I stared at him, my eyes wide. “You remember that?”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “She was very memorable, due to her boundless enthusiasm, and her charming looks. I told myself at the time, ‘This one’s special. I hope we meet again someday.’ And here you are, working in my office, and having dinner with me. Funny how things work out, don’t they?” His eyes sparkled.
I continued to stare at him. “You really thought that about me?”
“Of course. And I still do.”
The electric buzzing sensation had moved to my head, and I found it hard to form any coherent thoughts. My mind had been unprepared for what he just told me, and couldn’t seem to accept it all.
He stood and held out his hand. “Do you want to take a walk?”
I didn’t reply, but placed my hand in his, feeling his gentle strength envelop me as he pulled me to my feet.
Keeping my hand in his, he led me to the door that opened out onto the promenade. The sun had just gone down, and the evening sky was lit with colors. Through the columns of the balustrade, I could see the sprawling south lawn, with the Ellipse beyond, and the Washington Monument further in the distance, with its red aircraft lights blinking at the top. The breeze was slightly cool.
“You warm enough?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.” My mind was still racing, trying to figure out the end of our conversation inside. It was as if he was trying to tell me something.
We walked west, following the promenade to the end of the residence and then turning right, looking over the famed West Wing. He kept my hand in his, and we walked without talking.
What were we doing here? Somehow, it had become more than the President giving a new intern a tour of the White House. Why was he holding my hand, and how did that fit with what April had told me, about him firing the intern?
What did he want from me? Just friendship? I was naïve, but not that stupid. Did he want to take me to bed? A casual fling with the new intern? I wondered how many others he’d been with. Maybe he’d fired that one because she wouldn’t sleep with him?
And what was I going to do? His touch on my hand had done nothing to quell the desire burning within me, and now my inner fires were almost overwhelming. It took all of my willpower not to stop and press myself into him, letting him know that I was his for the taking. But where would that leave us? After our passion had burned away, would he want me to quit?
We reached the end of the promenade and turned around, walking back the way we came. The sky had faded to black, and the stars began to twinkle on. The cool breeze picked up.
“You still warm enough?” he asked.
“Yes.” I wasn’t, but I knew if I told him the truth, he would take me back inside. I wanted to stay out here, and allow this magical moment to keep on happening. Plus, I knew that once inside, we would have to confront what was happening between us, and that prospect frightened me. I just wanted to keep walking and holding his hand.
We walked past the solarium to the east end of the building, and stopped at the corner, standing close to the balustrade and looking out between the columns. From here we could see the reflecting pool and the Lincoln Memorial, which was lit brightly white. Once again, the historical enormity of where I was, and who I was with, struck me, and I felt a sense of disorientation. This had to be a dream.
He moved behind me, placing his hands on my hips and standing close. Not quite touching, but I could feel the heat of his body against my back. That current of desire in me was now a jagged, sparking line, arcing and crackling across my synapses like miniature lightning bolts. My panties were soaked, and I became acutely aware of their warm, smooth wetness stretching snugly over my mound.
He leaned forward, and I felt his breath against my ear. Exhaling softly, I tilted my head slightly away from him, exposing myself in obvious invitation. He leaned in closer, and now his breath was warm on the skin of my neck, and a shiver of excitement went through me.
Please. I need it.
When his lips brushed lightly against me, just below my earlobe, I startled slightly, and then emitted a soft moan. His kiss became firmer, and his hands pulled me back against him.
I breathed out a soft groan as his body pressed against mine, and then inhaled sharply as I felt his urgent hardness against the small of my back. The world spun and I probably would have collapsed if not for his strong hands on me.
Keeping one hand on my hip, he slid the other around to my stomach, and pulled me tighter to him. At the same time, he shifted his weight forward, pressing me against the unyielding hardness of the balustrade column. It was rough against the skin of my face, but still felt warm from the afternoon sun.
His mouth moved to my earlobe, sucking it between his lips and biting it gently. I groaned again, unable to move, pinned between the stone and his muscular body.
The hand on my hip began to move downward, over the side of my thigh until it reached the hem of my skirt and discovered my bare knee. Without pausing, he began the journey back up, sliding over my skin and pushing up my skirt.
“No,” I mumbled, and made a feeble attempt to push away from the column.
Yes! Oh god, finally yes.
He ignored my plea and moved his hand higher, sliding it around to the smooth, soft skin of my inner thigh.
“Please, no.” I reached down to grip his forearm through his suit jacket, feeling his sinewy muscles underneath, weakly trying to push him away.
Ohhh, you’re almost there. Don’t stop.
His hand reached his destination, cupping my satin-covered mound, finding the ridge of my cleft and pressing his fingers into it.
I had a momentary flash of embarrassment, knowing he was discovering how wet I was, but that was blown away in a whirlwind of desire, as his talented fingers found my clitoris.
“Ooooh,” I breathed, focusing on the exquisite sensation of the slick material sliding over the engorged nub. Waves of pleasure rolled through me, and I gave up all pretenses of not enjoying it.
His hand on my stomach shifted upward, and he cupped my breast. My nipple was already fully erect, and pressed against his palm through my bra and blouse. I moaned again, and the sensations seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, overwhelming me.
His fingers moved to the elastic edge of my panties, and slid underneath, pulling them aside. His knuckles grazed my curls as his fingers rediscovered my slit, this time our skins touching, slick and warm from my copious lubrication. He dipped his fingers into my tender folds and then slid them upwards. I cried out loudly when they bumped over my clit, and he teased over it in small circles, sending jolts of pleasure up my spine.
I gripped his forearm harder, not trying to push him away this time, but instead holding on to steady myself as my body spasmed in his embrace. His lips became more urgent, and I felt his teeth on my skin. He pressed me harder against the column, and the hard length of his erection bore into my back.
My breath was coming in gasps as I felt the stirrings of my orgasm begin deep within me. When his fingers pinched my nipple hard through my clothes, I realized I didn’t have as much time as I thought, and my climax was almost upon me.
“No. Wait. Stop. I’m going to...”
But his fingers moved relentlessly, ignoring my words, driving my pleasure up to the edge and not stopping there. His other hand squeezed my nipple harder, and his teeth nipped at my skin, and I felt the world spinning away as my orgasm burst like a firework inside of me.
“Uhhhh,” I cried, my body involuntarily convulsing as my clitoris throbbed and swelled against his thrumming touch. All coherent thought left me as the ecstasy washed over in waves, and I groaned through my first climax from a man’s touch. I closed my eyes tightly, and was treated to a lightshow on the backs of my eyelids, the colors swirling and dancing in time with the thudding beat of bliss pounding through me.
Finally, my body relaxed, and it was only his embrace that kept me standing. The rough stone felt cool against my c
heek, and I opened my eyes to the surreal sight of the Lincoln Memorial, still gleaming brightly in the darkness.
His movements had stopped, but he still held me. His face pressed against my neck as his hand cupped my mound, as if protecting it. His other hand held my breast, but more gently now, and my still-hard nipple pressed against his palm with each deep, shuddering breath I took. Small aftershocks of pleasure shimmered through me, and my body quivered in response.
As reality filtered back into my thoughts, panic set in. What had I done? This was wrong. He was the president, and I was just an intern. I shouldn’t have allowed it to get this far.
But another part of me knew this is what I secretly desired for so long. To be held like this in strong arms, against my will. Arms that made me do things I didn’t want to do. Had he somehow looked inside me, and saw my dark secret? That wasn’t possible, was it? Reality didn’t work that way.
I had to leave. Get away from him so I could think straight. Being around him just clouded my mind with lust, and I had to stop this before we did something more serious. With that thought, a sudden image came to my mind. I was lying back in bed with my thighs spread, and Maxwell Remington was lying between them, making love to me.
No. I can’t let that happen.
I pulled away from him. He tried to hold me, but I stepped away, and his hand slid out from under my dress. Our eyes met.
“I have to go,” I said.
“No, you don’t. Stay with me.”
“Please. I just want to leave.”
He stared at me a long moment. “Very well. I’ll have my limousine drop you off.”
“No thank you. I’ll walk.”
“I’ll take you downstairs.”
We walked back inside, and took the elevator back down to the pantry. He stood silent, staring straight ahead as the elevator descended. Back in the Palm Room, the marine guard saluted again.
After returning the salute, the President said, “Nathaniel, could you please see that someone accompanies Miss Hayes back to her apartment?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said.
The President’s eyes met mine. “No argument. It’s not safe out there at this time of night. You’re getting an escort home.”
I managed a smile. “Thank you. And thank you for the tour.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, but didn’t return my smile. “Good evening, Miss Hayes.”
“Good night, Mr. President.”
He turned and disappeared through the arched doorway.
Nathaniel spoke into his radio, and soon a Secret Service agent in a black suit joined us. He walked me all the way home, and we didn’t speak until I reached my gate.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome, Ma’am,” he replied, and then waited as I entered my apartment.
I went straight to bed, skipping my shower. I told myself I was too tired to do it, but I knew that the real reason was that I wanted to keep his touch on my skin. I wanted to go to sleep with the sensation of his hands on me, feeling their power as I drifted off, imagining he was here in my bed, still holding me.
I felt like crying. Despite all my warnings to myself, I had screwed up. I had allowed that deep, dangerous part of me out at the worst possible time. Like an untamed animal, I had revealed my true nature to the one person I wanted to hide it from the most. And now that it was free, I could feel the smoldering of an uncontrollable fire within me, and I knew that it was going to get worse if I didn’t stop it.
Then the tears did come, as I realized what I had to do.
Chapter 7
“You’re quitting?” Mrs. Marshall stared up at me from her desk in stunned amazement.
“I’m sorry, but it’s just not working out.”
“Close the door and sit down.”
Reluctantly, I did as she asked. I had hoped this would be quick, and I could get out before I ran into the President.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her eyes studying me.
“Nothing. I’ve decided I don’t fit in here.”
“Don’t fit in? What does that mean?”
“It’s hard to explain. I just want to leave.”
“Sarah, I went through a lot of work to get you here, including finding a place for you to live. You at least owe me an explanation.”
I sighed. “I know, and if I could tell you, I would. But just trust me when I say it’s for the best.”
“Does this have anything to do with the other interns?”
“No, they’ve been very nice to me.”
“Anyone else giving you a hard time? I know Chief-of-Staff McGraw can be overbearing sometimes. Did he say anything to you?”
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t even met him.”
Her eyes studied me again. “I know the President likes you. He’s mentioned how well you’re doing with the letters.”
I looked down, but didn’t respond.
“Sarah, I can fix whatever’s wrong if you just give me a chance.”
I shook my head and kept my eyes lowered. “Not this.”
She was silent for a long moment, and then said, “I wish you would reconsider.”
“And I wish I could.”
After letting out a long breath, she said, “Fine. You can hand your badge in at the gate on the way out.”
I stood. “I’m sorry.”
“Good luck, Sarah.”
When I got back to my apartment, I fell on my bed and cried it all out again, just like I had done this morning. After a while, I worked up enough courage to call my father and tell him the news.
“I don’t understand, Sarah,” he said, “You’ve wanted to do this since you were little. How can you just give it up so easily?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Daddy. I just want to come home.”
“This isn’t like you at all. The daughter I know isn’t a quitter.”
I began crying again. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m coming to get you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. This evening sometime.”
“Dad–”
“See you then. I love you, baby.” The line went dead.
I spent the next hour crying all over again, and then began packing my stuff. I didn’t have much, and soon everything was back in the two suitcases it had arrived in, except for the jeans and T-shirt I was wearing.
I wasn’t hungry, but decided I needed to get out of this depressing apartment, so I walked down to Filibuster’s. My waitress recognized me.
“Weren’t you in here yesterday with the White House interns?”
I nodded. “Yes, that was me.” I wasn’t in the mood to tell her I no longer worked there.
“That must be exciting,” she said.
“Yes, very exciting.” I forced a smile.
She took my order, and fifteen minutes later I was picking at my sandwich, when I noticed someone was standing by my table. I looked up, and saw it was Jamie smiling down at me. He was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt instead of his waiter uniform.
“Hey, Sarah. How’s it going?”
I smiled. “Hi, Jamie. You don’t look like you’re on duty.”
“I just stopped by to pick up my paycheck, and I saw you sitting here alone. Mind if I sit down for a minute?”
I wasn’t in the mood for company, but I didn’t want to be rude. “Sure, go ahead.”
To my surprise, he took the seat next to me instead of the one across the table. I caught a whiff of his aftershave, and I had to admit he smelled good.
“How’s your new job going?” he asked.
I didn’t feel like explaining, so I said, “It’s going fine.”
“It must be so exciting working in the White House, especially the West Wing. Have you met the President yet?”
“Yes, I met him yesterday afternoon.”
His eyes got wide in wonder. “Cool. What was that like?”<
br />
“He’s different in person.”
“How so?”
I shrugged. “Just a bit more mellow than his public image.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I guess he would be. Hey, Sarah, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“After you’re done eating, you want to do something with me?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Hang out together a little. Maybe go dancing, and then we could go back to my place and watch a movie or something.”
I smiled softly. “I don’t think so, Jamie.”
“Come on, you’ll have fun, I promise.”
“I’m flying out of town in a few hours.”
He gave me a curious look. “Where to?”
“Back home.”
“Why?”
“I’d rather not discuss it, besides, aren’t you and April together?”
He smile never faltered. “Yeah, we have fun sometimes. Nothing more serious than that. You and I could have fun too.” He rested his hand on top of mine.
“I’m sorry, Jamie, but that’s not something I want.”
He squeezed my hand. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Do you mind if I keep on trying?”
I considered the fact that I was leaving town, and would probably never see him again. “No, I don’t mind.” I smiled.
His grin widened. “Good. I like you Sarah. I think we have a connection. We would be magic together.”
I chuckled. “Does that line really work?”
He winked at me. “You’d be amazed.”
I laughed. “I definitely would be.”
As he stood, he said, “Last chance. We could go back to my place and then I could drive you to the airport.”
“Thanks, Jamie, but not tonight.”
He smiled and lifted my hand, leaning down to kiss it. “It’s only a matter of time, you know.”
I grinned. “You need to go find a girl that will work on. Good luck.”
Laughing, he said, “You’re a tough nut, Sarah. Have a good flight.”
“Thanks.” I watched his sweet butt as he walked away, and had a flash of regret. Damn, why did I have to be like this? Why couldn’t I just be normal?
Yes, Mr President Page 4
