“It’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed about that.”
I was quiet for a moment. One thought, one feeling constantly nagged at me until I could no longer ignore it. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Disappointed, little darling? How on earth could you have disappointed me?” His brow was furrowed and confusion clouded his normally translucent blue eyes.
“I didn’t want you to think I was weak or that you had picked the wrong woman,” I admitted. His gaze softened and he ran the back of his hand down my cheek. Then he bent his head and placed his lips over mine in the most reverent kiss.
“You are the only woman worth picking, Georgie.” He cradled me against his body as he worshipped my lips with his, over and over, until I was left breathless.
“What are we going to do?” I finally managed after regaining not only my breath but my senses.
“We are going to let our lawyers handle this. You are going to point to every place on your body where he put his hands and I’m going to replace those ugly memories with pleasurable ones.”
“Jameson, this is serious! I don’t want to be distracted with sex.”
“I’m not trying to distract you, Georgie. And I’m taking this very seriously. Sean and the rest of the staff are handling it for now. Tomorrow, I’ll take over because, whether you like it or not, you’re mine. And nobody hurts what’s mine. Now show me.”
This alpha side of Jameson was new. He was always commanding because he knew exactly what he wanted, but he rarely spoke to me like that. His gaze was focused solely on me as if he was saying, “I’m waiting.”
I pointed to the most obvious and visible places first—my neck, ear, jaw. Jameson kissed every place Russell Atlee had touched. Pleasure surged through my body every time his warm lips grazed my skin.
“More,” Jameson urged.
Nervous fingers pointed to my thigh, and his gaze darkened with desire. He looked all too eager to have his mouth there, and bent his head toward my leg. I felt the heat of his lips scorch my skin, and I shivered. He kissed every inch of my thigh, starting with the outer part and then moving inward.
I slid down the bed and let my thighs fall open wider. He dragged his lips up to the apex of my body and then stopped. He looked up at me expectantly, waiting for me to show him. I slowly pointed to where he wanted. The corners of his lips turned up in a devious smile before he devoured me. The intensity of his mouth was overwhelming and my back immediately arched with pleasure. He feasted on me hungrily, nipping at my sensitive flesh, lapping up my wetness. The sounds he made were lewd, his groans combined with a noisy squelch as he greedily devoured me. His attention ignited a powder keg inside of me that was waiting to explode. I buried my hands in the thick strands of his hair and arched my back further, pressing myself against his mouth.
My skin felt like it was on fire and there was a tightness in the pit of my stomach. My legs went rigid and my entire body trembled, building up to a quaking and quivering orgasm. I was filled with nothing but pleasure as my body delighted in the aftershocks. Jameson placed light kisses on the insides of my thighs and then trailed more kisses up my stomach to my breasts, where he sucked a nipple into his mouth. Every inch of skin was sensitive, but I craved more of his mouth on me.
I placed a hand on his cheek, smoothing it over the rough stubble on his jaw. My thumb brushed against his lower lip and Jameson gently sucked it into his mouth. We stared at one another, our breaths heavy with lust and desire. I desperately wanted him to plunge into me and fill me, to truly claim me, but I hesitated to ask for it.
“I want to be yours, Jameson,” I whispered.
He hovered over me, studying me with his intense blue gaze.
“You already are, Georgie.” His expression was serious, but in the depths of his eyes, heat roared to life. He sat back on his knees and his abs bunched together and suddenly I realized where the term ‘washboard abs’ came from. Jameson held his shaft, thick and hard, loosely as he moved closer, fitting the crown against me.
“I’m protected,” I said hastily.
“I know. I’ve seen your medical records.” His smirk was devious and telling.
“Bastard,” I whispered.
“Is this what you want, Georgie?” His expression was back to serious, back to flickering heat that told me this was exactly what he wanted. But did I want this? I didn’t have to think because the answer came to mind easily.
“Yes.”
“Yes.” Georgie’s voice was barely a whisper, but there was no mistaking the look on her face. The look that said she wanted me to claim her, to mark her, to devour her.
I sat back on my heels, stroking myself along her slit. She was silky soft against my rigid length and I had to restrain myself from just plunging right into her. She didn’t deserve an animal. Not tonight, not for the first time. I pulled back and ran my fingers up and down her soaking wet pussy, ensuring she was ready for me. Georgie’s body squirmed beneath me with desire. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, stifling the moan of pleasure that dared to escape.
I grasped my cock to maintain some form of control and guided the tip just barely into the tightness of her center. I could feel her begin to pulse and I let out a growl. Georgie was going to kill me. I went slowly, excruciatingly slow. I knew I was large and she was tiny, and I didn’t want to hurt her. Inch by inch, my cock disappeared into her heat until I was finally buried.
“Jesus,” she hissed, her eyes flying open.
“Fuck,” I groaned. I waited, letting her adjust to the feel of me.
I started a steady, slow rhythm, moving in and out in what felt like minimal increments. I needed her to tell me or show me how fast, how hard, how slow, how soft. Georgie’s hands slid up my chest to my neck and she pulled me down, latching her lips onto mine. The movement sent me deeper inside her and I swallowed the moan she emitted. She disconnected our kiss and threw her head back, exposing her throat. I went in for the kill, nipping and sucking the delicate flesh. My hands slipped around her back and up to her shoulders. I held her tightly while I increased my pace.
“You feel so fucking good, Georgie,” I managed through gritted teeth. Her response was a series of whimpers and pants.
I brought my hands back down to her hips and sat up slightly. Wrapping her legs around my waist, I increased the tempo. The tiny room instantly heated with our labored breaths. Our bodies stuck to each other with sweat.
“I need more, Jameson,” Georgie panted. She ran her hands through her own hair and pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth. Her body writhed beneath mine. I slid a hand between our bodies and found her clit. Her back arched and her eyes flew open, big and green. Jackpot. I alternated between stroking her clit and flicking it between my fingers, bringing her to the brink over and over. Then, like a bastard, I deprived her of my fingers. Her groans of displeasure made me chuckle.
I bent over her and pulled her nipple into my mouth. She hissed out a sharp breath and I tugged a little harder before letting it fall from my mouth with an audible pop. I loved the way she squirmed against me, grinding her pussy into my cock, connecting us even further.
“Jesus, Georgie,” I growled. If she didn’t stop, then I was going to come and I didn’t want to, not yet; not when I was finally buried deep inside her.
I fell back against the bed, pulling her down on top of me. My cock slipped out and she was quick to fit me right back inside. She began a slow, torturous pace, rocking against me, letting my cock slide almost entirely out before pulling me back inside. She was driving me insane.
Then she leaned back, using my thighs to brace herself as she began her own dirty dance, exposing her perfectly pink pussy to me. I couldn’t help myself. I reached out one hand and rubbed her clit, rolling it between my fingers. She threw her head back, closed her eyes, and cried out loudly. I was going to fucking come undone with her riding me. That wasn’t going to happen.
I latched onto her and rolled her onto her back.
I grasped her thighs and held them against my hips as I sank deeply into her over and over until we were both gasping for breath. Sweat from my brow dripped down onto her bare chest and I leaned over to lick away the saltiness.
“Jameson,” Georgie began to chant and I could feel her body start to tremble beneath mine. She was close and so was I.
I pulled out and thrust deeply back into her, my actions rougher than necessary, but my blood boiled with need. It wasn’t enough for me to say the words, “You’re mine.” I had to mark her. I had to bury myself so deeply and spill into her and then she’d truly be mine. I had never felt these primal urges toward any other woman before, but with Georgie, I didn’t want anyone thinking they could take what belonged to me.
“I’m so close,” I managed through clenched teeth.
“Yes, Jameson. Please, God, yes.” The last word was almost a hiss. She slipped her hand between our bodies and stroked herself furiously, matching my punishing pace until we were both granted release and came together in a shaking and shuddering heap.
I collapsed on top of her, planting soft kisses on her naked flesh while I remained inside her. I wanted this connection forever. Under my chest, I could feel the thunderous beat of her heart; it was a perfect match for the rhythm of my own.
I looked down at her and could see that the lust, desire, and need that had clouded her vision were now replaced by the questions I had successfully kept at bay.
“Not yet, little darling. Don’t think about it yet,” I warned her quietly.
I slipped out of her and off the warm bed, pulling on my black boxer briefs. I walked to the tiny master bathroom and ran a washcloth under warm water. I returned to the bedroom and gently spread Georgie’s creamy white thighs, now coated with my orgasm, and cleaned her. She watched me with curious green eyes. I glanced up at her and smiled.
I returned the washcloth to the bathroom and when I slipped back beneath the sheets, I was disappointed to find that she was wearing underwear. I pulled her toward me, knowing she wanted to talk now.
“Why do you think the photos were released now?” she asked quietly.
“I’m not sure. Maybe he works for one of Governor Huntley’s super PACs?” I wouldn’t say the name Russell Atlee if I didn’t have to. The bastard didn’t deserve to live as far as I was concerned.
“Why would that even matter to a super PAC?”
“I’m ahead in the polls,” I said, then quickly amended my statement because we were a team. “We’re ahead in the polls.”
“They want the governor to win and it’s time to play dirty,” she added.
“They’re probably trying to bait me, too. I’ve promised all along to run a clean campaign, to not take money from super PACs and so far, I’ve done that. It’s my job as the Democratic candidate to show the American people that I’m the best candidate. I don’t need to resort to raping the fiancée of my opponent to win.”
“I wasn’t raped.” She was adamant about that. When she told me he touched her and that she wanted to get away but was paralyzed by fear, I heard the shame in her voice. But now, the tone of her voice was more forceful and confident.
“I know, but to me, it doesn’t matter. He didn’t have your consent. He touched what he shouldn’t have, and he will pay.”
“When you talk like that, you sound like some thug from south Boston.” She giggled and I laughed too.
I didn’t sound like a Kennedy or a Wahlberg, but when I got riled up, the Boston in me was strong. And I did know a few people who knew a thing or two about making people disappear. But I didn’t need to tell her that.
“I’m not a thug, sweetheart, but I’ll fight like hell to protect what’s mine. Now, close your eyes and go to sleep.”
I hated leaving Georgie in bed, but I didn’t want to disturb her. She looked gorgeous curled up in bed, her hair fanned out around her like spilled honey, her body covered by the tangle of sheets. I managed my few hours of sleep, wrapped around her body, and then promptly woke when my brain turned back on. There was work to be done and I needed to know my team had done its job.
We were on our way back to New York City. All of the events for the next week had been rescheduled. If I didn’t get to West Virginia or Kentucky, then fuck it. My chances of winning those two states were slim to none anyway. I checked in with the driver to see when we were stopping; I’d wait until then to talk with Sean, Lewis, and Jenkins.
To distract myself, I made a pot of coffee. I checked my emails and responded to the ones that did not pertain to Georgie, which weren’t many. I emailed my mother to update her because I knew the news would worry her. I started writing the statement I would give about the pictures, about the criminal nature of printing a woman being sexually assaulted. I could politicize this statement, making it about victims of sexual assault rather than about Georgie. But every time I started writing, the pictures flashed through my mind. The fear I saw on her face. The revulsion. His hands all over her body. Each image filled me with rage, desperation, and disappointment.
Before the bus stopped, I sent Lewis and Jenkins a text, telling then I needed an update. When we stopped, the driver got out and Sean, followed by Lewis, Jenkins, and a few other aides boarded the bus. We all sat around the tiny dining room table, crammed together like sardines. I couldn’t fucking wait to get off this bus and back to the city.
“We woke up a judge and got a temporary injunction against the media outlets that already posted the pictures,” Sean informed me. This was good news and my burden felt a little lighter.
“We released a brief statement saying we will go after any news source or media outlet that publishes those photographs, and that we have been working with lawyers on tracking down the source of the pictures.” Also good news to hear.
“But we can’t be silent for long.”
I didn’t want to hear this even though I knew he was right.
“The pundits are already talking shit.”
I looked up at him and saw him draw back from my anger. Sean rarely recoiled, so I knew he was worried. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know what they’re saying. Are we sure this asshole doesn’t work for Governor Huntley’s campaign?”
“Positive,” Sean confirmed.
Governor Lamar Huntley was my competition, the man on the Republican ticket. He and his picture-perfect family were popular. Who didn’t want to see a bunch of kids running around the White House, playing tag on the South Lawn? It was a fucking Norman Rockwell painting waiting to happen.
“Then it’s one of these shady super PACs.” Super PACs were a goddamn Pandora’s Box. I hated them and avoided taking money from them at all costs. My campaign was largely funded by smaller donations from ordinary citizens, something I was extremely proud of and mentioned often on the campaign trail.
“We’re considering it,” Lewis said, nodding to Jenkins. Of course they were, because they could be just as shady. One of the main reasons my campaign hired Lewis and Jenkins was to do some of the dirty work so I could keep my nose clean. Their job was to wade into the deepest of shit while I maintained a level of plausible deniability.
“I’ll make a statement when we get back to New York City. Until then, let the assholes speculate all they want. I also need sexual assault statistics.” The aides started click-clacking away on their laptops and I could guarantee that within minutes, my inbox would have the information I asked.
I heard the door to the bedroom open and turned to see Georgie poke her head into the hallway. Her hair was piled high in a messy bun, her face completely bare of makeup, and her lips were swollen from my kisses. I also saw more than one mark on her neck. I stood from my cramped seat and walked toward her. Her eyes followed my every movement and she smiled shyly as I slipped my hands around her waist and pulled her close. I kissed each mark that I left before tackling her lips. I didn’t care that my staff was on the bus, or that Lewis, Jenkins, and Sean were probably watching as well. Georgie was mine and everyone needed to know that.
“Good morning. Did we wake you up?” I said softly.
“No. I felt the bus stop.” Her fingers twisted in my T-shirt nervously and I reached up to cover her hand with mine. She looked up at me with her big green eyes and her face was covered in a delicious pink blush. Was she nervous? Embarrassed?
“We’re heading back to New York City. I moved up our photo shoot with Sierra Simmons and I’m going to have to make a statement when we get back.”
Georgie nodded her head and her eyes scanned the bus nervously. Everyone was watching us, their eyes curious and speculative. We were in murky waters now and they wanted answers. Was this still a scam or was this something more? I didn’t have answers to the questions they silently asked.
“I’ll have one of the aides forward you the new schedule. Get dressed and I’ll make you some breakfast.” I kissed Georgie lightly on the cheek before she returned to the tiny bedroom we shared.
I turned back around and everyone still stared, their gazes glued on me. I could see Sean struggling to suppress a smile. Lewis and Jenkins both had raised eyebrows.
“Stop gawking and get back to work.”
“Jameson and Georgie, sitting in a tree,” Sean began to sing.
“Shut the fuck up, asshole, or I’m going to toss you out of this bus. While it’s moving.”
I had a whole day to myself, a rarity on the campaign trail. Jameson rescheduled all the events for the next few days. Instead, we returned to New York City. I was eager to leave the bus behind, to sleep in a real bed, and to shower in something larger than a tin can. I couldn’t wait to dive into a bathtub and just soak. The bus was an economical form of transportation, but it was claustrophobic as hell.
Jameson spent his time working on a statement to give about my assault. I had a hard time with that term—assault. The more I said it aloud and the more I talked about it, the easier it became to accept. He wouldn’t let me read his statement, but I knew it troubled him because that night, when he came to bed, he stripped me and made love to me fiercely. He used his body to claim me over and over.
Presidential Bargain (The Presidential Promises Duet Book 1) Page 9
