by Magan Vernon
“Well, you kind of do like to showboat,” I teased.
“I’m serious.” His eyes were dark and steely. “I don’t want you to feel like this is something that I expect. I’ve been born with a silver spoon, but you’re the girl who doesn’t care about this.”
I squeezed his hands to let him know that I was still listening.
“One of the things that I love about you is that you don’t care about my family or my money. Heck, I think those are actually the things you don’t like about me.”
“It’s grown on me, I’ll admit.”
He turned so that he was at my side and continued down the veranda and onto the grass, dropping one of my hands, but still holding tightly on to the other. “You know what I mean. That’s part of the reason I chased you so hard. You weren’t interested at all. Most girls around campus throw themselves at me as soon as they hear who my dad is. Not because of me or my politics, but they thought they might get a ride in my car or a trip to the family lake house in Michigan.”
I put my hand to my chest and dropped my bottom jaw in mock shock. “You mean you aren’t going to take me to the famous Chapman lake house?”
I didn’t think it was that famous. It had its own Wikipedia page but all it said was “In the style of the Hampton’s, a row of politician’s homes line a secluded beach that includes the Chapman’s, and the senators and congressmen from most of the Midwestern states.” If it was half as impressive as the governor’s friend’s place we had our first date at, I wasn’t sure I’d have the correct swim attire to go anywhere near it.
Trey furrowed his brow, looking straight ahead. “I’m being serious.”
I squeezed his hand. “I know, I’m sorry.”
He led me through the grass. The lawn reminded me of what I thought a royal palace would look like with lush flowers, perfectly trimmed hedges, and even a koi pond. The whole thing was beyond amazing. All my parents had in their backyard was my old wooden swing set and a deck with a grill that was practically rusted through.
Trey stopped and turned toward me. “My dad asked me what I saw in you. What it was that made me choose you, and of course, punch out one of my fraternity brothers for you.”
I bit down on my bottom lip. Did the governor not like me? Was this about to be a huge blow to my ego? “And what did you tell him?”
He took a step closer, pressing his forehead to mine and wrapping his arms around my waist. I inhaled Trey’s wonderful fragrance; freshly laundered shirts and expensive cologne. “I told him that the moment I met you, I knew there was no one else I’d rather be with. That you’re the girl who challenges me more than anyone and makes me want to be a better person.”
“You actually said that to your dad?” I had to keep my jaw from dropping to the ground.
He brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face. His touch made my lip tremble. It was as if his fingers had a direct line to my libido, and the more he touched me the more I didn’t want him to stop. “I’d never been so angry that I would actually punch a guy, until last night. It showed me that I could actually have pure, unadulterated passion in my life and not just believe in something because it’s one of the principles I’ve been raised on.”
“I love it when you give me your pseudo-political speeches, because they are more real than any other bullshit you would otherwise spiel,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling his body flush with mine.
“I love you, Monica Remy. You’re the only girl I’ve ever fallen so hard for. I never thought I’d love a bleeding-heart liberal with facial piercings, but you’re truly the only exception.”
With that I did the only thing there was left to do and pulled him into a kiss. It felt like forever since I had and his lips were warm against mine, his tongue gliding inside and instantly making my body aware of his. I raked my fingers through his hair, tugging it lightly. His kisses became more passionate, more eager, and full of desire. They were short and then fast, each move of his tongue made my body tremble. He reached his hands lower down my back until he cradled my butt in them.
I felt a low moan gather in my throat and travel out of my lips into his mouth as his hands caressed me, almost better than any massage I’d ever had.
He broke the kiss slightly and his lips trailed down to my neck, nibbling at the delicate skin that met my shoulders. I gasped, his fingers working their way up and down my back. His bulge was now prominently pressed right against me. My whole body responded, and I shivered underneath his touch, rocking my hips against his. I wanted to rip his dress clothes off right there in the backyard.
A loud, throat-clearing sound came from behind Trey. I jumped back, letting go of him and smoothing out my hair. Trey quickly adjusted the front of his pants and turned toward the noise. A short, Latin man in a pair of overalls with a straw hat, holding a garden hoe stared at us.
“Señor, Chapman, sorry to interrupt. I just need to get to the begonias,” he said with a heavy accent.
Trey looped his arm around my waist, ushering me away from the flowers behind us, keeping his head down. “Oh sure, go right ahead, Manuelo.”
“Gracias, Señor. Have a beautiful day!”
I covered my mouth to try to stifle my giggles as we quickly walked back to the house.
“It’s not funny,” Trey said with his head down and his cheeks slightly flushed.
“Oh my God!” I stopped and tilted my head. “Are you embarrassed? I thought I’d never see the day the great Trey Chapman got embarrassed.”
“It’s not funny,” he muttered, stepping onto the veranda.
“It kind of is. It’s not every day one gets caught making out by the gardener.”
Trey opened the door and ushered me into the living room. Before he closed the door behind us he squeezed my butt, and I let out a loud squeal.
“Trey Chapman!” I spun toward him and he picked me up with a devious grin on his face. “This is no laughing matter, Miss Remy.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he hungrily pressed his lips to mine, like he was savoring every bit of me. He took a few steps forward and then we tumbled onto the couch. I kept my legs wrapped around him and pushed my hips against him. One of his hands ran through my hair, and he slowly slid the other one up the length of my leg, making every bit of my skin prick with goose bumps.
I didn’t know when his parents would be home, but every part of me ached for him. I took his hand on my leg and moved it down under my skirt until his fingers reached my panty line. He just let his hand sit there, his fingers gently rubbing against the silk fabric of my underwear. This wasn’t like at the Alpha Mu house. This was something I wanted after all this time. I couldn’t take the waiting, and I moved his hand underneath my panties. He kept his hand there, brushing it against my bare skin before he slid one finger inside me, curving it slightly. He left it there for a moment and then, delicately slowly, he twirled it over and over, and my body quivered underneath him. I arched my back and then he went deeper, hitting every spot just right.
I moaned softly, unable to contain myself. Making out and over the clothes fondling was one thing, but actually having his digits inside me was a whole new, mind-blowing game.
“Oh Monica,” he breathed into my hair.
I reached down and undid his belt with urgency. With every twirl of his fingers I wanted him even more.
“Señor Chapman? OH I SO SORRY!”
Trey pulled his fingers out of me and rolled off the couch. I snapped up, pulling my skirt down and hoping no one got a show.
A short, stout Latina woman in a white apron, carrying a mop stood there with her hand over her mouth.
Trey quickly buckled his belt and cleared his throat. “Hello Nadia, sorry about that. Me and Monica were just...enjoying each other’s company before my parents came home.”
Nadia moved her hand from her mouth and shuffled into the living room. “I not telling you what to do, Señor, but I would suggest that you may do a better job of enjoying each
other’s company behind closed doors.”
Chapter 20
After being caught, twice, it put an end to our make out sessions; no matter how bad I wanted him. I settled for three games of chess instead of lying on my back. Every time I turned my head it seemed as if there was some sort of servant watching us. It definitely killed the mood.
Mindy came home after Trey won for the third time. I heard her heels on the wood floor of the entryway before I saw her.
“Trey, I don’t believe I’ve seen you play chess since high school,” she said, her voice overly cheery.
Trey stared down at the crystal set. “I thought this would be better used than just a decoration in the parlor.” He glanced up, shooting a wink in my direction. “And it’s nice to see that I can actually beat Monica at something.”
“Well, don’t beat her too bad; we wouldn’t want her running off before dinner. I instructed Nadia to prepare duck a l’orange. Your favorite.”
Mindy stopped right next to the chess set. “Monica, are you a fan of duck?”
“Um, I honestly can’t say that I’ve ever had it, so I don’t have an opinion.”
Mindy smiled. “That’s such a political answer.”
My eyes connected with Trey’s. “I learned from the best.”
Mindy placed her hand on Trey’s shoulder and he broke our contact, looking up at her. “He does have a great way with words. I think he will definitely follow in his father’s footsteps.” She patted his shoulder and then retreated down the hall.
I waited until I couldn’t hear the clicking of her heels anymore before I spoke. “Do you want to be a politician like your dad?”
He thumbed the chess piece in his hand and then set it back down before his eyes were locked on mine again. In the fading light that streamed in from the large, French windows they looked even brighter. “The canned answer would be that every boy aspires to follow in his father’s footsteps.” He paused, moving the chess piece across the board. “But the official Trey Chapman answer is that I want to make my father proud and keep my girlfriend happy.” He stood up, putting his hands in his pockets. “Checkmate.”
Before I could respond, Nadia came shuffling down the hall with her purse slung over her shoulder. “Goodnight Señor Trey, Señorita Monica. I hope you got to enjoy each other’s company.” She nodded in our direction before shutting the front door behind her.
I stood up, covering my mouth to stifle the giggles that were threatening to escape. “It looks like I made quite the impression on her.”
Trey reached his hand out to me and I took it, walking with him down the hall to the dining room. “I think you make an impression on everyone you meet, Miss Remy.”
“As do you, Mr. Chapman.” I had to bite my lip to keep a straight face once we made our way into the dining room.
The plethora of food was even more plentiful for dinner than it had been at lunch. A giant silver platter sat between two large, lighted candles. On the platter was a duck that had to be some sort of a mutant because it was bigger than a house cat. On either side of it were trays of more food, but three plates were already sitting at each of our place settings, piled with a large hunk of duck, caprese salad, mashed cauliflower, and tiny phyllo shells filled with something that could have been seafood. It was decadence to the extreme.
“There are only three plates,” I said, standing behind the chair I sat in earlier that day.
Mindy walked in from the kitchen behind us and took the seat across from Trey. “Yes, Kirk said he was very sorry, but his meeting is running late and will not be joining us for dinner.”
“Oh.” It was all I could muster as I pulled my chair out and took my seat next to Trey. As soon as I sat down, he held his hand out me.
We didn’t hold hands at lunch and especially not on top of the table, which had to be some sort of rich person faux paus. I stared at his hand until he finally spoke. “It’s time for grace.”
I looked over and saw he was already holding Mindy’s hand across the table, and she was reaching her other one out to me. Great, another thing I didn’t pick up on. I quickly grabbed their hands, and they bowed their heads, so I followed suit.
“Trey, will you do the honors?” Mindy’s tinny voice carried over the table.
Trey cleared his throat. “God our Father, we thank you for bringing us together for this bountiful feast and for bringing Monica into our lives. We ask that you bless this food that we are about to eat as you have continued to bless our family. Amen.”
Trey and Mindy let go of my hands, and I put them on my lap. I couldn’t believe I made an idiot of myself, again, in front of his mom at the dinner table. Hopefully, the Chapman’s wouldn’t hold my dinner etiquette against me, or the other laundry list of things that had been piling up.
***
After the extravagant dinner, another short, Latina woman came in and cleared our plates. This time I didn’t protest and let Trey lead me into the living room. Just as I sat on one of the plush couches, the governor sauntered into the room and took a seat at the other end of the couch.
Trey sat next to me and put his arm around my waist. I felt awkward showing any kind of affection in front of his dad, but I hoped it was his way of showing the governor that I was worth something.
“Hey Dad, how was the meeting?”
The governor nodded and Mindy practically flowed into the room, taking the seat next to the governor. “The city comptroller never sleeps. Not even on a Saturday. I’m sorry about that, son.”
“It’s fine.” Trey lifted his hand ever so slightly.
The governor looked right at me. His stare used to scare the bejeezus out of me whenever I saw him on TV, but up close I realized how many of Trey’s features he got from his dad, especially his smile. “I’m mostly apologizing to you, Monica, I’m sorry I didn’t get to spend more time getting to know you. My son seems to think very highly of you, and I would have loved to get to know you better.”
Trey squeezed my side. “There should be plenty of time for that. She isn’t going anywhere for awhile.”
My breath caught in my throat. I knew Trey loved me, but to express that he wanted me around for a long time, in front of his family, set our relationship on a whole new level.
The governor nodded, patting Mindy’s knee. “Good to hear, son, and we’re happy to have you anytime, Monica.” Then he winked. A genuine wink! I didn’t know what he meant, and it was so fast it could have been something in his eye. He turned away and grabbed a remote, turning the TV on to the nightly world news.
I didn’t usually mind watching the nightly news, but sitting with a family of conservatives and watching was completely different.
The blonde news anchor’s voice rang over a shotty video that looked like it was taken from a camera phone; it was of a large brick building, some sand, and lots of gun fire. Another shooting at another embassy.
“And what do you suppose the president’s response will be to this devastating tragedy?” The governor held his hand out to the screen. “More gun control laws on our end for something that was caused by terrorists?”
I clamped my mouth shut, not willing myself to respond. Usually everything that came out of the governor’s mouth sounded like it was written for him by a guy in one of the back rooms with a typewriter. To hear him actually say what he was thinking was refreshing and maddening at the same time. Mainly maddening because I didn’t agree with his view points at all.
The next story was about healthier school lunches, another program the governor thought was on the president’s liberal agenda, and used money that could have been put toward job creation instead. I was about ready to excuse myself when another video played on the screen. One I was all too familiar with.
Another reporter’s voice called over a very grainy video, but there I was, clear as day with a guy standing at my back before Trey punched him in the jaw. “Trey Chapman, son of Illinois governor, Kirk Chapman, recently came into some hot water after putting a fel
low student in the hospital when he caught him dancing with his girlfriend at a private fraternity function.”
“This is bullshit,” I muttered.
Trey squeezed my side and bent his head down to my ear, whispering, “Just keep your cool. The news likes to over-exaggerate things.”
A picture of the governor popped up on the screen with scrolling words next to him that the reporter read off. “It is with my sincerest apologies that my youngest son had a lapse in judgment. He has since apologized to his friend, and his fraternity will be handling this matter as my son would like to keep his personal matters private.”
Then, something I didn’t expect happen did. My high school senior photo replaced the governor’s picture and the reporter kept talking. “The relationship the governor is talking about is Trey Chapman’s new girlfriend, Monica Remy.”
The pictures shuffled on the screen. They were random shots that they must have somehow gathered from my high school yearbook, mostly pictures of me in class or at pep assemblies. “Her classmates at Central College have said that she is outspoken and a perfect match for the governor’s son.” The last picture faded and the governor clicked off the TV. He turned to me, his eyes dark and his brow furrowed.
“I’m very sorry about that, Monica, I didn’t know they would bring up that much about you.”
I sucked in a deep breath and then released it slowly. “I guess, it’s fine. I mean, it’s weird they had so many pictures of me, but I guess it could have been worse.” They could have really dug into my past. The news could have spun that in a way so that I came out looking like the bad guy. The liberal girlfriend who had to go to the clinic after a night of partying.
My phone started buzzing the minute I stopped talking. I slid it out of my pocket and there was a text from Sam.
Holy shit, dude, you are like famous.
And then another text from Melanie.
