I held down on him, kissing him hard, our tongues twisting together. Suddenly, a voice came from above us.
“Max, I forgot to tell you–”
We looked up and saw Jack staring down at us from the terrace with a shocked expression. Then he recovered and waved his hand. “Sorry. See you in the morning.” He disappeared again.
I turned to the President and smiled, then kissed him again. His hands moved to my hips, and began moving me on him, lifting me up and pushing me back down, driving his cock deep.
“Ohhhh,” I moaned, “I needed this.”
His rigid dick speared up into me, stretching my core to its limits, sending delicious sparks of pleasure through me with each impalement. I gripped his shoulders for support, using the leverage to thrust down hard, loving the feel of his cockhead bumping against my cervix.
The churning water splashed around us as we picked up speed, his swollen flesh sliding through my clasping tightness, and I felt the stirrings of my oncoming orgasm.
“Yesss,” I whispered, “so good. Fuck me, baby.”
We were breathing hard, gasping out our pleasure in time with our thrusts. The pleasure was coiling in me, preparing for release.
Suddenly, he grunted loudly, and held me down on him. I felt his cock swell and pulse, and he groaned as he began filling me with his seed. The sensation was the final straw, and my orgasm burst like a firework inside of me.
I clung to him with my thighs and arms as the pleasure throbbed through us in surging waves. My pussy fluttered around him, reacting to the pulsing heat of his ejaculation.
Eventually, the pleasure ebbed into comforting warmth, and he held me in his arms as we recovered. After a few minutes we got out of the hot tub.
We got dressed and walked down to Hickory Lodge for dinner, then returned to Aspen. After watching the news we made love again, and then fell asleep.
It was a wonderful weekend. The President had a few commitments, but for the most part I had him to myself. We would make love in the morning, and then shower together before having breakfast. Our days were filled with hiking and horseback riding, and we found the opportunity to get back to our lodge after lunch and spend an hour in bed together. On Saturday evening we watched movies down at Hickory along with several of the camp’s residents, and then returned to the seclusion of our bedroom where we made love to the point of exhaustion, passing out in each other’s arms.
Sunday night came too quick, and I rode the golf cart with him out to the helipad. He took me in his arms and kissed me, reminding me he’d be back in three days. But I still felt sad as I watched Marine One lift off and turn towards the southeast.
Chapter 48
On Tuesday, while I was jogging in the morning, I encountered a man jogging in the opposite direction. We waved politely, but didn’t stop. But then we crossed paths again on the other side of the camp, and he stopped and held up his hand. I stopped also, and we chatted for a few minutes. He introduced himself as Rosen, and spoke English with an accent. I guessed his age to be late-forties, and he had dark hair tinged with gray. He was pleasant, in good shape for his age, and we talked about how nice the Camp was.
He asked me if I played tennis, and when I told him I had when I was younger, he proposed we make use of the tennis courts and play together. I told him that I would be working until five, but after that I was free. We made a date to meet at the courts at six.
He was a fairly good player, and I was rusty, so I didn’t put up much competition. But it was fun to do something different, and I wondered if the President played, and if so, maybe we could get a game in when he arrived tomorrow.
After our last game, Rosen smiled and walked to the net with his hand outstretched. I took it, and thanked him for the game, but then he surprised me by giving me a playful pat on my butt. I let it pass, thinking he was from another country and they did things differently. But as we walked down the path to the camp, he surprised me again.
“That was fun,” he said. “Thanks for playing with me.”
“I enjoyed it too.”
“I could really use a shower. Would you like to join me?”
I stared at him for a moment. “No, thank you.”
He smiled. “I promise it will be as fun as the tennis.”
“I’m flattered, but I’m in a relationship.”
“So am I. But we’re here together, all alone. It will be our little secret.”
“I think we better stick to the tennis.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
He smiled. “Well, I gave it a shot, yes?”
I laughed. “You certainly did.”
On Wednesday, the Camp came alive with a flurry of activity, helicopters were buzzing around, landing and dropping off guests, and the once-solitary paths now had people walking about, sightseeing. The cabins filled up, and when I took a walk, I heard many different languages being spoken.
The President arrived around ten in the morning, but his time was spent greeting all the leaders, so we didn’t have a chance to be alone. Just before noon, I was working on my letters when he finally arrived at Aspen, and had British Prime Minister David Cameron, and his wife, Samantha, in tow. He introduced them to me, calling me Sarah with no further explanation. But since I was obviously living in the President’s lodge, I was sure they understood. A few Navy chefs arrived with food, and the four of us had lunch together on the lower terrace. It felt good to be included.
But then the President was gone again for a series of meetings that kept him busy for the rest of the afternoon. He returned at six, and we had to hurry to get ready for the dinner.
The dinner was held at Laurel Lodge, with tables set up on the large, outdoor patio. After we finished eating, they cleared the tables away, and a piano was wheeled out. A man played while we mingled with the guests.
It was a thrill to meet all these people I had only read about. Once again, the President only introduced me as Sarah, with no additional explanation.
I was talking to Samantha Cameron, when the President came up alongside and told me he wanted me to meet someone. I turned with him, and found myself face to face with my tennis partner from yesterday. He stared at me in surprised recognition for a moment, and then smiled.
“Sarah,” the President said, “I’d like you to meet President Rosen Plevneliev, of Bulgaria, and his wife, Yuliyana. Did I pronounce that correctly?”
“Perfectly,” she replied, as we all shook hands.
I wondered if Rosen would mention our tennis yesterday, but he remained mute on the subject. When he glanced down and saw the President’s hand on my lower back, he got a slightly startled look on his face. I guess he finally realized who I was in a relationship with.
The get-together lasted until eleven, when people began to head back to their cabins. The President told me he had one more quick meeting, but I should go back to Aspen, and he would join me soon. I whispered into his ear that I would be waiting up for him, and he gave me a smile.
He didn’t arrive until eleven, and I was in bed and watching television. He undressed and slid in under the covers, taking me in his arms as his weight settled over me. I allowed him to set the pace, clinging to him as he moved between my spread thighs, using his strength to fill me again and again. Afterward we talked for a while, and I drifted off to sleep with my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. If I had known what was about to happen the next day, I would have made love to him all night, never letting him go.
Chapter 49
The big day had finally arrived. The President was up early to greet some late-arriving guests, and I decided to continue my routine of my morning jog. It looked like it was going to be another beautiful day, weather-wise, but then I remembered that this was the day when it was most likely the Raven would make his move, so I found it impossible to enjoy myself as I ran.
I was making the turn at the far northern end, when a dark-suited Secret Service agent stepped out on the path i
n front of me, holding out his hand, motioning for me to stop. I felt the ball of fear in my stomach again as I complied, catching my breath.
“Miss Hayes, you have to return to Aspen immediately.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I was just told to send you back.”
“Is the President alright?”
“Yes, as far as I know.”
“Thank you.” I headed off running in the direction of our lodge, afraid that when I saw it, it would be swarming with Secret Service agents. But when I rounded the corner, it was in its usual placid state. I stopped and walked the rest of the way, allowing my lungs a chance to catch up.
When I went in, the President and Chief Luger were waiting for me. I rushed to the President and into his arms, needing to feel his body against mine.
“When they told me to come back, I thought something had happened to you.”
He allowed me to hold him for a moment, and then put his hands on my shoulders and held me away, his eyes serious.
“Sarah, something’s happened.”
I searched his expression. Whatever it was, it was bad.
“What?”
He led me to the couch. “Have a seat.”
My stomach was doing flips as I sat. “What is it?”
He put his arm around my shoulder, and nodded to Luger, who kneeled in front of me on the floor, and took my hand.
“Sarah,” he said, “I’m afraid I have some bad news about your friend.”
“Which friend?”
“Jamie Barnes.”
“What is it?”
“His body was found last night in the Potomac. He had been shot.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “No, no. That’s not possible.”
The President hugged me tighter.
“I’m sorry,” Luger said.
“There’s some mistake. There has to be.”
Luger shook his head. “He had ID on him. And his father verified it was him a few hours ago.”
The tears ran down my cheeks. “Oh my god.”
Luger continued. “We’re proceeding on the assumption that the Raven killed Jamie for some reason.”
“It’s all my fault,” I said.
“Don’t say that,” the President said, as he turned and pulled me into his arms. “It’s not your fault.”
As he held me, I found myself staring at Jamie’s flag pin on his lapel, and the tears came harder. I tried not to think of poor, happy-go-lucky Jamie, floating dead in the river. I sobbed against the President’s chest as he caressed my hair.
Finally, a few minutes later, I lifted my head. “I’ll have to call April and tell her.”
The President nodded. “Of course. For security reasons, the news of Jamie’s murder won’t be released until after the accord is signed. If you want to call her and tell her before that, I think that would be a good idea. But for now, I want you to lie down for a while and relax.”
He stood and helped me to my feet, then guided me into our bedroom. I lay on the bed, and he leaned over and kissed my forehead.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. “Get some rest.”
When he left, I cried some more, running memories of Jamie through my mind. The way he smiled and laughed, and the way his body felt against mine, so strong and so alive. He was dead? It just wasn’t possible.
I thought about calling April, but couldn’t work up enough courage. In a few minutes, I told myself. I decided to turn on the television instead, to take my mind off of things.
When the picture came on, it took my already-numb brain a moment to register what I was seeing. There, on the screen, staring back at me, was my own face.
Chapter 50
I sat up and listened in horror as the newscaster spoke, only picking up the key phrases. “Another intern.” “Scandal.” “President Remington.” All the while, they kept my picture on the screen, with a large red banner below – ‘ALLEGATIONS OF SEX WITH INTERN’
The announcer said an anonymous person, supposedly with the White House, was making allegations that the President was romantically involved with a twenty-one year old intern named Sarah Hayes. This person allegedly had proof of their claims, and would present it later today.
I was still staring dumbfounded at the screen a few minutes later when the President and McGraw came into the room.
“Sarah,” the President said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “where is this coming from?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
McGraw spoke. “Well, you better think harder. We need to find out who is doing this before the evidence gets released.”
“I don’t know,” I repeated. It was like my brain was in a fog. First Jamie, and now this?
“Mr. President, we need to get on top of this,” McGraw said. “I’ll call a news conference, and you can deny these allegations.”
The President looked at him. “Jack, I’m not going to lie about this.”
“It’s that, or kiss re-election goodbye.”
“I’m not doing it.”
McGraw thought a moment. “What about Sarah? Think about what she’s going to go through if you don’t deny it. Do you want to put her through that?”
I shook my head. “No, don’t use me. Don’t lie for me.”
McGraw turned to me. “This is going to get ugly quickly. We have the advantage of what happened with April fresh in people’s minds. We deny it and say it’s another crazy, made up story. People will believe it because they want to believe it.”
I turned to the President. “Don’t lie for me. Please. If you have to do it, then fine, but don’t do it for me.”
He met my eyes. “I would never deny you.”
McGraw sighed. “Okay, we’ll do it your way. But, Miss Hayes, you have to go away.”
“No,” the President said.
I nodded. “Yes, he’s right. I have to leave. I’m too much of a liability to you.”
“Finally, someone’s speaking some sense,” McGraw said.
“Sarah, I need you with me.”
“No,” I said, adamantly. “It has to be this way. We don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“This is for the best,” I said. “You know in your heart it is.”
“Don’t tell me what I know.”
I met his fierce gaze with mine. “Max, I come second to you. That’s why I’m hidden all the time. That’s why I have to walk through the streets of Paris alone, because you’re off doing what’s more important to you. And you know what? You’re right, that is more important than me. What you’re doing far outweighs my need to have you with me. I not only understand that, I agree with it.”
I turned to McGraw. “Make the arrangements to get me out of here. I want to go home.”
Chapter 51
The President tried to talk me out of it, but I was adamant, packing my suitcase as he stood beside me. Finally, McGraw came back and told him he had to get back to the leaders, since the accord signing was set for eleven-fifteen, a few hours away.
“I’ll be right there,” the President growled. After McGraw left, he turned back to me. “Sarah, stay. We’ll figure this out.”
I reached up and caressed his cheek. “I’ll always cherish out time together.”
“Don’t do this.”
“It’s for the best. You’ll see.”
“I love you.”
I blinked away the tears. “And I love you, Max. But I have to go.” I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
His face hardened, and he turned and walked out. I stopped trying to hold back the tears.
Several minutes later I was standing outside Aspen Lodge with my suitcase, when a familiar car pulled up. I smiled softly when Mario got out.
“We meet again,” I said.
He smiled. “Hello, Miss Hayes. You ready to go?”
“Yes.”
He loaded my suitcase into the car, and we drove to the gate. It was muc
h easier getting out than getting in, and soon we were driving on the entrance road between the camp and the highway.
“Miss Hayes?” Mario said.
“Call me Sarah, please.”
“Sarah. I know it’s none of my business, but I just wanted you to know I don’t believe what they’re saying on the news about you.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean, you seem like a really nice girl.”
I gave him a curious look. “What are you saying, Mario?”
“Um, that you’re nice, and the news people don’t know you like I do.”
“Are you saying that because I’m nice, it would be impossible for me to fall in love with the President?”
He looked over at me. “Um, no, I don’t mean that. I mean…”
I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and turned my head to look at the road ahead.
“Look out!” I screamed.
Mario hit the brakes, and the car skidded to a stop, just inches from the man lying in the middle of the road.
“Holy shit!” Mario said, and put the car in park then reached for the door handle. I got out on my side.
We walked to the front of the car, and looked at the man lying there. He was face down, with dark hair.
“Hey, you okay?” Mario said. He knelt down next to the man and reached for his shoulder.
The recognition hit me. I’m not sure if it was the posture of the man’s body, or his hair, but I felt the fear leap inside of me.
“No–” I began, but it was too late. The man on the ground rolled over to reveal he was holding a pistol. He held it up and pointed it directly into Mario’s face. I stared in horror at the scar on his cheek.
Mario froze, and all the color drained from his face. The man stood, keeping the pistol on the agent.
Yes, Mr President Page 20
