Power Twist: Power Play Series Book 2

by Mitchell, Kennedy L.

  Two can play his little teasing game. Ensuring his full concentration is on my center, I draw my knees up and rest them along the sides of the tub. His eyes widen. The tub shakes as Trey dares a step closer, slamming his shins against the edge.

  “Why leave?” My pulse thunders in my ears.

  His chest heaves, eyes still locked between my thighs.

  “Touch yourself,” Treys says, his voice so guttural I barely recognize it.

  My skin heats to an uncomfortable level, sweat beading along my brow and upper lip. His hooded gaze meets mine. I suck in a quick breath at the desire behind his eyes.

  “Now, baby.”

  I glance at the closed door. Please let it be locked. Self-conscious of my actions, I slowly glide a hand through the water, barely caressing my stomach before skimming lower.

  “No,” he chokes out. Just below my belly button, I pause, waiting for his instructions. “Your nipples first.”

  The building desire quivers low in my belly. As my hand glides up my own body, skimming across sensitive skin, his slides lower to grip his hard length over his black suit pants. Fascinated, I watch him stroke himself as my eager fingers brush both nipples, flicking the peaked tips.

  “Rougher, Mess. Do it like I would.”

  I pinch both hardened nipples between my fingers. My back bows off the back of the tub, thrusting my breasts higher into the cooler air. The burst of desire shatters all inhibitions. “Trey,” I moan, continuing to tease myself, no longer caring about anything but my release. “I want you doing this. Touch me,” I begged.

  “I promised him hands off,” he spits like the words are acid on his tongue. “But we can make do, can't we, Mess?”

  Biting my lip, I nod as another wave of lust washes to my core, slicking my already wet center further.

  “Good girl. Now lower both hands.”

  “Benson,” T’s booming voice yells from the bedroom. My fingers still immediately. Widened in panic, my eyes flash up to Trey's. “I ordered you in and out. No funny business in there.”

  “Coming,” Trey shouts back over his shoulder with a smirk. “She’s working through the events of the night. Asking a shit ton of questions like always. Be out in a minute when she’s good.”

  “Hands off, remember,” T says, his voice causing the door to rattle on its hinges.

  Trey motions for me to continue, but knowing T’s on the other side of the door gives me pause. Trey raises both brows at my lack of response to his unspoken order and shoots a pointed look to my center.

  “Yeah, I know. Hands off. I remember, big guy, don’t worry,” he calls out.

  A rush of breath releases from my lungs at the sound of T's heavy footsteps retreating.

  “Continue,” Trey says, going back to stroking himself over his slacks. “We’re getting to the good part now.”

  His enraptured focus plus his visible reaction to my ministrations encourage me to continue. The first brush of my fingers shoots an electric bolt to every nerve ending. This is a first for me—with an audience, that is—and it’s fucking hot as hell. My lids flutter closed as my fingers slide deep into my core.

  “That's it.” His words are more a groan as I pick up the pace. “Imagine me, baby, my fingers, my tongue.”

  My breaths come in short pants, sweat trickling down my temples and between my breasts. I force my eyes open, and they widen at the sight of Trey's zipper down, his heavy cock in his hand. His tight fist jerks with the same rhythm as my fingers.

  “Trey,” I moan, my hips arching off the bottom of the tub. Waves slosh against the sides, some spilling over the lip to the tile floor.

  “Fuck,” he grits out. “On your knees, Mess. Keep your hands where they are and face me.”

  Damn his words. The lust-filled tone nearly shoves me over the edge. I press my knees against the bottom of the tub, sliding forward an inch against the slick surface until they hit the side. Leaning down, Trey brushes his lips along my own in an almost kiss. The tip of his tongue traces my lower lip, slicking the surface before he stands upright once more.

  Heated gaze locked with mine, he brushes the smooth head of his cock against my lips, parting them with a shallow thrust. A moan escapes as I open wider, allowing him to slide deeper.

  “Faster,” he pants, and I know he's not talking about my mouth. “I know you like it hard, baby. Give yourself what I can’t tonight.”

  Bracing one hand along the ledge, I spread my knees wider, adding another finger. His thrusts increase, enticing my hand to do the same. I let out a frustrated groan, missing his hands in my hair urging me along. Trey curses and slides deeper down my throat. My nose brushes his taut stomach.

  I angle my thumb over my clit and press down with every pump of my fingers. Ecstasy tingles my center, urging me faster and harder. With a muffled cry, I come hard, squeezing my fingers tight. The muscles in my thighs spasm and my grip on the tub’s edge slips, forcing Trey to push even deeper. I gag as my hand slides along the ceramic edge, seeking traction. Trey grunts his own release, my name a barely there whisper as his thrusts turn erratic.

  He steps back, slowly sliding from between my lips, and I slink back into the tub, utterly spent and happy. Eyes closed, I smile and stretch my tired jaw. “Well, that was new.”

  “Everything is new with you, Randi. Everything.”

  I peel open my heavy lids with a content sigh. After tucking himself back into his slacks and straightening his shirt, Trey leans forward, pressing his lips hard against my own. Taking the highball glass off the counter, he dangles it in front of my face.

  The slick glass slides along my palm as I lower it to my lips to take a sip.

  “I won't let anything happen to you, you know that, right?”

  Looking over the rim of the crystal, I nod. “That's your job, right?” Not sure why I phrase it as a question. Maybe subconsciously I need to hear that I'm more than the job, more than a random fuck. I need to hear he's in as deep as I am with whatever is going on between us.

  “Right,” he says with a chuckle. My lips purse in annoyance, and Trey shakes his head. “Mess.” He sighs, running a hand through his already disheveled dark hair. “Never once on this job have I considered the person I'm protecting's life more valuable than my own.”

  “And now?”

  “And now.” Turning on his heel, he retreats to the door. Hand on the handle, he says over his shoulder, “With you, I'd rather die than see you harmed. My life for yours, Randi. Because at this point, I wouldn’t live if you didn't.”

  Minutes later, I'm still staring at the closed bathroom door, completely floored by his admission. Water drips from the corners of my eyes from being kept open so long. Blinking, I clear the dryness and take a deep sip. The whiskey slides past my lips, burning my throat on its way down.

  “Don’t you dare die for me, Trouble,” I whisper to the empty bathroom. “Because I think I feel the same.”

  But I have no fucking clue where we go from here.

  * * *

  Shoulder against the window, I stare out at the craziest DC spring day. Snow swirls along the wraparound porch, the budding trees bending and whipping in the bitter forceful wind. The late snowstorm came unexpectedly, turning from the predicted couple inches of rain to snow and ice. How the weathermen missed it as badly as they did, I’ll never know. Through the city and along the highways it’s pandemonium. It might take days for the traffic to unwind itself. Thank goodness I chose to work from the One Observatory library today or I’d be out there in it too. But staring out into the bitter cold all I want to do is curl up in front of the old Victorian fireplace with a soft snuggly blanket, a glass of wine, and Trey at my side, forgoing any work. Why can't these people understand snow days should be appreciated not treated like a normal day?

  Wait, maybe I should make adult snow days a thing. Or a holiday. That’s not misusing power at all.

  “It's not good,” Jessica says with a resigned sigh behind me.

  “Yeah, but i
t would be fun.”

  “What?”

  I shift my eyes away from the window to where she sits, eyes closed and features tight. “What?”

  “I'm talking about the votes we need to win the House.”

  “Oh.” Focusing outside the cold glass once more, I monitor two bundled agents patrolling the property line. “They have to be freezing.”

  “It's their job. Don't worry about them. What you need to be worrying about is the fact that even with me working my tail off while you've been traveling, we're still several votes short.”

  Thumbnail between my teeth, I shuffle away from the window and flop into an armchair. “What do we do? What can we do?”

  Jessica tosses a notepad onto the side table, its cardboard back slapping against the wood surface. The skin around her eyes tightens as she massages her temples. “Honestly, I don't know. I feel like I’ve tried all my contacts, used up most of the favors owed me, and still we’re short.”

  “When's it going to the House?”

  “Next month, if they stay on schedule. But they could move it up. You never know with them.”

  “Shit,” I groan. “I can't let this happen. It goes against everything I promised through the campaign.”

  “I know,” Jessica says, sympathy dipping her voice to a soft whisper. “But you're trying to stop it. Other than continuing to badger people, I don't know what else to do.” Adjusting her watch, she swears. “I have a meeting with Congressman Trick in two hours across town. I better get going if I plan to make it on time in this weather.”

  She gathers her coat and scarf, draping both over her arm. At the door, she turns, dragging my attention from the unfocused stare I'd slipped into.

  “We'll keep trying, Randi. I'm not giving up.”

  I give her a tight nod with a goodbye wave as she slides out the door.

  The padding beneath my palms molds between my fingers as I push out of the armchair. My Uggs barely make a sound as I pace the length of the office, chewing on a fingernail while I debate my options.

  What am I going to do? My first real test here in DC and I'm failing—miserably. A painful ache builds behind my breastbone as the discomfort grows in my chest.

  This is it. I'm done. Done in this town. How could I not be? I really thought I’d last longer than this.

  Chewing on the pinkie nail, racking my brain on additional legal options we might be overlooking, I fail to notice Trey stepping into the room. Spinning on the balls of my feet, I turn only to have my nose smack a solid chest.

  “Ouch,” I say more like a curse as I rub my throbbing nose. “You broke my nose.”

  “I didn’t do anything. How'd the meeting with Jessica go?” he asks, pausing the hand still massaging my nose. Tipping my head up with two fingers beneath my chin, he inspects the area, eyes narrowed in concentration. “You're fine.”

  “Oh, you're a doctor now?”

  Trey smirks. “Nope, just had enough broken noses to know what to look for.”

  “That many fights, huh?”

  One shoulder rises in a half shrug. “It might shock you to know that not everyone finds me as adorable as you do.”

  I snort, and his brows shoot up his forehead in return.

  “Adorable? I don't think I'd use that word.”

  “And what words would you use?” His voice lowers with each word as he steps closer, sealing our bodies together. “I can tell you what words I'd use for you.” Chest to chest, he tilts forward. Two fingers brush the hair from around my face and tuck it behind my ear. Slick lips trail along my outer ear. “Delicious is the first word that comes to mind.”

  A shiver bolts down my spine, making my shoulders and legs quake. All the earlier worry and doubt fade to the background with me in his arms. With a content sigh, I relax further against his chest, savoring the feeling of comfort his arms offer.

  Too quickly it ends. Hands on my shoulders, he inches us apart before stepping back, putting several feet between us. Lips pursed in what seems like annoyance, he shoves both hands into the pockets of his pinstriped suit. “Cameras.” His honey brown eyes flick to a corner of the office before returning back to me. “You didn’t answer my question. How did it go with Jessica?”

  My hair shifts across my shoulders as I shake my head to help clear the lust fog his touch caused. “Not good. Terrible, actually. We don't have enough votes to kill it in the House and are several short in the Senate too.” Stepping around the massive desk, I relax into the high-back leather rolling chair. “What am I going to do, Trouble?”

  His features soften, the thin worry lines along his forehead and between his brow deepening.

  “I failed before I hit the six-month mark.” Swallowing back the unshed tears clogging my throat, I turn my damp eyes away from his concerned stare. “I'm a failure, just like everyone knew I would be.”

  “Mess—”

  I hold out a hand, cutting him off.

  “How can I stay here?” The dam holding back my building tears breaks, sending streams trickling down my lightly freckled cheeks. Hastily I wipe them away with the back of my hand. “How can I show my face when the one thing I promised, their voice in DC, is literally being stripped away with one bill that I can't stop?” Leaning forward, I rest both elbows on the desk and cradle my wet cheeks between my hands. “I’m a fraud.” The reality of the situation sets in, making me laugh. “Kyle's getting what he wanted from the start.”

  “What’s that?” The pain in Trey's voice wrings a shuddering sob from my chest.

  “Me gone. We made a deal, but even if we hadn’t, I can't stay here if that gets passed. I'll have let every person who voted for me down.” Deep in my gut, an unfamiliar feeling builds taking root, causing more tears to fall. What the hell? “I know this sounds stupid since I came here to get away from that stupid trailer park, but”—my damp palms fall to the desk, and I shift my gaze to meet Trey's straight on—“I just want to go home. Things might be hard as hell there, but at least the only person I’m letting down there is me. I can’t take this, Trey. I’m not strong enough for this role like I thought. It’s too much.”

  My heart and pride shred at the words I dared to say out loud. A soul-crushing sob rattles my chest, shaking my shoulders as the disappointment takes hold. Covering my face again, I sag against the desk.

  A strong arm tries to wrap around my shoulders, tugging me toward his comforting hold, but I shrug out of it and shake my head.

  “Just go, okay?” I cry, my voice breaking. “I need to be alone.”

  “Randi—”

  Fury builds where pity and self-loathing had just resided. Spinning in the chair, I lunge out of it. Both palms slam against his chest, making him stagger back. Shock registers on his face just before hurt flashes behind his eyes.

  “I said go,” I grit out. “Get out, now.”

  “No.” Gone is the hurt. His eyes narrow, funneling the steely look of determination straight through to me. “Are you serious with this right now?”

  I flinch like he physically slapped me, and I swear a flash of pain tightens his features in return.

  “It's done. There's nothing else we can do,” I say, my voice as weak as I feel.

  “So that's it. You're quitting. You're a quitter now.”

  My spine snaps straight, a bolt of annoyance rolling through my veins. “I'm sorry?” Surely I didn't hear him correctly. He's definitely not sitting here calling me out during my own fucking pity party.

  “You heard me,” he snarls. A slight tingle builds in my gut at the dominance in his tone and wide stance. “Are you a quitter, Randi Sawyer? Yes or no?”

  “I… I—”

  “It's a simple question, Randi,” he says with a smirk as he takes a step closer, putting us dress shoe to Uggs. “You're the motherfucking vice president of the United States, so start acting like it.”

  I purse my lips to keep them from trembling, though from rage or agony, I don't know. Both twist in my chest, confusing the hell out of m
e.

  “I'm not a quitter,” I finally grit out through clenched teeth. “Fuck you, Trey Benson. I’ve fought like hell my whole life, scrapped by day after day and kept going when everything and everyone was against me. I'm no fucking quitter, and you damn well know it, you asshole.”

  “I do.” My next snappy retort falls flat as my jaw pops open in surprise. “I needed to make sure you remembered who you are, Randi. This broken, sad, defeated person you’re fading into is not you. Stop it with this crying and saying you're going home or that you're a fucking failure.” He grips my chin and tilts my face up. “You're not going anywhere on my watch, you hear me? You're here until your term is up whether you like it or not.”

  I search his eyes, desperate to figure out what he's trying to say.

  “You're mine, Mess.” His calloused fingers slip from my chin as he steps away. “Now, tell me what Jessica's intel says, and then we'll strategize from there. We'll figure out a way to get the votes, together.”

  And just like that, another sliver of my heart melts for the mischievous, sexy-as-hell agent.

  If I'm not careful, he'll have my whole heart in his capable hands before the year is over.

  For the first time ever, I'm good with that. I don't know what the future holds, but if I can have this dedicated man by my side each step of the way, well then, it seems like a pretty great future to me.

  Chapter Eight

  Trey

  I give a tentative knock and take a step back, not wanting to overwhelm Jessica the second she opens the condo door. It's late and this visit is unannounced, but I had to come tonight. The drive over was treacherous, but at least this is my last stop.

  The snap of a deadbolt unlocking meets my ears. The door opens a foot, revealing a lingerie-clad, doe-eyed Jessica.