DUTCH AND GINA: WHAT HE DID FOR LOVE

by Monroe, Mallory

  Dutch stared at her. That pitiful look was all over her beautiful brown face, and he realized at that moment that he pitied his own daughter. Perhaps even more than he loved her.

  He exhaled. “You’re asking the wrong person,” he said. “You need to ask for Gina’s forgiveness.”

  That Gina, Jade inwardly raged. Why did it always come down to that doggone Gina! But as quickly as her bitterness showed, her smile erased it. “I’ll go see her and apologize then.”

  “You won’t go anywhere near her. I’ll talk to her, and if she wants to meet with you I’ll set it up.”

  He could tell Jade was impatient with the progress, but he couldn’t help that.

  “Okay,” she said, although her face said something entirely different.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Gina’s eyes remained closed as Dutch eased his penis inside of her.

  “Umm,” she hummed and relaxed her body even more when she felt his penetration. She loved waking up this way, and Dutch loved waking her up this way. He, in fact, was waking her up this way far more often than usual.

  He got into his rhythm almost immediately, as his strokes hit a slow, sensual stride. She felt the fullness of him in a way that caused her entire body to feel every push across her ridges, and then every pull back, and then that sweet friction that made her body ache with passion. It wasn’t just a dick moving in and out of her, it was Dutch’s dick. And the fact that it was Dutch’s dick made every movement, every stroke, feel every bit as intense and emphatic as it possibly could.

  And he kept on gyrating her. He thrashed her longer than most men could ever dream of maintaining. He had such a way of staying aroused and keeping her constantly on the verge of an organism that it amazed her. He grunted and groaned as he fucked her, and was breathing almost unhealthily hard, but he still knew how to withhold his release.

  But Gina’s control was another story. Because when he reached his hand under her gown and began caressing her breast and her nipple as he fucked her, that verge of release tipped over. And she came. Sweet and intense. She drew her knees up to her belly and leaned her body back against Dutch’s hard frame, as he wouldn’t ease up on her. He continued to thrash her as she came. He continued to thrash her as she cried out in a joyous climax. And with that final cry she clamped down hard on his penis.

  Too hard.

  Which only meant that his time was near, too.

  Ultimately, he came. He came in a release that caused him to lean against Gina and strain it out. His veins showed as he came.

  When the last drop drained, and the pulsating within his penis began to ebb, he slumped against her. He still had his hands beneath her gown, holding her tightly against his own naked form. It was the kind of release he needed now more than ever. It was the kind of stop the world, I want to get off fuck that made him realize just how fortunate he truly was.

  Then he kissed the source of his fortune on her neck, and moved onto his back. Gina smiled and turned her body toward him. She sat up on one elbow and placed the other hand on his gorgeously toned stomach. He was still breathing hard.

  “I’m becoming your morning workout,” she said.

  “I don’t exactly do this every morning. Every other morning, but not every morning.” They both laughed.

  Gina began rubbing her dark hand across his tanned stomach. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,” she said.

  “About Jade?”

  Gina nodded. “Yep.” Then she looked at him.

  He could see that apprehension in her pretty eyes. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said.

  “But we can’t keep ignoring her, either. She’s your daughter.”

  Dutch looked away from her. “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

  “I still see her standing there, staring at me, and not saying anything.”

  Dutch’s heart began to pound. He turned to her, and began rubbing her arm.

  “If only she would have warned me, or told me to duck, or just yelled something, then maybe I would have stood a chance. But she didn’t say a word.”

  Dutch stared at her, as the terror of that day grabbed him again too.

  “But,” Gina said, trying with all she had to remain strong, “she’s your daughter. No matter what, and at the end of the day, she’s your daughter.” She said this and looked at him. “And I want you to have a relationship with your child. That’s why I have to hear her out. I have to face her again.”

  Dutch squeezed her arm. “Are you sure?”

  Gina nodded. “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll be right there beside you.”

  But Gina shook her head. “No, Dutch. I have to face this alone.”

  “Alone? Are you. . . There is no way I’m letting you go anywhere near her alone.”

  “Yes, Dutch. It’s something I have to do. I have to face her for myself, by myself, and within myself. She and I, face to face again.” A plea was in her eyes. “I have to do it alone, Dutch. I have to.”

  Dutch didn’t like it, and Gina had no illusions about that, but he placed his arms around her and pulled her to him all the same. Just the thought of his wife in a room with Jade again, and all the awful memories it would force her to relive, was almost too much for him to bear. But she was right. Facing her fear was a battle she had to fight alone.

  Christian walked slowly along the corridors of the West Wing with a lumbering gait. Many of the younger female aides in the administration spoke to him cheerfully as he passed, with more than a few commenting on his gorgeous blond hair, or deep blue eyes, or nice, firm body. But Christian wasn’t interested. His reputation for ignoring the younger ladies became so pronounced until many started joking that females his age were too young for him. “He likes them old and black,” a few even dared to suggest.

  In truth, Christian liked LaLa. Period. She was black, and she was older than him, but those weren’t the reasons at all. He liked her heart, and her devotion, and the way she looked, and the way she felt in his arms, and the way she smiled. But he also knew an inconvenient truth: he liked the one woman he could not have.

  That was why he found himself walking slowly down the corridors of the West Wing.

  As a member of Dutch’s transition team, he was tasked with working with the vice president’s staff to develop protocol for the aides of both offices after Dutch’s departure from and Crader’s ascension into the presidency. These meetings were to ensure a seamless transition, although Christian was beginning to feel as if they were a waste of time. It had been two weeks since the attacks across this nation and no arrest was in sight. Dutch had already promised the American people that he would remain as their president until those terrorists were brought to justice. Christian wondered, however, if there would ever be an arrest. “Look at how long it took them to get Bin Laden,” he would tell anyone who questioned his belief.

  But that didn’t mean he didn’t work his butt off on behalf of the president. He did. He made sure no stones were left unturned. He was determined to make Dutch’s eventual departure nothing more than a handover rather than a turnover. And with this extra time, he was being extra cautious.

  But he still had unfinished business. That was why he was in the West Wing when he should have been at lunch. He passed by the office of the vice president a hundred times since that night in Newark. But he never found the courage to go inside. Now, as he slowly entered the vice presidential suite, he decided to just do it. Courage or no courage. Just do it.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Vice President,” Crader’s secretary announced through her desk intercom. Christian was standing in front of her desk.

  “Yes, Gwen?”

  “Christian Bale is here to see you, sir.”

  There was a pronounced hesitation. “Send him in,” Crader’s voice eventually replied.

  And Christian walked into Crader’s office.

  Allison Shearer, Dutch’s chief of staff, and Shannon Corcoran, Crader’s chief of staff, w
ere standing on either side of his desk. But it seemed to Christian as he entered that they were on the same side of the issue. They both seemed to agree that the vice president should give some speech to a Chamber of Commerce gathering to ensure the public that the U.S. government was fully functioning and getting on with more business than tracking down terrorists.

  “Then Dutch should be the one out front. He’s the president. It’ll mean more if the president was seen out and about.”

  “He is seen out and about,” Allison reminded him. “He gives press briefings on those attacks every single day. The only reason his resignation hasn’t gone into effect yet is because of those attacks. The American people know he’s doing his job. You’ve got to show the counterbalance, not the president. It has to be you, Crader.”

  But Crader still wasn’t convinced. “It’ll be different if the Chamber was more supportive of our administration. But they aren’t. They’re just a bunch of right wing hacks who think the world owes them another tax cut. I can’t stand that arrogant crowd.”

  “Then pick another group,” Shannon Corcoran suggested. “Pick a liberal group. But get out and about, Crader. I think that’s the message Ally is trying to convey. We need your face on television too.”

  Crader still wasn’t convinced. But when he saw Christian walking toward his desk he waved them off. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

  Allison and Shannon glanced at each other with great frustration.

  Then Shannon smiled. “Yes, sir,” she said and both staff chiefs headed out of the office, speaking to Christian as they left.

  Crader stared but didn’t speak as the younger man stood in front of his massive desk. Christian could see that the vice president wasn’t about to make this easy for him, so he decided to dismiss with all formalities. And get to the point.

  “I came to apologize for sleeping with your wife, sir,” he said.

  Crader didn’t expect such a direct statement, but he appreciated it. “Why are you apologizing? Because I beat your ass?”

  Christian’s anger attempted to assert itself, but he refused to fall for Crader’s bait. “Because it’s the right thing to do, sir. I screwed up, and I’m apologizing for it.”

  “You didn’t screw up, you screwed my wife. And the only reason you’re apologizing for it is because I found out. I didn’t hear any confessions or apologies before I found out.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt LaLa.”

  “And I don’t like that response,” Crader said honestly. “I don’t like the fact of another man having a soft spot for my wife. I don’t like that.”

  “But that’s ridiculous,” Christian found himself saying before he could stop himself.

  “Oh, is it now?” Crader said, leaning back in his chair. “And what’s so ridiculous about it?”

  Christian didn’t mean to go down this road, but he was already on it. “It’s ridiculous because many people love and care about LaLa, and some of those people, I’m sure, are men. Even the president has a soft spot for LaLa.

  “So you’re comparing yourself to the president now?”

  “No, sir, I was just saying. . . What I mean is . . .” It seemed hopeless reasoning with an unreasonable man like Crader McKenzie. “If you want me to leave the White House, I’ll leave, sir.”

  “And have Dutch riding my tail for getting rid of his beloved boy? No thank-you very much. As long as Dutch stays here, you’ll stay here.”

  Christian was relieved to hear that. “Thank-you, sir. Thank-you very much. And you don’t have to apologize for hitting me.”

  “Don’t worry,” Crader said, “I don’t intend to. You deserved it.”

  Christian was offended, but he kept his feelings to himself.

  “You just stay away from my wife while you’re here, and we’ll be okay. But when Dutch leave, you go with him.”

  “That’s already been arranged.”

  Crader stared at him. The cocky sonafabitch, he thought. “He doesn’t condone what you did. You know that?”

  “I know. He’s very disappointed in me. But he doesn’t blame LaLa as much as he blames me. And you shouldn’t blame her at all.”

  Crader’s anger unleashed. “Who the hell are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do regarding my own wife? You keep your ass out of that discussion, you hear me, boy?”

  Christian was exasperated. “Yes, sir,” he said.

  Then Christian just stood there.

  “What is it?” Crader asked angrily. “We’ve kissed and made up. That’s all you’re getting from me. So be satisfied with that and get the fuck out of my face.”

  Christian never did get LaLa’s attraction to such a crude and rude man.

  “Yes, sir,” Christian said, and left. It didn’t go exactly the way he had hoped it would go, but at least it went.

  The elevator door opened and Dutch and Gina emerged and walked slowly along the private corridor that led to the private apartment. Although Dutch had reluctantly agreed to let Gina speak with Jade alone, he still insisted on waiting outside the door in case he was needed. Secret Service agents were all around, but Dutch still felt uneasy about this meeting.

  When they arrived at the front door of the apartment, Dutch turned Gina toward him, placing both of his hands on her shoulders.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, babe?” he asked her.

  But Gina’s mind was completely made up. “I’m positive. This is something I feel I have to do.” She viewed facing Jade as facing her fears of that day when Jade’s house was booby-trapped and Gina, walking through that door, was shot. She survived and had since thrived, but the memories were still there. Deep and filled with pain.

  Those memories were what Dutch was most concerned about. He hated the fact that she would have to relive such a tragic day. “I’ll wait here,” he said. “Call me if you need me, and I’ll come.”

  Gina smiled. Dutch to her rescue! But not this time. She had to rescue herself this time. She knocked on the door and waited. When Sam opened the door, she smiled. Although their relationship started out rocky, they were on good terms now. Dutch told Gina how Sam, after the shooting, had really stepped it up. She phoned often and checked on Gina. She kept Dutch posted on Jade when Dutch couldn’t stand to be in the same room with his own daughter. Now both Dutch and Gina considered Sam a friend.

  “Samantha, hi!” Gina said as she and Sam hugged.

  “Good to see you again.”

  “Do you like the digs here at the White House?”

  “This apartment is phenomenal. I didn’t realize they even had such a place inside the White House.”

  “I didn’t either. Dutch says it’s rarely used and never discussed.”

  “I see why. It’s very comfortable.”

  “Good,” Gina said. Then she looked past Sam. “Well,” she said. “I’d better get on with it.”

  Sam smiled a knowing smile and touched Gina on the arm. “Don’t expect miracles,” she warned Gina.

  Gina took her warning to heart. “I won’t,” she said, and then entered the apartment. Sam remained outside in the corridor with Dutch as she closed the door.

  She smiled. “Why am I not surprised to see you down here?”

  Dutch snorted. “I didn’t realize I was that transparent.” He began walking toward the wingback chairs that lined the wall in front of the apartment.

  “With Regina you are,” Sam said, moving toward him. “But only with her.”

  Dutch smiled weakly as he took a seat. Sam preferred to stand. She folded her arms.

  Dutch could see the concern in her eyes. Since their college days at Harvard, when she and Dutch had their dalliance, he could always tell when she was worried. “And how you are, Miss Redding?”

  “I’m glad I’m not you.”

  Dutch looked at her. If someone else would have made that comment, he might have been offended. But somehow he knew Sam meant it in that quirky Sam way that always required explanation.

  “Tryi
ng to run a country at a time like this,” Sam explained, and Dutch immediately got it. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, not for a second.”

  “I don’t want to be in my own shoes,” Dutch said only half-joking. “So trust me, I get your point.”

  Sam stood beside Dutch’s chair and leaned against the back wall. “What are we going to do about that daughter of ours?” she asked him.

  Dutch shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Sometimes she’s fine, and other times she’s so . . . I just pray she and Regina can work something out.”

  Dutch wasn’t at all sure if they could work anything out, but one thing was clear in his mind: Gina wasn’t about to take any of Jade’s bullshit. She either brought it straight, or she was going to be wasting her time with Gina. On that point Dutch was certain.

  And Jade, Gina thought, was bringing the bullshit big time.

  She sat quietly on the apartment’s leather couch and listened to Jade explain away that day as if Gina wasn’t even there. She was in shock, she insisted, and that was why she didn’t warn Gina.

  But Gina wasn’t buying it.

  “I said hello to you before I was shot,” she said. “All you had to say was duck, or look out, or something, Jade. But you didn’t say a word.”

  “Because I was in shock! How many times do I have to tell you that? Goodness! I was in shock, I was in shock, I was in shock! How many more times do I have to tell you?”

  “What I’m telling you is that you’d better step off with that attitude,” Gina warned her. “I don’t believe your ass. That’s my prerogative. I don’t believe you were in all that much shock because that’s not the kind of person you are. You calculate your advantages at every turn”

  “That’s not true.”

  “That is true!” Gina roared. “You knew what was about to happen to me.”

  “How could I know it was going to be you, Gina, when I had phoned my daddy and I thought my daddy was coming?”