Her gaze lingered on the shadow of stubble on his jaw and chin. No tie, he hadn’t shaved before coming to his office, and there was a hint of strain around his mouth and eyes. This definitely wasn’t an emergency hook-up call. Something was off.
She straightened away from the door. “What is it, Stephen? What aren’t you telling me? Is it Jennifer?”
Dark lashes lowered dangerously over piercing blue eyes when she mentioned his sister. “You see her more often than I do, Natasha. Why wouldn’t Jen be okay? Is she behaving recklessly? Following bad examples?”
And there it was. Oh well. She supposed if he wasn’t going to press her up against the wall and take her the way she wanted him to, a fight about his sister was the next best thing. Another way to work out her frustrations.
“She was fine the last time I saw her. And believe me, Senator Finn, there are worse examples for her to follow than mine. But this bit of theater is unnecessary and a little late. Owen beat you to the lecture punch weeks ago.”
After a dinner conversation filled with the usual laughter and sexual innuendo, Stephen’s brother had shocked her with the revelation that he knew all about the activities Jen had begged Jeremy and Tasha to keep secret for months.
To say Owen had been upset was an understatement, though he’d seemed more put out about their lie of omission than his sister’s new lifestyle. Jeremy had been just as stunned as she was at the reveal, and Tasha felt for him. He hated keeping things from Owen, but Jen’s secret hadn’t been his to tell. For that, he’d been thoroughly punished by Owen after she went home.
Jeremy had told her about it the next day and Tasha had to give Owen points for creativity. The man knew how to hand out a punishment.
If he was aware of what Jen had been up to, Stephen and Seamus probably knew as well. The one thing the brothers always agreed on was the importance of protecting their baby sister. Of course, being men, they’d gone about it all wrong.
“I didn’t accept his tongue lashing and I won’t accept yours,” she informed him, though to tell the truth she wouldn’t be opposed to a little tongue lashing from Stephen—in the right setting. “But yes, I’m the evil temptress that took her to the club a few months ago, at her request. I was at her side each time she went back, until she accused me of babysitting and sent me away. I still have a couple of friends keep tabs on her when I’m not around, the same way I would for anyone new to the lifestyle. But Jen’s twenty-five, Stephen—she’s old enough to make her own choices and I’d say she’s earned the right to sow a few wild oats.”
“Practiced that for a while, did you?”
“Maybe,” she shot back. “It doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
She didn’t mention her concern about the amount of oats Jennifer Finn was sowing because, honestly, who was she to judge? Lord knew she’d followed her own passions wherever they led her for years without worrying about the consequences. She’d used the club as a safe haven and an outlet for her frustrations as much as she had for pleasure.
Still, Jennifer was moving fast. Too fast. Racing from one kink to the next as if she had something to prove. As if she were looking desperately for something she couldn’t find. A married couple had been wooing her for the last week or so, trying to persuade her to be their third. The wife, who was well known at the club for her unexpected mood swings and rough play, had been particularly demonstrative. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and Tasha had thought about warning Jen to slow down, but considering how obstinate the Finns could be, that might only encourage her.
Stephen’s mouth tightened and she couldn’t look away from his lips. She wanted to kiss them. Suck on them the way she knew he liked. The way that made him lose control, giving her what she needed.
“She’s old enough to know better,” he said flatly.
“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Tasha scoffed. “Is Owen old enough? Last year you and Seamus were worried he had a sex addiction, and I could tell you stories about him that would curl the toes inside your expensive loafers, Sena—”
“Owen knows enough to keep his lifestyle choices out of the gossip column,” Stephen bit out. “And to my knowledge, he’s never come as close as Jennifer has to being arrested for indecent exposure.”
“Arrested?” Tasha felt a jolt of shock. “When?”
His expression was grim. “Two weeks ago. If our cousin James hadn’t been at the precinct, and if he hadn’t been a friend of the guy who hauled her in…”