The Darkhorse_A Powerplay Novella

by Selena Laurence

  "So, um, are you ok?" he asked, tentatively touching her cheek to direct her gaze to his.

  God. Was she?

  "Yeah. Of course." Right. The man had caught her moaning his name while she masturbated in his shower, then she'd fucked him like a porn queen. Yeah, she might never be ok again. Hot shame flooded her cheeks and she swallowed, her throat tight and dry.

  "Hey." His voice was soft. And so kind. He was always so damn kind. "I don't want to say I'm sorry, because that would be a complete lie, but I don't want you to feel—I don't know—bad or weird. That was completely on me. I invaded your privacy—because I thought something might be wrong—but still. And you were vulnerable right then. I shouldn't have—" He swore softly, turning his face away from hers.

  Lisa could now feel the evidence of this catastrophe dripping down her leg. "Can we have this conversation in a bit. Maybe out of the shower?"

  Jeff jerked back a touch, his mouth flattening into a tight line. "Of course. I'm sorry. I'll let you have some privacy." He stepped away and left the shower, picking up his clothes on the way out, not even bothering to don a towel. She watched that amazing ass as the door shut behind him, and then she collapsed back against the wall of the shower. There on the floor, wedged against the drain, was her handy dandy friend, all pink plastic and battery-operated utility. She buried her head in her hands.

  If ever there was a time to be struck dead, now was it. Just put me out of my misery, she thought, because this right here had to be worse than death. Who knew having sex with your husband could be so completely delicious and humiliating all at the same time?

  Jeff paced the floor of the kitchen, running fingers through his damp hair. He'd thrown on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, feet bare, five o'clock shadow firmly in place. He heard noises from upstairs and froze, but when no footsteps sounded on the staircase, he began pacing again.

  God, what the hell had he been thinking? To barge in on a woman while she was in the shower? Then not have the common decency to turn around and walk out when it was apparent she wasn't in any sort of danger or pain—except the very best kind.

  In his mind he saw her standing there again, slick, wet, hand between her legs, head thrown back as she said his name.

  He started to get hard again.

  Fuck!

  There were footsteps on the stairs, and Lisa's head peeked around the corner of the doorway.

  "Hi," he said, giving her his warmest smile. She was dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, her wet hair in a knot on top of her head, her face free of makeup in that way that always made her look so young and pure. But now he knew what was underneath that sweet school teacher exterior, he might never be the same again.

  "Hi," she answered, stepping into the room.

  "Would you like a drink?" he offered.

  "That's probably a good idea," she answered, shaking her head slightly. "The stronger the better."

  He grabbed a bottle from the cabinet over the refrigerator and poured them each a tumbler of bourbon. As he slid it across the kitchen counter to her their fingers brushed, and a current of pure desire snaked its way up his arm.

  She took a hefty swallow of her drink, grimacing as it went down.

  "I'm so sorry—" she began at the same time he said, "About what happened—"

  They stopped and laughed awkwardly.

  "Let me go first," he said. She nodded her assent.

  "I think I owe you an apology. Well, I owe you about six of them." He scratched his head and leaned a hip against the counter. "First of all, I'm sorry for barging in on you. I had no business doing that. I honestly thought you might be sick or hurt, but I should have tried a lot harder to get your attention with the door closed before I went tearing in there."

  She looked exceedingly uncomfortable so he continued quickly, afraid she might up and run if he didn't hurry.

  "When we made up the contract, I was so intent on making sure you didn't feel pressured and no one caught on this was fake, I didn't really think about the fact I was forcing you to go an entire year without any...companionship."

  Her cheeks turned bright pink and he nearly came undone. Apologize, you idiot, he thought as he took a quick slug of courage from his tumbler.

  "I'm in the same boat, but I've been on some pretty long deployments, so, well...you know what I mean. I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry if the terms of our arrangement have left you lonely. I didn't intend it that way and if you need to make some arrangements with a friend, I'll understand. As long as you're discreet I'm sure it will be fine."

  Shit. The idea of her doing what she'd just done with him, but with another man instead, really chapped his hide. It might be in name only, but she was legally his wife. His. He liked that. He didn't want other men in the picture.

  "Or," he amended quickly. "Maybe what just happened wasn't a mistake. I'd be more than happy to amend our contract—take out the 'no sex' clause. We are married after all." He raised an eyebrow and watched her.

  Her discomfort morphed into a grin. "It was pretty good, wasn't it?" she asked.

  "Fucking spectacular." His voice was so rough it was nearly a growl.

  "So sex is allowed? If we need to take the edge off or whatever?"

  Jeff gulped. Holy fucking lucky day. "I'm good with that if you are."

  "But just between us? I mean, it'll be monogamous sex."

  "Absolutely." His mind spun back to their joint shower forty minutes ago. "Which brings me to my other apology. I'm so sorry for not thinking about protection."

  "Oh!" She flapped a hand at him. "Don't worry about that, I'm covered. And clean. I mean, I hope you know I'd be clean."

  He breathed a sigh of relief. "Of course. And I am as well. Military makes sure we're tested regularly." He took a step closer to her. "So if you have the birth control covered, we're both clean, and this is monogamous sex, does that mean...?"

  She laughed then and it made him feel like a hundred little birds had just taken off inside his chest.

  "I think it means more shower sex, Colonel."

  Hale-fucking-llujah indeed, Jeff thought.

  Chapter 11

  "I knew it!" Nell cried in triumph. "I knew you couldn't live in the same house as all that prime Grade A man meat and not give in."

  Lisa looked around the sports bar they were sitting in and put a finger to Nell's lips. "Shhh. You don't need to announce it to the entire room."

  Nell grinned like a maniac. "Face it, the Colonel is hot and you want him."

  Lisa shrugged, but couldn't help smiling. "He's pretty hot."

  "How hot?" Nell's gaze narrowed.

  "So hot."

  Both women burst into laughter.

  "But seriously, is this in your contract now? Like, sex three times a week or something?"

  Lisa shook her head. "Of course not, that would make it prostitution." She thought for a moment. "Which it sort of is."

  "If that's prostitution then all marriage is. There's always sex and money involved in a marriage. Yours is no different. You just put an end date on it. That's all."

  The end date. Lisa's chest burned a touch at that. It reminded her this wasn't real. As much fun as she was having with Jeff, both in and out of the bedroom, they were only passing the time until he'd done his duty, gotten his promotion, proved he could handle the job. Then all this was over. He wasn't actually interested in her, or in being married. He'd done it to get a promotion and she couldn’t forget it.

  "Well, it is different because we're not in love," she said dryly. "That's usually a precursor to the money and the sex."

  "Or maybe you're just doing it in reverse?" Nell asked hopefully.

  Lisa scoffed. "Please. I don't think Jeff's had any relationship that lasted longer than a deployment ever. He's only with me because he wants a promotion. Don't forget how this all started."

  "So you don't think you could fall for him?"

  Lisa's brow furrowed. That was the frightening part about it all. She was b
eginning to realize she could fall for him. But that wasn't in the cards, and she needed to be cautious because of it. They'd only been having sex for a few days, but she'd been very careful to keep it light—and dirty. They were fucking—on the kitchen counter, the shower, the sofa in the TV room—they weren't making love. No beds, no tender moments afterwards.

  "Lisa?" Nell asked gently. "Are you already falling for him?"

  "No!" Lisa snapped too emphatically. "Of course not. You need to stop romanticizing this. It's sex. And money. And a work promotion. And that's all it'll ever be."

  Nell nodded. "Ok, if you say so."

  "I do." Lisa raised an eyebrow and gave her friend the same look she gave recalcitrant second graders.

  Nell laughed. "Yes, ma'am. No more romanticizing." She paused. "But will you tell me about the sex?"

  "It's spectacular," Lisa answered. "Absolutely spectacular."

  She only hoped the whole thing wouldn't end in spectacular heartache.

  "So how is married life treating you?" Kamal Masri, the First Gentleman of the United States, teased.

  Jeff flipped him the bird, but couldn't help the grin that broke out on his face.

  "Gentlemen," said Teague, giving Jeff a hard look. "I think our boy may be holding out on us. That's a pretty big smile for a man who's contractually obligated to give up sex for a year."

  All eyes turned to Jeff. Well, shit. That secret hadn't lasted but fifteen minutes when confronted with his best friends.

  Jeff sighed. "That would be because we're not sticking to the terms of the contract."

  Teague groaned in frustration, Kamal raised an eyebrow, and from across the room Derek could be heard shouting, "Do tell!"

  "You didn't. Please tell me you didn't have sex with your new wife," Teague lamented.

  "So what if he did?" Kamal responded. "He's married to the woman, she's a babe, as you'd say, and they're adults. I'm not seeing the problem."

  "The problem is the contract is now voided. Meaning, this marriage is as real as any other, and she can demand half of everything he has when they get divorced. I worked damn hard on that contract, making sure she didn't get a penny over what was needed to pay off her debts and buy her a house for a price Jeff agreed to. Our man has assets well beyond that. Now he's left them unprotected because he couldn't keep it zipped around his new wife."

  Jeff scowled at the Supreme Court Justice, but before he could answer, Derek interceded.

  "She seemed like a very nice woman, I really doubt she'll go after his money. It sounds like he's already being very generous, and he approached her for this deal. It's not like she was trolling for a Sugar Daddy."

  "I'm a lot more interested in how or why this turn of events came about?" asked Kamal.

  "Oh, I can guess pretty well how it came about," muttered Derek, whose own marriage had started as a relationship for public relations purposes only.

  Kamal and Teague snickered while Jeff glared at Derek. "How it happened is none of your damn business. But it has." He gave Teague a hard look. "And she's not the type to try to take my money, it’s not even an issue. We simply realized a year was a long time to go without certain benefits a marriage can easily provide."

  He shrugged. It was the truth. Part of it anyway. The part he wasn't telling them, of course, was how infatuated he was with her. They'd had sex exactly seven times, and he could describe each event in vivid detail. In fact, the details lived in his imagination to the point he was having trouble concentrating at the office, he'd lost a sparring match to Kamal for the first time ever yesterday, and he'd caught himself humming Christmas carols in the car while he drove.

  Marriage was simultaneously the best and worst thing that had ever happened to him.

  "Well, I guess you'll all get a chance to see it live and in action at Jeff's first ever Christmas party," Kamal added. "I'm still disappointed I won't be there." Kamal and his wife, the President, weren't often able to attend normal social gatherings as they would draw all of the attention from what the event was intended for. It was Kamal's one frustration with his official position, but something he'd had to accept.

  "I'll have another one after Jessica leaves office," Jeff reassured him.

  "Look at him," Scott said as he entered the Powerplay condo from the hallway outside where Kamal's Secret Service detail kept watch. "He's become a regular party host. After all these years of living like a hermit."

  Jeff flipped Scott the bird like he had the others earlier. The problem with having a group of happily married, successful friends was they didn't have much to worry about in their own lives, so they tended to focus on his. Although, Scott was spectacularly single. Why weren't they interrogating him? The military strategist in him took over.

  "How about you?" Jeff asked, rotating toward the younger man.

  Scott had been the Chief of Staff to Senator Carries for nearly four years. He was one of politics' rising stars, destined not for political office, but for something like Secretary of State or Chief of Staff in the White House.

  "What about me?" Scott said, moving to the bar they kept fully stocked. Each week the men all met to socialize, and strategize how to achieve their goals with regards to power and career advancement. Over the last couple of years, however, Teague, Derek, and Kamal had all settled down not only with wives, but also in positions of enormous power and influence. These days there was a lot more socializing than strategizing.

  "Our soldier's trying to change the subject," Kamal said with a raised brow. "But we'll allow it because you haven't said much about how everything's going since the Senator got diagnosed."

  Scott's boss and best friend, Hugh Carries, one of the most powerful men in Congress, had been diagnosed with lung cancer ten weeks ago.

  Jeff watched his friend, realizing he'd been so preoccupied with his promotion he'd failed to check in. Scott deserved more support than that, and Jeff felt guilty for his selfishness.

  Scott cleared his throat. "It's worse than we're letting on to the press," he said, his voice soft. "It's metastasized to his liver."

  "Jesus," Derek cursed from his seat on a barstool. He put a hand on Scott's arm. "I'm really sorry."

  "You should have told us," Jeff said, his brow furrowed. "What can we do? All hands on deck."

  "I thought you were in the Army not the Navy," Teague murmured. Jeff flipped him off. Again. It was one of those days.

  "I wish there were something," Scott answered. "The staff are being fantastic, putting in extra hours. I've had to put my deputy in charge of the day-to-day so I can be with Elisa as much as possible while he's going to treatments."

  "How's she handling it?" Kamal asked, referring to the Senator's wife.

  "She's strong—amazing, really—and she's refusing to give up hope, but I can tell you guys what I can't anyone else." He looked up at every gaze in the room. "I don't think he's going to make it."

  "Fuck," Kamal whispered. He shook his head for a moment before standing and crossing the room where he pulled Scott into a quick hug, patting him on the back hard a couple of times. "May I tell the President so she can be prepared?"

  Scott nodded as Derek pushed a glass of vodka on the rocks into his hand. He took a long swig, coughing lightly as he brought the glass away from his lips.

  "We need to think about who the Governor should appoint, if it's necessary," Derek said.

  "What about Scott?" Kamal offered.

  "I can't even go there," Scott said sadly.

  "Would Elisa be willing?" Teague asked.

  Scott's lips twisted into a wry smile. "She doesn't even like him being in the Senate. It's been a big bone of contention between them. She's been pressuring him to take the Governor's seat so they can go home."

  "Then it needs to be you," Derek said decisively.

  Every set of eyes in the room fell on him. Derek was the political consultant who had helped half the candidates in the country win their offices. These days he focused his considerable talent and resources on
non-traditional candidates, having put LGBTQ and minority candidates in office in even some of the nation's most conservative states, but that didn't mean he wasn't still on top of the traditional political scene.

  "If you don't take it, Edwards, the Lieutenant Governor will be pressing for it, and we all know what a douchebag he is."

  Every head in the room nodded. The Lieutenant Governor of Wisconsin, Senator Carries’ home state, was known in private to have an affinity for women dangerously young, as well as a drinking problem that went back to his fraternity days.

  "Does the Governor know the severity of the diagnosis?" Kamal asked gently.

  Scott shook his head. "We're keeping it under wraps as long as possible."

  "Ok, but tell me as soon as you let him know and I'll have the President call him to discuss any possible appointment to fill the seat. We want to be ahead of the curve on this one. Hugh's seat is too important to let it evolve organically."

  Teague's gaze shot to Jeff's, telegraphing the sadness he felt on behalf of their friend.

  "In the meantime," Jeff said, "let's drink a toast to the Senator and to his recovery, because it's not over until it's over and if anyone can beat this it's him."

  They all lifted their glasses in a toast. "To the Senator," they repeated before drinking.

  "Pool?" asked Derek.

  "I'll spot Scott three," Jeff said, grinning.

  "Fuck you," Scott said, shaking off his sorrow. "I can kick your ass one-handed."

  The smack talking began, and Jeff settled in to enjoy a night with his friends, and the hope that his new wife would be there when he got home. He couldn't think of a better way to end the work week than this. Life was good.

  Chapter 12

  It was finally Christmas tree day and Lisa was bursting with excitement. She'd woken early, but as usual, Jeff was up before her. All his years of military training meant he was an early riser no matter what day of the week.

  "Good morning," he said, his voice still rough with sleep. He was standing in the kitchen shirtless in a pair of jeans that hung off his hip bones, showing the beginning of the vee that arrowed down below his waist. The man was like sex on a stick.