Executive - The Complete Series Box Set (A Single Dad Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “Oh good, I felt awful saying those things,” I explained. “But I had no idea what else to do to give you time to wake up and to keep Dominic from killing us all.”

  “I heard what he said to you,” Brian said with a serious look on his face. “Are you okay?”

  “Who me? I’m fine!” I laughed uneasily. “I’m just fine…”

  “Ava, it’s okay not to be fine,” he said gently as he opened his arms and waited for me to find my way into them. I looked up at him as tears began to well up, and then sunk into his embrace.

  “I was so scared,” I whispered into his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my whole life.”

  “I know, me either,” he confided. “I was terrified of what he was going to do to you and the others, and that I wouldn’t be able to stop him.”

  I nodded and buried my face in his chest as he gently rubbed my back, and as he did, the gravity of the day sunk in, and I began to cry.

  “Shhh, shhh,” Brian soothed as he stroked my hair and held me close. “It’s all going to be okay. I’m not going to leave you.”

  “But what happens when my father lets you go?” I sobbed. “You won’t be able to stay here with me!”

  At that moment, Brian’s phone rang, and he let go with one arm to answer the call. He listened for a while and then said, “Yes, sir. No, sir. No, sir. Yes, sir. I will, sir. Thank you, sir,” and hung up.

  “Well, that just answered your question,” he smiled. “That was your father, and he’s decided that I should stay on as your personal bodyguard until the end of school year. The police commissioner called him and told him what happened, and he decided it was better to be safe than sorry. He’s also decided to move you out of the dorm into an apartment where I can keep a better eye on you. The movers will be here tomorrow to pack you up and move your things. I’m to oversee the move.”

  I stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. “You and my father have conspired against me!”

  “No, I swear I had no idea what he was going to do!” Brian said as he held up his hands in a defensive gesture.

  I considered him for a moment. On one hand, I resented the idea that my father was, again, going to dictate where I lived and what I did, but on the other hand, I was going to get to have Brian in my life on a permanent basis. I wasn’t sure if I should be mad at the two of them or grateful for my good fortune. As I looked at Brian, thought about all we’d been through in such a short time and how safe I felt with him, I opted for grateful.

  “Well, if the movers are coming tomorrow, then this is our last night here,” I smiled as I gazed into his beautiful blue eyes.

  “Indeed it is,” he replied as he smiled back at me. “What do you say we do something to commemorate it?”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Mr. Flynn,” I murmured as he leaned in.

  He softly brushed his lips across mine as he reached out to pull me to him. He stopped and we both laughed when we realized that I was still holding a piece of half-eaten pizza. I set it down and melted into his arms as we kissed.

  Brian wrapped his arms tightly around me and pulled me against his chest as I cupped his face with my hands and felt the prickly stubble that had sprung up on his cheeks. His lips tasted warm and salty, and I giggled a little when he pulled back and whispered, “Mmmm, you taste like pizza!”

  For a long time we sat on the couch kissing as our hands roamed over each other’s clothed bodies, but as our desire grew stronger, this wasn’t enough. Abruptly, Brian pulled away and stood up, and I couldn’t hide my disappointment when I realized he was stopping the action, so I looked away. Seconds later, I let out a small scream as Brian bent over and scooped me up in his arms.

  “You didn’t think I was going to leave you here, did you?” he smiled as I wrapped my arms around his neck and laid my head on his shoulder.

  “I wasn’t sure,” I whispered. “And I didn’t want to be disappointed.”

  “Ava, look at me,” he said seriously. I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. “I’m going to do everything in my power to never, ever disappoint you. Not ever.”

  In response, I nodded and planted a soft kiss on his lips. He lowered me onto the bed and then stood back as he slowly removed his T-shirt and undid his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. I sat up and started tugging on my shirt, but he pushed my hands away and said, “No, let me do it.” His hands were gentle as he pushed my shirt up my torso and then pulled it over my head, and I saw him wince as his eyes scanned the bruises that Dominic had left.

  “Do they hurt?” he asked as he ran his fingers over the marks that mottled my skin.

  “Not yet. That’ll come tomorrow,” I replied, knowing that the worst would be the next morning, when I would feel the full impact of the blows.

  He leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips across the worst of the bruises as he gently pulled my skirt down and dropped it on the floor. He quickly added my panties to the growing pile of discarded clothing as he lay down next to me.

  His hands roamed my naked body as we slowly kissed, and I could feel his hardness pressed against my thigh. My body responded to his touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and before long, I felt him spreading my thighs and slipping his fingers into my wetness. I gasped as he slowly slid them up and down, lightly stroking my clit, and then dragging them down to tease me a little before sliding back up again.

  In retaliation, I reached out and ran my hand across the tip of his cock, coating it in the pre-cum that covered it. Then I wrapped my hand around his girth and began stroking it slowly. Now it was his turn to gasp. I smiled as I whispered, “Two can play that game, Mr. SEAL.”

  “Can they, now?” Brian laughed as he pushed two fingers up into my tight, wet pussy and heard me inhale sharply. We lay there watching each other as our hands got lost in the playground of our bodies.

  Suddenly, Brian withdrew his fingers, wrapped his arms around me, and rolled over on his back, pulling me on top of him so that I was forced to let go of my hold on his cock. He quickly positioned me so that the tip of it was pressing up against my wet opening, and then kissed me deeply as he slowly slid inside me. I felt like I was melting as his cock filled my pussy, and I moaned softly into his lips as he pushed the entire length inside. He stopped and waited, letting me feel the fullness before he began slowly pulling back out and leaving just the tip of his swollen member inside me.

  I kissed him harder as I tried to make him push back up, but he held his ground and waited.

  “Oh Brian, please?” I begged. “Please! Please!”

  “Please what,” he said through gritted teeth as he kept me from slamming myself down onto him.

  “Please! I need it!” I cried as I wriggled in his grasp.

  “What do you need, Ava? Tell me,” he urged.

  “I need it! I need your cock! Please!” I begged more desperately. “God, take me! Now!”

  Hearing those words spurred him to action, and Brian slammed his hips up against mine as he buried his cock inside me. I cried out as I felt him enter me fast and hard, and then began pushing against him as we tried to find a rhythm that would match the desire we felt. He thrust up again and again and I met him more than halfway as I tried to drive him deeper and deeper inside of me. I wrapped my arms around him, and as I slammed down, I heard him groan. We’d found our rhythm, and frantically rode it until both of us were on the edge of an intense orgasm.

  Brian had somehow worked his hand between our two bodies, and was firmly stroking my clit in a way that made my pussy pulse around his cock. I’d never felt anything like it, and I briefly wondered if I would pass out when I came. The thought left my mind as quickly as it had arrived, and suddenly, I was hurtling over the edge of a cliff as I moaned his name. The orgasm shook my body, and I felt him join me as we both flew into the abyss together.

  Many minutes later I heard Brian whisper something in my ear, but my pulse was still poun
ding in my brain and I couldn’t hear him. I lifted my head and lightly kissed his lips before I gave him a questioning look.

  “I’m so sorry, Ava,” he whispered as he bent forward and pressed his forehead to my chest. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I reassured him. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “It is my fault,” he said. “I was supposed to protect you and keep you safe and I failed.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I objected. “There was no way for you to have known what Dominic was doing!”

  “I tried to keep tabs on him at all times,” Brian admitted. “All those texts were from a couple of the frat brothers I’d had following him and Cheese. I tried to keep him under surveillance, but we lost him.”

  “So that explains the obsessive texting all the time!” I laughed. “I thought it was a new girlfriend.”

  “A new girlfriend?” he said with a smile as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tightly against him. “Why would I want a new girlfriend when I’ve got all I ever wanted right here in my arms?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Click here to continue to my next book.

  Get Each of My Newly Released Books for 99 Cents By Clicking Here

  Click here to get my book Swipe for free

  POWER BOX SET

  The Complete Power Romance Series

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams

  POWER #1

  Chapter One

  I stood in the shadow of the great house before me, hearing the taxi whiz behind on its way back toward Pennsylvania. I’d never been in the White House before, but God, had I imagined it. The exterior white shell of it seemed to speak of so much—so much history. Those immaculate rooms, that power, the vibrancy. And, above all, that handsome president—the leader of the free world.

  I adjusted my blue suit beneath me, tugging at it, allowing my breasts to bounce a bit. I knew that they didn’t hurt my chances, but I didn’t like to think of it. I knew my smarts could propel me into the role if I played my cards right; if I flung myself through the interview like a pro—like I had countless other times throughout my career—I could land the position of my dreams.

  Head of the President’s Re-election Campaign.

  I thought about the way they’d discuss it on the news: Amanda Martin, the woman of the hour. Only 29 years old and already moving her way up the political ladder.

  Beneath my fine blue suit, I felt my stomach grumble at me with a sort of rage. I was nervous, certainly. After all, my past accomplishments didn’t stand up against this feat. I’d been president of my sorority back in school, just because I didn’t want my sorority (the one my mother had forced me to join, stating she wouldn’t pay for my college otherwise) to be just like any other sorority. If I was going to be a part of it, we were going to make a goddamned difference. And we did.

  And then, after that, in my home city of Philadelphia, I’d become one of the secretaries in the mayor’s office. Nothing big, no. But after a few years into it, with success around every corner and my name blasted in a few important people’s ears, I’d been invited to come to Washington to work on the initial campaign for the now-president. I’d been only 24 at the time, and I wasn’t ready for the flash, the grandeur of D.C. But I acclimated easily, after a few minor bumps and one silly affair with a congressman.

  Just one!

  And now, I found myself back in D.C. A congressman, George Carlman, had suggested I apply. I’d been an essential part of the previous campaign. I remembered the rallies, the fast-paced nature of it all. I remembered counting votes until my eyes bled. But when our president, Xavier Callaway, had made that speech on that January day, I knew it had all been worth it. My heart seemed to beat only for him. It wasn’t just that he was handsome—after all, he’d paid nearly no attention to me during the entire election process. It was that what I had done, all the work I’d propelled into the campaign, had been worth it. Goddamn it, it’d been worth it. And that, beyond anything else, was beautiful.

  Two Secret Service agents met me at the door and pushed it open, allowing me entrance into the immaculate foyer. I thanked them with a polite, if firm, voice. I wanted them to take me seriously, as I was interviewing to run their president’s re-election campaign. I didn’t envision myself as some flighty girl. No, I was so much more—intelligence and strength and vitality.

  “Just a minute, Miss,” the Secret Service agent stated, bringing his hands up to his shoulders, positioned in the air. “You know the drill.”

  I did.

  I held up my hands to mirror his,and allowed him to touch my body with his long, thick fingers. He roughed up around my hips, on my ass, making sure I didn’t have anything on my person. I winked at him as he did it, making him feel uncomfortable. He looked down, uncertain.

  “I’m just kidding, Dimitri,” I told him, nearly laughing. I’d known him for nearly four years at that point and I knew he felt awkward.

  “Amanda, so sorry about this,” he said. I knew that he had a crush on me; I’d known it since we’d met on the campaign trail.

  “Please. It doesn’t bug me at all. I kind of like it,” I laughed, raising an eyebrow.

  “You’re in for the interview, yeah?” he asked.

  I nodded to him, looking down for a moment. I realized that I was truly nervous; I hadn’t let myself feel it until that moment. “Have there been many interviews today?”

  Dimitri shrugged. “He’s seen a few, sure. But you’ll be great. I know you know your stuff.”

  I smiled at him, still uncertain. Everything else I’d ever done had worked out perfectly. I’d literally never failed—and the thought of failure terrified me. But casting my eyes far into the future made me so nervous, so uncertain. I couldn’t be sure about my stance in the Oval Office. Who was I kidding? I was only a 29-year-old woman in D.C., surrounded by countless, better-qualified people.

  Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I spun back around, allowing Dimitri to walk alongside me.

  “What have you been up to?” he asked.

  I flashed him a bright smile. “I’ve been working down the Hill, beneath Congressman Carlman. He actually encouraged me to apply for the position.”

  “You’ve made a name for yourself in D.C.,” Dimitri said.

  He led me up the steps that curled so perfectly into the ethers. I thought of Abraham Lincoln, of Kennedy—of all of them climbing these same steps. I shivered, knowing I was entering a sacred home.

  He led me down the wide hallway, and I gazed at the many paintings and at the textured blue wallpaper. I felt my heart beating so fast in my chest. I felt like I was entering a dream world—probably because it was a world I had dreamed of so much.

  Finally, we reached it: the Oval Office. I took a deep breath and turned toward Dimitri. His dark hair and eyes were so stark in the strange hallway, this Secret Service agent who’d actually joked with me throughout. Back then, Xavier Callaway had been a congressman with only a bodyguard named Dimitri. When Xavier had become the president, he’d brought his man with him.

  “It’s great that you work here now,” I said to him, still uncertain about entering this terrifying place.

  Dimitri nodded. “The president is a good man. And I know I’ll see you around,” he whispered, bringing his hand toward the door and spinning the knob. I was going in; my stomach dropped.

  I swallowed slowly and brought my heels forward. I held my chin high, knowing that I could rule a room—perhaps even that room. I knew that in all my past interviews, in all my past triumphs, I’d won over everyone I’d encountered. That was all I needed: ful
l control of the room.

  But how was I supposed to do that when I was meant to have full control over the goddamned President of the United States?

  Chapter Two

  Behind me, I heard Dimitri close the door. I knew he would remain on post outside the door. I wondered if he could hear anything—if he knew any of the intimate secrets of the presidency. Surely, being around President Callaway so often suited you with a world of gossip—gossip, I knew, that Dimitri would never release.

  Never in a million years.

  The light swept in from those familiar, three grand windows behind the desk. I oriented myself toward the sunshine, smiling with as much confidence as I could manage. “Hello, Mr. President,” I called to him.

  Xavier Callaway stood up from his desk, a pen still in his hand. He was alone, which was unexpected. So often, I’d seen him in the midst of swarms of government employees, of voters. But never by himself. Alone, he looked different, more striking somehow. I breathed an easy sigh, unsure of what to say next. I tried to rev my brain, to propel myself into the interview. I needed to be succinct and professional. I needed to allow him to understand that I knew what I was doing.

  I tapped forward and reached my hand across the desk, shaking hands firmly—like a man. Something about his grip made me jump in my skin, but I didn’t allow him to see it. “Thank you for seeing me today,” I stated, nodding.

  The president brought his hands out. “Well, I certainly want to hear your ideas about the re-election,” he said. His voice was so powerful, nearly echoing from the grand room.

  I tried to keep myself from peering around me, eyeing everything in the place—the desk before me, the history draped in every corner. I sat in the chair, bringing my portfolio up to my knees. The president sat across from me and folded his hands beneath his chin, gazing at me with dark, penetrating eyes. I felt something stirring in me.