“Fuck... Laila,” I hissed, trying to compose myself.
This woman was my superpower and weakness at the same time. I felt I could do and be open after all our late-night conversations about our goals and dreams, and her career and family life. Funnily enough, we didn’t really talk about politics, other than the events I had to attend. For the most part, she listened to me just talk about how I wanted to change things for the better and fight for a better outcome for all families. I came from a privileged background, and my parents taught me to treat everyone the same as I’d want to be treated. Since meeting Laila, things had started looking up 10 times faster, and I didn’t know if I ever wanted to come down from my high of loving her.
Our time together started as just a friendship and sex, but over time, I could admit that my feelings had grown. I’d learned that Laila was just as controlling as me and getting her to open up was a job within itself.
“Damn, Laila,” I muttered. My head fell back.
Her palm ran up my chest as her mouth pushed forward and down to the base of my dick. “Mmm...” she moaned, and the vibration of her tongue and hands did something to me.
I couldn’t believe I was really at a point in my life when I felt love and wanted to be loved by only one woman. “Baby...:” I gripped the back of her head.
She slapped it away and pulled back. “What did you call me?”
My chest heaved up and down. “Laila, don’t start.” I stepped out of my pants and grabbed the condom out of my wallet, then slid it on. I turned her around to get on the edge of the bed with her legs open and back arched.
“Sebastian... wait... ahhhh!”
“Shit!” I pushed forward into her sex, biting my bottom lip to avoid moaning. I moved a hand up her back, then down to her thighs. I trailed kisses as we moved in sync.
“Sebastian... please...”
I tweaked her nipples as her head fell back in anguish. I captured a smooth rhythm between us as she grabbed hold of the sheets. Her sweet voice was calming to me as she called out my name and begged me not to stop.
“You belong to me, Laila. Don’t you forget that.” I pulled out and slammed back into her center.
“Yes! Ahhhh... oh, my God!”
Laila tried to squirm away from the pleasure, and that only pushed me further. I circled my hips, lifting my leg onto the bed, while I grasped the top of her shoulders. “Shit... Laila... goddamn, you feel so good, baby.” I twisted and plucked her nipples as her warm nectar released.
“I’m... coming,” she whimpered, trembling in my arms.
“I'm right behind you.” I quickened my strokes as her body started to convulse and shake.
“Ugh... Sebastian!” she shouted as her orgasm covered the sheets.
I never got tired of seeing the remnants of her juices dripping on the sheets. It had become my favorite thing when we were together like this. “Fuck!” I yelled, released into the condom, and gently eased out of her. I fell beside her on the bed, trying to catch my breath. My eyelids were getting low, but I knew she would more than likely slip out if I didn’t keep her close by. I jumped up and went to the bathroom to remove the condom, wash my hand and rejoin her on the bed.I wrapped arm around her waist and brought her against my chest, then moved the covers over us.
She kissed the top of my chest, and my lips. “Sebastian,” she mumbled.
“Shush... go to sleep,” I said, running a hand up and down her arm as we drifted off to sleep.
TWO HOURS LATER, I smelled the aroma of food. I rubbed a hand across my rumbling stomach. I turned on my side and felt that the bed was empty. I jumped up. I grabbed my pants and walked into the bathroom, which was empty, too. I headed toward the front of the loft and saw Laila, wearing my white shirt, sitting on the couch and eating a sandwich and fries. “You're still here?” I asked, strolling toward the couch. I sat next to her and ran a hand across her thigh.
“It was late,” she responded.
I looked over at the clock on the table that read 12 AM. “I don’t want this to end.”
She sighed and placed her plate on the table, then turned toward me. “Sebastian, we have an agreement.” Her eyes narrowed in annoyance, and she tried to get up and leave.
I reached over and grabbed her, pulling her close to my chest. “Can you honestly say you don’t feel anything?” I slid a hand under her shirt, eased it across her stomach, toward her breast, and squeezed.
“You trying to tease me?” Laila whispered. Her eyes were closed, and she was holding her hand against my chest.
“I’m trying to make you my girlfriend,” I announced.
Her eyes popped open in shock. “I need to go,” Laila told me.
I tightened my hold around her waist. “No, we’re going to talk about this.”
She chuckled at my statement. “You want me as your girlfriend? A former professional escort?” Laila asked.
“I want the woman who I've spent the past few year getting to know. The highly intelligent Spellman grad and brilliant therapist, Laila Daniels.”
“So, the headlines will be ‘Former Escort, Now Girlfriend of the President’?” Laila joked.
“Why did you become an escort?” I questioned, wanting to keep her in my presence for a bit longer.
“Penelope found me and offered me a job to make extra money while I was going to school. No, I didn’t grow up in an abusive home; I just needed to make money to help my family,” Laila explained.
“Why not work a regular job?”
“Do you think I sleep with every guy I go out with?” She arched an eyebrow curiously.
“I wouldn’t care if you did; that doesn’t matter to me.” Her energy was on a different level than what I was used to. It was not just about the physical with us; I’d also enjoyed our phone conversations and just having dinner together, away from the world. I enjoyed pretending to be a normal couple.
“I can count on my hand how many I slept with—and that was by choice,” she remarked.
“We’re both grown, and I don’t care about what anyone else says.”
“I put myself through school with my job and helped my family,” she said.
“I understand.”
“Do you understand the amount of scrutiny that we would be under if we went public?”
There was a knock on the door. She stood and walked to the back of the loft. I jumped up and went to the door.
“Sir, Claudette is on the line,” Tony explained, holding up his phone. “She’s saying that she would like to meet tomorrow morning.”
I nodded, taking the phone out of his hand. “Yeah?”
“Mr. President, you have a meeting in the morning with Congressman Carlton,” Claudette stated.
I watched as Laila came from the back with her coat and heels on. I put my arm around her waist to stop her from leaving. “Push the meeting to 10.”
“Sebastian,” Claudette groaned in frustration.
“Claudette, stop worrying,” I said, ended the call, and tossed the phone on the couch.
Laila cocked her head to the side.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Home,” Laila answered.
“You never answered my question.”
“Which is...?” Laila inquired.
“Do you want to be with me?” The room was silent as her body tensed, and our eyes connected.
My background in relationships wasn’t good; that was because I’d never experienced a full-blown relationship with a woman besides a few dates with Delilah Reynolds. We had an understanding that I’d bring her with me to events to further her career in advertising, and we’d both only wanted sex with no strings attached. Somehow, over time, she’d wanted more, and I had to end things because my bid for the presidency had ramped up, and I didn’t feel the same way about her. I never wanted anyone to depend on me when I knew my career was my life, and the path of public office that I’d chosen would have been hard for someone to grasp and endure the long nights, media at
tention, and their family being put in the spotlight unjustly. Laila had changed every doubt and objection in my mind and heart, and I wanted to try to see where we could go together.
“What happened to the contract?” Laila asked.
“Fuck the contract!” I pressed a kiss on her lips.
She laughed at my outburst, lifting her arms around my neck. “I need to think about this,” Laila said.
“You have one day, and I need an answer by tomorrow.”
“See? You're already being pushy.” Laila laughed and shook her head.
“I’m the president; I can do what I want.” I slid my tongue inside her mouth and squeezed her ample ass. Laila moaned and bent her head back as I gripped her neck gently. “Let's go back to bed,” I said.
“Okay.” She exhaled slowly, taking control of the kiss.
I wanted to take my time with her since I’d pushed my meeting back tomorrow. Carlton was only trying to push my buttons about the bill that my team had brought up to the House and Senate. I needed to get Claudette to meet with Laila, so she would be prepared for what was to come if things got out publicly.
I shut the bedroom door and laid her down on the bed. I removed her coat and kicked off her shoes. I lifted her left leg and kissed the back of her foot, then massaged her sole.
“You trust me?” I continued to massage up and down her leg toward her hip.
“No.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes.
I smirked, released her leg, and hovered over her body, staring into her eyes. I brushed her hair out of her face. Laila brushed a hand across my face, and I kissed the inside of her palm. “The contract is null and void.” I grabbed another condom out of my wallet, unbuckled my pants, and sheathed my dick. Every time we were together, I slept better at night, more comfortable after a stressful day. So, I planned on worshipping every inch of her body tonight.
THE NEXT MORNING, I had my men take Laila home, while I was driven back to the White House to deal with upcoming meetings. Today, we had a meeting with Carlton to get his support for an infrastructure bill that my team was working on. The problem was that we’d had our ups and downs. The motorcade pulled in front of the White House a few minutes later, and I stepped out. Claudette and Charles were waiting for me at the entrance.
“Mr. President, we have Carlton and his assistant waiting for you,” Charles said and passed me the latest revisions on the bill.
“Good, have a dinner set up for four, please, at the residence,” I stated, walking down the hall toward the Oval Office.
“Can I ask who all is coming for dinner?” Claudette queried, passing me a form to sign.
“My parents, and Laila.”
“It’s serious, then?” Claudette asked.
I removed my coat, and Joanne hung it on the coat rack as I allowed Claudette to step into my office first.
Carlton, Will, and Jimmy stood up. “Mr. President,” Carlton, extending a hand.
I took it for a shake. “Carlton, good to see you again.” I motioned for everyone to take a seat.
“You, too, sir,” Carlton replied and sat back down.
I unbuttoned my jacket and took the chair opposite Carlton. “So, I hear you had some questions about the bill?”
Claudette picked up copies of the documents and passed them around the room.
Carlton declined, holding up his own version. “I have a few concerns, and I’m not sure it goes far enough,” Carlton said, opening the document.
I checked the time on my watch and sighed. He loved pushing my buttons. “What concerns, Carlton? My team built the best bill for everyone.”
“I’d like to add some revisions or adjustments to the numbers,” Carlton implied. His assistant opened his briefcase and pulled out more paperwork.
“What’s this?” Will took the paperwork and flipped through the color-coded tabs.
“Essentially, I think we should give a 3% increase, instead of the 5% that you’re pitching,” Carlton said.
“Pitching?”
“It’s nothing personal, Mr. President. Just looking out for the budget,” Carlton said, pointing to the line items that would pay for the government funding.
“This is not a debate, Carlton.”
“Congressmen, do you have ideas about who should be included?” Claudette asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do—a great firm in my town,” Carlton explained.
I clenched my teeth. He thought I would buckle and give in, but I wouldn’t be hustled. He’d lost the race, and he needed to get over it. I crossed my legs, leaned back in my seat, and stared at him as I fixed my tie. “I’m not changing the percentage, Carlton.”
“Then, Mr. President, we don’t have a deal,” Carlton responded.
“This isn’t about fattening your friends’ pockets, Carlton.”
“Excuse me, Sebastian?!” Carlton shouted, jumping up.
“Mr. President.”
“What?” Carlton replied.
“Address me as ‘Mr. President’. You lost the race; get over it.”
“What the president is saying is that we need to focus on building as a team,” Claudette said, trying to smooth things over.
“I know what I said, and I mean it,” I argued, then said to Carlton, “You and your assistant can leave.” I stood and walked over to the beverage cart, then poured a glass of water.
Carlton and Jimmy stood, preparing to leave. “Mr. President, I think you should reconsider my offer,” Carlton urged.
“I don’t think I will.”
“Then I’ll have no choice but to vote no when it comes up in the Senate.”
“You do what’s comfortable for you, and I will do the same.”
He stomped out of the room with Jimmy behind him, and I chuckled to myself.
Five minutes later, the press secretary was escorted inside for the daily briefing. “We need to get him back here for a meeting,” Charles mentioned.
I shrugged, not really caring if I had his support behind the bill. He was acting like a child who had lost his prize.
“I’m disappointed that we couldn't get a yes from him,” Claudette said.
I went to sit behind my desk.
“Carlton is always looking out for himself,” Will said.
“I want this sent for a vote,” I demanded. “I’m not folding on this rate.”
“What’s the agenda for today?” Claudette asked, turning to our press secretary.
“Nothing too heavy: basic spending, and upcoming trips,” Kaitlin said.
“Great, push back the announcement on the infrastructure deal.”
“What happened? I thought it was locked in for a yes vote,” Kaitlin inquired, taking notes.
“Carlton is what happened,” Charles blurted out.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Carlton is trying to play hard ball,” I remarked.
“Is this going to be an issue?” Kaitlin wondered.
“Probably, but I want this deal to happen,” I replied.
We continued to discuss the plans for the upcoming visits with different schools for the Teacher of the Year ceremony. I checked my calendar and texted Tony to make sure that things were in place.
I knew as soon as Laila saw the news that she’d be pissed, so I needed to prepare myself for the outcome and get her to understand that it was better to come at things like this full-steam ahead, rather than hide it, which would have just made us look guilty. I refused to let anyone make me feel guilty for wanting her.
Chapter 3: Laila
I SOAKED IN THE TUB after Tony dropped me off this morning. I hated to admit that when Sebastian and I were apart, I just wanted to call him and see him again. I put up a hard front when we were together but being around him had been wonderful and amazing—not only from the sex, but also the conversations about our families. He could see beyond my beauty and really look at my soul and heart.
At thirty-three, my life was pretty normal. My parents, Brooklyn and Timothy Daniels, had sacrificed and worked
hard for me to get into college—until my mom was diagnosed with cancer.
To avoid dropping out of college, I started working at Penelope’s Exclusive Dates. Penelope Monroe was a well-known madam in D.C., and over time, I looked to her as a mentor and an older sister. Even though she’d recently turned 45, she looked 10 years younger. Working for Penelope had paid off, because after I made enough money to put myself through college, I worked at Bayview Medical, interning and researching as I built my career as a therapist. Eventually, I opened a practice in the building with my own clients.
Carlton was a longtime client of Penelope’s, and she’d hooked me up with him. I’d had boyfriends here and there, but they could never handle my lifestyle, and so I decided to keep love out of my decisions. So, being with Sebastian would be scary and exciting at the same time. He was confident, sweet, arrogant, sexy, and cocky. One thing he showed me was loyalty, and my feelings had progressed. I hated to admit that he had me wide-open. I knew that the second the public saw us together; my life would change forever. Telling my parents that their daughter had put herself through school by escorting with wealthy men would probably cause them hurt and embarrassment—especially once the public got a hold of the story. They’d been through enough, having cameras shoved in their faces nonstop.
I ran a towel over my arms as tunes about love and sacrifice by Jennifer Hudson played in the background. I closed my eyes and moved the towel over my breasts, recalling Sebastian brushing his lips against them last night, pressing his large 6’2” body against my 5’6” frame. I tucked my lip between my teeth and groaned in pleasure at the thought of having his long, thick girth inside my mouth again. Carlton wanted to have me on his arm to show off as his little toy, but Sebastian worshiped not only my body, but my mind, and every curve from the top of my head, to my full lips, and all over my dark brown skin. I never had to fake it when we had sex—unlike with Carlton. Sebastian knew how to please a woman. To Carlton, it was all about getting his rocks off, and I’d be left having to use a vibrator to have an orgasm.
Mutual Agreement(A Presidential Romance) Page 3
