unable to resist the urge to watch. His fingers stroked the inside of my wrist, lazy patterns and swirls that somehow looked like art. Each touch sent a shiver through me, my nipples tightening, heat flooding my body. I’d never been so turned on in my life, and all he’d touched was the inside of my wrist.
I thought I knew my fair share about sex. Lust. Desire. Ever since I lost my virginity to Allison Daniels in the eleventh grade, I’d enjoyed sex. But as soon as I touched this girl, I realized—
I hadn’t been doing it right.
Somehow stroking this girl’s wrist felt like the most sexual thing I’d ever done, which was both sad and electrifying, and made me want to touch a whole lot more than just her wrist. There was something about her. Something that made you stop what you were doing and stare. She looked like trouble—the kind you couldn’t wait to get into.
She closed her eyes, her lips parting, and I knew I wanted those lips—on me, around me, covering me in her warmth. I wanted to see her face when she came, to hear the moans that would escape from her mouth. Somewhere between the martini olives and my fingers teasing her flesh, I’d stopped caring about my reputation.
I moved forward, my arm brushing against hers, our bodies just barely touching. I had to fight the urge to not press against her. I was drowning in her scent, in the feel of her skin against mine. I was drowning, and I held on to her like she was my lifeline, when ironically she would be my undoing.
My mouth hovered against her ear, just barely grazing the sensitive flesh. She shivered, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Whatever tenuous grip I had on my sanity fled.
“I want you.”
I pulled back, waiting to see her reaction, lust and need pumping through my veins. I felt like the first time I’d asked a girl out on a date—nervous, edgy, afraid she was going to turn me down flat. I could just see it now in Capital Confessions—which state senate candidate was turned down by a mysterious blonde?
Her eyes fluttered open, a shocking blue framed by a fan of lashes. Her head tilted to the side, her expression inscrutable as she studied me. I prayed that whatever she saw in my face and in my eyes met with her approval.
Did I look the way I felt? Tired, a little strung out from too much caffeine and too many months of celibacy, a little worn-out from the Washington machine. She was so vibrant, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was old and boring, and standing here with my dick in my hands thinking, please pick me.
She stood up from her chair, my hand still wrapped around her wrist. For a moment we just stared at each other, and then she tugged me forward, and god help me, I let her.
I didn’t know what I was doing. I walked through the bar at the Hay-Adams, Will trailing behind me. He released my hand as we made our way through the crowd, which was fine with me. I didn’t need people gossiping about me, assuming I was just like my mother, looking for the next wealthy man to take care of me. I needed this to be completely unremarkable, especially when it felt like it was anything but.
He followed me through the lobby, silent. His head was ducked, and it occurred to me that I knew next-to-nothing about him. What if he was married? I hadn’t seen a ring on his hand at the bar, and yet I was living proof of how many men failed to keep their marital vows.
“Are you married?”
He blinked. “No. Are you?”
I studied him, searching his eyes. He had a trustworthy face, but I’d been around politicians enough to know how little that meant.
I grabbed his left hand, staring at his ring finger, looking for a tan line, something to prove he was lying.
He shook his head, his tone wry. “I’m not married. No girlfriend. I haven’t had a girlfriend in months, almost a year. You?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend, either,” I joked.
“I’m serious. Boyfriend?”
His jaw dropped. “You’ve never had a boyfriend?”
I didn’t know why people had this reaction. I was twenty-one, hardly a spinster. Their reaction was even more comical when I explained I didn’t want one.
“Are you a virgin?” The word came out in a strangled gasp.
I laughed. “No.” My voice dropped to a mock whisper. “Are you?”
He shot me a look.
I shrugged. “That settles it then. Neither one of us is a virgin.”
“Wait a second.” He tugged on my hand, bringing me against his side.
I stared up at him. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “I need a minute. I came here for a drink, and it’s like we went from zero-to-sixty in no time at all.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I don’t do this. Ever. I don’t pick up girls in bars. I don’t have one-night stands.”
I met his gaze, my playfulness erased with his words. “Neither do I.”
“And yet here we are.”
I closed my eyes. “And yet here we are.”
“This is crazy.”
It was crazy—totally, utterly, crazy. And it felt too good to resist.
I stood up on my toes, leaning my body into his. I wanted to kiss him, but something held me back. I was starting to think his would be the sort of kiss best done in private, in the darkness, where he could strip me bare. So instead I settled for brushing my mouth against the base of his throat, leaving a swift kiss there, inhaling his scent, reveling in the feel of his body against mine. I wanted this more than the reasons why I should talk myself out of it.
I pulled back, but Will caught me, his hands holding me still against his body. His mouth hovered near my ear, his touch sending a thrill down my spine.
“I want to fuck you all night.”
My jaw dropped. He said the words casually, releasing me as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just said the single hottest thing I’d ever heard. It was a promise, and a challenge, and a dare all rolled into one heart-stopping sentence that made me want to collect on every single word.
There had been three guys before tonight. My first was my best friend in high school. He’d been sweet, and funny, and by senior year neither one of us had done it, and we’d both wondered what we were missing, so we’d said “what the hell,” which in hindsight had probably not been the most earth-shattering way to lose my virginity, but it had been comfortable, and my experience could have likely been a lot worse.
Two and three had been repeats in college, artistic types who played the guitar afterward and doodled on my skin with a pen. They’d been nice guys, and the sex had been fine, but that was it—it had just been fine.
No one had ever made me feel like they had to have me. No one had ever told me they wanted to fuck me. No one had ever made me believe it. Of course, I’d never been this reckless, either.
Now that we were out on the street, swallowed up in the hustle and bustle of D.C., I held his hand. I was afraid if I let go, one or both of us would wake up and question what we were doing. My brain warned me none of this was a good idea, but my body told my head to shut up and go along for the ride.
“So where are we headed?” he asked.
I struggled to think over the pounding of my heart. “Well, we could go back to my place, but I have a roommate.”
He hesitated, and for a minute I felt really young. “I have a town house in Alexandria. If you’re not comfortable, I understand.”
My lips twitched. I loved that the guy who just said he would fuck me was now unfailingly polite.
“You mean if you’re a serial killer or something?”
“Something like that.”
“Hank vouched for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “When did he do that?”
I grinned. “He wouldn’t have let me leave with you if he didn’t know you were a good guy. Hank knows everyone.”
“And how do you know Hank?”
“He served me my first Shirley Temple. He’s known me my whole life. Trust me, if you’d been a bad bet, Hank would have told me.”
A cab pulled up behind us, and Will stared down at me, his hand on my elbow holding me back.
“Why me?” His voice was quiet, but I saw the question in his eyes, could hear the confusion in his voice.
I could have given him a lot of answers. I could have teased him, flattered him. I could have evaded his question with little to no effort. Instead, I settled for honesty.
“Because when you touched me, I had to have more.”
I turned around and got into the cab.
Senator Reynolds seems to have taken young Mr. Clayton under his wing. What’s that saying about “the company you keep?”
—Capital Confessions blog
I hadn’t even kissed her.
The thought kept running through my mind as I sat next to her in the cab, her leg grazing mine. Her hands were folded in her lap, her gaze trained out the window. Part of me wanted to tell the cab driver to turn around and take us back to the hotel. Part of me was wondering if this was turning out to be the stupidest decision of my life. And part of me was too far gone to care.
This was risky. On one hand I was single, so having sex shouldn’t exactly be front-page news. But the Capital Confessions mention this morning made me nervous. I was young to be running for the Virginia Senate and I needed to keep my nose clean.
We turned, the familiar sight of trees and cobblestone streets greeting me. I wondered which part of town she lived in, where she went to school. I knew very little about her, and yet I felt like I knew her intimately. Or at least I would know her intimately.
The cab came to a stop in front of my town house. “We’re here.”
I paid the driver quickly, hoping she wasn’t going to argue over the bill. I followed her out of the cab and led her to my front door, the pounding in my chest intensifying with each step.
I’d thought about taking her to a hotel, booking a room at the Hay-Adams, preserving the anonymity of tonight. But it felt rude, and seedy, and tacky. And ever since I’d seen her, the image of all that long, blonde hair laid out on my navy pillows had imprinted on my brain. So here we were.
Jackie was silent while I unlocked the door and punched in the alarm code. She followed me in, her gaze traveling around the town house, taking in the décor.
“Nice place for a single guy.”
I actually felt myself blushing. “My mom decorated it.”
She shot me an incredulous look.
“She likes decorating.” Maybe my voice sounded a touch defensive . . . whatever.
“And your mom’s in Connecticut? Let me guess, Greenwich?”
I nodded. “Yeah, but she grew up in Virginia.” I held her gaze. “To avoid you busting my balls over it all night, yes, I’m filthy rich. Yes, I was born with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth, and yes, my mother is probably a little too involved in my life. But I like my mother, and I’m her only son, so occasionally I do things like let her decorate because it makes her happy and—”
She kissed me.
Her lips were cool, hesitant at first, then bolder. She pressed against my mouth, her tongue darting out, grazing mine. She sucked on my bottom lip with her teeth, running her tongue against it. We stood apart, our mouths the only part where our bodies touched.
I just stood there while Jackie kissed me, caught off guard, powerless to do anything expect drown in the sensation of her mouth on mine. And then I couldn’t take it anymore and I reached out, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her against my body. Hard.
There was something to be said for playing lacrosse. A lot to be said for playing lacrosse.
His body was all muscle—hard, lean, a little bulkier than I normally would have liked, but the kind of bulky that made you feel small, and feminine, and you were too fucking turned on to care if that was a good or bad thing. He wasn’t my type, not by a long shot, but he was definitely going to be the best sex I’d ever had.
There had been a moment when I was in control, a moment when he let me kiss him, but then it was gone, erased by the pressure of his mouth against mine, his hands molding my curves, his hard body leaning into mine, giving me a preview of what it would be like when he was inside me.
His touch wasn’t gentle or light, not at all what I expected after his earlier embarrassment and awkwardness. He held me and touched me like a man who knew exactly what to do with his hands, exactly what his body needed. He caressed me like a man who was going to give me an orgasm I’d never forget.
I’d felt in control the whole night—well, most of the night—but when he touched me, everything changed.
Will broke away for a minute, his hands fumbling with my jacket buttons. He pushed the fabric from my shoulders, pulling it down until it fell to the floor. Underneath I wore a low-cut ivory silk shirt. He stared down at my breasts, his gaze penetrating.
My nipples were hard points, visible through my lacy bra and thin silk top. I flushed, warmth flooding my body. There was something about the way he looked at me. I was used to quick sex, fun and fast. But no one had ever stared at me before. Not like this. Not like they were memorizing the shape of my body. I felt a ridiculous urge to cross my arms over my chest, to move away. I felt shy, and that was definitely a first.
He reached out, his fingertip grazing my nipple through the silk. It was the lightest touch and yet it was enough to have me biting back a moan as I pushed my breast into his hand. Who knew gentleness could be the hottest thing of all?
He groaned as he palmed my nipple, fisting his free hand into my hair, tugging on my long, blonde locks. His touch was so many contrasts—gentle and almost reverent, hard and dirty—and I liked them all.
He cupped my breast with his hand, brushing his thumb over my nipple, his gaze intent. My nipples pebbled beneath his touch as he rubbed the silk between his fingers, the soft glide of the fabric against me turning my body into a series of throbbing points, dying for more. He tugged on one and then the other, drawing a direct connection between his hands and the moan they tore from my mouth. And then he lowered his head and captured the bud between his lips and sucked hard, the friction of his hot mouth—his teeth—and the silk, driving me mad.
“You’re really good at this,” I hissed.
He laughed, the sound vibrating against my breast.
Boys that looked like he did weren’t supposed to be this good at it. Boys who wore suits and ties, and let their mothers decorate their homes, were supposed to be into missionary. This was all kinds of freaky naughty, and I so wanted more.
I reached down, running my hands through his hair, stroking his neck, pulling him closer to my body, rubbing up against every inch of his big, hard cock. I wanted him to devour me. I wanted him to never, ever stop touching me.
His mouth left my breast, the cool air hitting me like a shock after the warmth of his mouth. He moved to my waist, tugging at the silk, pulling it out from my skirt. His hand dipped under the fabric, and his knuckles grazed my bare stomach, sending another pull of lust through me. I moaned again, the sound loud and raw, filling the quiet hallway.
“Christ. I want to take my time, but I’m going to lose it if I’m not inside you now.”
I gasped, struggling to form words. “Good, because I can’t take much more foreplay.”
My hands drifted down his neck, running over his shoulders, molding the muscles there, loving the strength and power beneath my hands. I wanted him inside me, hot and hard, filling me, giving me the release I craved. And then I wanted to do it again, all fucking night.
He moved out of my reach, pulling my top up, over my bra, over my head. My hip bumped against the entryway table, knocking over a vase. It hit the floor with a loud crash.
Will ignored it, his gaze riveted to my cleavage. His hands reached out and slipped my bra straps down, off my shoulders, my breasts spilling over the sheer cups.
“I broke your vase,” I mumbled.
“It’s fine.” He reached out, his tongue grazing the sharp line of my collarbone, moving lower. His hands curved under my bra, his head bent as he cupped my breasts, lifting them, his mouth, warm and wet, coming down on me.
My head lolled back, his palm moving to the small of my back, arching me forward, cradling my body in his embrace. My gaze drifted to the ruined vase, the shattered glass on the floor amid a pile of papers that had suffered a similar fate. Pictures of Will in a business suit lay on the floor staring back at me . . . pictures of Will and . . . my gaze narrowed . . . you had to be kidding me . . .
I stared down at my father’s face.
One minute she was trembling in my arms, her body responding to my touch, the next she . . . wasn’t.
I froze, pulling back. Jackie was against the wall in nothing but a bra, her skirt, and heels. Her skin was flushed in all the places my hands and mouth had just been. Her face was pale, the remnants of desire still evident. But her eyes—gone was the light I’d seen at the bar, the mischief that had attracted me in the first place. And all I could think was what the fuck did I do to make that light disappear? I was pretty sure I’d do anything to get it back.
Her eyes opened a bit wider, running over my appearance, focusing on my face, and it was all I could do to not feel like I’d been judged and found wanting.
“Who are you?”
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Loved the characters, enjoyed the book
I'm hooked Capital Confessions was a fun, sexy read. William Clayton is my new man crush. The characters were believable and the writing is excellent. The story keeps moving and I just couldn't put this book down until I finished.
This book is one for the keeper shelves! I really loved Flirting With Scandal, the first book in the Capital Confessions series. I've always enjoyed a romance that mixes in some politics and shows that lifestyle from the inside, and this story was everything I'd hoped for. It was scandalous and super sexy right from the start. It was also a story with a lot of heart. I liked Jackie and Will a lot and wondered how they were going to make it work ultimately. Will was a nice guy with a definite edgy side, and I fell for him hard myself. Okay, I'll admit I swooned big time for his character. If I'm going to read about a good guy who isn't dragging around a lot of angst and baggage, from now on I want him to be just like William Clayton! I loved how Will really felt that he could be his true self with Jackie and fought for her throughout the book, not giving in to her fears. And holy moly their chemistry was intense from the get go. This author can write seriously amazing love scenes! The details, the heat, I could go on and on. I understood how they couldn't keep their hands off each other! I'm really looking forward to reading the next book in this series, featuring Blair. Hopefully Will and Jackie will make an appearance. I'm so glad to have found another author whose writing I love!
4 - "There's no crying in politics." Stars! Flirting With Scandal is the first book I have read by Chanel Cleeton, and if the rest of the Capital Confessions series is as entertaining, she has got a new fan for life in me. ”This one looks like trouble” I think there is a fine line when you are writing a romance story set in a specific arena, politics, medical and technical backgrounds can be tricky to get right, and there is a risk the story gets bogged down with the over inclusion and explanation of things relative to the trope. Chanel hit this just right for me, as although it was very clear from the offset that Will and Jackie’s story and romance is built and based around an election campaign, the story between them still flows smoothly and isn’t muddied by too much political jargon and back-story. ”If I’m flocking you, no one else is.” I love a sexy preppy guy, who behind closed doors turns in to a dirty mouthed bad boy. The author balanced this out with Will perfectly, All-American to his potential voters, All-Sexy when it came to his time with Jackie. ”Just so we’re clear, I’m here because I want to. No other reason.” Good because I’m not planning on letting you go.” Jackie has a little wobble around the 75% mark, which had my rolling my eyes a tad, the author took what was a really enjoyable and unusual story and erred on the side of predictable for one beat too many for me and I think what dropped a star of my rating was the fact I could see it coming from a mile off , I can see the reasoning behind it, and how it bought things to their inevitable head, but I was hoping that the author would stick with keeping things different, and go for a different route. It only had minimal impact on my enjoyment though, and all in all I found this couple and their story a really entertaining, unusual and original read. ”There’s beauty here, whether you want to admit it or not." Being the first book in the series, doors are opened in this book for future characters, and we get to see a little of and find out a bit about, Blair Reynolds. Her book Playing With Trouble is due in July, and I am looking forward to seeing what story this talented author gives her. ”Now that I’ve had a taste, I want more.” ARC generously provided via Netgalley, and it was my absolute pleasure to provide the above honest review.
Flirting with Scandal is the first book of author Chanel Cleeton’s Capital Confessions series. The romance, politics and scandal drew me in from the beginning to the end. This is a great start to a new series! In Flirting with Scandal we meet Jackie Gardner, a young intern at a powerful political consulting firm. She’s lived in Washington, D.C. all her life and loves the thrill of politics. This is surprising since she is the illegitimate daughter of a very influential senator, a man who has never acknowledged her existence. The anger and pain caused by her parents fuels her drive to succeed. She’s worked hard to put herself through college and is determined to make her career goals. But all her dreams are compromised the moment she meets William Clayton in a hotel bar. Sparks fly immediately until Jackie discovers his true identity, a candidate for the Virginia State Senate. The news quickly douses the heat between Jackie and Will, but fate has more stored for them. When their paths cross again can they ignore their intense chemistry and full-fill their career dreams? Or will they give in to their passion and risk losing everything? You have to read the book to find out! I absolutely loved Flirting With Scandal! The romance between Jackie and Will is intense and passionate. This is written in dual point-of-views so readers get a glimpse at how both characters are affected by their strong connection. I loved how Jackie is intelligent, independent and a hard worker. Washington is a man’s world but Jackie is just as tough and smart as her male competitors. And Will recognizes that in her and respects her drive and passion for her work. Will is the perfect guy! He’s handsome, wealthy, and honest. He wants to make a difference in the world. Flirting With Scandal has the perfect combination of steamy sex, drama and emotion that has me wanting more. Author Chanel Cleeton created characters I loved in her International School series and now in this series. Her writing is clear and flows well. The blog posts from Capital Confessions are a fun and creative lead into each chapter. I can’t wait for more in this series!
4.5 stars Flirting with Scandal was such a good read! Every now and then you start reading a book and you know from the first page this is going to be one if those books you can't put down. I loved the characters, the storyline and the chemistry between Jackie and Will was off the charts! I highly recommend this book. Great start to the Capital Confessions series, can't wait to read Blair's story next Playing with Trouble
Chanel Cleeton has done it again, once again weaving a beautiful and exciting world full of passion, intrigue, and emotion. Flirting With Scandal was an incredible story of politics, following your heart, and learning who you are in the midst of the overwhelming chaos around you. This book was filled with well written characters, believable scenarios, and intriguing plot lines. I was so sad when this story ended and I cannot wait for more of this series.Our two main characters are quite different in personality and life experience, but they have one thing in common- they play the game to win. Jackie was such an incredibly wonderful character. She is a woman who has lived a life of secrecy, always observing and working behind the scenes. She is brilliant, beautiful, and a force to be reckoned with. Her tenacity and love of the political game is not a character trait I have really seen in many stories. It was refreshing to see a woman who is strong and determined within the political realm as opposed to the normal scandal type stories of the “other” woman or the seductress. Jackie was full of life and smarts, something that was prevalent throughout the story. I loved how she continually surprised everyone with her dedication and political knowledge. Will was the perfect counterpart to Jackie. He was mature and smooth. His political aspirations were to help people, not have all the power. His pure intentions to help others is a deep connect for our two main characters. Will is not your normal politician. He is ruled by his heart and not his desire for prestige. I loved how both Will and Jackie were strong pillars in the political world. They both wanted to be above the petty games of politics (though they understand the game) and make a difference. Will knows what he wants and will do what he needs to get it. His passion and longing for Jackie is beautiful. He finds in her a partner, someone who makes him better and causes him to fight harder for what he wants and what he believes in. The major themes within the story were some that I was hesitant about when I first heard what the story entailed. I am not big into politics and sometimes the drama and lies surrounding the stories are too much for me. But I trust Chanel and her brilliant writing so I jumped in with both feet. What I found was a story that made me want to be part of a political campaign and see how things work behind the scenes. Chanel takes what could be a good concept and makes it great. There is scandal and secrecy within this story but it is perfectly interwoven with the storyline. There is so much happening but you never feel overwhelmed by the details and drama. Each secondary character is necessary to the story and has a role to fulfill that betters the reading experience. It is a love story between two unlikely characters but Chanel’s writing shows you their deep connection, which in turns makes them perfect for one another. It is a love story yet it is so much more. It is about a strong woman trying to find her place in the political world while keeping her secrets and about a man who is determined to be who he is- true to himself despite the sway of the politics around him. If you love Chanel’s writing, then prepare yourself to be astounded (even though you expected nothing less) and in love with Flirting With Scandal. This book is refreshing and this story will take you deep into a world where grey is the norm and love comes at a cost. I am so excited to see what else happens in the Capital Confessions series and hoping to see some more of the other secondary characters from this book!
4.5 Stars! Flirting with Scandal by Chanel Cleeton is the first installment in her brand new political trilogy, Capital Confessions. Each book focuses on one of three sisters that live and breathe the political scene in Washington DC. This story is all about twenty-one year old Jackie Gardner, the illegitimate daughter of a powerful senator. She loves politics and truly excels in her internship as a political consultant for Will Clayton, Virginia State Senate hopeful. Jackie is smart, politically savvy and hot. With the exception of his age of twenty-six, Will is the perfect candidate for an elected office. He is smart, good-looking, and understands the needs of his constituents. In a nutshell, he is the total package. He is charismatic and knows how to keep his nose clean and clear of any scandal, that is until he meets and falls in love with Jackie. Jackie turns out to be the love of his life and their chemistry is amazing. Wow, what a political scorcher. I really liked this book and Ms. Cleeton truly has a gift with writing political scandal. I was on the edge of my seat for most of the second half. However, as much as I enjoyed this story, I found Jackie's age and position, in conjunction with the responsibility she is given in Will's campaign, difficult to believe. Nevertheless, this is both a compelling and passionate love story. Ms. Cleeton perfectly combines heat, drama and angst into this fast-paced romantic read. Overall, this is a well-written, emotionally charged book, and I highly recommend it to anyone who likes to read an awe-inspiring love story. I can't wait for book two in the series! Complimentary copy provided by the publisher via NetGalley.
I fell in love with Chanel Cleeton and her books ever since I have read her International School series that had her name permanently imprinted on my favorite author’s list. This time, she gives us a new, deliciously sinful, sexy and scandal-filled series that will take DC by storm. I am completely, irrevocably in love with it. It’s those witty and romantic dialogues that will have you smiling and swooning. You keep on looking forward on what’s next anticipating the scandal that is about to blow up in the pages. JACKIE: She looked like trouble – the kind you couldn’t wait to get into. She’s absolutely fabulous, the kind of woman you would love and would love to give that comforting hug for everything she had been through. For years, she worked her a** off, and despite the fact she has a lot on her plate, and some skeletons on her closet. Not to mention, she had been working so, so hard not to turn into her mother. She has walls as high and as sturdy as the Great Wall of China, and it would take a lot of effort to bring those walls down. She was the dirty little secret of one of the most popular senators in DC, she grew up watching scandals unfold in her midst. Now, she found and internship in one of the most sought after political consulting firm. She was good at what she does, now if only she can fight temptation. I’m not a child who gets bored with his toys after five minutes. If the guys you’ve been with treat you like that, then you’ve been screwing around with boys. Wouldn’t you rather f*** a man? William Andrew Clayton was the next big thing in politics. Being one of the youngest candidates for the senatorial race, he wasn’t new to politics. He already knows what to expect, but still the campaign was taking a toll on him. It didn’t help that political blog, Capital Confessions was on him as well. He needed to know what he needed to do: work harder, play discreetly and most of all, avoid scandal. He’s the complete package, the boyfriend material: smart, sexy, crazy good in bed and not to mention he says the right things. If Jackie was afraid of commitment, he wasn’t. He was brave enough to plunge into the emotions and risk everything – but question is, will she ever be ready? I want you to be scared. I want things to be messy, and complicated, and difficult. I want you to feel, and I want you to know I’m the one making you feel, that I’m the one making it mean something. Chanel Cleeton had surpassed expectations with this novel. I love the combination of romance, steam with a dash of politics and scandal – this book was a great start to the series I’m sure everyone would look forward too.
“He called this romance; I called it the scariest f***ing thing that ever happened to me. He should have come with a warning label–Caution: Seems harmless, will turn your life upside down until you don’t know which was is up.” I love, love, loved this book! What a great read! This is my first book by author Chanel Cleeton and it won’t be my last! Flirting With Scandal had a very intriguing plot. I loved how this story mixed politics and romance. I was hooked on Jackie and Will from the moment their characters were introduced. Their chemistry was instant and scorching. The sexual tension between the two of them was so palpable. Jackie is smart, independent and strong. She doesn’t want to let her past or who her family is, dictate her life. Will….he really took me by surprise. At first, I saw him as the preppy, rich, political type. However, there was so much more behind Will. Jackie brought out this whole other side to him. With Jackie, he became this hot, dirty mouthed, takes what he wants, Alpha male and I couldn’t get enough of it. Flirting With Scandal is told from dual points of view. It is a smart, fun, sexy read. It was well-written and I couldn’t read the pages fast enough. I was completely captivated. This book was such a breath of fresh air for me. It had all the elements I look for in a good read and more: Sex, Drama, Angst, and Romance. The Politics and “Forbidden Romance” was an excellent bonus. I think the Capital Confessions series is off to a really great start. I can’t wait to see what the next book will bring!* I was provided an ARC copy of this book via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review*
I’ve been anxious to read this book since I first heard about it because a) I love Chanel Cleeton’s books, b) it’s set in DC and not nearly enough books in genres I enjoy are, c) two words: political scandal, and d) forbidden romance. And holy crap, y’all, it was everything I wanted and more. Chanel’s foray into adult contemporary romance was a HUGE winner for me. I really enjoyed Jackie and Will’s story. I was absolutely hooked on the idea of them from their very first meeting. The sexual tension between them snap, crackled and popped and I couldn’t wait for the big payoff. These two had chemistry in spades. Of course, things were also complicated between them because of who they were and who they associated with. Plus, Will’s very much in the public eye … and there’s that pesky Capital Confessions blog to worry about. ;) Still, Jackie and Will found it impossible to stay away from each other and I’m glad. They were smoking hot together. Things were never going to be easy, but what they shared was worth the fight. This book was just SO… DC. (I work in DC, but thankfully not IN politics. The organization I work for does have a political agenda, but I’m not involved in the nitty gritty. I do, however, hear a good deal of it from friends and coworkers, so I feel justified in making that statement.) The secrets, the lies, the shady politicians and backroom deals. SO DC. I’m always fascinated by the way policy is really set and how people are elected, but I prefer to observe from the outside. I could never actually work in politics. But damn, do I love watching TV shows and reading books about it. It’s so satisfying when a book you’ve been anticipating lives up to every single expectation you’ve built up for it. And trust me, I build expectations high, y’all. It frequently comes back to bite me in the ass. Not with Flirting with Scandal Though. This was perfect. Sexy, scandalous and even sweet. It read like a TV show and I could picture it all unfolding before my eyes. And yes, I would absolutely tune in to watch this on a weekly basis. I loved the characters and can’t wait for more from some of the secondary characters. Starting, of course, with Blair in Playing with Trouble. I received a copy of this book from the publisher, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.
This was my first book from Chanel Cleeton but it will definitely not be the last. I loved everything about Flirting with Scandal – from the way the author developed her characters to how the plot unfolded. It was carefully crafted and completely intriguing. From the moment Jackie and Will saw each other from across the bar room, I was hooked. Every scene between Will and Jackie is filled with quick wit and sexual banter – their verbal foreplay is incredible. Their flirting made me swoon and I loved this couple. You feel their connection because it is intense and slightly erotic. However, their illicit affair and Jackie’s not so hidden secrets about her past constantly puts Will’s election in jeopardy. It’s all consuming. You’re completely drawn into their romance, the drama of Washington DC’s political scene and it all leaves you on the edge of your seat. You are wondering where their romance will go and when it’s over, you’re desperately craving more. I thought Flirting with Scandal was an amazing romantic political book and I suggest you immediately purchase it. It’s a sexy, fast paced read that you will absolutely enjoy.