“I just don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t respect me and what I do. Or who’s using me to get ahead.”

Kinsey hummed. “Not even for the amazing orgasms, orgasm hog?”

Alex opened her mouth. Closed it. Maybe she’d been looking at this all wrong. What did it matter what she thought of his worldview, his total lack of political correctness, or even his sketchy motives as long as he was delivering the goods in the bedroom, the hallway, or maybe a fire truck? Since when had she become so fussy? If she let things continue as is, she’d be donating her very intact body to medical science with hardly any wear and tear. If this man did it for her like no one else, if he could bring her to orgasm with a couple of blazing looks and a hot mouth sucking her nipples, then why not take advantage?

Darcy spoke to her in the mirror. “While I’d love to see the two of you ride off into the sunset, if it’s going to end in a few weeks anyway, you may as well enjoy it. Hit it and quit it.”

“He has had the hots for you from day one,” Kinsey said over Alex’s other shoulder. “I was with him in that restaurant, the night he spotted you. It was like his world stopped spinning. Even after you almost tanked his mayoralty when you destroyed Cochrane’s car. Even after you made him look like an idiot in that press conference, which he deserved. He’s still here. Wanting in your very expensive panties.”

“You’re the one who’s been down on him all along. Now you’re telling me to jump on board?”

“Orgasms, babe. If you can separate it out, then a little joyride of the cock variety won’t kill you.”

Alex stared at her reflection, relishing the feeling of having slipped into a new skin. You have more control than you think. With a last-minute plump of her breasts, she made sure those puppies were displayed to their best advantage.

Hit it and quit it. What could possibly go wrong?

Eli should have stayed in his armored car.

But it would have looked off if he didn’t meet his date for the evening at her door. It had been so long since he was on a real date, and he had never been on a fake date, but even he knew that shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot while her family buried you with their glares was part and parcel of the experience.

Alexandra lived with Gage, and Wyatt lived next door, so Eli was at a loss to explain why every single one of the Firefightin’ fucking Dempseys, including Beck and Luke, who did not live nearby, was standing in the hallway of her home. Had they taken personal time from work so they could posture and give him the Gypsy stink eye? Were fires raging and drunks going thirsty? From upstairs, he heard shrieking that sounded like Darcy. He assumed Kinsey was up there, as well, because, why the hell not?

Luke looked around and in some unspoken communication, seemed to get the go-ahead to represent the group.

“So, Cooper, we understand there’s some sort of arrangement between you and our sister, this publicity stunt where you vampire-suck her life force and use her for your campaign. We figure she’s a big girl and that’s between the two of you.”

So the “vampire-suck her life force” statement was a bit over the top, but he appreciated that Luke was approaching this with a certain level of maturity. This was no one else’s business, and Alexandra was a grown woman who could handle anything he threw at her. As she had so ably demonstrated when he’d sucked on her heavenly breasts and she came like a rocket.

Against the wall where Luke now stood.

Terminate that line of thinking now, Cooper.

Luke was still droning on. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t give you a little friendly advice. You might be using my sister, but if I hear that you hurt her in any way, shape, or form, then this truce we have going on will be over so quick you won’t even see us comin’ at you. Got it?”

“Luke, stop bullying him,” Eli heard from somewhere above. “That ego of his is exceptionally fragile.”

All eyes fired upward to find a goddess about to descend among mortals.

Christ Jesus.

Eli had seen the dress on a hanger. He’d spent all day imagining her both in and out of the dress. Now the whole package—hair, makeup, that drop-dead-gorgeous body—stole his breath clean away.

The bra he’d chosen had lifted and shaped her stunning breasts into weapons of cock destruction. Her spectacular legs tapered to fuck-me heels; her shapely hips swayed in a manner that could topple governments. Those tattoos on her arms, the brands of her tribe, riled him something royally. She was like the bad girl his mom would have advised him to avoid if she’d lived long enough to see him date. As for the panties . . . ah, the panties. He couldn’t see them except in his mind’s eye. They were pink and lacy, barely a scrap covering the cleft of her perfect ass with frilly wings on either side. Later he would blow on them, watch them flutter under his breath. Watch the gooseflesh he’d raise on her skin as his mouth drew close to where they needed each other most.

He was in danger of getting a not-so-fake hard-on for his fake date in front of her whole damn family. Perhaps if he stared longer at the tattoos, he’d remember that she was the sister and daughter of fallen Dempseys, true Chicago heroes. Unlike the man they were honoring tonight.

Her regal descent complete, she raised expectant eyes to his.

“Hi,” she said, and dragged her bottom lip between her teeth.

Woman, have mercy.

“Alexandra, you look beautiful. I should have no problem palming you off on some quality talent tonight.”

She tipped her nose up. That pleased her. “But let’s go higher than beat cop. Is the police commissioner spoken for?”

“He is, but the deputy commissioner is a free agent. Bad breakup last year, so he should be very susceptible to your particular charms.”

He held out his hand, inviting her under his protection, and his heart cranked out a dangerous beat when she took it and squeezed.

“Have fun,” Darcy said in a singsong voice from the top of the stairs.

Alexandra rolled her eyes and muttered, “Is that likely?”

“Fun is one of my platforms,” Eli said, enjoying the smooth skin of her palm. “After crime prevention and job growth.”

She let loose a husky laugh, then clammed up with a guilty look at her broody brothers.

“Let’s go.” To the rest of them, but especially to a steely eyed Luke Almeida, he said, “Don’t wait up.”

The last time Alex was in the backseat of a car with Eli was two weeks ago after dinner at DeLuca’s, and about two minutes before she came in her hallway. Twice.

Good times.

Sneaking a glance, she found him staring at her with not a small amount of breath-robbing heat. Perhaps he was remembering, too.

She swallowed. “Are you nervous about tonight?”

He hit her with that look, the one that turned her lady parts soft and her nipples hard. “Cops love me. Or I should say, they loved my father.” The resignation in his voice clashed with the hot smolder.

“He was a great man. The city doesn’t forget that kind of thing.”

His lips moved imperceptibly, and she got the impression that he checked a curse.

Maybe he was tired of it coming up. During the last election, it was the talking point above everything else: the issues, his movie star looks, even his military heroics. Barbara Walters had made herself and everyone dewy-eyed when she interviewed him just before Election Day. Eli’s pride in his father had reminded Alex of her love for Sean, invoking a weird commonality with him before they had met. It was why she had voted for him.

Yes, she, Alex Dempsey, had voted for Eli Cooper.

Now, that light in his eyes, the one that shone his pride in his father’s accomplishments and how one man went up against the mob in Chicago and lost, had gone out. It was weird to see him in a bad mood. He seemed to make a living out of presenting a certain face to the world.