Prime Minister (Frisky Beavers #1)

by Ainsley Booth

  Nothing matters beyond him spinning me around and hoisting me onto the counter. The hard shove of his hips between my thighs. His mouth on mine, his lips and tongue. A hard scrape of his teeth against my lower lip, my neck.

  The cold mirror against my back.

  His hands on mine, pressing me harder against the glass, and then releasing me with a groan when our kisses grow desperate and needy. He brings my hands to his towel and I yank it away, then circle his cock with my fingers.

  He throbs in my fist, hot and hard.

  “Not here,” he growls as I rub the thick crown of his erection against my sex. “Our bed.”

  Those two words slice heat straight into my belly. Ours.

  We tumble together across the blankets, limbs entwined before we’re even fully horizontal. Our breathing slows, synchronizes, as Gavin strokes between my legs, spreading my slickness. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, wanting as much contact between us as possible as he notches his cock against my entrance and slowly presses into me.

  We have this. Nobody can take this from us. How he watches me so carefully as I stretch around his cock. How I roll my hips to take him even deeper.

  My arms fall back against the bed as he surges into me again, and he follows me down, his hands finding mine and holding on tight as he makes love to me.

  He’s warm and strong above me, his muscles flexing and rolling as he finds all the places that make my breath hitch and my belly pull tight. I wrap my legs higher around his torso, wanting more of that, yes, there, and he reads my body and mind.

  This is perfect, I think. It’s not. Outside, the world still rages on, and tomorrow I’ll be mad again. But not at him. For him. With him.

  But we’ll stand together because we have this truth between us. This is love, and it’s forever.

  53

  Gavin

  The press conference doesn’t go that well. I get my back up at the hostility in some of the reporters’ faces, and Ellie’s nervous, but we survive it, and Caroline is thrilled with the viral response to our awkwardness.

  “People really identify with how painful that was for you both,” she says, and I try not to grind my teeth.

  “The other thing that people are responding well to is the rumour that your parents are coming to Ottawa to meet her over Thanksgiving.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’d like pictures.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Because I think her father hates me and it’s going to be fucking awkward. “It’s a private family event.”

  “How about an interview with the two of you, preparing for your first co-hosted dinner? That’s something a lot of millennials can identify with.”

  I start to make a smart-ass remark about being a little old for that, but I stop because Ellie’s not, and frankly, as embarrassing as it is, this is my first time having a family dinner with a serious girlfriend. Pointing out my age won’t help the situation. “I’ll ask her.”

  “She already said it would be fine.”

  “You asked her?”

  “Actually the reporter did and Ellie forwarded it to me.”

  I’m out of my chair and yelling before I can rein it in. “Reporters cannot contact her!”

  Caroline just rolls her eyes. “She’s a grown woman, Gavin, and a professional to boot. She knows how to handle contacts like that. It’s a side effect of her having a public position with a public email address. It’s not a big deal.”

  It’s a big fucking deal. “I’m talking about it in the scrum this afternoon.”

  “That’s a good use of your national platform.”

  “Thanks,” I say, ignoring her sarcasm. “Anything else?”

  “Not right now. Have a good Question Period.”

  I intend to. The House is back in session and my government, green and young as it is, is kicking ass and taking names. We’re going to make some missteps along the way, but since their leader spent the summer fucking up repeatedly like a goddamn teenager, and still managed to come out of it focused on policy and governance, they can and will survive their own speed bumps, too.

  Three days later, I’m raking leaves in the backyard at 24 Sussex for a photo op. Off camera, Max is losing his shit laughing at me and beside me, Ellie is barely managing to school her amused look into something more endearing.

  “I’m wearing exactly the wrong outfit for this,” I growl.

  She picks a leaf off my cashmere sweater and nods. “Yeah. You totally are.” She glances sideways at the photographer and gives him a smile so perfect I know whatever she’s about to ask for will be granted. “Can we take five minutes for a quick wardrobe change?”

  “Definitely.” He grins back. “You know what’s best, Ms. Montague.”

  I wait until we’re inside to point out that it’s rude of him to flirt with Ellie in front of me.

  “He wasn’t flirting,” she says with a laugh as she rifles through my dresser. “Here, wear this Henley. And an undershirt…this black one.”

  “Can I put on jeans?”

  She gives me a careful look. “Sure. But then I probably should as well, right?”

  Our carefully coordinated outfits hit the floor and we pull on regular clothes. Jeans—mine darker, hers lighter—and cotton shirts.

  “This might be too casual,” she says, checking her makeup in the mirror. “But it’s us and it’s real, and that’s all that matters.”

  Truer words have never been spoken. I grab my now-discarded tie and roll it up, using that as an excuse to go into my dressing room again.

  When I step back into our room, she’s holding out her hand for me. “Ready?”

  “Definitely,” I say, taking her fingers in mine. But instead of following her down the stairs, I hold on tight and sink to one knee. My heart is racing, equal parts nerves and excitement. I take a deep breath and squeeze her hand. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to do this, Ellie Montague. Thought about a dozen different ideas, all fancy and elaborate. But you’re right. This is us. This is real. And I’m not always able to be this guy for you. Jeans and a t-shirt. Raking leaves and being silly. But I want to be, as often as I can, for the rest of my life.”

  She’s staring at me, wide-eyed, and a surprised smile is bursting across her face. “Gavin…”

  “Before you I wasn’t a whole man. I was all these different pieces, and I couldn’t imagine how they’d ever align. I put as many together as I could and pretended that was how it was supposed to be.” I turn her hand over and cover her palm with my other hand, pressing the ring between our fingers. “Turns out I needed your pieces, too. You complete the edges of my puzzle and fill in the gaps in the middle, too.”

  Her eyes are bright with unshed tears. She’s never been more beautiful, but I might get shit for making her cry in the middle of a photo shoot. It’s worth it if she says yes.

  “And like a puzzle, I know that it doesn’t take much to tap at us and crack us back into those individual pieces. Work and history and press and family…there are things that will challenge us. I want to glue our pieces together. Forever.” I slide my hand out of the way, leaving the solitaire on her palm. “Ellie, will you marry me?”

  “Yes,” she whispers as a few of the tears slide free from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. “I will marry you in a heartbeat.”

  Her hands are still shaking as I rise to stand with her, so I help her slide on the ring before I pick her up and kiss her senseless.

  We’re more than a few minutes late for the photo shoot, but when we get out there, her cheeks are pink and her eyes are sparking just as bright as the diamond she now wears on her ring finger.

  54

  Max

  Gavin invites me to 24 Sussex for Thanksgiving. Not out of pity, since I’m alone in a new city. No. My best friend—the prime minister of the entire country—needs back up in case his future father-in-law causes a scene.

  Apparently Ellie’s father didn’t take kindly to hi
s daughter being dragged through the media, although she seems to have insulated herself well from the noise.

  I’m a good friend. I go, of course.

  It helps that their cozy holiday feast is catered by one of the best restaurants in the city and I really like turkey.

  Plus Gavin and his nephew are usually good for a game of football, and I’m feeling restless, a fact that Ellie picks up on right away.

  “How’s the new job going, Max?” she asks as she hands me a beer.

  “Great.”

  “And the house?”

  It’s big and empty and so far I’ve had zero sex in it. “It’s great.”

  “In my experience, when things are really great, people tend to elaborate on answers about new jobs and new houses.”

  I wink at her. “Maybe in my experience, short answers tend to make beautiful women curious.”

  She rolls her eyes, immune to my charm. “Everything’s really okay? We haven’t seen you much since you moved here.”

  Everything is fine. I’m just obsessed with a woman I can’t find. “I’ve really thrown myself into work. I’m still doing some consulting on cases back in Vancouver in addition to building a patient base at the hospital here.”

  “A workaholic, just like Gavin.” She squeezes my arm. “But you’re getting a winter hockey team going?”

  I nod. No Tate until next summer, because he’s captaining a real NHL team, but Lachlan found us a few more people to fill out a beer league team.

  “I’ll have to bring Sasha to watch a few games.” The sly look on her face means she’s trying to play matchmaker.

  With Sasha? I laugh out loud. “Your roommate is gorgeous and smart and funny, but she’s not my type.”

  “What’s your type?”

  Glossy black hair, tits that bounce like crazy, hips I can still feel imprinted on my palms three months later. Creamy skin that marks like a dream. “I prefer my women a tad more compliant than Sasha.”

  Ellie makes an understanding murmur. “Yeah. She’s not that.”

  “Not at all. She’d make an excellent Domme.”

  She jerks her head toward me, her eyes widening. “You think? No. Really?”

  No, not really. I don’t know if Sasha’s kinky, but if she is, she’s probably not a pure top.

  But even the sport of trying to figure out which way someone bends no longer appeals to me. As soon as Ellie moves away, keeping her first dinner party moving like the natural hostess she’s proving to be—provided someone else does the cooking, I can hear her tease in my head—I let my thoughts slide back to Violet and that night in July.

  Violet.

  Maybe that’s not even her name. After all, I thought she was an escort I’d hired and that had turned out to be…not exactly true.

  After dinner, I wander off to the sunroom and stand at the windows, staring into the dark, alone with my thoughts. I don’t get much time with them before Gavin sidles up and hands me a beer. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What’s going on?”

  “Still dealing with the aftermath of the move. Not a lot of energy left for idle chit-chat.”

  Gavin gives me that steely-eyed stare of his. “That answer might wash with Ellie, but I’ve known you too long to buy such a bullshit excuse. It’s a woman, isn’t it?”

  “There is no woman.” Not anymore. Where the fuck is she?

  “You and those damned rigid boundaries of yours. You may think they’re protecting your heart, but they aren’t. They’re starving it.”

  “You’re deliriously in love, and I’m thrilled for you. Truly. But don’t go fucking preaching your happy ever after at me.” Because I can never have what he has with Ellie, no matter how much I want it.

  “Fair enough. I’m done pushing. I’m still not out of the woods with Ellie’s dad and I need you on my side. He wants to play poker.”

  That's clearly trap. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

  The next day I wrap up my clinic at the hospital an hour earlier than usual because I need to get downtown and meet with my new lawyers.

  Nobody told me how much fucking admin work was associated with moving provinces. Now I’m practicing medicine under a different College of Physicians and Surgeons, so from time to time I need to consult an attorney for questions related to my medical practice, plus I’m old-fashioned—I like to actually sit face-to-face with the people I task to manage my money and corporations.

  I left Hollywood at sixteen a relatively wealthy teenager, and over the last twenty years I’ve turned those savings into a significant set of diversified holdings.

  So yeah, I need to meet my new lawyers.

  Plural, because while there’s a partner who will take all the credit for the work, there will also be associates who do the real hands-on stuff, and those are the people I want to look in the eye. I want them to know that I’m not to be messed with.

  The offices of Katz & Novak are just off Spark Street, and I make a mental note to arrange time to go and flirt with Gavin’s assistant Beth the next time I’m down here. Like Ellie, she’s safely off-limits, and therefore the perfect woman for me.

  It’s hard to be an incorrigible rake and a hardcore sadist at the same time. I learned long ago that the two desires had to be satisfied in very different ways.

  Shameless flirting is for women like Beth. Beautiful, clever, and entirely uninterested in anything beyond a double entendre every now and again.

  Safe words and carefully negotiated hard limits are for women I hire. Equally beautiful, equally clever, and carefully vetted by the only high-price madam in the country I trust with my credit card details.

  And then came Violet.

  Over and over again she came for me. Even when tears streamed down her face, she took another orgasm for me. Let me fuck with her mind in the most beautiful way.

  And when it was over, and I cradled her in my arms, she stretched and purred like a satisfied kitten.

  Violet.

  I’m a week away from hiring a private investigator to find her, but “we hooked up at the Chateau Laurier bar in July and she paid cash for her drink” isn’t much to go on.

  Plus, the thought of involving anyone else in the hunt for my mystery woman puts a sour taste in my mouth.

  Violet is my secret, and I feel oddly protective of her.

  I try to shake off the darkness that descends when I think about her and jab the elevator button for the fourth floor. It’s a smooth ride up, and the doors open to a high-end boutique law firm that specializes in physician corporations with significant holdings. A one-stop doc shop, a colleague at the hospital called it.

  They also come highly recommended by the firm I used in Vancouver.

  I give my name to the receptionist, and less than a minute later, William Novak is introducing himself to me. He gives me the expected spiel about how he’ll oversee all my legal work, but to keep my billings down—blah blah blah—he’ll pull in an associate from time to time.

  Like I don’t know the drill.

  “I’ll go grab her now.” He flashes a too-white smile and gestures for the boardroom. “Donna will bring you a drink in there. Scotch? Coffee?”

  “Water is fine.” I adjust my tie, then unbutton my jacket, pushing it back as I shove my hands into the pockets of my dress pants. The boardroom is in the centre of the office suite, surrounded on all sides by hallways. An interesting set up. No privacy at any time, so anyone deposed in here would feel like they’re on display. In a fishbowl.

  I make a mental note of that. If I ever have need to be deposed for a case, I’ll have it done at the hospital or the courthouse.

  “Here’s our client,” William says from behind me.

  I turn around as he introduces his associate.

  “Violet Roberts, this is—”

  “Max Donovan,” she breathes. Her sapphire eyes are wide.

  “Have you two met?” the older lawyer asks, frowning at me.

  Yes, I think, but she’s faster.


  “No.” Her jaw sets into a hard line as her eyes narrow. “I haven’t had the pleasure.”

  Oh, but my kitten has had the pleasure.

  Even as she slams the files in her hand down on the boardroom table between us, I’m already thinking about how I might punish her for that lie.

  Thank you so much for reading Prime Minister! We hope you love Gavin and Ellie as much as we do.

  * * *

  If you want to keep in touch with us for Max’s book, you can find us at www.friskybeavers.com, and sign up for our exclusive VIP mailing list there.

  * * *

  You can also turn the page to find out more about our other books. Sadie writes kinky musicians, and Ainsley writes forbidden bodyguards.

  * * *

  ~ Ainsley & Sadie

  Also by Sadie Haller

  Dominant Cord

  One Gold Heart

  One Gold Knot

  One Gold Triquetra

  * * *

  Tainted Pearl

  Tainted Pearl

  Tainted Shadow (coming Summer 2016)

  To connect with Sadie:

  @SadieHallersPen

  SadieHallerAuthor

  www.sadiehaller.com

  Also by Ainsley Booth

  Forbidden Bodyguards

  Hate F*@k

  Booty Call

  Dirty Love (coming summer 2016)

  To connect with Ainsley:

  @ainsley_booth

  ainsleyboothwrites

  www.ainsleybooth.com

  Acknowledgements

  [Ainsley says… It needs to be pointed out that we wrote these independent of one another. That’s just how #samebrain our minds are.]

  * * *