“And I’ll see you to your door,” he says gently but with a firmness packed behind his words. He’s not going to budge here.
“It’s really unnecessary.”
“It is,” Jake says, his voice low in a way that says there would be no arguing with him about it.
“Oh all right.” I sound like a petulant child, and there’s really no helping it. It’s exactly how I feel. I’d like to say I’m able to rise up from anything, but I would clearly be mistaken.
“Good girl,” he murmurs from beside me as we climb the last of the steps and head for the elevator. I just roll my eyes.
I reach for the button for the twenty-first floor and stand back as we ride the elevator with a Secret Service agent standing in front of us.
“I’ve always wondered about people with an elevator kink,” he says. “Until now. I can totally see the fascination standing here with you.”
“We’re not alone,” I say, clearing my throat and nodding in the direction of his agent.
“Gus won’t say anything.”
“I’m sure Gus is a charming individual and exemplary at his job, but I’m not having sex in an elevator in front of him,” I reply sharply, making both men chuckle. “And to be honest, this is the kind of idiotic bullshit behavior that will lose you the election if you’re not careful.”
“If you want to be technical,” Jake says. “It would be behind him.”
“I like her, sir,” Gus says, never turning to look at us. He keeps his eyes on his post.
“Me too,” Jake agrees.
“I stand corrected. You’re both morons,” I grumble while rolling my eyes.
“See?” Jake says to me. “I told you Gus was a good guy, even if he was a Marine and not a sailor.”
“Oorah.”
Men are so weird.
The doors to the elevator open on a ding. Gus is alert and ready for anything, including startling Carter, who is apparently here early, probably to get all the dirt he can. After Carter lets out an undignified squawk, he holds a hand to his chest.
“Jesus Christ. You scared me.”
“It serves you right,” I reply, giving him a knowing eye as I skirt around Gus and Jake.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Carter says as he plays the part of the affronted.
“I think you do.” The effect falls flat when he knows we both know he’s full of it.
“Fine,” he sighs. “You got me. What do you need this morning?”
“The Open Arms Project and the Conners file,” I answer with a smile. “Thank you, Carter.”
“On it, boss,” He salutes before heading down the hall in the opposite direction from my office that sits at the other end.
I take a step toward my office, and I barely lift my foot off of the ground before a strong hand wraps around my upper arm and pulls me back.
“Oh no you don’t,” Jacob growls from behind me, but after the culmination of last night and this morning, I am not in the mood for any more of his bullshit. I shoot him a blistering glare over my shoulder, but it’s no use. He just proceeds to blister my ears. “Do not ever step around Gus again.”
“But it was Carter,” I try to explain.
“No,” he says firmly. “Never again.”
“But—”
“I said no,” he practically growls. “It’s his job to take a bullet for you, and you will let him do it if he needs to.”
“No,” I argue. “It’s his job to take a bullet for you. Now, whether or not you deserve it is another matter.”
“Yes, it’s his job to take a bullet for me,” he says. “And also for you.”
I look from him to Gus. I want to argue that Jake is wrong and he has to let me live my life and do so the way I have always done, but he shakes his head, and it’s a jerky side-to-side movement, letting me know I should abandon ship; all hope is lost.
“Fine.” I push out a frustrated sigh. The last twenty-four hours does not bode well for my future if every time I have a say about something, Jake argues me out of it. With slumped shoulders and a defeated air around me, I slink off to my office. In all truth, I was hoping he’d decide I lost enough for the morning and we could retreat to our corners so we could come out swinging again tonight.
I was wrong.
I drop my bag on my desk and am just rounding the heavy piece of wood when I hear the door to my office snick closed and the lock turn over. The sounds boom in my quiet space like a shotgun blast, and I drop into my office chair.
“W-w-what are you doing?”
“I think you forgot something,” Jacob says confidently, and for the life of me, I can’t think of what I could’ve forgotten. There’s something about him that makes me nervous, on edge, so it’s entirely likely I did.
“What’s that?”
“You forgot to give me a goodbye kiss. Now, what will everyone think if they saw?” he prompts, and I think, Well that’s easy enough to remedy.
“But no one did see,” I reply. “So it doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, but I think it does.”
“Do you want a kiss?” I ask, and it sounds more breathless than I would have wanted, but he makes me so nervous… and turned on. I like his bossy side, yet I will never admit that out loud.
“I do,” he answers, and I press my hands to the arms of my chair to stand up, but he waves a hand to stop me. “But not yet.”
I tip my head to the side and study him. “I don’t understand.”
“I know,” he replies low in his throat almost like a growl. “So I’m going to explain it to you.”
“Okay.”
“Last night, you did not sleep in my bed,” he says as he ticks my transgressions off on his fingertips. “And then you locked the door to the room, so I couldn’t get to you. Then you didn’t wake up in my arms or with my mouth on your pussy, because of the previously mentioned. And then you stepped in front of Gus, which could have been incredibly dangerous—”
“But it wasn’t,” I interrupt.
“In another time, it could have been,” he growls back, still counting that on a finger. “And then you did not kiss me goodbye. So now you have earned a punishment.”
“Wh-what?” I stammer. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am,” Jacob purrs. “I want you to lean back in your chair and spread your pretty legs for me. You’ll do that, won’t you, baby?”
He’s not really going to punish me, right? I thought that was a thing that only happened in books. And still, I’m hurt by the way that he walked away from me like he did last night. Can I really do this? Can I let him look his fill while I sit at the desk that makes me feel powerful? Am I powerful in this moment or does he hold all of the cards? And then I realize, maybe I can be powerful too. Maybe it doesn’t have to be him or me. Maybe there’s power in me letting him take. We’re in a situation that can’t be helped and, Jake is right, we could make the best of it. We could give in to this uncontrollable passion and let the wildfire burn or we could slowly hate each other when he seeks fulfillment in someone else.
So I make my decision to jump of the cliff with him. How bad could one little punishment be if we both get to come in the end?
“Yes,” I whisper, because as much as I hate it, I don’t want to stop it either, so my hold on the arm rests tightens as I lean back in my chair and spread my legs as wide as my skirt will allow. My whole body feels like it’s on fire as my skin flushes with embarrassment and arousal.
“Good girl,” he says as he slowly stalks a little bit closer to me. He stands just on the other side of my desk and watches me closely. “Lift that sexy skirt for me. Show me your panties.”
My breath catches in my throat, and with a shaky hand I reach out and slide the pleated silk up my thighs, keeping my eyes locked on Jake’s the entire time. He drops his palms to the top of my desk with a heavy thud, making me jump a little.
“That’s my girl.” Oh how I would want to be his girl, but we both know we�
�re nothing but these stolen moments. He might make my body sing, but that goes for almost every other woman in New York. I’m nothing special, and we both know it. “Now push those little panties aside and show me your pussy.”
I hook my fingertips around the gusset and pull it to the side, exposing to him exactly how much he affects me.
“Mmmm,” he hums, and I swear I feel the sound between my legs. I barely hold back a whimper. “Tell me, are you wet for me?”
“Yes,” I whisper, even though the proof is there right before his eyes.
“Touch yourself,” he softly commands. “Show me how you make yourself come when no one is looking. Do you rub your pretty pink clit like I did last night?”
“Yes.”
“Show. Me.”
I touch my middle finger to my clit and practically cry out at the pressure. Sweet relief is within reach if only I take it—and Jake wants me to take it. I circle my fingers once, and then twice, reveling in the feel of my hand while Jake watches.
“That’s it,” he coos. “Faster. You like it faster, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I know, baby,” he says, leaning farther over the desk toward me. “I know how you like it. I know what you need to take you there.”
“Yes.” Oh fuck, I’m so close. I’m going to make myself come sitting at my desk with my fake live-in lover watching from the other side, and there is nothing in this world I want more than to do exactly that.
“I bet you’d like it if I bent you over this desk, with your ass in the air and your pussy dripping for my cock. Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, yes.”
“I would slide in nice and slow at first and let you adjust to my size, but only for a second.”
“Mm-hm,” I pant as I circle my fingers faster and faster, pressing harder and harder. Oh, God, I want this.
“And then I would pump into your tight pussy hard and fast. Over and over again.”
“Oh, God,” I moan. I close my eyes so I can see and feel his words. I want nothing else but for him to do exactly as he says. “Please.”
“I would lean over you, cover you with my body, my chest pressed tight to your back while I ride you hard and fast,” he growls low.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant. “I’m going to come.”
“I know, baby.”
“Oh, God.”
“Not God, honey,” he says just as I’m about to tumble headfirst over the edge. “Jacob is the name you’ll scream when you come.”
And then he clamps his hand over mine, forcing the flat of my fingers against my clit, effectively stopping my detonation in its tracks at T-minus two seconds to go. I cry out at the loss just as his other hand grips my hair, tipping my head back as he crushes his mouth to mine and thrusts his tongue inside, owning me.
This is clearly my punishment. Maybe no one gets to come after all.
When he rips his mouth away at the exact moment he snatches my panties from my very body, he still leans in close. “Now, you’ll have something to think on while you wait for me.”
“What makes you think I won’t finish myself off when you leave?” I snap.
“You won’t.” He smirks. “I’ll know it if you do, and I’ll punish you again. But if you ride out the want and be patient like a good girl, I’ll make it worth it to you when I pick you up this evening.”
And with that, he lowers my skirt to cover my lap before turning on his heels and walking out of my office, with my panties in his coat pocket and my dignity out the window.
“Hearts break all over the Tri-state Area. It looks like a certain politician is officially off the market.”
Chapter 8
Complicated
I must have sat in my chair for ages—it could have been minutes, hours; who knows? I only know I wasn’t there for days in my mind, because Jake had left me with an ominous warning that he would definitely be back to collect me at the end of the workday. And as he still hadn’t darkened my office door for a second time yet today, I can only guess that means it’s still Monday.
Well, shit.
Eventually, Carter came to collect me. We had a pre-trial hearing at the courthouse this morning. He handed me the case file and briefed me in the cab on the way. Our client was going through a messy divorce and wanted his prenuptial agreement thrown out, because he’d gotten caught with his penis in a person who was not his wife.
I would never have taken a case like this. Men like this disgust me. They think the rules don’t apply to them, and if they have enough money, they would be correct. The partners are clearly testing me and my loyalties. I met with their client and handled their pre-trial motions, and then I marched into the stuffy corner offices and reminded them that if they try to pass off bullshit cases like this scumbag’s on me again, I will be out their doors faster than they can say “my bad” and hang my own shingle across town.
Granted, if I were to become First Lady, I would never touch cases like this again. And the partners won’t know any different. To them and the rest of America, I very well may be the next FLOTUS and shouldn’t risk my reputation or that of my U.S.-senator lover. Not that any of that has a lick of truth to it, but the partners don’t know that.
I straighten my spine and shore up my courage. I am a brilliant attorney. I am living with a powerful and well-respected U.S. Senator—even if he drives me crazy one minute and makes me come with alarming dexterity the next. This law firm is lucky to have me. I repeat my mantra over and over again in my head, leaving out the part about achieved orgasms in record times, as I knock on the door to John Stanton’s office.
“Come in!” he hollers. Stanton is the managing partner of the firm. The rest are as old as the Washington Monument and only have their names on the letterhead and their grandchildren in their old offices snorting coke and fucking the secretary pool. I like to stay away from the younger crowd as much as possible.
Damn, maybe it’s time to hang my own shingle after all. I’m getting way too old for this shit.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask softly. I learned a long time ago I get farther with the men in this office acting demurely, and when that fails, I fuck their shit up. Legally, of course.
“Of course, Grace,” he says affably. “Good to see you.”
“Thank you.” I make my way into his office.
“What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to know who assigned me the Conners case?” I ask with more sugar in my tone than all the Kool-Aid factories combined. Apparently, I laid it on a little too thick, because I see Stanton’s posture go rigid. Good, you should be worried.
“I’m not sure,” he hedges. “Why are you asking?”
“Because I won’t be working the case any longer,” I say on a gentle smile.
“I’m sorry, Grace, but that just won’t do,” Stanton says, pushing enough steel into his tone that it left the “your job depends on it” unsaid. “There is not anyone else who could take the case. We’re just that busy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell him, letting my words hang in the air.
“I knew you would see reason,” Stanton says with a smile for me like a proud papa. Too bad I’m about to ruin his day. “There really is no one who could achieve the outcome Connors wants like you can.”
“This is true,” I agree. “But I won’t be representing him. That prenup is iron-clad. He should have thought about that before he paraded his mistress all over town.”
“We don’t let our personal feelings get in the way of doing our jobs at this firm,” Stanton warns me.
“This is also true,” I tell him. “And while I find the work ethic admirable, there are many things about Mr. Conners I find highly questionable and some unethical and very illegal.”
“You’re point is, counselor?” The tone of his voice is sharp like a knife and he is warning me to tread very lightly. But I would never defend someone like Conners and he knows it. Could this be the blackmail? Would my own bos
ses be threatening me so that I handle their dirty work for them? I’ve always known that they took on some clients that were criminals even if they’ve never been caught and tried. And I have always looked the other way while handling the legitimate side of business. Sure, I clean up their messes, but only those of the non-criminal variety. Could this be how they finally get me to take on the cases that I’ve always refused?
I’ll have to think fast to get out of this mess. Maybe the senator’s reputation is enough to land me in the clear even if only for enough time to regroup.
“It does not behoove the senator or his purposes for me to align myself, his fiancée,” I say, pointing to my own person as I explain to him that I won’t be doing his bidding on this case, “with certain persons. So, I’m going to have to pass on this case.”
“I don’t think Senior Senator Chancellor would feel the same way,” Stanton says cryptically.
“I wouldn’t know,” I tell him, and when he tips his head to the side to study me, I realize my mistake. A woman would know her fiancé’s parents, right? Shit. “We don’t see each other often, and when we do, we do not discuss my job or my cases.” Whew, that sounded reasonable.
“I see,” he says. “Well, I will be sure to bring this up with him tomorrow afternoon at tee time.”
Of course he will. Tattletale.
“Of course,” I purr. “Now, I have to get back to my office. I trust the case will be passed on to good hands.”
“Let’s not be so hasty,” Stanton says. “I’d like to check with the senior senator.”
“You do that,” I tell him on narrowed eyes. “I will be checking with the current senator.”
“Of course,” he says as he looks down his nose at me. We’re at a stalemate. I can’t see how my taking on a shady client would help Jake win the election. Could his own father be trying to sabotage him? I’m going to have to look into things and see where the truth really lies because someone is in this mess up to their eyeballs. I just hope it’s not me.
And with that, I leave his office on shaky legs. Why would he want me to keep such a shit client? Conners has money, but is it really worth it to keep him on? The fact that I’m going to have to broach the subject with Jake this evening does not inspire warm and fuzzy feelings in me. Not to mention the thought of tonight and Jake’s lusty promises simultaneously makes my palms sweaty and my panties wet. My life is so complicated. How did this even happen in the first place? I’ve been so careful. I’ve lived my life in half measures all to build this life I wanted, and now it all hangs in the balance with chaos swirling all around me.
The Senator's Secret (A Presidential Affair Book 1) Page 9
