Free The Stolen Girl by Samantha Westlake Page A

piece of furniture. “And I’m afraid that there isn’t too much excitement to my story. I grew up in Pennsylvania, not too far from here, and went straight from high school to college to the FBI. I’ve been working cases like this for my entire career; I’m used to them.”
    “You were the oldest child,” Sterling guessed, gazing across at her. From the way she carried herself, her quiet confidence, he drew his assumptions.
    He was rewarded with a nod. “Two younger brothers,” she said. “I was always the older sister who kept them in line, who they looked up to. What about you?”
    “The same,” Sterling responded. “I had a younger sister. We fought a lot when we were younger, but we’ve grown a little closer now that we aren’t forced to share the same bathroom every single morning.”
    The comment, meant as an off-the-cuff joke, drew an unexpected peal of laughter from the senator’s couch companion. Carol clapped her hand over her mouth a moment later, her eyes going wide, but Sterling laughed along with her. It was nice to laugh - for a moment, he wasn’t thinking about the tragedy at hand.
    Carol and Sterling made small talk for several more minutes, but beneath the external layer of chatter, they were both conscious of how they were drawing closer on the couch. Sterling couldn’t put his finger on what exactly about this woman drew him towards her so strongly. She was at least five years his junior, he guessed, but she had a quiet maturity about her, a well-constructed outer shell that still offered occasional, beguiling flashes of the warm soul beneath.
    Finally, as Sterling finished sharing one of his stories about a point in the Senate chambers when two quarreling politicians had nearly broken into fisticuffs, Carol’s hand, descending from covering her mouth to vainly try to hold back laughter, landed on his leg, just above the knee. Like a jolt of electricity, Sterling was acutely aware of its presence there. He didn’t move, fearing that he would dislodge it, and Carol left it there, her fingers lightly grazing against his thigh.
    A minute later, the woman shivered, and Sterling realized that it had grown chilly inside. He had left the windows open, appreciating the afternoon breezes, but the cool night air was lowering the inside temperature. He leaned back, pushing the panel closed on the window behind the couch, and then as he brought his hand back down, he wrapped it around the shivering woman next to him.
    Carol leaned into his arm as it wrapped around her, pressing against his chest. A moment later, she turned her head up towards him, and for a long second, they stopped talking, silently gazing into each other’s eyes.
    This was the moment, Sterling sensed. He shouldn’t. It was a bad idea. But all of his emotions were overwhelming his head, and finally, abruptly, he decided to embrace them. He leaned forward the last inch and softly kissed the woman in his arms.
    Carol’s lips were thick and yielding, softly pressing back against his and parting slightly. Sterling could taste a hint of beer on her breath, but also another taste that was undeniably her, light and feminine. They broke apart only to immediately kiss again, and the woman turned her body further, pressing up against the man.
    Sterling brought his other arm around to encircle her, pulling her up to partly rest on his thigh as they made out. He felt himself slipping back from their combined weight until his head met the arm rest, Carol on top of him. She was surprisingly light and delicate.
    Opening his eyes between kisses, the senator gazed down at the woman astride him. Now, splayed out on top of him, he could definitely see her curves highlighted despite the best intentions of her severe suit. Her ass, elevated slightly, showed a lovely round curve, and when he lowered his gaze a little more he could see her breasts, delicate and high-seated, dangling inside her button-up blouse. The sight provoked a rush of feelings,