People are quieting down as I continue. "Will I make mistakes? Of course. Was this one of them? I don't know. But guess what? It doesn't matter."
People are now sitting still. "Whether you make mistakes isn't the big deal. Whether you learn from those mistakes, whether you prevent them the next time, that's what matters. Has America never made any mistakes? Of course it has."
The audience is just sitting in shock. "But did we learn from them? You bet we did. And we didn't make the same damn mistake again."
New round of gasps. The President just cursed on live TV! Give me a fucking break.
"We've made plenty of mistakes as a country. We make plenty of mistakes as people. Every. Single. Day. But we learn from them. Individually and together. And we don't make them again. We're not perfect. But we constantly try to be. We learn what didn't work. We correct what's broken. We always try to do better. And that makes us unique, and unlike any other country in the world."
Some people are nodding.
"I've made plenty of mistakes since I took this office," I say at the podium. Now people lean in. They want to hear what the mistakes are.
"I should have pardoned Oliver Trask on Day One like my stepsister Ashley asked me to. But I was scared. Scared of public opinion. Scared of how it would look. And you know what she did? She went with it, still giving me the benefit of the doubt," my words are coming out now and I've stopped censoring myself.
I don't know if I'm accidentally going to curse anywhere in here because it's coming straight out of my mouth. Not stopping at my brain.
"She helped me be a better President by becoming a better person. And trust me, folks, I really needed to become a better person," I say as mild laughter wafts through the room. "I think somewhere along the way here, we've forgotten why we get into this job. We forget why we send leaders to Washington. We get so caught up in demonizing each other that we don't discuss anything anymore. Any disagreement is met with overwhelming force. It's like bringing a nuclear bomb to a fistfight. And we get so scared of being blown up that our leaders poll test and parse every word that comes out of their mouths. And it becomes piles of bullshit."
There we fucking go. I've started cursing.
"And the American people aren't dumb. They see that they're being told what thy want to hear and they either buy in or get jaded. And when you tell someone exactly what they want to hear all the time, they start forgetting that there's another side in the argument. Whether your liberal or conservative, you start to forget that this country is founded on debate. On democracy. And you drift. And that's when you become intolerant. And you start squashing other views."
People are listening close. You could hear a pin fucking drop at this point.
"I was like that when I met Miss Draper. I told people what they wanted to hear. But she changed me. And I fell in love with her. She's my stepsister. Her mother makes my father very happy. And she makes me very happy."
Gasps now, but I don't fucking care. "That's right, in case the tabloids didn't get that or it kind of shocked you, let me repeat this so that there's absolutely no doubt. I, Austin Bain, am completely in love with the woman known as Ashley Draper who just so happens to have recently joined my family but otherwise has no relation to me. I don't believe what we have is wrong in any way. If you do, I'm willing to hear your side of the argument, but I challenge you to see if you still believe that after you've spent a day with her. And tell me that she doesn't light the lives of the people around her."
I'm on a fucking roll.
"But that's not good enough for some people. Some people are in this game not to lead, or to learn, or to help. They want the power and they get their kicks from tearing people down. And I've never backed down from a fight in my life so I'm happy to say the following. To the news sources who think they have a story or scandal on ambiguous quotes, vague leaks and shadowy innuendo: You got your entire story wrong. You're demonizing the wrong people. You think by spreading lies against the American Cancer and Poverty Elimination Initiative you're doing some sort of public good? That going after my stepsister is easy pickings? Why don't you pick on someone your own size? I'm standing right here. Come and fucking get me. I swear to God, I will have nothing but time if I lose today anyways to fucking destroy you," I add the last bit with a laugh. I can hear a few others join in.
"We have a lot of problems in this country that we still have to fix, folks," I say. "I have some ideas how to do it. If you think that you want to give me a chance, you know which way to vote. But I gotta be honest with you America, right now, whether you vote to keep me in, or kick me out, I really don't care."
That really does it. People are wondering what is going on.
"I don't care because I've lost my soul and my soul is Ashley Draper. So vote to keep me in and I’ll thank you and I'll get right to work. Kick me out because you want some 300-year old rule that's outdated today to stay in place, and hopefully someone else will help us solve them. But either way, right now, the most important thing to me is going back to Ashley and getting on me knees and telling her that I'm sorry. Because I'm a fool for not protecting her from this. And I'm nothing without her," I'm almost done. I fucking swear.
"So vote the way you will. And may God bless America always, no matter what we decide today."
That's it. I'm done. I can't do a mic drop or I would, but I'm done with this fucking speech. I'm done with this fucking job if it comes to that. The spontaneous and sustained standing ovation and applause doesn't register in my mind. I pay no attention to the commentators backstage when I hear them say things like 'one of the greatest and most heartfelt speeches of our generation,' or bits like, 'perhaps the grandest gesture in the history of the Presidency'.
There's only one place I'm going and that's back to Washington D.C.
To find Ashley.
To find the love of my life.
20
Ashley
I can’t help but cry.
Only this time, it’s tears of happiness.
“…perhaps the greatest political love story of our generation,” I hear the commentators on television say as I walk out to the living room when the doorbell rings.
“…The White House announcing today that the President has signed an Executive Order to pardon Oliver Trask, citing his years already incarcerated as having compensated society for his crime…”
“…Convention overwhelmingly passes HR-222, and President Bain shall remain the 49th President of the United States….”
“…Re-election all but certain…”
“…Women imitating the Ashley Draper hairstyles all across the country…”
“…If they met before their parents got married, this wouldn’t even be an issue…”
I open the door.
He’s standing there, in a dark, very well cut suit. President Austin Bain.
“Ash,” he says, taking a step closer. “I’m an idiot for not coming sooner.”
“Shhh,” I say, putting my finger on his lips. “None of that matters now.”
I go to kiss him, but he stops me. I look at him quizzically.
“I just want you to know that I didn’t pardon Trask to get you back,” he tells me. He’s being honest.
I nod. “And you didn’t get me back because you pardoned Trask, Mr. President,” I say with a smile. “You got me back because I love you.”
“I fucking love you too,” he exhales.
“So romantic,” I tease as he wraps his arms around me. “Stay with me, Ash. Stay with me forever.”
I look into his eyes and I see it there - the truth. Raw and unfiltered honesty.
“Yes,” I say, my heart beating softly. This is it. This is the moment where my life changes forever. No turning back now, no second guessing. “Always.”
There’s a smile on his lips as he takes one step towards me, his long fingers caressing my cheek. He leans into me and I close my eyes, parting my lips slightly.
We kiss.
&nb
sp; How many times have we kissed before? How many times have we had sex? Too many to count and yet… It’s almost as if this is our first kiss. And in a sense, it is. It’s no longer forbidden, it’s no longer taboo. We’re not sneaking around, pretending that there is no real world outside.
This time it’s serious. Let the whole world see it.
Both his hands are on my face, his lips brushing against me softly. I almost feel like crying, knowing that now nothing will come between us. I won’t let that happen, and neither will he. And how do I know all this? Just with this kiss. Nothing in the world can separate two persons that kiss like this. Maybe it’s a law of physics, or a law of love - I don’t know what it is, I just know that it is so.
I love you, Austin,” I pull back, looking into his eyes. There’s no grin or mischievous expression on his face - just a tenderness behind his eyes. I’m not sure if the world will ever understand Austin Bain. But I do, and that’s all that matters right now.
“I love you too, Ash. Forever,” he smiles then, his hands going to my lower back as his mouth presses against mine once more. I grab his jacket and, with all the patience in the world, take it off of him; my fingers then go to his collar and I start unbuttoning his shirt, anticipating how it will feel to brush my fingers over the smooth skin of his chest.
He lifts up the hem of my blouse just an inch, resting the tip of his fingers over the dimples in my lower back, in that narrow patch of naked skin between the hem of my jeans and my blouse. A shiver goes up my spine at his touch. Even though I know we have eternity ahead of us, I also know I will never tire of his touch, of his kiss…
I can barely understand why do I deserve him. Me, nothing more than a regular girl. Why does he love me so? Why do I deserve his love? I don’t even care for the answers to all those questions. All that matters is that yes, he loves me.
His fingers go around my waist and he brushes them against the hem of my jeans as he goes. My heart is already beating fast, and it’s not because of lust and desire - sure, there’s that too, but somehow it’s different now. It’s something more powerful, more unique. In his touch, in our touch… There’s love. I don’t know how else to put it.
I finish unbuttoning his shirt and brush my fingers over the hard lines of his abs, tracing their contour as if I’m taking measures. I let my hands climb up to his chest and then they go to his neck; his own hands go up my side and, grabbing my face gently, he parts his lips and slowly brushes his tongue against mine.
How is it even possible to want someone so much?
His hands go back down my body, settling on my waist as he pulls me close. I feel him grabbing at my blouse and I take one step back, raising my arms up in the air as he pulls the blouse over my head.
He looks at me, licking his lips almost unconsciously as he looks at my almost naked chest, and then pulls me back into him once more. My naked skin brushes against his, and I can feel it prickling, goosebumps all over me. Still in his embrace, I feel his fingers on my back as he unhooks the velvety bra I still have on. I let it slide down my arms, my hard nipples sending a ripple of electricity down my torso as the cool air of the room laps at them.
I stand still, letting Austin take a good hard look at me. He isn’t smiling or grinning - he just stands there, in front of me, looking at my body as if I’m the last woman on earth. Everyone needs to have someone in their lives that look at them just like this.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, Ash,” he says as I grab at his shirt and take it off his body, running the open palm of my hands down his arms. I smile at him and, without taking my eyes off his, I let my fingers trace a slow and tortuous line over his chest and abs and down to his belt. Hooking my fingers around it, I pull Austin into me, our foreheads resting against each other. I reach for him with my mouth and tenderly bite his lower lips.
“No,” I say, “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”
His hands go down over the curve of my backside and he grabs me there, our bodies pressing against each other. With my naked breasts against his chest, I swear I can almost feel his heart drumming away.
I unbuckle his pants, the metallic sound of the buckle filling the whole room, and then I pull the belt out. My heart’s louder now, almost racing. As softly as I can, I brush the tip of my fingers over his crotch, feeling the shape of his erection straining against his pants. To feel his desire for him like is almost magical.
Taking my time, I unbutton his pants, his length pressing against the back of my hands as I do it. My body is already aching to have him in me; but why rush? We have eternity ahead of us, an entire life.
His pants unbuttoned, I brush my fingertip from the base of his cock to his tip, over the smooth fabric of his boxer briefs. He’s pulsating with desire, but the ball is in my court - he will have to wait and endure as I drive him to the edge.
I keep on brushing against his cock just like this, the tip of my finger going up and down, up and down. I look at him and he’s gritting his teeth, hunger flashing behind his eyes. He’s under my spell now.
I grab the hem of his boxers and, careful not to touch his cock, I lower them. His massive erection springs free, pointing up and straight at me as if accusing me of tortuous teasing. Just like I love it.
Still without touching it, I grab the hem of his trousers and slowly start pulling them down his legs as I go down to my knees. I look up at him, a grin on my face, and I know he’s bursting with anticipation. He’s going to have to wait.
I untie his shoes, taking more than the necessary time to do it, and take them off his feet. I then pull both his pants and boxers off, my hands then brushing against his lower legs and up. It’s almost as hard for me as it is for him - I want to tease, yes, but with his naked body towering over me, I’m teasing myself as well.
My hands climb up his legs and to his waist, my eyes not leaving his for one simple second. His cock his throbbing, almost jumping in place as if begging for me to touch it. And I do want it, I want it so bad it hurts.
But it’s not time yet.
My fingertips go around his waist, and then I lower them to his inner thighs, feeling the warmness of his skin as his breathing starts to grow deeper. I lean into him, his cock just one inch away from my parted lips; but I remain in place, still not touching it. His body is tensing up, and I know how hard he’s resisting the urge to simply grab my head and thrust his hips at me.
I open one hand and, with the open palm, I caress his balls, feeling their weight. Just by touching him there, his cock starts pulsing, thickening even more than what I thought would be possible. I let go of his ball and let one single finger rub his cock all the way from his root to his tip; I then take it off and go back down to the base, repeating the process over and over again. I’m actually surprised by the way he’s resisting his own wild urges.
I tilt my head sideways and, reaching for him, I plant my lips on his shaft. My kiss is soft, my mouth barely touching him, but even so I can feel the warm blood that runs through his cock furiously.
I part my lips slightly, feeling more of his flesh on me, and I suck gently, kissing his shaft on a downwards line all the way to his balls. I then go back up, stopping just one inch away from his tip. Pulling back, I look at him and let my tongue slowly escape my lips and reach for his tip.
His hands go to my head when my tongue touches him, but he simply lays them there, not moving at all. I start tracing circles around his cock, smoothly brushing my tongue over his glans. I know he can’t wait for me to start sucking on him, and I just love how the anticipation is almost palpable.
Without even grabbing his cock with my hand, I open my mouth and carefully engulf his whole tip, pulling back slowly over it. He grabs at locks of my hair and, when I look up at him, I notice he has his eyes closed.
I’ve been learning, yes, and I’m getting better. Way better.
I do it again, his glans inside my mouth, and then I slowly start lowering myself, his cock rolling over my lips and
deep into my mouth. I press his thickness upwards with my tongue and, the moment I feel him exhale sharply, I grab his cock with my right hand. His hands on my head jerk a little, almost as if he has been shocked, and I can’t help but feel my pussy become moist and dampening my thong.
Pulling back over his cock, I accompany the motion with my hand and, when enough of his cock is out of me, I grasp the rest of it with my other hand. Like that, I slowly start bobbing my head; I close my eyes then, his flavor and scent completely taking hold of all of my thoughts and pushing me towards a frenzy.
I start going faster, grabbing and caressing his balls with one hand while I suck him. I never knew I’d think of something as wicked as this, but I can tell you one thing: I never thought that having my mouth completely filled with a cock as huge as this would feel this amazing. And I’m just talking about my mouth, don’t even get me started about the rest!
I’m going as fast as I can now, and I’m not even using my hands; I’m grabbing at his round and hard ass, guiding his thrusts inside my mouth as I suck him with complete abandonment. I go like this until I feel my neck starting to hurt; I pull back, his cock jumping out of my mouth, but I don’t allow him any rest. I immediately start stroking him, moving my hand so fast I’m surprised I can even do it at all.
I notice he’s grabbing at my hair harshly, but I don’t care. I continue to suck him and, when I realize it, I’m even moaning. I always thought that women that moaned during a blowjob were pretty much making a show out of it - well, let me assure you right, that’s not the case with you. If I’m moaning, it’s not because I want to - it’s because I need to. And believe me, if you ever have a cock this thick and long inside your mouth, you’ll be moaning too.
I stop for a minute on his tip, lapping at it with my tongue and just sucking his glans with my eager lips. Even though he’s not one for loudness - that’s my department - I can even hear him grunt slightly.
President Stepbrother...With Benefits: A Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Page 16
