His Rise to Power: Book 1

by Fawkes, Tasha

  An alarm sounded, and Rachel pulled out her phone. “Unfortunately, I’m going to have to fall apart later. I’m subbing in at the sports center for the rest of the day. We’ll get started on that report on Monday.”

  I’d given her tomorrow off so she could have a three-day weekend. Rachel deserved it. “All right, I’ll call in a little bit.”

  Alone in the warehouse, I walked around for a bit. In my mind, I could picture it when it was finished. Kids on their pianos and trumpets. Singers belting out their favorite tunes. Sketchers seated at the window as they drew city landscapes. Writers curled up in the corner, drafting their poems and novels.

  Safe, for the moment, from the violence and abuse and cruelty of the city.

  With a happy sigh, I hurried from the warehouse and locked the door as I left. Turning around, I gasped when I realized I wasn’t alone.

  “Miss Blythe,” Hirsh greeted me quietly. Tall and dressed in an expensive three-piece gray suit, he wore a solemn expression that intimidated me. For an older man, he was still handsome and kept himself in shape. When we were working together, I found him charming and easy to be around.

  I didn’t sense any of that charm now.

  “Mr. Hirsh. Is there a reason that you’ve tracked me down to an abandoned warehouse?” I said as I pressed my back against the door.

  To his credit, he immediately stepped away. “My apologies, Miss Hemsey, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve made several inquiries to your office, but I haven’t heard back from you.”

  “I guess now you know how it feels,” I muttered as I tried to side step him. He blocked my path. “What? Have you decided that my recent success means that you want to partner up with me again? Let me save you the time. I’m not interested.”

  His dark eyes grew cold, and he stared daggers at me. “Don’t mistake me, Miss Hemsey. I made you the success that you are today. If it were not for me, you’d still be begging for scraps on behalf of your charity. I helped you when no one else would.”

  “You helped me so you could try and whore me out to your good friend Al-Latif.” It was just a guess, but as soon as the accusation was out there, he jerked back, and I knew that I was spot-on. Hirsh never gave a damn about me or my company. He simply saw someone that his rich friend might like. “You son of a bitch.”

  Once again, I tried to move around him, but he reached out and grabbed my arm. “Blythe,” he said softly. “You’re only partially right. I knew that Al-Latif would like you, but he’s not my friend. He uses me just like he uses everyone else. He saw you the first time that you approached me and urged me to build you up.”

  “So that I’d be ruined if I turned him down?”

  Hirsh hesitated, and I saw the truth in his expression. “I didn’t know for sure…”

  “Bullshit,” I hissed as I jerked away. “You did know. I bet you two have done this before. You’re his fucking pimp. Well, I didn’t fall for it, and as you can see, I’m not ruined. I’m better than ever, and I don’t need you.”

  Having nothing more to say to him, I stalked toward my car, but he stopped me with just two words.

  “Congressman Drayson.”

  My stomach flipped, and I froze. I heard his footsteps as he walked over to me and stopped just behind me, but I wasn’t brave enough to turn and face him.

  “Contrary to what you believe, Blythe, I did like you, and I’m sorry for what happened. I haven’t been trying to track you down to harass you. I came to warn you. It’s obvious that you’ve developed a relationship with the congressman. It’s only a matter of time before the press finds out. You should know that the congressman is a favorite among some of the most powerful people in DC. He’s young, charming, and ambitious. They won’t let someone like you stand in his way. Or their way.”

  Someone like me? It was like a dagger straight to my heart.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I growled, refusing to go down so easy as I whirled around.

  He regarded me almost sympathetically. “You’re a sweet girl, Blythe, but you’re naïve. End the relationship with the congressman. If you don’t, his supporters will eat you alive, and they’ll take your charity down with you. You don’t stand a chance.”

  “Why would they care?”

  “Wealth marries wealth. Power marries power. It’s all about alliances. Drayson doesn’t know it yet, but his future is already being plotted out. You’re not in it, Blythe. Do the smart thing. Back out now while you can.”

  He walked away, and I hated that I was getting my fears validated by the most surprising individual.

  Twenty-Two

  Jack

  “Car will pick you up at six,” David said. “Even with traffic, you should have time to check in at the hotel before your first meeting. Carl will travel with you, but he’s sending the other guards ahead to take a look at the hotel premises. Are you sure that you don’t want me to go with you?”

  I didn’t respond immediately as I packed up my briefcase for the evening. My mind was on tonight. I’d made the dinner reservations and ordered a bottle of wine to be waiting for us. Flowers. I’d promised her flowers. If I left the office soon, I’d be able to stop by a florist and pick up a gorgeous bouquet.

  Roses. Red. I wasn’t fucking around anymore.

  “Jack. Are you listening?”

  “Hmm. Yeah. Car is picking me up at six.” I hesitated. “Text me the number of the car services. I may need to change a few details.”

  “Like what.”

  Like where I needed to be picked up. I’d already put my suitcase in my car. I was fully prepared to spend the night at Blythe’s apartment if I couldn’t talk her back to mine. I wasn’t about the share that information with David. He was already suspicious enough.

  “You never know. I’ll call you from the car tomorrow, and no, I don’t need you to come with me. I need you at the office here in case I need you to send me something. No wild parties while I’m gone.”

  He snorted and regarded me closely. “You seem to be in a hurry today. Got a hot date?”

  The hottest. “Have a good night, David.” Clapping him on the shoulder, I grabbed my briefcase and hurried out of the office. I was ready for the Jacksonville meeting. More than ready, but my mind was on my date. I wanted to leave Blythe with an impression tonight. I wanted her to miss me while I was gone.

  I wanted her to be mine. Fully.

  After procuring a dozen red roses filled with smaller flowers I didn’t recognize, I climbed up the steps to her apartment and knocked on the door. It was our first date. Not our first outing, but a first real date, and I was strangely nervous about it.

  We weren’t going to talk about her work or my work. We were just going to talk about us, and I would make things very clear about what I wanted.

  The door opened, and she smiled shyly at me. She wore her hair down in curls with one side swept up in an elegant comb. A long-sleeved but slightly low-cut black dress skimmed down her body and stopped just above the knee. A small, single diamond glittered at the hollow of her throat.

  “Jesus,” I murmured as I leaned down and kissed her. First, she stiffened, but she melted against me, and I took full advantage. Dropping the roses off on the table next to us, I ran my hands down her back and skimmed my hands over the curve of her ass. No panty lines meant no panties.

  I was going to take full advantage of that.

  Breaking off the kiss, she pushed back and shook her head. “You’re a bit rusty. You’re supposed to tell me that I look pretty and then hand me the flowers.”

  “I messed up on the flower bit, but I’m pretty sure the kiss and my cock should tell you exactly how I think you look. But if you need the words, you look incredible.”

  “Thank you, and the flowers are beautiful. Let me put them in some water, and then we can go.”

  Closing the door behind me, I watched as she bent down and opened one of the lower cabinets. The dress stretched over her ass and rode up those gorgeous legs. I was tempt
ed to unzip my pants and slide into her, but that probably wasn’t very date-like. After she pulled the vase out and situated the flowers, I walked her out to the limo.

  “No Carl tonight?” she asked as she looked around.

  “I thought a bodyguard might ruin the mood,” I said dryly. My driver opened the door for her, and we slid in. Unlike the last time I had her in the limo, I didn’t sit right next to her. I didn’t trust myself to be that close to her and not have my hands on her. I wanted to be on my best behavior at least until after dinner.

  She smoothed a hand over her dress. It was a movement she often did when she was nervous. “Where are you taking us for dinner?”

  “Songbird Steakhouse.”

  Her eyes widened, and I knew that she was impressed. Songbird Steakhouse was a tiny restaurant in the city that only sat five tables a night, all in separate and private corners. It hosted some of the most amazing voices in the city as entertainment and was hailed as the best steakhouse and most romantic restaurant in the state. They sat only by reservation, and it usually took months to get a table.

  “How?” she whispered. “You just asked me out last night.”

  “You’re not a stand-in if that’s what you’re worried about,” I chuckled. “There’s a private table on the second floor. It sits out on the patio in the back. There are heaters to combat the evening chill, so you don’t have to worry about that. It’s known to very few and only reserved out to certain people.”

  “That’s…insane,” she laughed. “It doesn’t even feel real.”

  Good. I wanted her to remember tonight. I wanted her to feel special because she was special. I didn’t say any of those things out loud.

  Songbird Steakhouse was nestled in the corner of an outside shopping center. It was almost a wasted spot considering that they didn’t take walk-ins, but it was situated down a flagstone path and hidden away by large foliage. We exited the limo, and I wrapped my arm around her waist as I walked her to the restaurant.

  “Blythe?”

  At the sound of her name, she stiffened suddenly in my arms and pulled away. An older couple was approaching us, and I could instantly see her discomfort. Blythe was the spitting image of the older woman.

  “Mom. Dad. What are you doing here?” she asked awkwardly.

  “Shopping for your Aunt Leigh’s birthday,” her mother explained as she looked hesitantly at me. “We picked up some fall decor for Thanksgiving as well.”

  A heavy silence fell between us as her father eyed me up and down. It was obvious that the man knew who I was and just as obvious that he didn’t like me. Blythe finally cleared her throat. “Jack, these are my parents, Peter and Dawn Hemsey. Mom and Dad, this is Congressman Jack Drayson. He’s the reason that the art center is getting funded.”

  “Mr. And Mrs. Hemsey,” I greeted as I shook their hands. Wanting the man’s scowl to go away, I layered on the charm. “Your daughter is a true credit to this city. She’s got some amazing ideas. You must be very proud of her.”

  “We are,” Peter said gruffly. “Where are you two going?”

  “Jack and I have dinner reservations. I’m gearing up to woo the education state agency and mental health services. The congressman has introduced me to some amazing connections,” Blythe explained hurriedly. I whipped my head around and stared at her. While nothing she said had been a lie, she’d deliberately misled her parents into thinking that this was a business meeting when it was anything but.

  Dawn raised an eyebrow. “At Songbird Steakhouse? This must be some celebration.”

  “Just like a Democrat to spend the taxpayers’ money on a lavish dinner,” Peter said darkly.

  Hale had mentioned that they were staunch Republicans. It was clear that her father’s dislike for me was purely political.

  It was just as clear that Blythe was using that dislike to keep the truth from her parents. Was she going to use it to keep a wall between us?

  “Dad,” Blythe hissed. “Don’t be rude.”

  Peter Hemsey didn’t apologize, and I held his challenging gaze. It was her mother who finally cleared her throat. “We don’t want to keep you from your reservation. Blythe, give me a call tomorrow and tell me how the food was. I’ve always wondered.” Taking her husband’s hand, she tugged on it. “Come on, darling.”

  “It was nice to meet you,” I said, keeping my tone respectful. Her father just nodded, and they walked away. Returning my hand to where it belonged, around Blythe’s waist, I tugged her close to me. “What was that about?”

  “We’re going to be late,” she said, ignoring the subject.

  I guessed I got my answer. She was going to use it as bricks for the wall keeping me out.

  Dinner was a disaster. The tension only grew between us, and despite trying to engage her in conversation, I could tell that she was bothered by her parents. She picked at her food and stared off the balcony. By the time it was over, I was more than ready to get her alone and demand to know what was going on.

  When we returned to the limo, I discreetly asked the driver to take the long way back to her apartment. Raising the privacy screen, I sat across from her and set my jaw. “I know something is going on, Blythe. You were uncomfortable when I first came to pick you up, and then seeing your parents made things worse. I know they’re Republicans. I won’t hold it against them.”

  Even though I’d said the last as a joke, her eyes narrowed. “How do you know that? Did you run a background check on me?”

  “No,” I said quietly. “I frankly don’t give a damn, but other people do.”

  “Yeah,” she muttered and tugged on her hair. “Other people care. That’s the problem.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

  “This. All of this!” She swept her arms around the limo. “The romance and the dates. People will absolutely care about this, and they will absolutely have a problem with it.”

  Astonished, I stared at her. “Blythe, I’m not married. There’s no scandal that would keep me from dating you. Unless you’re hiding a husband somewhere.”

  “It’s not a scandal, Jack. It’s expectations. You’re a congressman. You’re probably going to be a senator soon, and then heaven knows what else. You’re supposed to marry someone polished and influential and connected. I’m not that woman. I’m never going to be that woman. I live in a one-bedroom apartment in the crap part of town, and I went to a public school and got a degree in general studies. In your world, I’m a joke.”

  Temper heated my blood. “You are not a fucking joke. Don’t you ever say that,” I hissed. “Where the hell is this coming from?” When she didn’t say anything right away, I leaned forward and gripped the seat. “Blythe. Tell me.”

  “Look, I’ve been thinking about it for a while, okay? How could I not be? But then you wanted to spend your nights with me and ask me on a date, and I thought maybe it didn’t matter, but Hirsh showed up at the warehouse and—”

  “The fuck?” Before I even knew I was going to do it, I reached across and wrapped my hands around her arms. Hauling her onto my lap, I nudged her legs apart until she straddled me and skimmed my hands down her sides. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Hurt me?” She looked a little dazed by the abrupt move and settled her hands on my chest. “Not like that. He wanted to apologize. He knew what Al-Latif was going to do and claimed that he didn’t have a choice, but that’s not the point. He wanted to look out for me. He told me what the reality of having a relationship with you is, and it’s not good. I’m not the type of woman who should be on your arm.”

  “No?” I asked nastily. “So you’re just good enough for me to fuck, but not to marry? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Jesus, Jack.” Eyes wide, Blythe gasped. “Don’t say that.”

  “Why not? That’s exactly what you’re saying about yourself. Nobody makes the decisions about my life but me. I don’t give a fuck about expectations.” Ruthlessly, I shoved the dress up and pressed my hand between h
er legs. “No one is between us, Blythe, except the people that you put there. No one is between us while I slide my fingers inside of you.”

  “Jack…” Her lips fell open, and I took full advantage as I kissed her.

  “No one is between us when you get soaking wet for me,” I muttered as I curved my finger around that spot inside of her that made her pant.

  With my other hand, I unzipped the dress and slid the straps down her shoulders. Pulling down her bra, I blew cool air over her nipple. “No one is between us when I lick you until you’re begging for more,” I groaned as I flicked my tongue over her.

  When she moaned and gasped my name, I eased my finger out of her and unzipped my pants. “And no one is between us when I fuck you, Blythe.” Plunging my cock inside of her, I swallowed her scream and held her tight against me as her muscles clenched around me. “Fuck, ride me, Blythe. Show me what you want.”

  In the tense silence of the car, she rode me desperately and hid her face in my shoulder. I wanted to pull her head back and force her to look at me, but I was too scared of what I would see in her eyes.

  The lust and desire was there. It threatened to burn us alive, but I didn’t want to see the fear that lurked in her face. The fear that told me she might never give herself to me completely.

  “Blythe,” I moaned as she took more and more of me and fucked me hard and fast. “Christ, sweetheart, that’s it. Take it all. Take it all.”

  My fingers dug into her waist. I would probably leave bruises. It was brutal, hard, fast, and when she shuddered around me and came, her own climax unleashed something violent inside of me, and I slammed her so hard against me that she cried out. Over and over again, I gave myself to her until my own orgasm seared through my body as I exploded.

  My first logical thought struck me. Had I hurt her? An apology was right on my lips, but she nuzzled even closer and pressed her lips to my neck.

  Was she telling me that she understood?