by Ronna Gage
Rae Anne Jamison. I can’t believe you said that. You are the daughter of Robert Jamison, Democrat Extraordinaire. You are very strong.
Landy’s voice gave her confidence. She drew in a deep breath. “I love you.”
Landy smiled. “I love you, too.” He blew her a kiss, and then his image faded away.
Her eyes welled up with tears. “I will always love you.”
A tap at the door drew her attention. She turned to face the visitor.
“Rae Anne, it’s time…” Robert said, He and Samantha stopped and gaped at her.
“What is it?”
“You look beautiful,” Samantha whispered.
Rae Anne smiled. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
“No, I think it’s beautiful,” her father replied. He extended his elbow to her. “If you will allow me, I would be happy to give you away to such a fine young man.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Rae Anne rested her hand in the crook of Robert’s elbow. This was her wedding day, and Landy had shown up after all.
* * * *
“Congressman Carmichael? A word, please?”
Marcus turned to the familiar voice of his assistant, Pamela Reimer. Her approach meant only one of two things. He stepped away from the bar, out of hearing range of the bar staff.
“Yes, Ms. Reimer, what can I do for you?” His professional manner did little to stop the forth coming tirade.
“You can stop the bullshit.”
The green-eyed beauty standing before him now and the one he fucked yesterday morning couldn’t possibly be the same. “What do you mean, Pam?” Marcus squeezed her hand softly and whispered in her ear. “Didn’t you get satisfied yesterday?”
“I thought you two were through?” she fumed.
Marcus admitted, to himself, that Pamela had good cause for her upset. He did tell her yesterday that he and Rae Anne didn’t have a chance. Too many ghosts in her closet, he had cited. Yet, today, the two were attending Marcus’s wedding reception to the very woman he claimed too much of a liability.
“You told me yesterday you loved me? Was that a lie?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.” Marcus said with a wink.
“You son of a bitch.” Scorned, Pamela didn’t hold back her contempt. Marcus could see she had the very look of hell about to rise. “What would your little wife think if she knew you fucked someone else on the morning before her wedding day?”
Threats only made Marcus angry. A lesson he intended on Pamela learning this minute. With the ferocity of the anger burning inside him, he grabbed Pamela’s arm. Looking around, he pulled her in the direction of a dimly lit hallway. Once alone, Marcus pushed her roughly into the corner out of sight of his wedding guests.
“Pamela, don’t be crazy.” Marcus jerked the skirt of her peach gown up to her waist. With his hands, he felt the soft cloth of her nylons. He followed the strap of her garter until he found the thatch of hair that he was searching for. He heard the angered sounds of her breath change. She teetered from anger to arousal.
“Pamela, I can’t let you tell my wife.” Marcus bobbed his eyebrows at her. “No panties?” His touch met the hairs of Pamela’s pussy. “Hot and wet!” Pamela’s breath caught when he skimmed her swollen lips. “She’s a part of something much bigger.” Marcus’s finger explored her deeply. “Even bigger than us.”
“Like what, Marcus? What is she a bigger part of?”
Pamela’s anger quickly cooled with his masterful touch in the right places. Within seconds, she reached her orgasmic pitch. She pulled the bodice of her dress down to reveal perky breasts. “I want you, Marcus.”
“Shhh, you can’t make any noise.” He pulled one nipple into his mouth, and then the other. Pamela worked frantically at his belt. “No.” Marcus hissed when she unfastened its buckling. “I will tend to you.”
Marcus secured her hands above her head. “Don’t move.” Pamela lifted and adjusted her leg wider. He bent down and pressed his lips to Pamela’s swollen nipple and pulled it into his mouth. He massaged her breast with his left hand, and used the longest finger of his right to finger fuck her until she silently spilled herself out onto his hand.
“Marcus!” Pamela looked at him with lust-filled, dreamy eyes. “I wished you married me today. I love the way you love me.”
Marcus gave a small smile at hearing that comment. He shook his head and took two wet wipe napkins from his breast pocket. Handing one to Pamela, he opened the other for himself. He cleaned all evidence of their sex and then took the trash from Pamela. Carefully, he wrapped them in a handkerchief and stuck them in his pocket.
Marcus gathered her hands and placed them above her head again. Leaning against the wall, he got close to her face.
“Pamela”—he tenderly stroked her cheek with a finger—“I never said you and I would be married. I never made you any promises of anything, other than sex.”
He cupped her still-bared right breast. She thrust out her chest toward to him. He skimmed his thumb over her hardened nipple, up the valley between her breasts, to her throat, until it found that pliable spot of her larynx, and then he applied the pressure, which got Pamela’s attention.
“You’re choking me,” she gasped.
“Yes, and if you open your mouth to anyone about us, I will ruin your whole family. I’ll see you run out of town with your tail between your long, beautiful legs. Do you understand me?”
Pamela frantically nodded. Her face turned red.
Marcus saw the fear in her eyes. His dick got hard at the feeling of power. “That’s my girl. Now,” Marcus eased the pressure on her throat. He found her nipple again and worked the bud to hardness with his thumb and finger. “If you behave yourself, I will see you often, and see that you are taken care of, and your family will be left alone,” Marcus whispered seductively. With a finger, he found her still-soaking pussy. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Pamela shook her head.
“Good.” He licked her juice off his finger. Marcus guided her hand to his stiff cock and then unzipped his trousers. “I want your lips on me.”
Although she was angry with him for using her as some common slut, Marcus knew she feared making him angry. At this point, she looked torn between love and Washington politics. She knelt down, took his cock into her mouth, and sucked him while he felt her bared breasts. Sated for the moment, Marcus helped her to her feet. “Now, this is our little secret.” Marcus’s thumb glided over her cheek. “And if you want to continue to be a part of it, you will do as you’re told.”
“I will do anything for you. I love you,” Pamela cried into his arms. “Why can’t I be your wife? Why don’t you love me?”
Marcus put his arm around her. “I love you, too, but you’re better at being my lady, not my wife.”
“You mean your whore, don’t you?”
Marcus shrugged. “However you like to call yourself.”
Pamela stumbled back, her eyes reflecting the pain.
“I will see you when I get back, and I will have a big surprise for you.” He gently kissed her lips. “Now go on and keep quiet. He watched her turn away and then walk back to the party. “She has no choice but to keep our little secret.”
* * * *
Rae Anne looked around at the luxury accommodations of the honeymoon suite. Romantic décor.
“What do you think?” Marcus asked behind her.
She almost cringed at the closeness. “I would’ve been happy in the Presidential Suite.” Seems more fitting to this beautifully romantic room…for lovers.
“Only the best for my bride.”
Marcus smiled. He kissed her lips and fondled her breast through the blouse of her getaway attire.
“I want you, Mrs. Carmichael.”
His hot breath on her neck roused the goose bumps on her skin. “Let me get into something more comfortable,” she suggested, stalling for a second more of time.
“I’ll order room service.�
� He hesitated letting her go, but did so with a smile. “Hurry back.”
Rae Anne smiled. “Soon as I can.” She walked into the bathroom, shut the door, and sat on the side of the tub dreading the time she left the solitude. “Brides are supposed to be nervous on their wedding night. It’s natural, isn’t it?” Excitement and anxiety are also natural, but dread? Is that natural too?” She stood up and studied the woman that stared back at her in the mirror. “Mrs. Congressman Marcus Carmichael.”
She couldn’t reconcile the name with the image. She took off her dress and reached for her new nightgown, her wedding present from Marcus. Slipping it on, it fell to her ankles. “Marcus has exquisite taste.” The long negligee hugged her curves. The deep V cut in the front matched the one cut in the back. “I look like a Greek goddess.” She giggled.
Rae Anne looked herself over in the mirror again. Her heart grew heavy. This day should be the happiest day of my life. Yet, the best she could consider was contentment. Marcus did love her. He had to. Why else would he help me through the difficult times after Landy’s death? Now, he was her husband, her partner in life, the father of her future children…and she found not even an ounce of love for him. Sighing with guilt, she found one ray of hope. I will learn to love him…eventually. “Okay, it’s now or never.” Rae Anne switched off the light and joined Marcus in the bedroom. If it doesn’t work out, we can always get a divorce.
“Wow!” Marcus looked her over. “You look beautiful. I love the way the light enhances the blonde of your hair, the way it spills around your face and shoulders.”
The pressure alleviated a small bit, and her spirit perked up. “Thank you. I hope you aren’t disappointed.”
“I could never be disappointed in you. You’re perfect.” Marcus handed her a glass of champagne.
“You’re so sweet.”
“No, I’m not sweet. I’m a man in love.” Marcus clanked his glass to hers. “To us, and a life filled with sweetness.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Rae Anne took a sip of the bubbly nectar. “I can use some sweetness in my life.”
“I hope you’re ready for it then.”
* * * *
Marcus took their empty glasses and placed them on the counter. He led her to the king-size bed. “I love you,” he whispered. He bent over and dimmed the lights, and the starched material of his shirt echoed in the quiet. He turned his gaze to her and watched in silence while she wrung her hands, but he saw no other signs of retreat. As he scanned her, his cock hardened. I can’t wait to be between your legs. “Rae Anne, tonight we don’t rush anything. This is a time to enjoy and take pleasure.”
She nodded.
Gentle with soft strokes of his hands, he eased the gown off her shoulders and then knelt down to help her out of the material gathered on the floor. He laid her on the bed and allowed himself to take in the sight of her nakedness from her feet to her eyes. “Perfection!”
She smiled but gave no indication of stopping him. He knew she wouldn’t deny him. The blonde hair that covered her pussy made his mouth water. It peeved him that he hadn’t had her body first, but he had it now.
“I will be gentle with you.” Marcus bent and tasted her. She jumped at his touch. “Easy, sweetness. Lay back and enjoy my touch.”
Marcus had her wet and ready for his penetration within a matter of minutes. I looked forward to molding you to my idea of a perfect Washington wife and bad girl in one woman. He removed his shirt and then his pants. Standing before her, he let her gaze at his naked body. She smiled demurely and blushed innocently in perfect virginal fashion. I can’t believe how lucky I am. Not only did I marry the daughter of the most influential man in Washington. I gained a powerful ally in my political corner. He opened Rae Anne’s thighs. She stiffened up immediately.
“It’s all right. I’m here.” Marcus smoothed his palm down her trim stomach. He used his thumb and finger to open the folds of her pussy, and then inserted a finger to test her readiness. He lowered himself onto her, and without hesitation, he entered her. Her inner channel was hotter on his cock than he expected, and he achieved his orgasm quickly.
She looked at him. “Did I do something wrong?”
Her innocence made him hard again. “No, I’m only getting started.” He kissed her deeply. I may not have a virgin, but I got a wife that hasn’t been used much. God, I feel lucky. Like the victorious man in battle, he took her again—the spoils of war.
Landy Laurent will be nothing more than a distant memory.
Chapter Eighteen
Eight Years Later
Rae Anne Jamison-Carmichael sat in her den and reflected on the recent changes in her life: the widow of a Unites States senator, who, at the time of his death from a heart attack, was the frontrunner for the Democratic nominee for the president. Her father had been his biggest supporter. The last few weeks, the good intentions of friends crowded her. The unsolicited attention made coping with grief easier, but she felt quite capable of taking care of herself. Her marriage to Marcus only reinforced her skill to do the job. Since Marcus Carmichael’s death, her life had been turned upside down with all the extra help and attention.
Pamela Reimer passed her line of vision. It’s odd that Marcus’s personal assistant is now a constant part of my life. “Pamela?” In a flash, Pamela came to her. Rae Anne looked at the older woman. “Let’s talk.”
“I’d love to.” Her chipper reply added more oddity to the situation.
Rae Anne didn’t know how to begin. “I’m going to be direct. Your duties of an assistant don’t have anything to do with taking care of Marcus’s widow. And I can’t understand why you continue to hang around.”
Pamela’s cheerful attitude fell. She fidgeted in her chair and tried a time or two to avoid Rae Anne’s gaze.
“Just tell me what’s going on, and tell me the truth.”
“The permanent placement of this position is a fact-finding mission,” Pamela said in an obvious attempt to stall.
“What is it exactly are you looking for?”
“Papers.”
“Papers? For what?”
“Christopher is Marcus’s son,” she blurted out.
Rae Anne said nothing, but counted back the time and years of her and Marcus’s history. Three years ago, about the time Marcus set his sights on the senate seat to leapfrog to the presidency, Marcus had stayed out most nights. “Making connections,” he had told her. She looked at Pamela. “I’m not surprised.”
The woman gaped. “You’re not?”
“No. I guess I knew it all along. Marcus’s attachment to the boy did seem odd, but now it makes sense.”
Pamela nodded. “I can’t say I’m sorry. I wouldn’t trade Chris for nothing. And, to be honest, I’ve loved Marcus for years.”
“I know.” The truth now out, Rae Anne’s spirit were set free.
“I do have to ask. What do you intend to do with us?”
“What Marcus would’ve done if he openly claimed his son, and probably should have done all along.”
“What?”
“Set up a trust fund in Christopher’s name. The details will be basic. You will have access to it to cover expenses for his well-being. I will be one of the executors of the trust. When he turns twenty-one, he will get control of the whole account.”
“What about the connection to him and Marcus?” Pamela inquired.
“I regret not having children of my own. I guess it’s just not in the cards for me. Yet, Marcus had a child with you, loved him, and even more or less claimed him. That news puts Marcus in a whole new light these days, for me.” Over the years, Marcus had remembered her birthdays, and he’d always cared for her in those times she felt blue or not well due to her depression. He had shown genuine affection for her. Although Marcus was kind, he was not the love of her life. That love had died long ago in the Iraqi desert ten years ago. No, in her heart, Marcus remained her best friend.
“I don’t understand.”
“Marcus didn’
t love me. He loved you, Pam.”
Pamela broke down in tears. “But not enough to marry me. He married you instead.”
Rae Anne felt the pang of regret for Pamela’s happiness. She knew exactly what she would be facing soon enough. “What a waste for both of us.”
“I loved someone that much once. I understand the grief you are going through.”
“How?” Pamela sniffled.
“The only man I ever loved, the family I longed for, died. With them, a part of me died. The good thing I can pass to you and your son is Marcus’s money, his name, and his acknowledgement.”
“How can I ever repay you?” Pamela sobbed. “I mean, aren’t we supposed to hate one another?”
Rae Anne laughed. “I don’t hate anyone. Marcus was my best friend. And for his loyalty to me and my father, I will make sure the love child he helped create is cared for.” Rae Anne looked at a picture of Marcus. “It’s something I think he would have wanted. As far as not marrying you, I can’t answer that for sure. I see that I gave him political connections. You gave him a genuine love and a son. One outweighed the other.”
Pamela nodded. “Is there anything I can do?”
Rae Anne thought a second. “Yes, seeing as this is your last day to work in my house, you can get some boxes and clean out the desks of documents necessary for the office. During that time, we will hash out the particulars of the trust.”
Pamela stood up. She looked at Rae Anne and smiled. “I have them in the car.”
Two hours later, Rae Anne gazed at a painting of a red sunrise. “They call that a fisherman’s sunrise,” she said to Pamela, who worked on taping the last box of official documents. The scene reminded Rae Anne of the sea. The freedom of the adventure enthralled her. “The sea is a far cry from Washington politics.” She looked at the four boxes on Marcus desk. “I hate Washington.”
Pamela stopped in her task. “If you could go away, where would you go?”
“Hmm. If I could, I’d find a place where there were no lies and deceit.”
