His Rise to Power: Book 1

by Fawkes, Tasha

  “I’m currently writing a bill to help build up the Clean Water Act.”

  “Fund underprivileged schools.”

  I grimaced. “I’m sure that you know just as well as I do that some of our schools are a joke. They can’t even afford to give their students textbooks.”

  “You didn’t do much during your first term. That’s why you barely won.”

  She wasn’t wrong even though I hadn’t heard it in such bald terms before. “It wasn’t that I didn’t do much of anything but that I saw push back at every turn. As the new guy, I faced sweeping opposition in the Republican Party and some Democrats who weren’t pleased that I was so young. I won’t make the same mistakes this time.”

  “I believe you,” she said softly and smiled.

  Suddenly, this didn’t feel like a business meeting anymore and very much like an intimate moment. I wanted to stretch it further. Blythe seemed to realize it as well, and her gaze fell back to her salad.

  We made small talk as we finished our meals, and I talked her into dessert. Over a slice of rich chocolate cake and a final glass of wine, the tension between us grew thicker. Finally, I signaled for the check.

  “I think I’m going to take a short walk around the water feature out back to make up for the cake,” I told her as I pulled out my wallet.

  “Oh!” Her eyes widened, and she scrambled for her purse. “This should be my treat. I’m trying to seduce you. Woo you,” she amended hastily.

  “You’re doing an excellent job.” My voice was thick at the idea of her seduction. “But I invited you here, so the meal is on me. You can make it up to me by joining me for a walk.”

  “A walk,” she echoed a little warily.

  “All very public,” I assured her. No way I could pull her into the shadows and see if she was wearing panties under that dress. Well, I could, but not if I didn’t want to send her running screaming from me.

  She was a difficult one to figure out. She wanted me. I could tell. She was single. I was single. There would be no scandal if I pushed to see if things might go somewhere. The biggest problem was that I didn’t have the time to date someone, and I didn’t trust that one night would be enough to satisfy me.

  As we walked out of the restaurant, I put a hand to the small of her back and felt the tremble that traveled down her spine. Her chest heaved, and she inhaled sharply, and I silently cursed. I wanted to talk her into the back of my limo where I could pull her across my lap and sink my cock inside of her.

  “Is Carl joining us?” she asked as she glanced over her shoulder.

  I’d already told my guard to keep to the shadows, but I didn’t want to tell her that I’d planned on sharing a more private moment with her. “He’ll keep an eye out, but he doesn’t need to shadow us so closely.”

  “He doesn’t like me.”

  Blythe sounded almost sullen, and I chuckled as we walked around the corner. “He’s embarrassed that you got so close to me at the bar.” To the side of the restaurant was a strip of small boutique shops that surrounded a large water fountain. Light beneath the water lit up in a brilliant blue that sparkled under the moon. We weren’t isolated. There were other people enjoying the cooler night and the pretty atmosphere, but most people weren’t paying attention to us. We walked in silence.

  Finally, halfway around the fountain where we had a little more privacy, she turned and lifted those stunning gray eyes toward me. “This doesn’t feel very professional,” she said finally.

  “No,” I agreed. “It doesn’t. We have a problem, here, Blythe.”

  “We do?” she whispered.

  With one hand wrapped around her waist, I drew her close to me and stroked the side of her neck. The air grew hot and thick around us as her body barely brushed up against mine. I had to stifle a moan and tap down the instinctive need to move my hands farther down her body and cup that full ass. “I want you.”

  “Oh.”

  “You want me.” Her eyes widened, and I chuckled. “Every emotion is right there on your face, Blythe. The anger in your eyes when you’re yelling at me and the tremble of your lip when you stare at me a little too long. I think about you in ways that I shouldn’t be, and I’m pretty sure that you’re guilty of the same.”

  “I…” she took a deep breath. “I think that just because we want something doesn’t mean that it’s a good idea to follow through. If this affects your decision…”

  “Christ,” I growled and released her. Just like that, she’d pissed me off. “Is that the kind of man you think I am? That I’d demand you spread your legs if you want my support? Maybe I’d throw a little extra your way if I could get you on your knees under my desk?”

  My angry outburst and crude words had her stumbling back, and I grabbed her quickly before she slipped on her high heels and broke her damn ankle. “Easy,” I muttered darkly. “I’m pretty sure there’s a fine if you fall into the fountain, although seeing you all wet might make my night.”

  My attempt at a joke did nothing to ease her stress. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I think maybe it’s a good idea if we just keep this a business relationship,” she said in a small voice as she lowered her gaze.

  Damn it, I’d fucked this all up. I wanted to have a calm conversation with her, and instead, I’d turned our sexual tension into actual tension.

  “Come on. I’ll walk you back to the car.” Not willing to concede to a business only relationship, and not willing to take my hands off her, I kept one planted on her back as we rounded the fountain and turned back to the parking lot. A sort of quiet settled around us that threatened to strangle me. When we got to the car, I tugged on her arm before she could slip away. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Blythe. I can assure you that I am perfectly able to separate my desire from my money. Anything that we decide to do will not affect the other. You have my support. Nothing is going to change that.”

  “I believe that. I really do, but I think for now that I just need to focus on the project. Thank you for dinner and for your support.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” Before I could stop myself, I leaned over and brushed my lips across hers. It was just a whisper of a kiss. I’d simply wanted to feel her soft lips against mine, but the spark between us shocked even me. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened. With a moan, I brushed my thumb across her lips. It took every ounce of my control to drop my hand and reached for the handle of her car. “Get in your car, Blythe, before I decide to see if you taste as sweet as I imagine.”

  Mutely, she opened the door and slipped inside. Stepping back, I waited for her to peel away.

  “Carl,” I muttered. The guard materialized out of the shadows. “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

  “Looks like it.”

  The man sounded way too damn cheerful.

  Ten

  Blythe

  Someone was pounding on my door. Groaning, I opened my eyes and blinked blearily at the clock. It was already ten? How the hell did that happen?

  It probably had to do with the fact that I’d tossed and turned all night, fantasizing about how it would have been if I’d invited Jack into my bed. Even now, I could remember the pressure of his hands on me, drawing me to him, shocking my senses as he blatantly told me how things were.

  I want you.

  Ah, fuck me. This was a disaster.

  The pounding continued, and I heard an angry exchange in the hallway. Crap. My moody neighbors were going to kill Rachel if she didn’t stop. “Coming,” I croaked as I rolled and immediately hit the floor. Instantly awake and groaning as I pulled myself up, I ran a hand through my tangled hair and hurriedly got to my feet.

  By the time I greeted Rachel, other doors along my hall were opening. Grabbing her arm, I yanked her in. “Are you out of your mind? My neighbors are going to hate you!”

  “It’s not exactly early,” she pointed out as she waved a brown paper bag under my nose. The distinctive aroma of cinnamon butter and strawberry jam hit me, and my mouth watered.

&nbs
p; “Are you bribing me with croissants from The French Whisk?” I demanded as I shut the door behind her.

  Sitting the bag and coffee carrier on the table, she just gave me a knowing smile when she opened my cabinet and pulled down two plates. “It’s not a bribe. You’re my friend. I’m being friendly.”

  I eyed the coffee. “Why are there three cups?”

  “I wasn’t sure if you were alone.” Winking at me, she made a dramatic show of backing out of the kitchen and peering into my bedroom. “Bed looks empty.”

  “Of course my bed looks empty. The only person who sleeps in it is me, and I’m standing right in front of you.” Unrolling the bag, I took out the three croissants and plopped them on the plate. Opening the silverware drawer, I grabbed a knife and cut the third croissant in half while I deftly ignored her curious stare.

  She would not be deterred. “So, how did last night go?”

  “It went well.” Opening the tub of jam, I began slathering it on the croissant. It was already flaking in my hand, and my stomach grumbled. “The congressman has already found some grants to help us host a fundraiser, and he thinks I can piggyback on other events to rub elbows with all the right people.”

  “You wore the dress?”

  Lifting my gaze, I arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t sleep with him! Look! Empty bed. It was a business dinner. We talked about business!”

  Until we weren’t talking about business and he was making every inch of my body tingle with need.

  Rachel looked at me with sympathy. “You think this is going to turn out to be another situation like the one that happened at Hirsh’s party.”

  Reaching for the coffee, I glared hard at her. “I told you not to bring that up. I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t think it’s the same situation. Jack has made it clear that the money comes with no obligations or intentions, except for the art center.”

  Her eyes rounded, and I immediately knew what I’d accidentally confessed. Before I could backtrack, she started to clap her hands in glee. “He is so into you! I knew it! Blythe, this is good. So good! He’s hot, he’s single…”

  “He’s a politician. He’s an investor,” I countered, pointing a finger at her. “This is not good. This is bad. Very bad! I can’t get involved with him. Previous experience aside, you can’t mix business with pleasure, and I can already tell that getting involved with Jack is a bad idea because he’s…” I ran out of words.

  “Hot. Single,” Rachel reminded me.

  “More complex than that,” I sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  Because I had no kitchen table, Rachel hopped up on the cleared kitchen counter and picked up her croissant. “You’re afraid that it’s going to be more than sex. What’s wrong with that? We’ve done our homework on him. There are no scandals involving him. He’s got a reputation for being honest and grounded and hardworking.”

  The problem, which I didn’t want to say out loud, was that while he wasn’t involved in a scandal, I had been. It was already bad enough that I was figuratively getting into bed with him without telling him the truth, but to literally get into bed with him while keeping my secret would make me a horrible person. If the media uncovered the truth and blindsided him with it, it could ruin him.

  It could ruin my charity as well, and there was no doubt that someone would discover it. As the new woman on Jack’s arm, they’d do their homework.

  “I don’t have time for a relationship,” I said simply. “And neither does he.”

  “You know, when I first met you, I knew that you were going to do great things for the city of Miami. Passionate. Driven. Stubborn. At no point did I think that you were an idiot until now.”

  “What?” I stared at her.

  Shrugging, she took a sip of her coffee. “It’s okay. We’re still friends. We’ll be friends even when you’re old and lonely.”

  “You’re only forgiven because you brought me croissants and coffee from my favorite bakery,” I said bitterly as I picked up the pastry and stared at it.

  Despite brushing off her harsh words, I felt the full weight of them. Was I over thinking things with Jack? He’d made it clear that there would be a line between the money and his desire, and I believed him. He was the kind of man always in control. That meant that he could separate business and pleasure, but I wasn’t sure that I could.

  He’d asked me about why Hirsh had taken away his support, and I’d lied to him. I had a feeling I knew why Hirsh had withdrawn his support, but I hadn’t expected him to continue his interest in me. A strange chill settled in my stomach. What if Hirsh’s cold shoulder wasn’t the end of it? What if that night continued to follow me?

  “You left the open-house early yesterday, and I didn’t get a chance to talk to you. Thoughts?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.

  Just like that, Rachel was all business. “You can see a pretty thick division of opinion in the community about the art school. Those whose kids are more artistically inclined are definitely interested, but the athletic families are concerned that it’ll pull your attention away from the sports center during a critical juncture. We still haven’t gotten the accreditation approved, as you well know, so they worry about that. Parents of younger children don’t care all that much about the art school either. They’re worried that it’ll take away their kids attention from STEM studies.”

  It was frustrating to get underprivileged communities to see liberal arts as anything more than a luxury. They feared the only way their kids could pave a better life for themselves was through schoolwork or natural athletic abilities, and they weren’t wrong, but the art school wasn’t just about getting them into college. It was about giving them an outlet for their emotions and giving them a safe place to explore themselves a little better. That was such an important part of childhood that couldn’t be ignored.

  “Jack brought up the same thing at dinner. He seems to think that I’m already stretched thin.”

  “You are,” Rachel pointed out.

  “He wants to make sure that we raise enough money so I can hire more staff.”

  “You do need more staff. When a volunteer bows out for whatever reason, you’re the only one who can step in. So, in addition to paperwork and raising money and hosting events, you’re also taking over classes at the sports complex and acting as a babysitter. You need to hire someone to help coordinate the volunteers and manage the sports complex. You need to hire someone to do the same for the arts center. You’re an amazing woman, but even you can’t be in two places at once. I’ll run the numbers.”

  “I don’t know what I would do without you,” I admitted, feeling myself very close to tears.

  “Crash and burn, no doubt.” She grinned and bobbed her eyebrows. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I want to hear all the details about the dinner. What did you eat? Did he try to kiss you? Did he look absolutely delicious?”

  “Well…” Before I could answer, my phone rang. Thankful for the distraction, I hurried to my purse and fumbled inside for my phone.

  “Is it Jack? Is he calling to tell you in that low husky voice of his that he thought of you all night long?” Rachel asked in a singsong voice.

  My belly tightened at the thought, but it wasn’t him. “It’s my parents,” I said tightly.

  “Oh.” She returned her attention back to her croissant when the realization hit. “Oh! You haven’t told them yet.”

  Hating myself for it, I let it go to voicemail. As much as I loved my parents, I wasn’t quite ready to speak to them yet. “Until last night, there wasn’t anything to discuss. I didn’t know if Jack was going to help us.”

  “They’re not going to be happy.”

  No, they weren’t. My staunchly Republican middle-class parents were going to hit the roof if they found out that I was working with a Democrat. “It doesn’t matter. It’s my choice, and I’ve already made it clear that I’m not going to let their political views get in the way.”

  “Whic
h is why you’re not picking up the phone to tell them the good news?” she asked with an innocent smile.

  Sighing, I tossed the phone on the counter. “The croissants and the coffee are only going to incur so much goodwill today.”

  She didn’t look the least bit bothered.

  Eleven

  Jack

  She lay in front of me, wearing nothing but the barest thread of lacy underwear and a white bra that blurred the line of innocence and wicked sin.

  I pushed her thighs apart and reached between her legs to run my finger over the silky material. It was soaking wet.

  Jesus Christ.

  She was gorgeous. Breathtaking. Her pale skin nearly glowed in the low light of the room as she writhed in the twisted sheets of my bed. Her skin was warm and inviting and smelled of peaches and cream.

  I wanted to taste.

  Her mouth first, those full lips so very soft under mine. Then her cheek, her chin, her neck. Taking my time there when she shivered, her fingernails gripping into my shoulders.

  “Please…” she mewled as I moved lower, licking in the valley of her cleavage.

  Bzzzz. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.

  My body vibrated. I pulled the cups of her bra down and ran my tongue over the hardened rosy peaks.

  First, one hardened nipple, then the other, sucking hard before scraping the sensitive flesh with my teeth. She threw her head back as I trailed my tongue down her smooth abdomen and into the hollow of her bellybutton, continuing my path toward the lace of her panties.

  Bzzzz. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.

  Distracted, I blinked and stared at her. She was fading in and out. “Blythe,” I whispered.

  “More,” she moaned. “I want it all.”

  Fuck me. The delicate material offered no protection. It was no obstacle for my tongue. I nibbled my way down it, lapping toward her core as she started to arch, searching for my mouth, needing more. Spreading her thighs farther apart, I dipped my head lower, using my tongue to push aside the meager fabric.