Campaigning for Christopher Read Online Free

her apron pocket for a cocktail napkin, then plucked the glass from the tray, offering it to him.
    “Your drink,” she said, the barest hint of a smile teasing her full, sexy lips.
    Christopher swallowed, willing his gaze not to drop to her full breasts, which strained against the simple black fabric of her uniform. “My . . .?”
    “Your drink?” she repeated in a deep, throaty voice. “Whiskey? No rocks?”
    He reached for it, trying to remember when he had ordered it. Was it possible she’d taken his order and he somehow hadn’t noticed her? No. Impossible.
    “I ordered this? From you?”
    Her lips widened into a smirk, and she laughed softly. “No. I’ve been working the other side of the party. You ordered this from Cassidy, the other server, but she’s on her break.”
    “Oh,” he murmured, still staring at her, feeling the ground shift and dissolve beneath his feet as he drowned in her deep black eyes.
    “Don’t let it get cold, now,” she said, her voice low and smooth, something very suggestive and slightly aggressive in its tone that made his heart beat faster and his blood surge in a primal, insuppressible way.
    “There’s no ice in it,” he somehow managed to say.
    “Maybe not,” she countered, leaning in, close to his ear. “But it was in my hand.”
    Stepping back, she grinned at him, her eyes not quite teasing under thick sable lashes. She blinked them once, slowly, languorously, before turning to walk away.
    Christopher didn’t know how long he stood there—stunned, stupefied, and so fucking turned-on, it would have taken an ice bath to get his body to cool down. Glancing down at his drink, he quickly lifted it to his lips, tilted his head back, and let the entire contents glide down his throat . . . which did nothing but make him hotter.
    “Uhhhh,” he started, darting a quick glance to Jessica and Brooks, who watched with blatant amusement, before looking back at the waitress, who was headed toward the winery. “I, uh . . .”
    Preston’s voice rumbled softly in his ear. “You have to see about a girl?”
    “Fuck, yes,” he murmured, blindly handing off his glass to Preston as he moved, as though pulled by a magnet, to follow the hands-down sexiest woman he’d ever seen.
    It didn’t take long to catch up with her. Just as she reached for the tasting room door, Christopher flattened his palm against it, causing her to turn around in surprise. Her face, which whirled in anger, with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, softened immediately as she realized it was him.
    “Finished your drink?” she asked, glancing at his empty hand.
    “Didn’t want it to get cold.”
    Her lips twitched. “Can I help you with something else?”
    “Yeah,” he said. “You can tell me your name.”
    She grinned at him, letting the empty tray between them fall by her side as she leaned back against the tasting room door. Her eyes were cool and unhurried—full of mystery, like she was in total control of whatever was happening between them and he could take it or leave it. Chris wasn’t a stranger to women throwing themselves at him. And hell, since entering politics, it had only gotten worse. But she was different. The sort of aloof disinterest this waitress seemed to feel toward him only lifted the heat quotient to scorching.
    “Why do you want to know my name?”
    He shrugged, his eyes darting to his hand, still flattened against the door beside her head. If he moved his fingers a centimeter, they’d touch the glossy perfection of her long black hair. He forced them not to. If she could be cool, he could be, too.
    “Do I need a reason?”
    She stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head slowly. “No.”
    “I want to know your name.”
    “All of us want something,” she said softly.
    “I need to know your name.”
    “ Need ?” she purred, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth before letting it go. “Strong word.”
    Suddenly he saw two of her, and he blinked, clenching his