I hear my phone ringing in the kitchen where I dropped my purse, but I let it ring. Who cares anyway?
I drink half the glass in one big sip and let it swirl in my brain for a bit. And then I set down my glass and pick up my burger. I manage to eat half of it, but I can’t eat more than that, so I toss it back into the bag and roll it up, destined for the trash.
I drink another glass of wine while I watch the movie wrap up a tragic end that I can’t seem to feel anything for, because I just feel so numb.
I pick up the empty bottle and my glass in one hand and the detritus from my dinner in the other and walk back into the kitchen. I put the glass in the sink and the garbage in the trashcan and recycling before shutting off the lights. Then I head back into the living room, switch off the TV, and head upstairs.
I know there’s no way I can sleep tonight, but still, I should try. I have a big day tomorrow. Somewhere between the deep love the two main characters felt for each other and when the hero drove his car off a cliff, I decided to go on safari in Africa indefinitely. I watched a Bear Grylls show the other night and found it fascinating. Tonight, it sounds like a great life plan. So tomorrow, I’ll give Jake my resignation and then get lost, and if my luck prevails, I’ll be eaten by a hippo by this time next week.
Hope prevails.
I make my way up the stairs, still not bothering to turn on any lights, and head to my bedroom at the back of the house overlooking the backyard. I turn to my dressing table, pull off my sweatshirt, and kick off my sneakers. I’m not going to get ready for bed other than just falling in it, leggings and tanks and all, but not my bra. I reach under the hem behind my back and pulls it up over my head easily before sliding it out from the arm hole of my shirt.
“So boyfriend, huh?” someone says from behind me. “I haven’t been one of those in a long fucking time.”
And just like in the old movie I watched, I let out a scream worthy of Janet Leigh.
“New Social Media Polls Show Fairchild ‘Hottest’ Press Secretary of All Time”
Chapter 7
It’s not as bad as it looks
“Come here,” Ryan says as he lounges back on my bed. I press my palm to my heart to try to slow its fast beat that threatens to burst out of my chest. His eyes lower from my face to my breasts and heat. But I can’t let this happen.
“What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks.
“Not to me.”
“Come here,” he repeats, and I swear my body wants to go to him even though I know I shouldn’t. I can’t. I cannot allow myself to be that woman.
“I met your wife,” I blurt out and wish I hadn’t because of how much vulnerability it shows. Ryan has this hold over me, and we both know it.
He sighs and runs the hand of the not-bandaged arm through his dark hair. “Ex-wife.”
“That’s not what I heard,” I mutter.
“Well, you would have if you hadn’t ran away,” he says. “And you’d have met her husband, Alan. Great guy. Civilian. He’s in IT.”
“IT?”
“Yeah, tech guy,” he explains. “A real computer nerd.”
“A nerd?” I ask stupidly, because I’m so surprised by the idea that Ryan and the beautiful blonde aren’t together. They belong together. They fit in such a perfect way with their gorgeous dark-haired, almost grown children.
“Come here, honey, and I’ll tell you about it,” he says gently.
“I don’t think I should.”
“Why not?” he asks casually, and I don’t think; I just respond, and I do it honestly.
“Because I lose my head when you’re in close proximity.”
“I happen to like you when you lose your head in close proximity to me,” he replies with a smug expression playing about the corners of his mouth.
“You would,” I mumble.
“But I’d also like to explain to you the order of events that led to the demise of my sixteen-year marriage to my high school sweetheart,” he says. “And I’d like to hold you while I do it.”
“Okay,” I agree, because what else do you say to something like that? So I take a hesitant step toward him. And then another. And another until I’m standing right next to my bed.
“Come here,” he says one last time, holding his good arm out, and I curl into his side. “Now, it’s story time. Are you ready?”
“No,” I answer honestly, and I feel his mouth smile against my head as he holds me close.
“Well, I’m going to tell you anyway.”
“I figured as much.”
“I was two years older than Kristen, two grades ahead of her in school. And even though we were young, I knew I was going to marry her,” he says, and I feel something ugly curl in my belly. “That could have been the hormones, but I knew, so I married her the second she graduated and not a moment later. And I moved her into married student housing at A&M. I worked my ass off to graduate a year early, and I was already committed to the Marines. After that, we moved constantly with each new billet. And then came Caleb, who you met. Two years after that, Lacy.”
He said it all like that explained everything, when in actuality, it explained nothing, and I’m left with more questions than answers. Questions I would not now, nor ever, give a voice to, because it isn’t my business, but also because it might just break my heart.
“I was deployed,” he continues, and I can’t help but feel like this is where the fairy tale turns into a nightmare. “Kristen was getting tired of being a full-time single parent with a husband who was never there. I had thought things were fine. She sent the kids back to Texas to be with our families and said she had to work, and she did, but really she was having an affair—not with Alan, but some office douche.”
I glance up at him, expecting to find pain in his eyes, but his face is completely void of emotion.
“One day, when I finally got the chance to call home, she broke down and told me. I wished for a long time after that she hadn’t, because it changed everything. We were broken. I came home, and we tried, but I couldn’t. I would lie in our bed with her at night, and when she turned to me, I would wonder, did he touch her like I did? Did he kiss her neck like I did? And I couldn’t. We were broken, but not because of her affair. We were broken long before that when we let things get to the point that she would turn to someone else.”
“I’m sorry,” I say for lack of anything better.
“Me too,” he says, squeezing his arm tighter around me for a second. “I won’t say it was the best for a while, but we’re still friends, and we managed to raise great kids. Alan works for himself, so when I said I had the opportunity for this job, they all signed on to follow me to D.C.”
“That’s nice.”
“It’s nicer than nice,” he agrees. “We’re a team, and it works.”
“I’m glad you have that,” I tell him, my voice soft.
“I’m glad you like that for me, honey,” he says, and I think story time is over when he turns the tables on me. “Now, let’s talk about what drove you to the hospital scared to death tonight.”
“Story time is over,” I reply, trying to pull away.
“All right, darlin’,” he concedes, and his Texas twang is more pronounced than normal. “I’ll let you make that play… for now, and we can move on to more… pleasurable pastimes.”
“What?”
“I might need a little help getting undressed though.”
“You can’t be serious!” I practically shout. “You were just shot!”
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he says as he begins to shrug out of his T-shirt. “It’s just a little bit more than a flesh wound.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I mumble as I watch him reveal his tan skin and muscle inch by gorgeous inch. “They said you were in surgery.”
“I had to get a little patched up. They didn’t even need to put me under,” he says. “You’re going to have to do all the work though.”
&n
bsp; “Do you really think we should be doing that right after you’ve been shot?”
“Baby, you are exactly what I should be doing right after I get shot.”
I gasp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that after the shitty day I’ve had, I want to something sweet to get the taste of all the ugly out of my mouth,” Ryan says, and he says it looking directly at me. “And that something sweet is you.”
“Me?” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Now take off your clothes.”
“W-w-what are you going to do?” I stammer, because even injured, Ryan’s power and strength emanates from him in waves that fill the room and make me want to do what he asks me to.
“I’m going to lie back here on these pretty silk pillows of yours with all the frills in your girly bed, and you’re going to sit on my face while I eat you,” he says calmly, and by the glimmer in his eyes, I can tell he knows he’s got me. My heart, which had calmed down, is racing again, and with just a few words, he has me clenching my thighs together and my panties wet.
“And then what?” I whisper, and his smile widens.
“And then you’re going to ride my cock until we both come.” And I have to admit I like the sound of that. “And then we’re going to fall asleep in this bed. That is, unless you have other plans.”
“I was going to go on a safari,” I stupidly blurt out.
“Where to?” Ryan asks casually.
“Africa.”
“For how long?”
“Forever,” I admit, wondering why I can’t get my mouth to cease talking, and Ryan throws back his head and laughs. He must have scrambled my last remaining brain cells with his dirty talk.
“Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Take off your clothes before I tear my stitches taking them off for you.”
“Okay.”
“Now would be good.”
My hands shake as I stand and reach for the hem of my tank tops and pull them over my head. I hear Ryan groan as they drop to the floor before I dip my fingertips into the waistband of my leggings, push them down my legs with my panties, and step out of them when they hit the carpet.
I stand in front of him bare and unsure of what to do, which seems ridiculous. This isn’t our first time together, but it is the first time I’ve ever had to take the lead. Before, I was always content to sit back and let Ryan set the tone, but now I can’t help but feel like maybe things are changing, and I won’t know just yet if it’s for worse or for better.
“Come here,” his deep voice rumbles, and I take a step closer. Ryan reaches out with his good arm and takes my hand in his, pulling me close before he places my palm over his crotch and covers my hand with his. He presses down so I can feel the heat and the hardness of him and how much he wants me. “Take my pants off.”
He squeezes my hand over him once more before letting me go. Carefully, I hook my fingers in the front of his jeans and pop the first button and then the next and then the one after that until the neat row of buttons are all undone and I part the worn denim. I swallow as I stare at his miles of tan skin and the dark hair that lightly covers his chest, along with dog tags hanging around his neck. Before, I was with pretty men who preen like peacocks, but lounging in front of me now is a real man. It’s like always having owned house cats and then accidentally letting in a lion.
“Quit playing with me, baby,” he says, and my eyes snap up to meet his. They flicker and spark with an electrical current, and I want to dive into it with my whole body.
I dip my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and feel the heat from his skin where it touches the back of my hands as I drag his pants and boxer briefs down his muscular legs. The dark material slides over the heavy bulge between his legs, and then his cock springs free. It’s long and thick and heavy as its veiny length bobs against his taut belly.
He’s beautiful in a rough and rugged kind of a way, but I still don’t stop until his clothes hit the carpet and he’s left in nothing but his dog tags. He digs his heels into the bed and uses his powerful legs to propel his body down the bed. And when he settles, I place a knee to the bed next to him and then the other.
With his free arm, he grabs my hand and pulls me to move up the bed. Ryan guides me to a spot near his shoulders, and I’m not sure I can do this. I might die of embarrassment.
“Put your hands on the headboard,” he commands, and I grip the iron curls at the top of the bed as he motions for me to place a knee on either side of his head. “Now lower down.”
My bare pussy hovers over his mouth, and my body goes solid. I couldn’t move if I wanted to, and I definitely want to, because I don’t know how to be this woman. In the real world, I can demand and take what I want, but here in the now, with Ryan in my bed, I’m not sure I can.
Before I can put any more thought to it, Ryan grips my hip in his hand and arches up as he licks up my center, making me gasp.
“Come to me,” he rasps as he drops back down to the bed, taking me with him.
“Ryan,” I pant as he holds me tight to his face. He drives his tongue deep inside me before he rolls my clit deep into his mouth.
My fingers whiten where they grip the headboard as he devours me. He growls as I roll my hips in time with his ministrations, and I feel it rumble through me like thunder.
“Yes,” I breathe as I arch my back.
I’m close. I’m so close, but as amazing as this feels, I don’t want it like this. Ryan could have died today, and by some miracle he didn’t. I could let him make me come like this, or I could come with him deep inside me.
“Ryan,” I rasp as I pull up higher on my knees. He grabs me by my hip and pulls me back down to his mouth to take another swipe at me, and I gasp before I drop a hand to cover his at my hip and push up again. “No, baby. I want it with you. I want you inside me.”
“Then have me,” he says.
Carefully, I crawl down his lean body until my thighs straddle his hips, and I rise up until I touch the very tip of him to me and sink all the way down. Ryan arches his back, lifting his hips to thrust the last bit inside me, ripping a moan from my chest. He knifes up to a sitting position so we’re face-to-face and wraps his arm around me.
I circle my arms around his neck, mindful of the tape at his shoulder, and rise up on my knees to take him again. He fills me up completely like this, and if I don’t move, I might die. I work my way up and down his cock, leaning back on my hands, braced on his strong thighs.
His fingers bite into my ass cheek as he leans into me and sucks my nipple deep into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the tip. I drive down onto him as he scrapes his teeth over my flesh and gasp.
“Yes,” I pant as I move faster and faster over him while he licks his way over to my other breast. He then drags his tongue up the column of my neck while he pushes his hand up my spine and grabs my hair, making me dip my head so he can take my mouth.
I push against his chest with the flat of my hand as I rock my hips over him, again and again, faster and faster. The climax that was building before is now all-encompassing, and I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
I tip my head back, losing his mouth, and cry out as I come. Ryan buries his face in my neck, his body wrapped all around me and deep inside me, and he lets out a roar as he comes.
I hold him tight to me as my breath saws in and out of my lungs. And as it always is with Ryan, he manages to make my entire universe draw down to the one point where we connect, where we’re together and we’re everything. That is until he takes it all away and turns my nights cold again.
And he always does.
It’s like a bucket of ice water is dumped over me. I feel my spine straighten and my muscles tighten. And I know Ryan feels the change in me too.
“Jules?” he asks as he pulls his face from my neck after placing a quick but hot kiss to the center of my throat, but I don’t look at him as I climb off his lap and lose his cock.
I race in
to my bathroom and lock the door. I clean up and then stare at myself in the mirror for far too long, not liking what I see one bit. But I know I have to give Ryan the time he needs to find his clothes as he makes my great escape even in his injured state. Today has been too emotional and eye opening all around. I need a break.
When I’ve given him plenty of time to leave, I open the bathroom door and walk out into my room, determined not to cry myself to sleep this time, knowing that once again I’ll be in my room, all alone.
Only, I’m not.
I stop in my tracks halfway across the room, because Ryan is still lounging on my giant stack of pillows. I have pillows with shams that match my comforter, big euro shams, tons of toss pillows, and a delicate little row pillow, all of which he has stacked up behind his head and shoulders. The covers are tossed aside, and I’m lost in the beauty of his strong, nude form when he’s sprawled on my bed. His heavy cock lays soft and glistening against his thigh, and I can’t stop staring.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he warns, but there’s humor in his voice.
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like you like the look of my cock.”
“I was not—” I start to argue, but he interrupts me, and I feel heat hit my cheeks. I feel heat hit me everywhere, because I’m still naked.
“You were.” He laughs. “And I like it. But you can’t look at my cock like that right now, baby, because I’m forty-seven not seventeen. I need time to recover and regroup, so I’ll let you come cuddle me for a bit, and then I’ll fuck you slow.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come here, baby,” he says, holding his hand out to me, and I grab it even though I know I shouldn’t. “You wore me plum out, and I don’t have it in me to watch you get all riled up, not because it’s a deterrent, but because I think you’re sexy as hell when you do, and as I mentioned before, you wore me out and wrung me dry. I need a minute. So don’t make me wanna fuck you right now. Just come and lie down.
His accent is thicker with exhaustion, and I wonder if he intentionally clips it in his everyday life. I have no idea why, because it’s very attractive, so I do the only thing I can.
The Press Secretary's Passion (A Presidential Affair Book 3) Page 7
