by Ivy Jordan
“I kept a map in my pocket the first few days,” he laughed.
“So, they follow you everywhere?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at the two men in suits.
Adam didn’t bother to look; he just smiled, and nodded. “I assume I’ll get used to it, eventually,” he said softly.
A group of suits gathered outside the office, all clearing a path when Adam and I walked towards them. “Good morning, Mr. President,” each one chanted like clones before Adam smiled, and opened the door to let them inside.
The meeting was simple, just a quick itinerary for the upcoming week. There were several events in the immediate area and a few in other states that needed to be weighed by importance. Myself, Michael, and the other top advisors would create a schedule, and if there was to be travel, Adam immediately assigned me to be his personal liaison.
I could feel the looks in my direction, all questioning the real reason I was even there. I couldn’t blame them. I questioned why I was really there.
“Thank you, everyone. Let’s have a great day,” Adam said, clearing the room within seconds.
“Quinn,” he said as I started to follow the crowd of suits out the door.
I stopped, turned, and nodded as he held up his index finger to motion me to wait. Michael gave me a quick glance, letting his eyes fall to my opened button with disapproval.
“Yes, sir,” I said as Michael closed the door behind him as the last man out.
Adam motioned for the two servicemen by the door to exit, which they quickly obeyed.
“I don’t know how you expect me to focus on running the country while you’re wearing that yellow blouse,” he said with a smile.
His dark hair had speckles of gray that glistened when the sunlight brushed across them. I wasn’t sure what to say, or how to react. My pussy was already swelling against my panties, and my nipples were gnawing at the material on my bra as they fought to push through. “I’m sorry. Is this not appropriate?” I asked, flushing with embarrassment.
It was a designer blouse, and the light-gray jacket and shirt that it was paired with gave it a professional, but feminine style. Maybe it was too feminine. Oh God, did I dress to turn on the president? I knew better than to do that. I was a professional, and Adam or not, this was my job.
“No. It’s stunning,” he said, leaning back against his desk.
His back shifted against the hard wood of his desk as my eyes accidentally glanced toward his package. My cheeks burned as I quickly moved my eyes to the windows behind him. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“I don’t mean to be so forward. It’s ju—just, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he stammered.
My knees weakened, almost buckling beneath my small frame. I nervously pressed the material of my skirt flat against the palms of my hands as he stared into my eyes. I wanted to tell him I’d thought about him too, but I was frozen, speechless, delightfully stunned.
“I may be reading things wrong, but I thought we had a real connection out there on the campaign trail,” he said nervously.
My heart pounded, my breasts swelled against the thin yellow blouse. The president of the United States was flirting with me, nervously flirting with me.
“Is that why you wanted me here?” I asked, suddenly finding his advances offensive.
“No, of course not. I mean, I would love for something more, but you are the only one for this job,” he said convincingly.
“Something more?” I asked softly, loving the sound of those words.
He pushed away from the desk and moved toward me quickly. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into him. God, his scent was enough to make me weak, and his hot breath enough to drop me to my knees. “We couldn’t,” I whispered.
“Couldn’t what?” he leaned in closer, letting his lips barely graze against mine. “We couldn’t kiss?” he whispered, pressing his mouth to mine.
My eyes closed as his soft, sensual lips covered mine and his tongue glided to part them. He tasted so sweet, so delicious, that I found myself lost in a passionate embrace.
He pulled away slowly. “That’d be a shame,” he said softly.
“A crying shame,” I gasped, still dizzy from his aggression.
“What else couldn’t we do?” he asked, his hands moving to my ass and squeezing my cheeks.
My head fell back and a soft moan escaped my lips as his mouth consumed my neck. He pressed into me, letting me feel his excitement hard against my side as his tongue traced the length of my neck until it wended its way back to my lips.
I was lost, in passion, in pure heat, in a fantasy. What was I doing? What were we doing?
I pulled away, adjusting my skirt and struggling to calm my heavy breathing. “We can’t,” I scolded mournfully.
“We’re both adults,” he argued convincingly.
Damn, he was gorgeous.
“Yes, and one of us just happens to be the president of the United States,” I pointed out.
“John Tyler, Woodrow Wilson, and Grover Cleveland all married while in office. You know they had to have dated as the president,” Adam spouted off his history facts quickly and with confidence.
“You’ve done your homework,” I chuckled.
“I have,” he admitted.
“I think people will believe I was hired only for your personal pleasure,” I said sternly.
“Once they see what an amazing job you do, they’ll know that isn’t true,” he argued.
“Yes. But the people hate scandals, and you’re fresh. Your divorce still has some damage control yet,” I added.
Adam sighed, pushing his hand to his chin as he stared at me with his dreamy blue eyes. “I can handle the divorce problems,” he said.
“Your ex-wife made some horrible claims about your infidelity,” I reminded him.
“All of which were untrue, and unproven,” he pointed out.
I’d worked closely with him during his campaign to clear his name, and I truly believed he was honest. His wife had divorced him, leaving him for another man, only to be angered when he ran for office. She’d always pushed him to run, but he wanted to start a family instead, and she refused. I knew the thought of him in office, possibly with a new first lady, made her sick, and all she wanted to do was ruin his chances.
“She made up names; we proved that, you proved that,” he insisted.
“I know that, and you know that. But the people never completely forget the claims, and something like this could make them bring it back up,” I argued.
I was right. He knew I was right.
He moved toward me again, this time slowly and seductively. I knew what he was going to do, and even though I thought it was wrong, I didn’t stop him.
The taste of his tongue tangled around mine, the sensation of his hands caressing my curves was deliciously wicked, even more so knowing it was wrong.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling away.
His eyes were filled with pain and hunger. “I just need to prove myself,” I said quickly. “You’re right. You’re always right. That’s why you’re here,” he assured me with a smile.
My eyes glanced toward his package, noticing the bulge between his legs, and my gaze lingered to trace the outline of his cock beneath the thin trousers he wore. I’d remember the shape, the girth, and later that night I’d find a toy that matched to ease my sexual angst.
“Did you get settled in here in Washington?” he asked, painfully trying to change the topic of ‘us’ to anything else.
“Not entirely. I’m staying with Rowena,” I replied.
His face softened, “How is she?”
“She’s great. Cancer-free, and actually on a mini vacation right now at a spa in Virginia Beach,” I boasted.
“So, you’re all alone tonight?” he asked softly.
My pussy pressed hard against my panties as the silk material clung to my swollen lips. I knew what he was after, and I wasn’t in any condition to fight him off. “Yes. All
week,” I stated, trying not to show my eagerness.
“Does she still live in Foggy Bottom?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I visited her not too long ago,” he said with a quick smile.
A knock on the door ended our conversation. When it opened at Adam’s request, it was Michael, staring at me with a wild glare. “Vice President Phillips is waiting, Mr. President,” he said, not taking his eyes from mine.
“I’ll be right there,” Adam said, immediately putting his game face back on.
I gripped my bag and moved toward the door, startled to see Michael just outside, leaning against the wall.
“Your lipstick is smeared,” he said softly.
I quickly pulled a compact mirror from my purse and used it to correct the obvious issue.
“You need to be careful. If anyone knows how ugly these things can get in the media, it should be you,” he warned.
“It’s not what you think,” I defended, knowing it was useless.
“I think you need to fix your lipstick, adjust your skirt, and button your blouse,” he said with a strangely friendly smirk.
“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath as I did what Michael suggested. I knew how this looked: exactly like what it was.
“If it gets out that you and the president are having… whatever it is you’re having, his time here will be spent focusing on damage control of his image rather than our country,” he warned.
“We aren’t having anything,” I snapped, buttoning my top button of my blouse and feeling the suffocation take hold.
Were we?
Chapter Four
“How was your day?” Rowena asked.
“Aren’t you supposed to be relaxing?” I laughed.
I fell onto her fluffy white couch with my phone held tightly to my ear. It felt good to hear her voice, but I was grateful she wasn’t there to eye me up. One look and she’d know what I’d done.
“I am relaxing. I’m in a mud bath right now, actually,” she said calmly.
“My day was as expected. I got lost, found out there’s no training, and I’m already a week behind on the workload they gave me,” I groaned.
“Wow. So, they just threw you to the wolves, eh? Either they trust you or they’re testing you,” she laughed.
I knew the correct response, but I didn’t say anything. “I’ll let you get back to your soak. I have to go through a mountain of papers to create an event schedule for Adam,” I explained.
“Adam? Do you call him that in public?” she asked.
“No. Of course not. I call him hot pants,” I giggled and hung up the phone.
There was no activity on my phone as I looked at the screen. Adam had said he knew where Rowena lived, but there was no way he’d show up here. Was there?
I took a long, hot shower, hoping to wash away my sexual tension. But the streams of water flicking against my nipples and rolling between my legs just made me more frustrated.
My body craved Adam’s touch, not my own. My fingers lingered between my pussy lips, slowly rolling back and forth to part them. My juices were slippery, sliding my fingers inside my tight hole without effort.
I moaned, trying to imagine it was Adam who was playfully teasing my pussy. My eyes closed, and I remembered the outline of his cock, thick and hard. I pushed my fingers deep inside of me, two, and then three, but couldn’t satisfy the ache deep in my body.
My juices clung to my fingers as I pulled them from inside of me, letting them push against my swollen clit. The friction made my legs weaken and my lips part. The water rolled down my body, teasing my skin, flicking at my nipples like tiny hard tongues, and sliding down my back like a soft hand.
Waves of pleasure rolled through my body, pushing between my legs like a wild storm. My legs tightened together against my hand, my ass rested against the tile of the shower wall, and my orgasm released into a delicious, thunderous throb against my fingers.
The ache was still there, tamed, but not gone. I slipped into a pair of red, plaid sleep pants and a white tank top, and wrapped the towel around my head like a turban. The mountain of paperwork glared at me on Rowena’s dining room table. Might as well get some work done.
I selected an Air Show, a Special Olympics ceremony, and a triathlon for MS as my solid choices for Adam’s schedule, and was pondering between the other ‘maybes’ I’d stacked and sorted when my phone buzzed.
It was after midnight when I picked it up to see a text from Adam.
Adam: Open your door
I didn’t bother replying; instead, I rushed to the door, and peeked out the peep hole.
The two Secret Servicemen that followed Adam were standing on Rowena’s front stoop. I opened the door and they parted, revealing Adam in jeans, a t-shirt, and a baseball cap. “What are you doing here?” I gasped, quickly reaching for his arm and pulling him inside.
“I had to see you,” he explained.
Instantly, my body reacted with swelling, pulsations, and tingles in spots I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt come alive before. “What if someone has seen you?” I growled.
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “You’re worth it. To see you, like this, it’s worth it,” he said, his eyes moving upward and above my head.
Oh God! I still had a towel on my freakin’ head. I ripped it off, shaking my long, sandy-blonde hair out to fluff it up.
His hands were quickly on my hips, his mouth on mine, and his tongue warm and wild against mine. My craving returned in full force with a new, stronger hunger than before. My body rolled into his, pressing my breasts against his hard chest, and my pelvis into his thigh. He drove me wild, made me lose control. This couldn’t happen.
“No,” I gasped, pulling from our passionate embrace.
“You don’t want this?” he asked.
I couldn’t deny my attraction. “I do want it,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
Adam pulled me back into him, letting his mouth slide down my neck to the top of my breasts.
My nipples pushed hard against the material of the tank top, begging for attention. Adam quickly obliged my body’s pleading and covered my left breast with his mouth, sucking in my flesh through the thin material.
His tongue flicked at my nipple, and then his teeth clamped against it, tugging gently until I moaned.
“Adam. We can’t do this,” I insisted, pulling back away.
“I’m the president. I can do whatever I want. You can do whatever you want,” he said.
“I wish it were that easy,” I admitted, feeling my juices slide from my pussy and down my inner thigh.
His cock pushed hard against the denim, begging to be released and pleasured. My mouth watered at the thought of taking him into my mouth, tasting him, pleasing him. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked softly.
“No. But I think you have to,” I said remorsefully.
“This can be great. It will be great,” he said with a smile.
“One of us will end up the bad guy, and if it’s me, it’d ruin my career,” I argued.
“I think the American people would love to see me with you,” he insisted.
“Maybe so, but they may not,” I said.
“I’m not giving up, Quinn,” he said with a grin.
He pulled me in one last time, kissing me softly on the lips, and then the neck. “Damn, you’re sexy,” he growled, biting me gently on the top of my breast.
He stepped back, took a long look at me, lingering on my eyes for what felt like an eternity. “No. I won’t give up,” he assured me, and then turned to let himself out Rowena’s front door.
I missed him already.
Chapter Five
The mug in my hand was warm and soothing, and the hot java inside it was the jolt I needed to start my day. I hadn’t slept, not after Adam had left. My mind was frazzled, and my body tortured with sexual tension.
My phone beeped, alerting me that my driver had arrived. I stuffed the papers I’d been working on into my brie
fcase, slipped on my black jacket over my deep-blue blouse, and rushed out the front door.
“Good morning, Ms. Hamilton,” the driver greeted me as he held open the back door.
“Good morning, Lou,” I smiled.
He was my regular driver since I’d arrived, a kind man with a round belly, a pudgy nose, and warm smile. I slipped into the backseat, immediately pulling out my mirror and checking my face and hair as he drove me to the White House, to Adam.
“Do you have the schedule?” Michael asked with urgency as I walked into the overwhelming foyer.
“Yes. I finished it up last night,” I replied, pulling the final copy from my bag.
He gripped the paper, glanced quickly at the itinerary I’d created, and pursed his lips together. “A triathlon?” he asked with disapproval in his tone.
“Yes. Adam used to race all the time,” I insisted.
“Used to,” he said, his eyebrows lifting.
“I know he is still in amazing shape. It is for charity, and the American people need to see his strength so they can truly embrace the younger president,” I pushed.
He nodded, seemingly agreeing with my decision, and motioned for me to follow as he headed down the long hall.
“The president needs to approve this right away,” he said, walking the familiar path towards the oval office.
I’d taken Adam’s advice and created a cheat sheet, complete with maps for the White House, and directions to get to all the important areas for which I had access.
“Mr. President?” Michael knocked and announced his arrival as he opened the Oval Office door.
“Yes. Come in,” Adam said, motioning for us to enter.
The two Secret Service men that stood outside the office door were the same ones that escorted Adam to Rowena’s house the night before.
My cheeks blushed with heat as my eyes struggled to avoid contact. Neither of the men even looked my way, trained to stay out of any personal affairs, I presumed.
“The final schedule is ready for your approval,” Michael said, neglecting to give me any credit for its creation.
It was awkward facing Adam, but he continued with complete professionalism. . “Let me take a look,” he said, taking the paper from Michael and offering me a quick glance.
