You Break It, You Bought It.

For almost an hour, he kept her talking. Some of his questions were directed toward finding out more about her marriage. This wasn't his first rodeo. Hell, in high school he'd actually seduced the mother of one of his friends. He considered it his crowning achievement. She didn't look like Michelle, though.

By asking questions about her husband and her marriage, he was hoping to hear some disappointment or maybe a little anger in her voice, but there was none. She seemed to be perfectly happy with her home life and marriage. That's all right, he told himself, it just makes her a little bigger challenge.

Michelle saw nothing wrong with having lunch with Clay and brought it up over dinner.

"I had lunch with Clay Bartlett today. He..."

"Isn't that the guy you said you couldn't stand?"

"Yeah, well, you were right. He's not the jerk he was in high school. Anyway, he asked if you'd be interested in taking some campaign photos of Terry."

"Mmm, I don't know. I'll have to think about that. You know me and politicians. I haven't met one yet that I liked."

"Well, think about it. I mean, you can make some extra money, and who knows where it could lead. I know your pictures would be a lot better than the ones they have now. Maybe some other candidates would want pictures, too. We could put the money in our house fund."

"Yeah," he said, looking contemplative. "Why were you having lunch with him?"

"Ah," maybe she shouldn't mention the lunch, she thought. "He stopped by the paper with some poll results just as I was headed to DeMar's. He asked if we could go over the numbers so I said let's do it over lunch. Why?" she asked, looking at Adam with a worried expression. "You're not mad, are you?"

"No, of course I'm not mad. I was just curious as to how you two wound up having lunch together, that's all."

Michelle gave him a reassuring smile. "Well, it wasn't anything planned, believe me."

He did believe her. He was familiar with DeMar's. On a couple of occasions when there was a delay of some kind at the studio, he was able to steal some time and meet Michelle there for lunch. It was most definitely not the kind of place you'd take a date.

"Well," she asked, "what do you think?"

"I'm considering it. It would have to be on a weekend if I did it."

"I know. I don't think that would be a problem, honey, but I'll ask the next time I see him." It was a flimsy excuse, but it was an excuse to see Clay again.

Two days later, she took a detour as she made her way back to the paper from an assignment. Clay heard her voice from the back room when she asked one of the volunteers if he was in. He immediately dropped what he was doing and appeared in the doorway.

"Hi, Michelle, I'm here," he said with a big smile, "I'm always here. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Ah," only then did she realize how weak her excuse for stopping was going to sound so she embellished a little. "I was driving right by on my way back to the paper and I wanted to talk to you about those pictures."

The grin on Clay's face got a little wider. He wasn't buying it for a minute. She could have called anytime... she wanted to see him again. This was encouraging. "Sure," he said a little beguilingly, "come on back." With that, he turned and disappeared into the back room again.

From the lack of any noise, Michelle suspected there was no one else back there. Every nerve in her body told her she should not go back there, but the temptation was just too great.

There was a big map of Illinois on the far wall with a bunch of pins sticking in it. In the middle of the room were three tables all pushed together, making one big conference table. In the corner were boxes of campaign posters. Clay was sitting on the corner of his desk with one leg up and a big smirk across his face. She knew he saw right through her little ploy about driving right by.

"Well? Did he agree?"

"Huh, oh, not yet but he's thinking about it. He said he'd have to do it on a weekend. I... ah... I just thought I'd stop by and see if that posed any problems."

"Well, weekends are pretty full. That's when most people have off so that's prime canvasing time, but I'm sure we can work something out." He slipped his leg down from the desk and took a couple of steps forward. "Come on," he said, taking her by the elbow. "Let's grab that coffee and see if we can't figure something out."

"Well... wait a minute," she started to protest. "He hasn't even said he'd do it yet."

He already had her halfway through the outer office. "That's okay. If he says yes, we'll have a good idea on how to schedule it."

Michelle sat at a table and watched him as he stood in line, waiting for their coffees. Yes, he was tall, well built and ruggedly handsome, but even sexier was his self-confidence. He looked over and gave her a smile. "I love my husband, I love my husband, I love my husband," she muttered under her breath.

He set both paper cups of hot coffee on the table as he sat down. "So, this Adam of yours, he works Monday through Friday then?"

"Yeah, we have the same hours, eight to four. We both get home at about the same time every night."

"Really, that's nice. My wife and I say hi as we pass each other in the hall."

"What does she do?"

"My wife? She's in real estate."

"What about you?" she asked. "What do you do when you're not running your brother's campaign?"

"I run his construction company," he replied.

"You do? If you run it, what does he do?"

"Sits back and counts his money," Clay chuckled. "I took a sabbatical to run the campaign. When this is all over, it's back to the grindstone; but enough about me, let's talk about you some more."

They talked for another twenty minutes, mostly about her. They were on their way back when Michelle's phone rang. "Shhhhhh," she said, holding her finger up to her pursed lips. "It's my boss," she told him before connecting. "Yeah, Clint?"

"Rogers, where are you?"

"I got stuck in traffic. I'll be there in ten," she responded.

"Well hurry up, we need that story."

This was an opportunity for Clay to show some chivalry. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

"Don't worry about it. Clint's just in one of his moods. I do have to go, though."

"Okay, keep in touch though, okay? Let me know about the pictures."

"I will," she said as she got into her car.

That night at dinner it was Adam who brought the subject up. "I've been thinking about taking those campaign shots. If we can schedule on a weekend, I think I'll do it."

"Really?" All of a sudden, Michelle wasn't so sure she really wanted Adam to meet Clay. Of course, she had no idea of Clay's motives, but she never mentioned his good looks and was a little worried Adam would get jealous over nothing. After all, it wasn't like she was actually ever going to sleep with him.

"Yeah," continued Adam. "I was talking to one of the guys at work about it and he said the going rate for something like that, was six or seven hundred bucks for a couple of hours of work.

"I looked him up on the net. The pictures they have are terrible. The guy owns a construction company and there's not one shot of him at work. That's where I'd shoot him. Show him in action. Show him as a take-charge kind of guy instead of just a bunch of face shots taken against a blank wall. You can't get more boring than that."

She knew if he had given it that much thought he definitely had his mind made up. Oh well, at least it gave her another excuse to see Clay again.

The next day was Friday. If she didn't get a chance to see him she'd have to wait all weekend, but she was stuck in the newsroom. She had to think up some excuse for getting out but she had to check to see if he was even in the office. She headed for the cafeteria for a little privacy. One of the volunteers answered.

"Terry Bartlett campaign headquarters, Audrey speaking."

"Hi, Audrey, this is Michelle Rogers with the Trib..."

"Oh yes, Ms. Rogers, Clay said you might call."

"He did?" He was getting awful sure of himself, she thought.

"Yeah, he said to go ahead and give you his cell phone number."

Michelle grabbed a pen and her notepad. "Okay, shoot." She wrote it down and thanked the young lady, then dialed the number.

"Clay Bartlett."

"Hi, Clay, it's me."

"Hi, gorgeous."

She could hear him smiling through the phone. "Clay, that's hardly a proper way to greet a married lady, you know," she scolded.

"What, because you're married I can't state the obvious? Okay, hi, plain Jane. How's that... better?"

She could hear him chuckling on the other end of the line. "Michelle is just fine," she replied. "Anyway..."

"Keep that thought. I'm pulling up to the paper right now. Meet me downstairs. I'm taking you to lunch."

"Clay..." She realized he'd hung up already. He really was becoming very presumptuous...downright brazen, in fact, but damn, that just made her thighs tingle all the more. She walked back into the newsroom. "Clint, I'm going to lunch."

He was trained on his computer screen, reading someone else's story and making notes in the margins. He just waved his hand without even glancing in her direction.

As soon as she sat down in his convertible, Clay asked how her day was going, and just like that, the conversation centered around her again. Before she knew it, they were pulling up to Plato's Place. It wasn't the Chez Peri, but it was sure a lot nicer than DeMar's.

Once they were seated, a waiter came over asked if they'd like to start with something from the bar.

"Not for me," she stated.

"Michelle, they make the best vodka martinis in the world, here. It must be the olives," he joked.

"I'm working, Clay."

"Oh, come on, one martini isn't going to hurt you." He looked up at the waiter. "I'll tell you what, bring us two martinis. If she doesn't drink it, I will."

The waiter nodded his head and left a couple of menus while he headed for the bar.

"Are you trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?" she joked.

"Would that work?" He was smiling but the look in his eyes told her he was completely serious.

She could feel herself blushing. Afraid of pursuing along that line of conversation, she gave him a nervous little smile and picked up her menu without saying anything more; but then she really didn't need to. The lack of any righteous indignation told him he was making progress.

After ordering, Clay asked, "So?"

She looked perplexed.

"You called me, remember?"

She'd forgotten all about it. "Oh, yeah, Adam said he'll take the photos. He wants to do it at a construction site so he can show Terry as a take-charge kind of person."

"Oh, yeah, great idea, I like your guy already. Okay, let me talk to Terry and we'll get it set up. Saturdays are pretty busy. Will your hubby be okay with doing it on a Sunday?"

"I imagine that'd be okay. I'll have him call and you guys can work it out together."

Just then the waiter returned with their drinks. Without even thinking, Michelle took a sip of the martini. "Oh, you're right, that's good."

Clay just smiled and took a sip of his own. She was starting to follow his lead. He could almost feel his cock slipping into that sweet pussy.

She was twenty minutes late getting back to work, but Clint didn't even notice, or if he did, he didn't say anything. That night she gave Clay's number to Adam and told him to call and set up the shoot.

When they met the following Sunday, Clay was disappointed. Adam was tall, good looking, and well built, not at all what he envisioned a photographer should look like. He was pleased to see Michelle had tagged along though. He also recruited one of the company's supervisors to be in a few of the shots with his brother, so while Adam, Terry, and the supervisor were busy, he kept Michelle company.

They were both standing on the sidelines watching when Clay leaned slightly toward Michele and spoke quietly. "Your husband looks pretty fit. You think he can take me?"

"Take you? Why would he have to take you?"

"Because standing this close to you is giving me an uncontrollable urge to reach over and grab your ass."

Michelle was only slightly shocked. She knew when she was being played. The restaurant, the personal access to the campaign she'd been getting, she was a smart lady and knew exactly what he was after. Still, it was exciting to think that after all the years that had past, she could have him if she wanted him. It was flattering. Inwardly, she laughed, knowing she was essentially playing him. She had no intention of cheating on Adam, but it was fun to play along. "Well, you better control yourself," she replied. "We have a large bookcase at home with two shelves dedicated solely to the boxing trophies he won in college."

"For real?"

"Yes, for real."

"Then I should probably wait and grab your ass at a later date."

"I think that would be wise," she replied, knowing full well that she had just given him permission.

Even though Adam was busy and couldn't hear what they were saying, Clay's leering and attempt at flirting with his wife hadn't escaped his notice. Michelle was an extremely pretty woman and she was more than capable of handling herself, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt he had to say something. He waiting until after dinner and they were relaxing on the couch.

"Clay's in the wrong profession. He should have been a model. He'd make a fortune. You didn't tell me he was so good looking."

"I didn't think it was really necessary. Why--you jealous?" she asked with a smile.

"Should I be?" he replied.

Michelle straightened up and looked at him, not sure if he was serious or not.

"Well," Adam stated, "he's sure taken with you. He never took his eyes off you all afternoon."

"You are jealous. I don't believe it."

"What do I have to be jealous of? You're my wife, not his. I'm just not real crazy about the way he was looking at you. Has he ever tried anything?"

"No, of course not," she flatly denied.

"Ah, huh," he almost sounded like he didn't believe her. "Well, if he hasn't yet, he will, I guarantee it."

"Well if he does I'll slap his face."

"I'd prefer a good swift kick in the balls," he responded.

"Okay, I'll slap his face and kick you in the balls."

"That's not what..." He looked over and saw her big grin. "Come here, wise guy," he said as he reached around and pulled her into him. "My wife, Bob Hope in a skirt."

They both laughed and put their lips together for a kiss. Before they even pulled apart, she was rubbing his crotch. "What do you say, big boy, shall we take this upstairs?"

"What--and miss Colombo?"

"Colombo hasn't been on in years."

"Oh, well, in that case, let's go upstairs," he said with a big smile and a raised eyebrow.

By the time they reached the top landing, they were almost naked. Michelle ran, laughing, and jumped into bed with Adam right on her heels. Neither was in the mood to make slow passionate love. It was going to be a fun night of romping around in the sheets, a lot of laughing and a whole lot of sex.

The next morning Adam thought about the previous night's conversation regarding Clay but didn't think anything more needed to be said.

Over the next couple of weeks, Clay's flirting turned more toward the planning stage. She had given him all the right signals. He was sure he could get her in the sack, but when? His schedule was as flexible as hell, but she worked during the day and went home at night. Both she and Adam had weekends off, so that was out. It was going to take some careful planning, but in the meantime, he would continue his seduction. He dropped by the newspaper and took her to lunch on three more occasions, each time the double-entendres and sexual overtones became more and more prevalent during the conversations.

After the new posters were printed, Michelle stopped by campaign headquarters to pick one up for Adam as a souvenir. By that time, she and the office manager were on a first-name basis. "Hi, Char. Clay called and said the new campaign posters were in. I was hoping I could get one for my husband."

"Hi, Michelle. Clay's in the backroom. He has all the posters back there."

"Is it okay to go back there?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure what he's doing, but he's alone. Go on back."

"Thanks, Char."

Clay was sitting at the conference table, intently scrutinizing the paperwork in front of him. He didn't even hear her come in.

"What're you doing?"

He looked up and smiled. "Just going over Terry's itinerary for the next couple of weeks.

"Well, I won't bother you. I just came to see if I can get one of the posters for Adam."

"Oh, you're no bother at all," he said while standing. He took her by the elbow and walked her over to the table. "Here, have a seat. We actually used three of Adam's shots for three different posters, but I haven't had a chance to open the boxes yet. You wait here and I'll get one of each for you."

Clay walked over to several cardboard boxes sitting in the corner, took out a penknife, and slit open the ones on top. After rummaging through them for a couple of minutes, he walked over with the various posters and spread them out on the table in front of Michelle. "Your husband's not a bad photographer."

"Well, I hope not, since he does it for a living." She pushed her chair away from the table. "Well," she said as she stood up, "I'll let you get back to work."

As she slightly bent over to pick up the posters, Clay waited until she had them in her hands before reaching over grabbing her lower ass cheek and squeezing. She whipped around so fast she almost hit him in the face with the posters.

"What the hell..."

He shushed her with his index finger to his lips before she finished. "Shhhhh," Char will hear you," he whispered.

She still had a shocked expression as she replied. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What," he said with a devilish grin. "You said I could."

"I never anything of the kind."

"Sure you did... remember, the day we took those shots."

Michelle thought back. "I never said you could grab my ass."

He was still wearing that smug grin on his face. "I said I wanted to grab your ass. You said I'd have to wait because of Adam. Well, I waited as long as I could."

Try as she did, Michelle couldn't keep the corners of her mouth from turning up just a hair.

As imperceptible as it was, her reluctant little smile didn't escape Clay's awareness. His fine-tuned predatory instincts told him it was time to tighten things up. "Come on, Michelle, when are we going to stop playing games. Admit it, you want me as badly as I want you."

Michelle could almost feel herself flustering as her emotions impersonated a rollercoaster. Her body was telling her one thing while her brain was in total disagreement. Her heart was pounding and she could feel the moisture building in her panties. The desire to rip his clothes off and fuck him right there on the table was almost animalistic.

Michelle gathered all the resolve she could marshal. "Clay, don't be ridiculous. You have a wife and a couple of kids. I'm a happily married woman. The flirting was fun but it can't go any further than that."

"I'm not being ridiculous, Michelle. I'm not talking about divorcing our spouses or falling in love. I'm talking about a one time, no holds barred, fuck-fest--just you and me. I want to feel that naked little body of yours under me. I want to literally devour you, body and soul for one afternoon; a one-time experience that'll be our secret and that both of us will never forget."

She was so hot and horny, she could barely speak. "I... I can't. If we got caught..."

"We won't get caught? I don't want that any more than you do." He thought about his brother's upcoming scheduled events. "What if I could guarantee we wouldn't get caught?"